“Well — he’s our guide,” said Philip, after a pause. “We’ll have to trust him. He knows these mountains better than we do.”
“Yes. But he’s a poor stick,” said Jack. “Not much brain. I wouldn’t put it past him to go on losing us deeper and deeper in these mountains, once he’d begun! He just wouldn’t know what else to do.”
“What a horrible idea!” said Philip. “Good thing we’ve got so much food with us, if that’s what he means to do!”
They came at last to a big outcrop of rocks, which would give them shelter from the wet, chilly wind. “Better have a meal here,” said Philip. “I’d like something hot to drink. Did Mrs. Evans put in a teakettle?”
“Yes. If we can find a stream or spring, we’ll build a little fire and boil some water for cocoa or something,” said Jack.
But there was no spring and no stream. It was most annoying.
“Considering the dozens we’ve passed this morning, and waded through, I call it a bit hard that there’s not even a tiny one here,” said Dinah. “I’m jolly thirsty too.”
They had to have a meal without anything to drink. They were very hungry, and the food seemed to warm them a little. They played a game of tag to get themselves thoroughly warm after the meal. David looked as if he thought they had gone mad. Snowy joined in wildly, neatly tripping everyone up. Kiki rose in the air and screamed.
“Look at David’s face! He thinks we’re all crazy!” giggled Lucy-Ann. She sank down on a rock. “Oh, I can’t run any more. I’ve got a stitch in my side.”
“Stitchinmyside, stitchinmyside,” chanted Kiki, running all the words together. “Pop goes the weasel!”
“The mist’s clearing! Hurrah!” suddenly cried Jack, and he pointed upwards. The sun could be seen quite clearly, struggling to get through the clouds of mist.
Everyone cheered up at once. Even David looked less dismal. “Let’s try to get to the Butterfly Valley before the evening,” said Jack to David, doing the flapping business vigorously to make sure David understood. David nodded.
They mounted the donkeys again and set off once more. They could see much further in front now. Quite a big stretch of mountainside was spread before them. The world suddenly seemed a much bigger place.
They rode on steadily. The mist thinned more and more rapidly, and the children felt the heat of the sun on their heads. They took off their coats, revelling in the warmth, after the chilliness of the mist.
“Look — we can see the nearest mountain-tops now,” called Jack. “And the distant ones will soon be uncovered too. Thank goodness!”
“We ought to see the Vale of Butterflies soon,” said Lucy-Ann, eagerly. “David said we’d get there today. I wonder where it is. Look, there’s a butterfly, Philip.”
Philip glanced at it. “Only a meadow-brown,” he said. “We’ve seen heaps of those.” He looked before him searchingly and then put his field-glasses to his eyes.
“There’s a valley which might be it,” he said, pointing. “Hey, David! Is that the Vale of Butterflies?”
David looked where Philip was pointing. He shrugged his shoulders. “Iss. No,” he said.
“Yes, no! Whatever does he mean by that?” said Philip in disgust. “I suppose, in plain English, he means he hasn’t the faintest idea. Well, we’ll go on and hope for the best. It looks a nice sheltered kind of valley, the sort that might be hot enough for all kinds of insects and flowers.”
Picturing a perfect paradise of brilliant flowers and equally brilliant butterflies, the children rode on and on down towards the valley in the far distance. It was much further than they thought. That was the worst of travelling in mountains. Everywhere was about twice as far as you imagined it to be. Most disappointing!
It was late when they rode into the valley, which was more of a shallow depression between two high mountains than a real lowland valley. It was sheltered, and certainly it had more flowers in it than they had so far seen — but there were no butterflies!
“This can’t be it!” said Philip in disappointment. “Is it, David?”
David shook his head. He was looking round in a puzzled manner, and it was quite clear that he didn’t know where he was.
“If this is not the butterfly place, where is it?” asked Jack slowly and clearly. David shook his head again. He was really a maddening person, no use as a guide at all.
“Well,” said Philip, “he’s brought us the wrong way, to a place he doesn’t know, but it’s quite warm and sheltered, so we’ll make the best of it tonight. Tomorrow we’ll get the map from David, see if we can find out the way, and set off with ourselves as guides. He’s as much use as Kiki to guide us in these mountains!”
They set up their camp again, feeling rather disappointed. They had so hoped to come to the place they wanted that night, and to set up camp properly for a few days, to revel in hordes of common and uncommon butterflies. Now they would have to go hunting for it again, and goodness knew if they would ever find it!
They crawled into their sleeping-bags and called good-night, just as the stars gleamed out. David was sleeping outside as usual.
But in the night the boys woke up suddenly. David was crawling into their tent. He was trembling with fright. “Noises,” he said in English, and then poured out something in Welsh. He was very frightened. “Sleep here,” he said, and crept between the boys. They were amused and puzzled.
Whatever could have scared David so much?
Chapter 10
A DISTURBING NIGHT
THE sun was shining brightly when the camp awoke next day. It made them all feel cheerful and lively. Snowy, who had resented David sleeping with Philip and Jack the night before, and had butted him continually, bounded about lightly everywhere, butting David whenever he met him.
“What happened to you last night, David?” asked Jack, when they were all having a meal. “Why were you so frightened?”
“Noises,” said David.
“What sort?” asked Philip curiously. “We didn’t hear any.”
David made some surprising noises that sent Kiki sailing into the air and Snowy bounding away in fright. The children stared at David in astonishment.
By means of odd words and gestures David managed to convey to the children that he had gone to see if the donkeys were all right in the night, and had heard these noises near by where they were tethered.
“That explains why we didn’t hear them, I suppose,” said Jack. “David makes them sound like animal noises — fierce and savage!”
Lucy-Ann looked scared. “Oh! You don’t think there are wild animals anywhere about here, do you, Jack? I mean, fierce wild animals?”
Jack grinned. “Well, if you are thinking of lions and tigers and panthers and bears, I think I can say you needn’t be afraid of finding those here. But if, like Dinah, you include snakes, foxes, hedgehogs and so on in your list of fierce wild animals, then I should say, look out!”
“Don’t be silly, Jack. Of course I don’t mean those,” said Lucy-Ann. “I don’t quite know what I did mean. I just felt scared — and wondered what animal had made the noises David heard.”
“Probably his own imagination,” said Philip. “Or a bad dream. It wouldn’t take much to scare him.”
David did not seem to want to go any further. He kept pointing back over the way they had come. But the children were not going to let their trip come to such a disappointing end. They meant to go and find the Butterfly Valley, if it took them all week! There was a lot of flapping to make David understand this.
He turned sulky, but mounted his donkey to go with them. Jack now had the map, and examined it very carefully. It was annoying that the Butterfly Valley wasn’t marked. Perhaps very few people knew about it.
They all set off across the valley and up into the mountains again. Perhaps the next valley would be the one they wanted, or the one after that. But although they travelled hopefully all the day, they did not find any valley full of butterflies. The children began to think it was all a fairy tale.
There was no track to follow now, though the boys kept a keen look-out in case they should come across one again. When they camped that night, they discussed what they had better do next.
“If we go on any further we shan’t know our way back,” said Jack. “David would, perhaps, because he was born and bred among mountains, and, like a dog, could follow his own trail well enough, if we had to go back. But he’s so brainless that I don’t like to trust to him too much. I wouldn’t be surprised if he lost the way going back, if we take him much further!”