Blyton, Enid – Famous Five 15 – Five On a Secret Trail

‘Where’s he going?’ asked Anne. ‘To look for a rabbit?’

‘No. Probably to get a drink,’ said George. ‘The spring is in the direction he’s gone. I’m thirsty too – let’s take the mug and get a drink ourselves.’

They went off with the mug, Anne following George through the thick heather. The little spring was a lovely one. It had evidently been used by the people who had once lived in the old cottage, and was built round with big white stones, so that the spring ran through a little stony channel, as clear as crystal.

‘Oooh – it’s as cold as ice!’ said Anne. ‘Simply delicious! I could drink gallons of this!’

They lay on the heather out in the sun, talking, when they came back from the spring. Timmy wandered off by himself again.

‘It’s so peaceful here,’ said Anne. ‘Nobody near us for miles. Just the birds and the rabbits. This is what I like!’

‘There’s hardly a sound,’ said George, yawning.

And then, just as she said that, there came a noise in the distance. A sharp sound, like metal on stone. It came again and again and then stopped.

‘What’s that, do you suppose?’ said George, sitting up.

‘I can’t imagine,’ said Anne. ‘Anyway, it’s a long way away – everything is so still that sounds carry from quite a distance.’

The sharp noises began again in a little while and then stopped. The girls shut their eyes, and slept. There wasn’t a sound now except the pop-pop-pop of gorse pads exploding in the sun and sending out their little black seeds.

George woke up when Timmy came back. He sat down heavily on her feet and she woke up with a jump.

‘Timmy! Don’t!’ she said. ‘Get off my feet, you made me jump!’ Timmy obligingly removed himself and then picked up something he had dropped, lay down and began gnawing it. George looked to see what it was.

‘Timmy! That’s a bone! Where did you get it?’ she said. ‘Anne, did you bring a bone for Tim?’

‘What? What did you say?’ said Anne, half asleep. ‘A bone. No, I didn’t. Why?’

‘Because Timmy’s found one,’ said George, ‘and it’s a bone that has had cooked meat on it, so it’s not a rabbit or anything Timmy’s caught. Timmy, where did you get it.”

‘Woof,’ said Timmy, offering the bone to George, thinking that she too might like a gnaw, as she seemed so interested in it.

‘Do you suppose anyone else is camping near us?’ asked Anne, sitting up and yawning. ‘After all, bones don’t grow in the heather. That’s quite a good meaty one, too. Timmy, have you stolen it from another dog?’

Timmy thumped his tail on the ground and went on with his bone. He looked pleased with himself.

‘It’s rather an old bone,’ said George. ‘It’s smelly. Go away, Tim – take it further off.’

The sharp metallic noises suddenly began again and George frowned. ‘I believe there is someone camping near us, Anne. Come on – let’s do a bit of exploring and find out. I vote we move our camp if there are other people near. Come on, Timmy – that’s right, bury that horrible bone! This way Anne!’

Chapter Three

THE OLD COTTAGE – AND A SURPRISE

The two girls, with Timmy at their heels, left their camping-place and set off in the hot sun. Anne caught sight of the ruined cottage and stopped.

‘Let’s have a look at it,’ she said. ‘It must be awfully old, George.’

They went in at the wide doorway. There was no door left, only the stone archway. Inside was a big room, whose floor had once been paved with slabs of white stone. Now grass and other weeds had grown between the cracks, and had actually lifted up some of the slabs so that the whole floor was uneven.

Here and there parts of the walls had fallen away, and the daylight came through. One window was still more or less intact, but the others had fallen out. A small crooked stairway of stone led upwards in one corner.

‘To rooms above, I suppose,’ said Anne. ‘Oh, here’s another doorway, leading into a second room – a small one. It’s got an old sink in it, look – and this must be the remains of a pump.’

‘There’s not much to see, really,’ said George, looking round. ‘The top rooms must be quite ruined, because half the roof is off. Hallo, here’s another door – a back door. It’s actually a door too, not just a doorway.’

She gave a push at the stout wood – and the old door promptly fell off its hinges and crashed outwards into an over-grown yard.

‘Goodness!’ said George, startled. ‘I didn’t know it was quite so rotten. It made poor Tim jump almost out of his skin!’

‘There are out-houses here – or the remains of them,’ said Anne, exploring the back-yard. ‘They must have kept pigs and hens and ducks. Here’s a dried-up pond, look.’

Everything was falling to pieces. The best preserved corner of the old place was what must have been a small stable. Rusted mangers were still there and the floor was of stone. An old, old piece of harness hung on a big nail.

‘It’s got quite a nice ‘feel’ about it, this old place,’ said Anne. ‘Sometimes I don’t like the feel of places – they give me an uneasy feeling, a feeling that horrid things may have happened there. But this is quite different. I think people have been happy here, and led peaceful lives. I can almost hear hens clucking and ducks quacking, and pigs gr…’

‘Quack, quack, quack! Quack!’

‘Cuck-cuk-cuk-cuk-cuk! Cuck-cuk-cuk-cuk-cuk!’

Anne clutched George and the two girls looked extremely startled to hear the sudden loud noise of quacking and clucking. They stood and listened.

‘What was it?’ said Anne. ‘It sounded like hens and ducks – though I’m not quite sure. But there aren’t any here, surely. We shall hear a horse whinnying next!’

They didn’t hear a whinny – but they heard the snorting of a horse at once. ‘Hmrr-umph! Hrrrrr-umph!’

Both girls were now quite alarmed. They looked for Timmy. He was nowhere to be seen! Wherever could he have got to?

‘Cuck-cuk-cuk-cuk-cuk!’

‘This is silly,’ said George. ‘Are we imagining things? Anne, there must be hens near. Come round the back of these stables and look. Timmy, where are you? TIMMY!’

She whistled shrilly – and immediately an echo came – or so it seemed!

‘Phee-phee-phee-phee-phee!’

‘TIMMY!’ yelled George, beginning to feel as if she was in a dream.

Timmy appeared, looking rather sheepish. He wagged his tail – and to the girls’ enormous amazement, they saw that he had a ribbon tied on it. A ribbon – a bright blue one at that!

‘Timmy! Your tail – the ribbon – Timmy, what’s all this about?’ said George, really startled.

Timmy went to her, still looking sheepish, George tore the ribbon off his tail. ‘Who tied it there?’ she demanded. ‘Who’s here? Timmy, where have you been?’

The two girls searched the old buildings thoroughly, and found nothing and nobody. Not a hen, not a duck, not a pig – and certainly not a horse. Then – what was the explanation? They stared at one another in bewilderment.

‘And where did Timmy get that silly ribbon?’ said George, exasperated. ‘Someone must have tied it on.’

‘Perhaps it was a hiker passing by – perhaps he heard us here and saw Timmy and played a joke,’ said Anne. ‘But it’s strange that old Tim let him tie on the ribbon. I mean – Timmy’s not overfriendly with strangers, is he?’

The girls gave up the idea of exploring any further and went back to their little camp. Timmy went with them. He lay down – and then suddenly got up again, making for a thick gorse bush. He tried to squirm underneath.

‘Note what’s he after?’ said George. ‘Really, I think Timmy’s gone mad. Timmy, you can’t get under there with that great collar on. TIMMY, do you hear me!’

Timmy backed out reluctantly, the collar all crooked. After him came a peculiar little mongrel dog with one blind eye and one exceedingly bright and lively one. He was half-white and half-black, and had a ridiculously long thin tail, which he waved about merrily.

‘Well!’ said George, amazed. ‘What’s that dog doing there? And how did Timmy get so friendly with him? Timmy, I can’t make you out.’

‘Woof,’ said Timmy, and brought the mongrel dog over to Anne and George. He then proceeded to dig up the smelly bone he had buried, and actually offered it to the little dog, who looked away and took no interest in it at all.

‘This is all very peculiar,’ said Anne. ‘I shall expect to see Timmy bring a cat to us next!’

At once there came a pathetic mewing.

‘Mee-ew! Mee-ew-ee-ew-ee-ew!’