The Island of Adventure by Enid Blyton
So up he went. The children had gone, and Aunt Polly was washing up. She glanced sharply at Joe.
‘Where have you been all the morning?’ she asked. ‘I wanted you, and you were nowhere to be found.’
‘Looking for them children,’ said Joe. ‘It’s my belief they’ve gone into the caves down there, and got lost. I been calling and calling for them.’
‘Don’t be so silly, Joe,’ said Aunt Polly. ‘You’re just making the children an excuse for your laziness. You know quite well they are not in the caves.’
‘Miss Polly, I seed them go in, and I didn’t seed them come out,’ began Joe indignantly, ‘I was on the beach all the time, wasn’t I? Well, I tells you, Miss Polly, them children went into the caves, and they’re there still.’
‘No, they’re not,’ said Aunt Polly firmly. ‘They have just gone off for a picnic. They came in, had an early lunch and went out again. So don’t come to me any more with silly stories about them being lost in the caves.’
Joe’s mouth dropped open. He simply could not believe his ears. Hadn’t he been on the beach by the caves all the morning? He would have seen the children as soon as they came out.
‘Don’t pretend to be so surprised,’ said Aunt Polly sharply. ‘Just stir yourself and do a few jobs quickly. You will have to do this afternoon all the things you didn’t do this morning. I expect the children did go into the caves – but they must have slipped out when you were not looking. Don’t just stand there! Get on with some of your work.’
Joe shook himself, shut his mouth and went off silently to do some jobs in the house. He was full of amazement. He remembered how one night he had chased two boys into the caves, thinking they were Philip and Jack – and the tide had come up and imprisoned them in the caves – but they were not there the next morning.
And now the four children had done the same thing. Joe thought it was decidedly uncanny. He didn’t like it. Now those children had given him the slip again. Where had they gone? Well, it wasn’t much good trying to find out that afternoon – not with Miss Polly in such a bad temper anyway!
14
A glimpse of the Isle of Gloom
The children hurried over the cliffs to Bill Smugs and his boat. He was ready for them. He put their packet of sandwiches and cake, their thermos, and a packet of biscuits and chocolate of his own, into the boat. Then they all got in.
Bill had brought the boat to shore, instead of hiding it out by the rocks. He pushed off, wading in the water till the boat floated. Then in he jumped, and took the oars till they were away from the rocks.
‘Now then,’ he said, in a little while, when they were well beyond the rocks and out at sea. ‘Now then, boys, up with that sail and let’s see how you do it!’
The boys put up the sail easily. Then they took turns at the tiller, and Bill was pleased with them. ‘You are good pupils,’ he said approvingly. ‘I believe you could take this boat out alone now.’
‘Oh, Bill – would you let us?’ asked Jack eagerly. ‘You could trust us, really you could.’
‘I might, one day,’ said Bill. ‘You would have to promise not to sail out very far, that’s all.’
‘Oh yes, we’d promise anything,’ said the children earnestly. How thrilling it would be to set off in Bill’s boat all by themselves!
There was a good wind and the boat sped along smoothly, rocking a little every now and again as she came to a swell. The sea was really very calm.
‘It’s lovely,’ said Jack. ‘I do like the flapping noise the sail makes – and the sound of the water slapping against the boat, and the steady whistling of the wind . . .’
Dinah and Lucy-Ann let their hands trail in the cool, silky water. Kiki watched with interest from her perch on the big sail. She could hardly keep her balance there, and had to half-spread her wings to help her. She seemed to be enjoying the trip as much as the children.
‘Wipe your feet and shut the door,’ she said to Bill Smugs, catching his eye. ‘How many times have I . . .’
‘Shut up, Kiki!’ cried everyone at once. ‘Don’t be rude to Bill, or he’ll throw you overboard.’
Kiki cackled with laughter, rose into the air and joined a couple of startled sea-gulls, announcing to them that they had better use their handkerchiefs. Then she gave an ear-piercing shriek that made the gulls sheer off in alarm. Kiki returned to her perch, pleased with herself. She did enjoy creating a sensation, whether it was among human beings, birds or animals.
‘I still can’t see the Isle of Gloom,’ said Jack, who was keeping a sharp look-out for it. ‘Whereabouts is it, Bill? I seem to have lost my sense of direction now I’m right out at sea.’
‘Over there,’ said Bill pointing. The children followed his finger, but could see nothing. Still, it was exciting that the ‘bad island’, as Joe called it, was coming nearer and nearer.
The sailing boat sped on, and the wind freshened a little as they got further out. The girls’ hair streamed out behind them, or blew all over their faces, and Bill gave an exclamation of annoyance as the wind neatly whipped his cigarette from his fingers and swept it away.
‘Now, if Kiki was any use at all, she would fly after that and bring it back to me,’ said Bill, cocking an eye at the parrot.
‘Poor Kiki,’ said the parrot, sorrowfully shaking her head. ‘Poor old Kiki. What a pity, what a pity, what . . .’
Jack aimed an old shell at her and she stopped with a cackle of laughter. Bill tried to light another cigarette, which the wind made rather difficult.
After a while Jack gave a sudden cry. ‘Look! Land ho! Isn’t that the Isle of Gloom? It must be.’
They all looked hard. Looming up out of the heat haze was land, there was no doubt about it.
‘Yes – that’s the island all right,’ said Bill, with great interest. ‘It’s fairly big, too.’
The boat drew nearer. The island became clearer and the children could see how rocky and hilly it was. Round it was a continual turmoil of water. Surf and spray were flung high into the air, and here and there the children could see jagged rocks sticking up from the sea.
They went nearer in. The water was rough and choppy now, and Lucy-Ann began to look a little green. She was the only one who was not a first-rate sailor. But she bravely said nothing, and soon the seasick feeling began to pass off a little.
‘Now you can see the wide ring of rocks running round the island,’ said Bill Smugs. ‘My word, aren’t they wicked! I guess many a boat has been wrecked on them at some time or another. We’ll cruise round a bit, and see if we can spot any entry. But – we don’t go any nearer, so it’s no use begging me to.’
The Albatross was now in a very choppy sea indeed and poor Lucy-Ann went green again. ‘Have a dry biscuit, Lucy-Ann,’ said Bill Smugs, noticing her looks. ‘Nibble it. It may keep off that sick feeling.’
It did. Lucy-Ann nibbled the dry biscuit gratefully and was soon able to take an interest in the trip once more. The Isle of Gloom certainly lived up to its name. It was a most desolate place, as far as the children could see. It seemed to be made of jagged rocks that rose into high hills in the middle of the island. A few stunted trees grew here and there, and grass showed green in some places. The rocks were a curious red colour on the seaweed side of the island, but black everywhere else.
‘There are heaps and heaps of birds there, just as I thought,’ said Jack, looking through his field-glasses in excitement. ‘Golly – just look at them, Bill!’
But Bill would not leave the tiller. It was dangerous work cruising near to the ring of rocks in such a choppy sea. He nodded to Jack. ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ he said. ‘Tell me if you recognise any birds.’
Jack reeled off a list of names. ‘Bill, there are thousands and thousands of birds!’ he cried. ‘Oh, do, do let’s land on the island. Find a way through this ring of rocks somehow. Please, please do.’
‘No,’ said Bill firmly. ‘I said not. It would be a dangerous business to get to the island even if we
The sailing boat went on its way round the island, keeping well outside the wicked ring of rocks over which waves broke continually, sending spray high into the air. The children watched them, and noticed how they raced over the treacherous rocks, making a roaring noise that never stopped. It was somehow very thrilling, and the children felt exultant and wanted to shout.
Jack could see the island most clearly because of his field-glasses. He kept them glued to his eyes, looking at the hundreds of birds, both flying and sitting, that he could see. Philip tapped his arm.
‘Let someone else have a look too,’ he said. ‘Hand over the glasses.’
Jack didn’t want to, because he was afraid of missing seeing a Great Auk, but he did at last give them to Philip. Philip was not so interested in the birds – he swept the coast of the island with the glasses – and then gave an exclamation.
‘Hallo! There are still houses or something on the island. Surely people don’t live there now.’
‘Of course not,’ said Bill Smugs. ‘It’s been deserted for ages. I can’t imagine why anyone ever did live on it. They could not have farmed it or used it for fishing – it’s a desolate, impossible sort of place.’
‘I suppose what I can see are only ruins,’ said Philip. ‘They seem to be in the hills. I can’t make them out really.’
‘Anyone walking about – any of Joe’s “things”?’ asked Dinah, with a laugh.
‘No, nobody at all,’ said Philip. ‘Have a look through the glasses, Dinah – and then Lucy-Ann. I don’t wonder it’s called the Isle of Gloom. It certainly is a terribly gloomy-looking place – nothing alive on it except the sea-birds.’
The girls had a turn of looking through the glasses too. They didn’t like the look of the island at all. It was ugly and bare, and had an extraordinary air of forlornness about it.
The sailing boat went all round the island, keeping well outside the rocks that guarded it. The only place where there might conceivably be an entrance between the rocks was a spot to the west. Here the sea became less choppy, and although spray was flung up high, the children could see no rocks on the surface. The spray was flung by waves racing over rocks nearby.
‘I bet that’s the only entrance to the island,’ said Jack.
‘Well, we’re not going to try it,’ said Bill Smugs at once. ‘I’m going to leave the island now, and head for calmer water. Then we’ll take down the sail and have our tea, bobbing gently about instead of tossing and pitching like this. Poor Lucy-Ann keeps on turning green.’
Jack took a last look through his glasses – and gave such a shout that Dinah nearly over-balanced, and Kiki fell off her perch above.
‘Whatever is it?’ said Bill Smugs, startled.
A Great Auk!’ yelled Jack, the glasses glued to his eyes. ‘It is, it is – an enormous bird – with small wings close to its sides – and a big razor-like bill. It’s a Great Auk!’
Bill gave the tiller to Jack for a moment and took the glasses. But he could see no Great Auk, and he handed them back to the excited boy, whose green eyes were gleaming with joy.
‘I expect it’s one of the razorbills,’ he said. ‘The Great Auk is much like a big razorbill, you know – you’ve let your wish be father to the thought, old man. That wasn’t a Great Auk, I’ll be bound.’
But Jack was absolutely convinced that it was. He could not see it any longer, but, as they left the island behind, the boy sat looking longingly backwards at it. The Great Auk was there. He was sure it was. He was certain he had seen one. How could Bill suggest it was a razorbill?
‘Bill – Bill – do go back,’ begged Jack, hardly able to contain himself. ‘I know it was an auk – a Great Auk. I suddenly saw it. Imagine it! What will the world say if they know I’ve found a Great Auk, a bird that’s been extinct for years!’
‘The world wouldn’t care much,’ said Bill Smugs drily. ‘Only a few people keen on birds would be excited. Calm yourself a bit – I’m afraid it certainly wasn’t the bird you thought.’
Jack couldn’t calm himself. He sat looking terribly excited, his eyes glowing, his face red, his hair blown about in the wind. Kiki felt the excitement and came down to his shoulder, pecking at his ear to get his attention.
‘It was a Great Auk, it was, it was,’ said Jack, and Lucy-Ann slipped a hand in his arm and squeezed it. She too was sure it was a Great Auk – and anyway she wasn’t going to spoil her brother’s pleasure by saying that it wasn’t. Neither Philip nor Dinah believed that it was.
They had their tea on calmer water, with the sail down and the boat drifting where it pleased. Jack could eat nothing, though he drank his tea. Lucy-Ann, hungry now after her seasickness, ate Jack’s share of the tea, and enjoyed it. The others enjoyed themselves too. It had been an exciting afternoon.
‘Can we sail your boat by ourselves sometime, as you promised?’ asked Jack suddenly. Bill Smugs looked at him sharply.
‘Only if you promise not to go very far out,’ he said. ‘No rushing off to find the Great Auk on the Isle of Gloom, you know.’
As this was the idea at the back of Jack’s mind, the boy went red at once. ‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘I promise not to go to the Isle of Gloom in your boat, Bill. But may we really go out by ourselves other days?’
‘Yes, you may,’ said Bill. ‘I think you really know how to manage the boat all right – and you can’t come to much harm if you choose a calm day.’
Jack looked pleased. A dreamy expression came over his face. He knew what he meant to do. He would keep his word to Bill Smugs – he would not go to the Isle of Gloom in Bill’s boat – but he would go in someone else’s. He would practise sailing and rowing in Bill’s boat – and as soon as he was absolutely sure of handling it, he would borrow Joe’s boat, and go to the island in that.
This was a bold and daring plan – but Jack was so thrilled at the idea of finding a Great Auk, when everyone else thought it was extinct, that he was willing to run any risk to get to the island. He was sure he could find the entrance to the ring of rocks. He would furl the sail when he got near the rocks and do some rowing. Joe’s boat was big and heavy, but Jack thought he could manage it well enough.
He said nothing to the others whilst Bill was there. Bill mustn’t know. He was jolly and kind and a good friend – but he was a grown-up, and grown-ups always stopped children doing anything risky. So Jack sat in the rocking boat and thought out his daring plan, not hearing the others’ remarks or teasing.
‘He’s gone off to the island to see his Great Auk,’ said Dinah, with a laugh.
‘Poor old Jack – that bird has quite taken his appetite away,’ said Philip.
‘Wake up!’ said Bill, giving Jack a nudge. ‘Be a little sociable.’
After tea they decided to row back, taking it in turns. Bill thought it would be good for them to have some exercise, and the children enjoyed handling the oars. Jack rowed vigorously, thinking that it was good practice for the time when he would go to the island.
‘Well – here we are, safely back again,’ said Bill, as the boat came to shore. The boys jumped out and pulled it in. The girls got out, bringing the thermos flask with them. Bill pulled the boat up the shore.
‘Well, goodbye,’ he said. ‘We’ve had a fine time. Come along tomorrow, if you like, and I’ll let you have a shot at taking the boat out by yourselves.’
‘Oh, thanks!’ cried the children, and Kiki echoed the words too. ‘Oh, thanks!’ she said, ‘oh, thanks; oh, thanks; oh thanks!’
‘Be quiet,’ said Philip, with a laugh, but Kiki chanted the words all the way home. ‘Oh, thanks; oh, thanks; oh, thanks; oh, thanks!’
‘Did you have a nice afternoon?’ asked Aunt Polly, when they went into the house.
‘Lovely,’ said Dinah. ‘Is your headache better, Aunt Polly?’
‘Not much,’ said her
‘Yes, I will,’ said Dinah, not liking the task very much, for she was rather afraid of her learned and peculiar uncle.
Joe came in at that moment and stared at the four children. ‘Where you been?’ he asked roughly. And where did you go this morning, after you went into the caves?’
‘We came up to the house,’ said Philip, putting on a surprised expression that infuriated Joe. ‘Didn’t you see us? And we’ve just come back from a picnic, Joe. Why all this concern for our whereabouts? Did you want to come with us?’
Joe made an angry noise, at once copied by Kiki, who then cackled out her maddening laughter. Joe gave the parrot a look of hatred and stalked out.
‘Don’t tease him,’ said Aunt Polly wearily. ‘He’s really getting lazy. He never came near the house all the morning. Well – I’m going to bed.’
‘Jack, you help me with Uncle Jocelyn’s tray,’ said Dinah, when the supper was ready. ‘It’s heavy. Philip’s gone off somewhere as usual. He always disappears when there’s any job to be done.’
Jack took the heavy tray and followed Dinah as she led the way to her uncle’s study. She knocked on the door. A voice grunted, and Dinah imagined it said ‘Come in.’
They went in, Kiki on Jack’s shoulder as usual. ‘Your supper, Uncle,’ said Dinah. ‘Aunt Polly’s gone to bed. She’s tired.’
‘Poor Polly, poor dear Polly,’ said Kiki, in a pitying tone. Uncle Jocelyn looked up, startled. He saw the parrot and picked up a paperweight.
Kiki at once flew out of the door, and Uncle Jocelyn put the paperweight down again. ‘Keep that parrot out,’ he said grumpily. ‘Interfering bird. Put the tray down there. Who are you, young man?’
‘I’m Jack Trent,’ said Jack, surprised that anyone could be so forgetful. ‘You saw me and my sister Lucy-Ann the day we came here, sir. Don’t you remember?’
‘Too many children in this house,’ said Uncle Jocelyn, in a grumbling tone. ‘Can’t get any work done at all.’