Stig of the Dump

by Clive King

  ‘I don’t see there’s anything to laugh at,’ snapped Lou almost tearfully, and she stamped her foot.

  They came out at last into the lane, crossed over, and there was the entrance to the Fawkham-Greenes’ drive. They could see cars parked outside the house, big ones and little ones, and lights blazed from the windows and from over the front door. Lou’s eyes began to sparkle, but now Barney started to feel uncomfortable. He liked parties almost as much as Lou, once they had started, but he felt shy about going up to the big door and ringing the bell. As Lou skipped up the steps and pulled the handle, Barney took a grip on his axe and looked back along the shadowy drive. And yes! He was almost sure! Something had slipped between two rhododendron bushes. It was what he had thought. Someone was lurking behind them. It was Stig!

  The front door opened and Mrs Fawkham-Greene

  stood there looking a little distracted already.

  ‘Hallo, do come in,’ she cried. ‘Oh, it’s the puma and the cave man, how sweet of you to come, and how realistic!’ She sniffed a little at the animal smell that came in with them, but there was a wail from behind her and she had to turn round to the mass of children of all ages who were hurtling about the big hall or standing dumbly in corners. ‘Oh dear, who is it behind the mask there, Lone Ranger or is it Zorro? Please don’t poke Little Bo-Peep with your sword, will you, dear? She’s only three and she doesn’t like it.’

  Lou looked round excitedly at the dressed-up children. There were peasant girls and ladies from the Middle Ages and cowboys and kings and queens and cowboys and a space-man who was looking rather hot already and more cowboys and Indians and squaws, but she seemed to be the only one in a real animal skin. Barney was looking at the walls of the hall.

  ‘Look at all those things on the wall, Lou!’ he whispered. There was hardly a square foot of the wall that was not covered with trophies: heads of gazelles and hartebeest and gnus, bunches of spears and assegais and leather shields, racks of swords and daggers and old guns. ‘This is a super place,’ murmured Barney. ‘I’m jolly glad we came, aren’t you?’

  Mrs Fawkham-Greene clapped her hands loudly. ‘Now then, children!’ she called. ‘I think we’re all here, so we’ll start off by dancing Sir Roger de Coverley. I expect you all know it, don’t you? The girls do anyway, and they can show the boys.’

  Most of the girls began twittering with pleasure, and formed themselves in line ready to begin. But there were glum looks among the boys, and they stood around grasping various weapons. It was going to be that sort of party, was it?

  ‘Come on, boys, line up! All pistols, tomahawks, ray-guns, and stone axes on the oak chest, if you please,’ carolled Mrs Fawkham-Greene, as she sat down at a big grand piano. The boys lined up sheepishly and the music began, and the girls hopped and skipped and the boys blundered and bumped, and everyone was rather glad when the dance came to an end.

  Mrs Fawkham-Greene had got everything well organized. After the dancing they had guessing games, and acting games, and sitting-in-a-ring games, and she had just handed out pieces of paper and pencils to everyone who could write, and got one of the older girls to do ring-a-ring-o’-roses with the tinies when – all the lights went out!

  ‘The fuses!’ wailed Mrs Fawkham-Greene. ‘One of you older ones get a game going, will you? I won’t be long, I hope.’ And she made her way into the back part of the house.

  There was a lot of scuffling and squeaking in the dark, only lit by the flickering flames from the big fireplace. Of course it had to be Lou who thought of something.

  ‘We’ll have a leopard-hunt,’ she said. ‘Give me twenty to get away, and you’ve all got to hunt me and put me in a cage. All right?’

  There were shouts of agreement, boys scrambled for their weapons in the dark, several people counted up to twenty, everybody shouted ‘Coming’, and except for a few tiny ones who stayed by the fire, everyone scattered up the stairs and along corridors, whooping and chattering and telling each other to be quiet.

  Barney was one of the first up the broad staircase and on to the dark landing. Moonlight came in through a leaded window and shone on a figure standing there. He was just going to say something to it when he noticed it was an empty suit of old-fashioned armour. But there was someone coming up the stairs close behind him. He saw the head-dress of the Indian Chief. ‘Seen the leopard?’ asked the Indian.

  ‘No,’ said Barney. ‘Let’s go along here.’

  They went along the corridor and at the end there was a bare wooden staircase going up and down. ‘Come on up!’ said the Indian. They climbed the stairs, their feet making quite a noise on the bare boards, and found themselves almost at the top of the house. There was an unlived-in feeling up there. The Indian tried the door of a room, and it opened. There was nothing but boxes and trunks in the room, and there was a big window through which the moonlight came.

  ‘That leads on to the roof, that window,’ said the Indian. ‘I know, I’ve been there.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s on the roof. The leopard I mean,’ said Barney.

  ‘Might be,’ said the Indian. He struggled to open the window. They both got through it and out on to a ledge with a parapet. The roof sloped up behind them. They leaned over the parapet and looked a long way down to the moonlit lawn.

  And there, in the middle of the lawn, an animal was crouching. Barney’s heart gave a bump although he knew he was only hunting for his sister. ‘Look!’ he gasped to his friend the Indian. ‘There it is, the leopard. Down there!’

  ‘Crumbs!’ exclaimed the Indian. ‘Doesn’t it look real! Come on, down again, quick!’

  They got back in through the window, bumped through the box-room, clattered down the stairs, and made for the main staircase, calling out: ‘Outside, everybody. The leopard’s in the garden. Everybody out!’ Hunters who had been crawling under beds and giggling in closets and wardrobes made for the staircase too, and the big door was left open and they all streamed out into the moonlit garden.

  ‘In the shrubbery!’ shouted Barney. ‘Leopard’s in the shrubbery! Let’s drive it out!’ Pirates, cowboys, and shepherdesses piled into the shrubbery, whooping and crashing, and out of the corner of his eyes Barney saw something bolt out of the undergrowth and into the shadow of the house. ‘Tally-ho!’ he hallooed, and sped after it along the gravel path and round the back, past glasshouses and outbuildings. He heard running feet behind him: the Indian and some other hunters were on the trail too.

  In front of him were two big wooden gates, open, and leading into a paved stable yard with buildings all round it. ‘In there!’ he panted. ‘I saw it go.’ He dashed through the gateway, and at least half a dozen others clattered in with him. ‘Quick! Shut the gates! Don’t let it get out!’ he heard the Indian say, and the heavy wooden doors banged to behind him. But Barney stood rooted to the paving, unable to move.

  The other children behind him were suddenly still and silent too. The boy dressed as the Indian gave a shaky whisper: ‘There – there’s two leopards!’

  The moonlight shone clearly on the roofs of the buildings and the chequered paving of the yard. And clearly in the moonlight, like two figures on a stage, two animal forms crouched facing each other. Both had golden, black-spotted fur and long tails. But as one of the

  crouching beasts turned its head to glare at the hunters by the gate, its eyes flashed green and alive in the moonlight. And under the mask of the other beast Barney recognized the white face of his sister.

  How long they all stood like that, Barney didn’t know – Barney grasping his stone axe but feeling as if he was turned to stone himself, Lou crouched there, desperately willing her whole body to turn into a real live wild beast to meet this awful peril, and the real live leopard itself – because it couldn’t be anything else – frightened by the hullabaloo, mystified by the strange half-beast half-human that faced it, cornered and angry. It was like a nightmare game, when nobody knew what the next move should be.

  And then Barney heard the Indian behind
him give another hoarse whisper: ‘Two cave men!’

  For out of the shadows at the far end of the yard appeared a figure that might have been his own reflection in a mirror: shaggy hair, rabbit-skins, and bare limbs. But this one carried a long spear with a glinting blade, and it was levelled at the real leopard. And suddenly Barney’s limbs unfroze, and he whispered, ‘Stig!’

  The leopard shifted its gaze. It shot a glance at Barney. It looked back at the unmoving Lou. It turned to the advancing Stig and gave a low growl. Its tail twitched and it began tucking its feet under it as a cat does when it is about to charge and spring. Stig crouched too, still pointing his spear. And Barney saw that in the shadows beyond Stig was the open door of an empty stable.

  The leopard had decided which was its most dangerous enemy and now kept its eyes on Stig. Barney crept forward behind it. He was almost within axe-reach of its twitching tail.

  The leopard stopped shifting its feet. Its tail lay still for an instant. Its muscles were tense. It sprang, but as it sprang Barney brought his axe down on the tip of its tail, Lou burst into life with a sudden roar, Stig threw himself sideways, and the startled and confused leopard jumped twice as high and twice as far as it had meant to and vanished into the dark doorway of the stable. Barney hurled himself forward, slammed the lower half of the door shut and then the upper half, and gasped: ‘Quick, quick, quick, somebody bolt it!’ Lou and the Indian struggled with the bolts, and at last they all sank down on the paving feeling exhausted and weak.

  The other children had now opened the gates of the yard and the rest of the party were streaming in, chattering and asking questions.

  ‘Where’s the leopard?’

  ‘Have you caught the leopard?’

  ‘Is the game over now?’

  ‘What d’you mean it was a real leopard?’

  ‘Let’s have another leopard-hunt. It was super fun.’

  ‘Why can’t we have another leopard-hunt?’

  ‘What d’you mean the leopard’s in the stable? There’s the leopard!’

  ‘Two leopards? Well that’s not fair, nobody told us there were two leopards.’

  ‘Why can’t we see the other leopard in the stable? Let’s let it out and have another hunt.’

  And the boy in the Zorro suit was actually fumbling with the bolts and trying to open the door of the stable. Stig, who was standing there, rapped him over the knuckles with the haft of his spear.

  ‘All right, cave man!’ said Zorro crossly. ‘I can open the door if I want to. It’s not your business!’ But Stig turned his spear round and threatened him with the point, and Zorro retreated, saying: ‘No need to get nasty!’

  Then suddenly all the windows of the big house blazed with light again, and then the voice of Mrs Fawkham-Greene came from the front steps, calling: ‘Children, children, you’re all to come in at once! Everyone inside, as quick as ever you can!’ She sounded as if she was almost frightened of something.

  As they all trooped round to the front entrance they noticed a big truck in the drive, and strange men standing around, and some of the men had rifles! Mrs Fawkham-Greene was standing on the steps flapping her hands. ‘Come along, come along!’ she cried. ‘It was so naughty of you to go outside. One, two, three, four, five… Just go in the hall and stand still while I count you all!’ They stood wide-eyed in the hall as Mrs Fawkham-Greene slammed the big door behind her, leant against it with a white face, counted the guests and then counted again, and muttered to herself: ‘Oh, dear, how many should there be? Little Jonathan couldn’t come because of measles, and then there’s Betty Strickwell didn’t answer…’

  The children began to join in with helpful voices:

  ‘Where’s the other cave man?’ ‘Yes, there’s supposed to be two cave men, I saw them.’

  ‘And there’s two –’

  ‘Please, please, be quiet, you only confuse me,’ moaned Mrs Fawkham-Greene. She turned to a strange man in a raincoat who was standing by the door. ‘I think they’re all here, Mr Er,’ she said. ‘Would you like to explain?’

  ‘Sorry to spoil your party, kiddies,’ said the man. ‘I’m from Bottom’s Circus, and I’m afraid one of our animals got loose from its travelling cage and it must be somewhere about here. But don’t worry, we’ll soon catch him.’

  There were excited gasps and whistles from the children. Then Lou spoke up.

  ‘It was a leopard, wasn’t it?’ she said.

  The man looked at Lou. ‘Yes, girlie,’ he smiled. ‘Like you, only a bit fiercer.’

  And Barney stepped forward. ‘It’s all right sir,’ he said. ‘We put it in the stables, me and Stig and Lou. I’ll help you get it out if you like.’

  Chapter Eight

  Midsummer Night

  Barney lay awake on his bed. It was hot, and he hung his feet over the edge of the bed to cool them down. Somewhere in the room a summer mosquito was whining about, and from outside came the drone of a farm tractor working late, and the barking of dogs from the village. Though the curtains were drawn he knew it was still daytime outside. It would be daytime for hours yet, but he had to go to bed in the daylight just because he was only eight. Still, he wouldn’t go to sleep. He couldn’t, it was so hot and stuffy.

  He had asked his Grandmother why he couldn’t stay up until it was dark and she had explained that today was the longest day and tonight was the shortest night, and that it wouldn’t get dark until after ten o’clock, far too late for a boy of eight to stay up. All right, he thought, if it was the shortest night he wouldn’t go to sleep at all. He would see what it was like not to sleep.

  Barney thought of Stig. I bet he doesn’t go to sleep when it’s daylight, he thought. And he’s – how old? How old was Stig? About eight? Eighty? Eight hundred? Eight thousand?

  Thinking of figures made Barney feel drowsy and before he knew it he had gone off to sleep.

  It was Grandmother going to bed that woke him up again. She only opened the bedroom door a little to see if he was all right, but suddenly he was wide awake. Bother! He’d been asleep after all. But he wouldn’t do it again. He’d stay awake now.

  He got out of bed and looked out of the window. At first he thought it was still daytime, but no, the light came from a big white moon in the south. And in the north there was still a bluish light as if the sun had not gone far out of sight behind the elm trees.

  He wouldn’t go back to bed. He’d go out in the moonlight. He’d go and see Stig! His heart was thumping as he thought of the idea. It was still very warm, so he slipped on a pair of shorts and nothing else, and crept carefully out of the bedroom and down the creaking stairs. He pulled at the stiff bolts of the front door, trying to make no noise, but Dinah the spaniel, who slept downstairs, must have heard him, for she gave a questioning bark.

  ‘Be quiet, Dinah,’ whispered Barney crossly. ‘It’s only me. If you don’t shut up you’ll spoil everything.’

  At last he managed to undo the stiff bolts and the lock, and the door swung open. He went out into the shadow of the house, and then into the moonlight. Everything was very still. Suddenly he jumped as he heard his name called.

  ‘Barney!’

  It was Lou, looking down from her bedroom window.

  ‘Barney, what are you doing?’ Lou hissed.

  ‘Just going out. Nothing to do with you,’ answered Barney quietly.

  ‘But it’s the middle of the night!’

  ‘I know. I don’t care. It’s light as day.’

  ‘Golly, so it is,’ said Lou. ‘But where are you going, Barney?’

  ‘I’m not going to tell you.’

  ‘Oh, please, Barney. Don’t go yet! Can’t I come too?’ Lou begged.

  Barney looked at the dark shadows under the fruit trees and thought of how shadowy the pit would be. Perhaps it would be better with two.

  ‘All right. You can be my bodyguard. Hurry up then!’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Barney!’ Lou’s head disappeared from the window, and soon Barney heard the click of
her door and the creak of the stairs. When she appeared at the front of the house she had Dinah with her.

  ‘I thought I’d bring Dinah too,’ she said, ‘As an extra bodyguard. Where are we going, Barney?’

  ‘I’m going to see Stig.’

  Lou gasped. ‘Really and truly, Barney?’

  ‘Of course. You can come with me to the pit. But I’ll have to ask him if he wants to see you.’

  ‘All right, Barney,’ said Lou, with wide-open eyes.

  They set off together through the moonlit garden.

  ‘The red roses look black in the moonlight,’ said Lou.

  ‘Do they?’ said Barney. ‘I can see as well in the moonlight as in the daytime. Come on!’

  They went through the gate into the paddock. Flash, the old pony, was awake and cropping the dewy grass. He tossed his head and snorted in surprise when he saw them, then went back to his feeding. They crossed the paddock, Dinah running in rings along rabbit trails, and came to the edge of the copse. In spite of the strong moonlight and the faint glow in the north, it looked very dark under the trees. They stood still.

  ‘Sh!’ said Barney.

  ‘What is it?’ whispered Lou.

  ‘Isn’t it quiet?’ whispered Barney.

  It was so quiet that they could hear the chiming of a church clock from a long way away. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.

  ‘Midnight!’ breathed Lou.

  They walked to the edge of the dark wood together. Then they stopped.

  How different the moonlight made everything look! They seemed to be standing on the edge of a deep forest, pierced by shadowy glades, instead of the straggling copse they knew. Even Dinah, who usually took any excuse to go plunging into the thickets after rabbits, seemed to hesitate. Then she sniffed, the hair on the back of her neck rose up, and she