by Enid Blyton
‘What’s that, exactly?’ asked Anne.
‘Well - where new ideas are tried out,’ said Toby. ‘They deal mostly with very small planes down there - one-man fighter planes, I think. Don’t be scared if you hear noises from the airfield sometimes - bangs and bursts. I don’t know what they are, of course - it’s all to do with their experiments.’
‘I wish I could visit the airfield,’ said Dick. ‘I’m keen on planes. I’m going to fly one when I’m older.’
‘You’d better meet my cousin, then,’ said Toby. ‘He might take you up in one.’
‘I should like to meet him,’ said Dick, delighted. ‘So would Julian.’
‘We’d better get on now,’ said Julian, standing up. ‘We won’t go much higher - the view can’t be much better anywhere else!’
George and Anne went on ahead to find a good camping-place, while the three boys pushed the cart slowly over the heather. But it was Timmy who found the right place! He ran on ahead, feeling thirsty, so when he heard the sound of running water he ran to it at once.
From under a jutting rock gushed a little spring. It rippled down a rocky shelf and lost itself in a mass of lush greenery below. Rushes grew to mark the way it went, and George's sharp eyes could follow its path for quite a long way down the hill, outlined by the dark line of rushes.
‘Julian! Look what Timmy’s found!’ she called as she watched him lap from the clear spring water. ‘A little spring gushing out of the hillside! Hadn’t we better camp near it?’
‘Jolly good idea!’ shouted back Julian, and left the hand-cart to come and see. ‘Yes, this is just the place! A fine view - plenty of spring heather to camp on - and water laid on quite near!’
Everyone agreed that it was a fine place, and soon all the gear was taken from the hand-cart. The tents were not erected, for everyone meant to sleep under the stars that night, the evening was so warm. Nobody wanted to lie in a stuffy tent!
Anne unpacked the food parcel, wondering where would be the coolest place for a ‘larder’. She went over to the rock from which gushed the crystal-clear spring water. She pushed away the rushes around and discovered a kind of small cave hollowed out of the rock below the spring.
‘It would be as cool as anything in there,’ thought Anne, and put her hand through the falling water into the cave-like hole. Yes, it was icy cold! Was it big enough to hold the milk bottles and everything? Just about, she thought.
Anne loved arranging anything, and she was soon at work putting away the food and the milk into her queer larder. George laughed when she saw it.
‘Just like you, Anne!’ she said. ‘Well, we’d better put a towel by the spring, for certainly we shall get soaked every time we get out any food!’
‘Tell Timmy he’s not to try and poke his head into my larder,’ said Anne, pushing Timmy away. ‘Oh, now he’s all wet. Go and shake yourself somewhere else, Timmy - you’re showering me with drops of water!’
Toby had to leave them, for it was already past his supper-time. ‘See you tomorrow!’ he said. ‘How I wish I was staying up here with you! So long!’
Away he went down the hill with Binky at his heels. The Five looked at one another and grinned.
‘He’s nice - but it’s good to be alone again - just us Five,’ said George. ‘Come on - let’s settle in. This is the best camp we’ve ever had!’
Chapter Five
THE FIRST NIGHT - AND A MORNING VISITOR
‘What’s the time?’ said Julian, looking at his watch. ‘Good gracious - it’s almost eight o’clock! Anyone feel tired?’
‘Yes,’ said Dick, Anne and George, and even Timmy joined in with his deepest ‘Woof’.
‘With all that bicycling and then pushing that heavy cart up the hill, I can hardly move!’ said Dick. ‘I vote we have a simple supper - something out of Anne’s little larder - and then spread our rugs over some thick heather and sleep under the sky. Even up here, with a breeze, it’s warm. I should be stifled in a tent.’
‘Well, we’re all agreed on that,’ said Julian. ‘Anne, what do you suggest for a light supper?’
‘Bread, butter and some of Mrs Thomas’s farm cheese,’ said Anne promptly. ‘With a tomato or two if you like - and icy-cold milk and Benny’s strawberries to finish with. That is - if the milk has had time to get cold in the little hole under the spring.’
‘Sounds jolly good,’ said Julian. ‘What do you think, Timmy ? Anne, if you and George get the supper ready, Dick and I will prepare our heathery beds. Then we can all turn in as soon as possible. I honestly feel that once I sit down or lie down I’ll not be able to get up again!’
‘Same here,’ said Dick, and went off with Julian to find the best place for sleeping. They soon found one. They came across a giant of a gorse bush, thick, prickly and still full of golden blooms. In front of it was a stretch of very close-set heather, as springy as the best mattress in the world. Dick sat down on it and grinned at Julian.
‘Just made for us!’ he said. ‘We shall sleep like tops here. We hardly need a rug to lie on, it’s so close-grown. Help me up, Ju - my legs won’t do anything now I’ve sat down!’
Julian pulled him up and they called to the girls: ‘Anne! George! Bring the supper here. We’ve found a good place. It’s by this giant gorse bush.’
The girls came along with the meal, and the boys fetched a couple of rugs from the pile of things that they had brought in the hand-cart. They spread them on the heather.
‘I say! This certainly is a good place,’ said George, coming up with Anne and Timmy, carrying a loaf of bread, a pat of butter and tomatoes. Anne had the milk and the cheese. Timmy was carrying a little bag of his own biscuits.
‘The gorse bush will shelter us from too much wind,’ said Dick, taking the milk from Anne. ‘It’s an ideal spot - and the view is superb.’
It was a very happy supper they had, sitting in the heather, while the sun sank lower and lower in the west. The evenings were very light now, and certainly they would not need candles! They finished up everything, and then went to wash at the little spring that bubbled out so cheerfully.
They lay down on their rugs in the heather while it was still daylight. ‘Good night!’ said Dick, and promptly fell fast asleep. ‘Good night!’ called Julian, and lay for a few seconds looking at the view, which was now becoming dim and blue.
Timmy kept the two girls awake for a minute or two, trying to squeeze in between them. ‘Do keep still, Timmy,’ said George. ‘And just remember you’re on guard, even though I don’t expect there is anyone nearer than a mile - and that will be at Billycock Farm! Lie still now, or I’ll push you off the rug! Good night, Anne.’
George was soon asleep, and so was Timmy, tired out with so many miles of running. Anne lay awake for a few minutes, looking at the evening star which shone large and golden in the sky. She felt very happy. ‘I don’t want to grow up,’ she thought. ‘There can’t be anything nicer in the world than this - being with the others, having fun with them. No - I don’t want to grow up!’
Then she, too, fell asleep, and night came quietly down, with stars brilliant in the sky, and very little noise to be heard anywhere - just the gurgling of the spring some way away, and the far-off bark of some dog - perhaps Binky at the farm. The breeze died down, so that even that could not be heard.
No one except Timmy awoke at all that night. Timmy put up one ear when he heard a squeak just above his head. It came again and he opened one eye. It was a small black bat circling and swooping, hunting for insects. Its squeak was so high that only Timmy’s quick ear caught it. He put down his listening ear and went to sleep again.
Nobody stirred until a very loud noise awakened them. R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r! R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r! They all woke up with a jump and the boys sat up straight, startled. What could it be?
‘It’s a plane,’ said Julian, staring up at a small aeroplane flying over the hill. ‘It must be one from that airfield down there! I say - it’s five past nine! Five past nine - we’ve s
lept for nearly twelve hours!’
‘Well, I’m going to sleep for some more,’ said Dick, snuggling down into his heathery bed again and shutting his eyes.
‘No, you’re not,’ said Julian, giving him a shove. ‘It’s too good a day to waste in any more sleep. Hey, you girls - are you awake?’
‘Yes,’ called George, sitting up, rubbing her eyes. ‘That aeroplane wakened me. Anne’s awake, too - and you can see that Timmy is; he’s gone after a rabbit or something.’
‘We’ll all go and wash at the spring,’ said Anne, scrambling off the rug. ‘And George and I will get breakfast. Anyone like a boiled egg?’
The sun shone down out of a blue sky, and the little breeze awoke and began to blow again. They washed in the cold water, and Timmy drank it, lapping it thirstily as it splashed down over his nose. Then they had their breakfast.
It was easy to make a little fire in the shelter of the giant gorse bush, and boil the eggs in the saucepan. Bread and butter and tomatoes completed the simple meal, with cold creamy milk to wash it down.
In the middle of this Timmy began to bark frantically, but as his tail was wagging all the time, the others guessed that it must be Toby coming. They heard Binky’s answering bark, and then the dog himself appeared, panting and excited. He greeted Timmy first of all, and then ran round to give everyone a lick.
‘Hallo, hallo, hallo!’ came Toby’s voice, and he appeared round the gorse bush. ‘Had a good night? I say, aren’t you late - still having your breakfast? My word, you’re sleepy-heads! I’ve been up since six. I’ve milked cows and cleaned out a shed, and fed the hens and collected the eggs.’
The Five immediately felt ashamed of themselves! They gazed at Toby in admiration - why, he was quite a farmer!
‘I’ve brought you some more milk, bread and eggs and cake,’ he said, and put down a basket.
‘Jolly good of you,’ said Julian. ‘We must pay for any food we get from your farm, you know that. Any idea of how much we owe for yesterday’s food and for what you’ve brought today?’
‘Well, my mother says you don’t need to pay her,’ said Toby. ‘But I know you mean to - so I suggest that you pay me each time and I’ll put the money into a box and buy my mother a smashing present at the end - from you all. Will that do?’
‘That’s a good idea,’ said Julian. ‘We couldn’t possibly accept food if we didn’t pay for it - but I know what mothers are - they don’t like being paid in money for their kindness! So we’ll do what you say. Now, reckon up what we owe so far, and I’ll pay you.’
‘Right,’ said Toby in a business-like way, ‘I’ll charge you market prices, not top prices. I’ll just tot up the bill while you’re cleaning up and putting away what I’ve brought.’
The girls washed-up in the spring, and the boys carried everything there for Anne to put in her ‘larder’. Toby presented Julian with a neatly-written bill, which he at once paid. Toby receipted the bill and gave it back.
‘There you are - all business-like,’ he said. ‘Thanks very much. What are you going to do today? There are super caves to be explored if you like - or there’s the Butterfly Farm - or you can just come down to our farm for the day.’
‘No, not today,’ said Julian, afraid that they might make themselves a nuisance to Mrs Thomas. ‘I don’t feel like seeing caves this morning either - so dark and eerie on such a sunny day. What shall we do, girls?’
But before they could decide Binky and Timmy began to bark, each dog standing quite still, facing the same way - towards the giant gorse bush.
‘Who is it, Tim?’ asked George. ‘Go and see! Go on, then!’
Timmy ran behind the bush, followed by Binky, and then the children heard a surprised voice.
‘Hallo, Binky! What are you doing all the way up here? And who’s your friend?’
‘It’s Mr Gringle,’ said Toby. ‘One of the men who own the Butterfly Farm. He’s often up here with his net, because it’s a wonderful place for butterflies.’
A man came round the gorse bush - rather a peculiar figure, untidy, with glasses slipping down his nose, and his hair much too long. He carried a big butterfly net and stopped when he saw the five children.
‘Hallo!’ he said. ‘Who are all these, Toby? Quite a crowd!’
‘Friends of mine, Mr Gringle,’ said Toby solemnly. ‘Allow me to introduce them. Julian Kirrin, Dick Kirrin, Anne Kirrin, George Kirrin, their cousin - and their dog Timothy.’
‘Ha - pleased to meet you!’ said Mr Gringle, and came shambling forward, his big butterfly net over his shoulder. Behind his glasses shone curiously bright eyes. He nodded his head to each of the four cousins. ‘Three boys - and a girl. Very nice lot, too. You don’t look as if you’ll leave litter about or start fires in this lovely countryside.’
‘We shouldn’t dream of it,’ said George, delighted that he had thought she was a boy. Nothing pleased George as much as that! ‘Mr Gringle - could we see your Butterfly Farm, please? We would so like to!’
‘Of course, my dear boy, of course,’ said Mr Gringle, and his eyes shone as if he were very pleased. ‘We don’t often have visitors, so it’s quite an event when somebody comes along. This way, this way!’
Chapter Six
THE BUTTERFLY FARM
Mr Gringle led the way down the hill by a little path so overgrown that it was hardly possible to see it. Halfway down the little company heard a squealing noise - and then an excited little voice.
‘Toby, Toby! I’m here! Can I come with you?’
‘It’s Benny - and the pigling!’ said Anne, amused at the little couple making their way excitedly towards them. Timmy ran to Curly and sniffed him all over, still not quite sure that he wasn’t some kind of strange puppy.
‘What are you doing up here?’ said Toby sternly. ‘You know you’re not supposed to wander too far from the farm. You’ll get lost one of these days, Benny.’
‘Curly runned away,’ said Benny, looking up at his big brother with wide brown eyes.
‘You mean you wanted to find out where I’d gone so you came after me with Curly,’ said Toby.
‘Curly runned away, he runned fast!’ said Benny, looking as if he was going to cry.
‘You’re a scoundrel, Benny,’ said Toby. ‘You make that pigling of yours an excuse for getting about all over the place. You wait till Dad hears it - you’ll get such a spanking. Well - tail on to us now - we’re going to the Butterfly Farm. And if Curly runs away, let him! I’m tired of that pig.’
‘I’ll carry him,’ said Benny, and picked up the little creature in his arms. But he soon had to put him down, for Curly squealed so loudly that Timmy and Binky both leapt round him in great concern.
‘Hm - well - shall we proceed?’ asked Mr Gringle, walking on in front. ‘Quite a party we have today.’
‘Are your butterflies afraid of pigs or dogs?’ asked Benny, trotting beside him. ‘Shall we leave them outside?’
‘Don’t ask idiotic questions, Benny,’ said Toby. Then he gave a cry and caught Mr Gringle’s arm. ‘I say sir - look at that butterfly. Don’t you want to catch it? Is it rare?’
‘No,’ said Mr Gringle rather coldly. ‘It’s a meadow-brown - very common indeed. Don’t they teach you anything at school? Fancy not knowing that!’
‘Julian, do we have any butterfly lessons?’ asked Toby with a grin. ‘I say, Mr Gringle, what about you coming and teaching us about Cabbage Butterflies and Cauliflower Moths, and Red Admirals and Blue Captains and Peacock Butterflies and Ostrich Moths and...’
‘Don’t be an ass, Toby,’ said Julian, seeing that Mr Gringle had no sense of humour at all, and did not think this in the least funny. ‘Mr Gringle, are there many rare butterflies about here?’
‘Oh, yes, yes,’ said the Butterfly Man. ‘But not only that - there are so many of all kinds here, and it is easy to catch as many as I want for breeding purposes. One butterfly means hundreds of eggs, you know - and we hatch them out and sell them.’
He suddenly mad
e a dart to one side, almost knocking George over. ‘Sorry, boy!’ he said, making the others smile, ‘sorry! There’s a Brown Argus there - a lovely specimen, first I’ve seen this year! Stand clear, will you.’
The children - and the dogs, too - stood still as he tiptoed towards a small dark brown butterfly spreading its tiny wings as it sat on a flowering plant. With a swift downwards swoop the net closed over the plant, and in a trice the Butterfly Man had caught the fluttering insect. He pinched the net inwards, and showed the children the tiny creature.
‘There you are - a female Brown Argus, one of the family of the Blue Butterflies you see so often in full summer. She’ll lay me plenty of eggs and they’ll all hatch into fat little slug-like caterpillars, and...’
‘But this isn’t a blue butterfly,’ said Anne, looking through the fine net. ‘It’s dark brown, with a row of pretty orange spots along the margins of its wings.’
‘All the same, it belongs to the Blue Butterfly family,’ said Mr Gringle, taking it out with the gentlest of fingers and putting it into a tin case slung round his shoulders. ‘It’s probably come up from one of those hay meadows down in the valley there. In you go, my little beauty!’
‘Mr Gringle, quick - here’s a most lovely butterfly!’ called George. ‘It’s got greeny-black front wings with red spots, and lovely red back wings with dark green borders. Oh, quick - I’m sure you want this one!’
‘That’s not a butterfly,’ said Dick, who knew a good deal about them.
‘I should think not!’ said Mr Gringle, getting his net poised ready to swoop. ‘It’s a moth - a lovely little thing!’ Down went his net and the pretty little red and green insect fluttered in surprise inside it.
‘But moths don’t fly in the daytime,’ argued George. ‘Only at night.’