by A S Neill
"Land ahoy", he shouted. "Man the mizzen bulwarks. Weigh the anchor."
"The only scales here are fish ones", grinned Gordon, who was swabbing the deck, and the captain told him not to use mutinous language. Strange how a bridge makes one dignified and apart.
"Cast off!" ordered the captain, and they cast off their jackets. Chief Engineer David stood by the engines.
"Full speed ahead", signalled the captain, and David drew a lever. The ship ran backwards into the jetty, and there was a long and acrimonious telephonic conversation between the bridge and the engine-room. Betty said that the horses shouldn't hear such language. Robert kept signalling, and by trying all the levers David managed to pile the ship up on a sandbank: then while they waited for full tide they had a meeting and appointed a new captain and a new chief engineer. Bunny took over the bridge and Gordon the engines.
At full tide they managed to get clear of the harbour, and they steamed out into the open sea. The captain set a course due south, and the engines thudded their way through a calm sea, and the crew slept the sleep of the carefree. Jean took over the bridge while Bunny had breakfast and a nap. "But", he impressed on her, "stick to the course."
"Ay, ay, sir", she said and saluted, and Bunny gave her a gracious smile.
It was a lovely voyage. The horses munched their hay, and the children busied themselves with the ship. Stoking was a fag, and often the ship would stop because the steam gave out. Bunny took the bridge again. "Newcastle", he said airily, waving his hand towards a town on shore.
"I didn't know that Newcastle had mountains and woods behind it", said Robert, who was really jealous of Bunny's captainship.
"That", said Bunny in superior tones, "is because you didn't attend the Geography lessons enough, me lad."
"Oo", shivered Jean, "but it is cold, and going south should be warmer."
"That`s a ridge of high pressure coming from Iceland", said Bunny.
Then Robert saw snow on land.
"Funny thing to me", he said, "but if we are going south how comes it that we see snow in October? I propose we sail into that town in the distance and see what it is."
"Scarborough", said Bunny with a frown. "I know where I am going", but the others insisted on going in to see, and they slowly steamed into port.
"BERGENS FISKEBOLLER", spelled out Robert. "Good lord, the fool has brought us to Holland."
"Sweden", corrected Betty; "no wonder it was cold. I votes we get a new captain." And they elected Evelyn who at once turned direction south. They sailed all night and in the morning found themselves in Bergen again, so they made Betty captain. Betty was a good captain, and she took them south right enough.
"We've been steaming for a week now", said Gordon, "and we ought to be near Sizewell. There is no land to be seen. And the glass is falling and I don't like it. Betty can't manage a boat in a storm.”
The storm broke, and the ship plunged and creaked alarmingly. Betty had to lash herself to the bridge. The poor horses were terror-struck and very sick. The whole crew was sick, but sickness or no sickness the fires had to be kept going.
"We'll have to heave-to." said Bunny.
"Heave two what?" asked Betty.
"I don't know", said Bunny, "but in a storm you always heave-to."
"I'm heaving enough", said Evelyn, who indeed was very sick. It was a dreadful night, and again and again they thought their last moment had come. The storm lasted for three days and then it began to die down. Soon the sun shone, and they sailed on a calm green sea.
"Nice and warm", remarked Jean as she sunned herself on the deck.
That night they dropped anchor in Barcelona.
"We must have slipped through the straits of Gibraltar in the night", said Robert. "I votes we fire the captain and let me have a go again." And they did, and Robert steered them easily to Gibraltar, and out into the Atlantic, and then they ran out of coal. Then they suddenly remembered that they had wireless and they sent out an SOS. And luckily enough Neill picked it up.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"On the sea. We've got no coal and very little grub."
"Yes", said Neill, "I know you are on the sea, but where? Are you still on the coast of Scotland?"
"I don't think so", said David, who was doing the transmitting. "We came to Barcelona by mistake."
"Barcelona?" said Neill. "Barcelona? What the devil are you doing there?"
"We passed Gib. two days ago", said David. "But", said Neill, "it's all very simple. When a ship is sinking it wirelesses its exact position. What is your exact position?"
"I don't exactly know", said David, "but there's a big ship lying on our left and some flying fishes on the right, and - "
"What's your latitude and longitude, you fool?"
"What are they?" asked David.
"I don't know", said Neill. "Every ship carries them. Look in the captain's locker. Hullo, do you hear me? Hullo! Hullo!"
But the ship's batteries had run down. Neill looked at Pyecraft. "We've got to find them", he said.
Well, to cut a long story short, they found them, and they towed the ship over to a stone-crewed White Star liner, from which they filled their bunkers and got food and fodder. Then, with the airship guiding them, they eventually reached Sizewell beach. The ship couldn't come in because of her draught, and the children were taken ashore by airship, while the horses were brought in next day. The boys rowed out in boats and made the horses swim ashore.
And the next chapter will tell how they broke-in the horses.
TO BE CONTINUED.
- Discussion Of Chapter 4
"Thanks, Neill, for making me kill the bull", said Michael.
"You couldn't have done it in real life", said Evelyn.
"Not so sure", said Michael cockily, and he lifted the poker and made passes at a cushion.
"I think that bit about the ship was just silly", said Robert. "As if we'd make mistakes like that. And anyone knows that heave-to means to shove her nose into the teeth of the gale and go dead slow."
"I thought it meant heaving two things overboard to make the ship lighter", said Evelyn with a slight laugh.
"I wish you hadn't brought in that German", said Bunny. "I want only us to be alive."
"But he is a nice chap", put in Jean.
"Nice or not nice, I don't care", said Bunny. "You have to kill him, Neill.”
David was thinking hard.
"No need", he said. "He'll die off and then there will be no more, 'cos you see, he has no wife and there will be no children."
"You've no wife either", said Jean.
"No", said David, "but when we grow up... oh Lord, think of it, you chaps, there'll be no dames to marry but these three awful frumps."
Robert looked at the girls dispassionately.
"They are pretty awful, I admit, David; but, you see, if we don't marry them the human race will die out. The only hope is that Pyecraft will want to become a sultan and have a harem. That would settle it."
Betty snorted.
"If you are the only husbands for us the sooner the human race dies out the better. And Neill makes the boys do all the brave things and it isn't fair."
"It isn't so much fun being the last people alive as I thought", said Jean. "You should make another cloud come home and make them all alive again, Neill."
"Hard luck on Corks, who has no head", said Robert.
"And Branwen, who is the cement bed of the workshop", giggled Evelyn. "No, don't let them come alive again. There are too many left alive already!" and she looked significantly at Robert, who put out his tongue at her.
"There's one thing not good about the story", said Gordon, "and that is, there is no time."
"Time for what?" I asked.
"No time. You don't say how long we have been left alive. You never say: On the tenth of August so and so happened."
"Why should I? Time is marked by events. An hour of the toothache or listening to Evelyn's gramophone is a long, long time, but a
n hour at the cinema is a short time."
"Oh", sighed Betty, "if only we could go to the cinema in the story."
"Cinema", said David contemptuously, "when there are dogs to kill! Ass.”
Chapter 5
"Breaking-in horses", said Pyecraft, "is not easy. I don't know the English method, but in the Wild West we... but let me show you."
The horses had been housed in various class-rooms, and Pyecraft took one out on a halter, tied a long rope to it, and in the centre of the hockey-field let it run round him. It did so, kicking up its heels wildly. When it had tired itself a little Pyecraft gradually shortened the rope, so that the circle became less and less. But as it got more and more excited, for not only did the unaccustomed rope offend it, but also its fear of man made it wild with terror. It tried to savage Pyecraft with its teeth, and he gave it a sharp rap over the nose with a switch. He went through the performance again and again patiently, and gradually the horse allowed itself to be drawn in meekly. Then Pyecraft put harness on it... he had to tie up one foot to keep it still... and he yoked the horse to a log of wood. Then there was the very devil to pay. It went careering down the field with the log bumping after it, and they could see that it was terror-struck, but again exhaustion brought quiet, and Pyecraft had it walking and pulling.
"The next stage", said Pyecraft, "is to put a saddle on it and ride it. As you can see, I haven't the figure for this, but Neill will show you how this is done."
Neill suddenly remembered that he had cementing to do, and went away hurriedly.
"Just like him", sneered David, and then he was sorry he had spoken, for at the sound of his voice Pyecraft turned to him.
"You show them, David."
David rapidly wondered if Neill didn't require him to help mix the cement, but Betty looked at him hard, and David blushed.
"Okay", he said, and he lifted the saddle and approached the steed. They had to trip the horse up and hold it down while David put the saddle on. Up it jumped, and the brave David jumped into the saddle... well, he leapt, but the saddle was not there. He reddened and set his teeth. He chased the horse round the field, caught it by the mane, and this time vaulted into the saddle. He was there for the thousandth part of a second, but he tried again. Sixteen times he was thrown, but finally he held on, and the brute careered round the field in four-foot jumps. It was great horsemanship, as Pyecraft said, and when finally David got the horse to trot round quietly there was a spontaneous cheer from the group. That did it, and David just escaped having his neck broken.
David volunteered to break-in all the horses, but the others furiously rejected his offer. The girls showed themselves as efficient and as brave as the boys, and Jean even bet them by riding her horse standing on her head on its bare back. The problem was Neill's horse. He refused to break it in on the ground that the horse was a noble animal and it was a crime to break its spirit.
"Which means you funk it", said Bunny brutally.
Neill laughed scornfully. "Any fool cold break-in a horse", he cried. "Too tame for me. Give me an elephant or a rhinoceros and I'll show you."
"Easy to say that", said David, "when you know there aren't any near you. Are you going to break-in your horse or not."
"No", said Neill. "I am a civilised being, and if you fools like to go chasing terriers on horseback, I hope you get a good day for it. And that's final."
"I don't suppose you can help being a coward", said Michael sadly. "Something in your childhood likely, a fright or something like that. We pity you, but it's tiresome for us to be saddled with someone who doesn't pull his weight."
"Pyecraft has weight enough for himself and me", said Neill.
One morning the children lined up at the front door, their horses champing their bits noisily. Neill's horse, which Bunny had broken-in, was to be the packhorse for carrying the puppies home. The dog pack was known to be along Saxmundham way, and all looked forward to a pleasant run. Each child had revolver and sword and also a cane. They swung out of the front drive in a cloud of dust.
Near Saxmundham they heard the noise of yapping and baying, and they came through a wood into a glade and found the pack attacking an old bull.
"Now for it", whispered Robert. "While the old ones are attacking we get behind and snaffle the pups. Come on", and they rode forwards. It was easy work to lean down and lift the pups, and soon every child had a couple. Then it was that the pups squeaked, and the whole pack left the bull and attacked the riders.
"Home!" shouted Michael, and led the way. They thundered through the wood. Suddenly there was a scream: they looked back in time to see the Alsatian leap on Jean and bring her to the ground. They wheeled and charged the snarling pack. "Swords, lads!" roared Robert, and they slashed their way into the centre. Jean was bleeding from a score of bites, and a large collie had her by the throat. "Biff!" said Gordon, and drove his sword through its throat.
His blow had been so terrific that he overbalanced and fell into the centre of open red mouths, and the Alsatian sprang at him. Gordon rammed the muzzle of his revolver into its mouth and pulled the trigger. The trigger jammed.
Things were by this time serious. Six children against a pack of perhaps a hundred dogs. Two members unhorsed, and the horses of the others terrified and almost uncontrollable. The horses of Gordon and Jean had stampeded. The revolvers were emptied and each shot found its mark, but there was no time to reload. It had to be swords, and swords it was. David beheaded a great Dane with one blow. They tried to form a ring round their fallen comrades, but the danger from their horses' feet was too great.
"Dismount!" cried Robert, and he led the way. So there the valiant band stood slashing away like blazes. Some of them managed to reload and the shots kept the pack back, but only for a moment.
"Oh, for a machine-gun", sighed Bunny.
"It's strapped on the packhorse", said Gordon, but the packhorse was shivering under the trees a hundred yards away. David, who had seen Tom Mix in the films, put his fingers to his lips and whistled. The horse pricked its ears, nothing more, but the whistle awoke old memories in the dogs and they came charging. Suddenly Betty gripped Robert by the arm. "Look!", she said, and pointed. Neill was swinging along the trees from branch to branch like Tarzan. He reached the packhorse and quickly unstrapped the machine-gun.
"Run for it!" he yelled, and they picked up Gordon and Jean and bolted. The dogs were so startled by this manoeuvre that they paused, and that pause was their death warrant, for the machine gun began to spit red death, and in a few moments the battle was over. The Alsatian lay dead on the field.
It was a successful outing in one sense, but in another it failed, for they had to drop their puppies in the fight. Only two remained. They very soon took to domesticity, but awkwardly enough they had no hate of rats. They began to fraternise with them, and they romped and played games with them. The inventive Gordon solved the matter by making a wooden rat in the workshop with nails for teeth. Then he made it bite the dogs, and they got furious. That ended the fraternisation, and soon the house was clear of rats.
Charge Of The Light Brigade; by F K Waechter
It would be misleading to say that the chief interest of the group was fighting. They lived their lives very much as they used to do, and they asked Neill to give them lessons. Pyecraft and he sometimes went to play golf at Thorpeness, but that was difficult owing to long grass on the greens and whins in the fairway. However, as they had hundreds of new balls, they got accustomed to going round in 435 and losing sixty balls on the round. The professional had been on the first tee when he was turned to stone, and Neill felt so uncomfortable driving off under his stony eye that he carried him round to the other side of the clubhouse. But it was not the state of the course that made Neill find little pleasure in a round. No, what troubled him was the fact that, every time he played the long 3.rd hole, he had to pass the statue of his friend Watson. He had always to blush and look the other way, for the cloud had caught Watson kicking his ball into a better
lie.
There were times when the children were sad.
"It's my birthday to-day", sighed Evelyn, "and that's one of the rotten things of being left alive like this: there's nobody to send you presents."
"There are millions of presents in the shops", said Jean.
"Yes", said Evelyn with a tear in her eye, "I know, but it isn't quite the same. And I miss the post. It's awful having no letters or telegrams."
Pyecraft overheard her, and in the afternoon he went off in the airship to London and came back with several parcels. He slipped down to the post-office and put on the uniforms of three postmen and a telegraph boy, and came up to the school and knocked at the door. Then he handed to Michael, who answered the door, four large parcels addressed to Miss Evelyn Williams. Evelyn said it was the sweetest thing that had ever been done to her.
One night they sat and talked about what they missed most. Neill said it made him miserable to have no electric power in his workshop, that he had to drive his lathes by foot power. The boys solved this problem by tried to solve the problem later by fixing up a Daimler engine in the shop... and then Neill complained that he had to crank it up and they threatened to take it away again.
Pyecraft grumbled at the fact that there were no new books in the world, but the boys could see no disadvantage in this. Robert said he missed the comic papers a lot, and at Pyecraft's suggestion he flew to London and brought back an enormous bundle of old ones from Fleetway House. Gordon regretted that the university career he had planned for himself would never come off.