The dinner was as good as the high tea and breakfast had been. The children set to work and Mrs. Evans felt very pleased to see how much her good food was appreciated. She kept pressing second and third helpings on everyone, but soon even the boys could eat no more.
“There iss no four o’clock tea,” she kept saying. “Nothing till six o’clock. So eat, look you, eat!”
“Dithery slithery,” announced Kiki suddenly, and Dinah gave a scream. The slow-worm was gliding out of Philip’s sleeve! He pushed it back hurriedly, hoping that no one had seen it. Bill had. His sharp eyes had caught sight of it at once. He grinned.
“Another member added to the family?” he said. “Very nice too! What with Snowy and Kiki and — er — Slithery, we look all set for a most interesting holiday.”
Chapter 5
ARRIVAL OF THE DONKEYS
THE next excitement, of course, was the arrival of the donkeys. The children had waited expectantly for them all the following morning, not liking to go for a walk in case they missed the donkeys’ arrival. Lucy-Ann saw them first.
She gave a yell that sent the slow-worm back into Philip’s pocket, and startled Snowy so much that he leapt four feet in the air. Even Kiki jumped.
“The donkeys!” cried Lucy-Ann. “There they come, look, up the mountain-path.”
Soon all four children were tearing down the path to the donkeys. There were eight of them, strong, sturdy little creatures, with big bright eyes, and long tails that whisked the flies away. They were all grey, and their long ears twitched to and fro as they came steadily up the steep path.
Trefor’s brother David was with them, an elderly man rather like Trefor but with tidier hair and beard. He had the same bright blue eyes, but he looked timid and fearful, as if the world had not been kind to him.
He smiled faintly at the lively children. “Can we ride four of the donkeys now?” asked Philip. “We know how to ride. Come on, Lucy-Ann, up with you!”
He gave Lucy-Ann a shove and she was tip on a donkey’s back. Dinah needed no help. With a leap like Snowy’s she was up at once.
The donkeys ambled up the steep path with the children, refusing to trot now that they had heavy weights on their backs. Snowy galloped beside Philip’s donkey, half jealous of it, butting it in the legs.
“Hallo! Here we are!” cried Jack, ambling up to Mrs. Mannering and Bill. “Eight donkeys to choose from! Which are you going to have, Aunt Allie?”
David stood by smiling while his donkeys were examined and tried. Trefor the shepherd arrived, and the two old brothers chatted together in Welsh. Effans and his wife came along, and soon there was quite a company in the farmyard, discussing the donkeys.
“We badly want to go off on the donkeys into the mountains, Mother,” said Philip coaxingly. “Can we? With you and Bill, of course. To stay a few nights, I mean. Jack and I think there should be a fine lot of rare birds over there in those lonely mountains — and there will be lots of animals too.”
“It would be rather fun,” said his mother. “I haven’t camped out for ages, and in this weather it would be lovely. What do you say, Bill?”
“I say yes!” said Bill, who loved outdoor life and was an old hand at camping. “Do you good, Allie. We could take a couple of extra donkeys to carry the things we want.”
“Oh, Bill! Can we really go?” said Lucy-Ann, overjoyed, and Dinah danced round him too. To go off on donkeys into the mountains, and take tents and food — what could be more fun?
“It will be an adventure!” said Dinah. “Not one of our usual ones, of course, but a really nice one. You’ll like that, Lucy-Ann, won’t you?”
“Oh yes,” said Lucy-Ann, who never really enjoyed a proper adventure while it was happening. “I’d like that kind of adventure. When can we go?”
“Well, we’d better get used to our donkeys before we think of going,” said Bill. “I’m not used to donkey-riding, nor is Aunt Allie. We shall be stiff at first, so we’d better get over that stage before we go. Say next week?”
“Oh — I can’t wait that long!” said Dinah, and the others laughed at her long face.
“Effans, where is a nice place to go?” asked Jack, turning to him. Effans considered. He spoke to Trefor in Welsh and the old shepherd answered him.
“He says the Vale of Butterflies is a good place,” said Effans. “It is full of birds as well as butterflies.”
“The Vale of Butterflies — that sounds gorgeous,” said Jack, pleased.
“Super!” said Philip. “Absolutely wizard! We’ll go there. Is it far?”
“Two days on donkeys,” said Effans.
Bill calculated. “We shall want a guide — either Trefor, Effans or Trefor’s brother — and two donkeys at least to carry our tents and food — and six donkeys for ourselves. That’s nine. We’ve only got eight here. Effans, ask this fellow if he’s got another donkey.”
It turned out that Trefor’s brother had meant to ride home on a donkey himself, and take another donkey back with farm produce to sell, leaving only six. Effans bargained with him to come back the next week, complete with three donkeys to add to the six left behind.
“Then you can act as guide to these people, look you,” he said. “That will be money. You will have one donkey, they will have six, and there will be two for loads. That is much money for you, David, indeed to gootness!”
David agreed. He would come on the Wednesday of next week, bringing three donkeys to add to the six he would leave behind. Two to carry loads, one for himself, and six for the children, Mrs. Mannering and Bill.
The children were very excited. They ran round the donkeys, patted them, rubbed their long noses and sat on their broad backs. The donkeys seemed to like all the fuss. They stood stolidly there, their tails whisking, following the children with their eyes. Snowy darted about, running under first one donkey and then another, acting like a mad thing.
Trefor helped his brother to load up a donkey with packages of all kinds. Heavier and heavier grew the load, but the donkey stood patiently, seeming not to mind at all. Then, eager to be gone, it suddenly brayed.
Kiki had never heard a donkey bray before and she sailed straight up into the air with fright.
“Ee-ore, ee-ore!” brayed the donkey, and stamped his foot.
“Gracious! Now I suppose Kiki will practise braying too,” said Jack. “We shall have to stop her firmly if she does. It’s bad enough from a donkey — but brays from Kiki would be frightful.”
The donkey was loaded at last. David mounted his sturdy little beast, said a polite good-bye to everyone and rode off down the path, the loaded donkey being led after him by a rope he held in his hand.
“Now we can choose our own donkeys!” said Lucy-Ann in delight. “Aunt Allie — you choose first.”
“Well, they all look exactly alike to me!” said Mrs. Mannering. Bill spoke to Effans, asking him if he knew which donkey was the quietest. Effans turned to Trefor.
Trefor knew. He pointed out a little creature with a patient expression in its eyes, and said a few words in Welsh.
“He says that is the one for you,” said Effans. “It is quiet and good. Its name is Patience.”
“Oh, good — I’ll choose her then,” said Mrs. Mannering. “This is mine, children — the one with the black mark on her forehead.”
“I want this one,” cried Lucy-Ann, pulling at a sturdy animal that threw his head back continually, and stamped now and then. “I like him. What is his name, Trefor?”
Trefor said something nobody understood. Effans translated. “His name is Clover. This one is Grayling, and that one is Dapple. The other two are Buttercup and Daisy.”
Lucy-Ann had Clover. Jack had Grayling, and Dinah had Dapple. Bill had Buttercup, and Philip had Daisy. Each of them was delighted with his or her own special donkey.
“Let’s ride them now,” said Jack, mounting his little beast. “Come on, Bill. Aunt Allie, get on. We’ll go for our first ride now — up the path and back again.”
With Effans and his wife looking on in delight, the six rode off on their donkeys. They would not go fast uphill, and Bill warned each child not to try and make them. “They’ll trot coming down all right,” he said. “But it’s heavy going for them uphill, with our weight on their backs.”
It was great fun riding the grey donkeys up the steep mountain path. Mrs. Mannering was nervous at first when she came to the rocky bits, but her donkey was as surefooted as the others, and went steadily along on even the stoniest parts.