“Don’t worry! I’m going to be sensible — and, dear me, it will be quite a change to be rid of four noisy ruffians and an even noisier bird for a few days, Bill, won’t it?”
All the children were awake very early the next day. Snowy the kid, who was a real sleepy-head in the mornings, didn’t want to wake up at all, and snuggled deeper into Philip’s blankets as the boy tried to get out of bed.
Kiki took her head from under her wing and scratched her poll. “Dithery Slithery,” she remarked, which meant that she had spied Philip’s slow-worm. It was coiled up in a corner of the room. It would very much have liked to sleep on Philip’s bed, but it was afraid of Snowy, who had a habit of nibbling anything near him.
The boys got up and looked out of the window. It was a really perfect day. The mountains towered up into the fresh morning sky, as beautiful as ever.
“They look as if someone had just been along and washed them,” said Jack. “The sky looks washed too — so very very clean and new.”
“I like the feel of an early morning,” said Philip, putting on his shorts. “It has a special new feel about it — as if it were the first morning that ever happened!”
Snowy went over to the corner where Sally the slow-worm was, and the slow-worm at once wriggled away under the chest of drawers. Philip picked her up and she slid gracefully into his pocket.
“Have to get you a few flies for breakfast, Sally,” said Philip. “Shut up, Kiki — you’ll wake the rest of the household with that awful cough.”
Kiki could give a terrible, hollow cough at times, which she had copied from an old uncle of Jack’s, and she was practising it now. She stopped when Philip spoke to her, and hopped to Jack’s shoulder.
“Funny bird, silly bird,” said Jack affectionately, scratching her neck. “Come on, Philip — let’s see if the girls are up.”
They were just getting up, both of them thrilled at the fine day and the idea of going camping in the mountains. “Have you got that horrid slow-worm on you?” asked Dinah fearfully, looking at Philip.
“Yes, somewhere,” said Philip, feeling all over him. “There’s one thing about Sally Slithery — she does get about!”
Dinah shuddered and went to wash in the bathroom. Snowy the kid was there, nibbling the cork bath-mat, which he evidently thought was delicious.
“Oh, Snowy! Mrs. Evans won’t be at all pleased with you!” said Dinah, and shooed the kid out of the door. He went to find Philip. He was quite one of the family now.
Mrs. Mannering’s hand was stiff and sore that morning, but she said very little about it, not wanting to upset the children. She was glad it was such a lovely day for them, and watched with amusement as Mrs. Evans carefully packed up all the food she had prepared for the children to take with them.
“If you eat all that you’ll never be able to ride home on the donkeys,” she said. “You’ll be too fat.”
“They must not go hungry,” said kind Mrs. Evans. “There! I think I have thought of everything. Children, you must use one donkey for the food and the other for everything else, look you. I will see that David straps everything on well.”
The children listened to her kind, sing-song voice as they sat at breakfast. They felt very happy, and the only thing that spoilt their pleasure was the fact that Bill and Mrs. Mannering were not coming with them. On the other hand, they would be freer without grown-ups!
Kiki gave a hiccup, with one eye on Mrs. Mannering. She looked at the parrot severely. “Kiki! You did that on purpose. Do you want your beak smacked?”
“Pardon,” said Kiki, and went off into a cackle of laughter. Effans choked over his bacon, trying to laugh with his mouth full, and went purple in the face. His bacon went down the wrong way, and he got the hiccups too.
“Pardon, look you!” he said to Mrs. Mannering, with such a horrified look on his face that everyone roared with laughter.
“Now here is David, all ready for you!” cried Mrs. Evans from the door, where she had gone to chase away a turkey that had suddenly appeared. It made a gobbling noise that scared Snowy terribly. Kiki, of course, at once gobbled too, and the turkey looked into the kitchen in amazement. “Shoo!” said Mrs. Evans. “Good morning, David, it’s early you are, and a nice day you have brought with you!”
“Indeed to goodness I have,” said David in Welsh, and smiled timidly at the company in the big kitchen. His donkeys crowded round him, sturdy and patient, their harness clinking and glinting.
“Come on!” yelled Jack, suddenly feeling too excited to sit at the table any longer. “Come on! Let’s pack the things on the donkeys and go!”
They all rushed out. Soon David and Effans were strapping everything on two donkeys. One donkey had big panniers each side for food. The other had the things strapped across his broad little back. They stood perfectly still, their ears twitching as a fly or two settled on them.
“Well — are we ready to start?” said Philip. “I think we’ve got everything. Oh, gosh, where are my field-glasses?”
At last everyone and everything was ready. It had been explained to David that Bill and Mrs. Mannering could not come, and Effans had said he would care for the two extra donkeys till the children came back. David did not seem too pleased to think he was to go alone with the children. He looked rather scared, Bill thought. Poor timid little fellow! Bill wished it was Effans who was going with the children, not David. Still, Jack and Philip were used to camping out and could be trusted to be sensible.
“Good-bye!” called everyone. “See you in a few days’ time. Take care of your hand, Mother! Now we’re off — off to the Vale of Butterflies! Good-bye, everyone!”
Chapter 7
ON THE WAY
WITH Bill, Mrs. Mannering, Effans and Mrs. Evans waving and calling good-bye, the party set off on their donkeys. They had to go by Trefor the shepherd’s little cabin, and the donkeys picked their way steadily up the steep hillside.
Snowy ran beside them, bobbing about under the donkeys’ bodies as he pleased. They seemed to like him, and Dapple kept putting his head down to the kid whenever he came near. Kiki was perched as usual on Jack’s shoulder, jogging up and down contentedly, snapping her beak, and making a few quiet remarks into Jack’s ear.
They came to Trefor’s cabin. He was on the hillside, seeing to a sick sheep. He came to meet them, his untidy hair blowing in the wind, and his eyes shining as blue as forget-me-nots.
There was a conversation between the two men in Welsh. David sounded rather complaining. Trefor seemed to be pooh-poohing what he said. David got out a map that Bill had given him, and appeared to be saying that he didn’t understand it at all.
Trefor then spoke earnestly, pointing in this direction and that, poking David with his finger every time he wanted to make a point go home. The children thought he must be telling David the exact way to go.
“I hope David really does know the way,” said Jack. “He might have thought Bill would help him with the map if Bill had been going. It looks to me as if he’s telling Trefor he’s not too certain of the way.”
“Well, what does it matter?” said Philip, pushing Snowy off with his hand as the kid tried to jump up onto his donkey with him. “I’d like to see the Vale of Butterflies — but so long as we go off camping in those gorgeous mountains, that’s all that matters.”
“Yes. We shall see heaps of birds and animals anyway,” said Jack, feeling that Philip was right. “Come on, David! Let’s go!”
The timid David leapt onto his donkey at once. He called good-bye to Trefor, and the little company set off once more along the mountainside, taking a narrow path that went neither very far up, nor very far down.
It was glorious riding there, so high, looking down on the valley far below. It was partly in the sun and partly in the shadow, for the sun was not yet high. Swallows flew round them catching flies, their steel-blue wings gleaming in the sun. Kiki watched them out of her sharp eyes. She had often tried fly-catching herself, but she knew she was no good at it. Anyway, flies didn’t taste as good as fruit!
They ambled on until everyone felt hungry and thirsty, and they came to a copse of birch-trees with a small stream nearby.