The Adventurous Four af-1 Read online

  The Adventurous Four

  ( Adventurous Four - 1 )

  Enid Blyton

  When Tom, Jill and Mary go to stay at a little fishing village in Scotland, the local fisherman's lad, Andy, promises to take them out in his boat. But a storm takes them off course and they end up shipwrecked on a small group of islands! Worse, it seems the islands are being used as a secret submarine base by the enemy…

  The Adventurous Four

  Enid Blyton

  Adventurous Four

  #1

  Chapter 1

  The Beginning of the Adventures

  Three children ran down a rocky path to the seashore. Tom went first, a small, wiry boy of twelve, his red hair gleaming in the sun. He looked round at the two girls following, and his green eyes twinkled.

  "Want any help, you two?"

  Mary and Jill laughed in scorn.

  "Don't be so silly, Tom," said Mary. "We're as good as you any day when we're running over the rocks."

  The girls were twins, and very like each other, with their heads of thick golden hair, tied in plaits, and their deep blue eyes. They often laughed at their brother Tom, and said he should have been called Carrots or Ginger or Marmalade, because of his red hair.

  They were all on holiday, staying in a little fishing-village on the north-east coast of Scotland. Their father was in the Air Force, and their mother was with them, knitting hard all day long in the garden of the little white house where they were staying.

  The three of them had run wild, and were all burnt as brown as monkeys. Usually they wore nothing but bathing costumes and rubber shoes, and spent as much of their time in the sea as out of it.

  At first their mother had been afraid of the big waves that crashed on the shore, for she had thought the three children would surely be thrown on to the sand and hurt, if they tried to bathe in such a rough sea. But they had soon learnt to swim right through the heart of the big breaking waves, and reach the calmer water beyond the shore.

  They had one great friend—Andy, the fisher-boy. He was a big, strong lad of fourteen, who had just left school and was helping his father with his fishing. Andy was dark-haired and blue-eyed, and was burnt dark brown by the sun. He knew everything about the sea, boats, and fishing. He could mimic any sea-bird, and could call the wild gulls to him by crying to them.

  "Andy's marvellous," said Mary and Jill, a dozen times a day—and Tom agreed. Each day the children went to talk to their friend, and to watch him bring in the catch of fish, clean it, and pack it to be sent away.

  Andy was tall and brown. He was dressed in old blue trousers, and a dark-blue jersey. He liked the three children very much, and often took them out in his little boat. He had taught them all to swim like fishes, to row strongly, and to climb the rocky cliff like cats. It would really have turned their mother's hair quite white if she had seen the things that the three children sometimes tried to do!

  Andy sat on the side of his little boat and grinned at the three children running down the rocky path. His white teeth gleamed in his brown face, and his eyes shone as blue as the sea. He was mending a net.

  "Let me help you, Andy," said Mary, and she took up the torn net. Her fingers were nimble and she worked with Andy whilst the others lay on their backs on the hot sand.

  "Andy, did you ask your father what we wanted you to do?" said Tom.

  "Aye, I did," said Andy. "He says, yes—if I work hard all the week."

  "Andy! How lovely!" said Jill in excitement. "I never thought he'd let you!"

  "Do you mean to say your father will really lend you his sailing-ship to take us for a trip to Little Island?" asked Mary, hardly believing her ears. "I never thought he'd say yes."

  "I was rather surprised, too," said Andy. "But he knows I can handle the boat just as well as he can. We'll take plenty of food with us, and we'll sail out to Little Island on Friday. We can spend two days and a night there, my father says—and I'll show you where some queer birds nest—and the cove with yellow stones—and the cliff where about a million birds sit and call."

  "Oh, won't it be gorgeous!" said Tom, sitting up and hugging his knees. "All by ourselves. No grown-ups. A little island, far away over there to the east—and no one on it but ourselves! Too good to be true."

  In great excitement the children made their plans. "Let's take plenty of food," said Tom, who was always hungry. "I don't know why, but when I'm out on the sea I feel I could eat all the time."

  "So do I," said Mary. "It's awful. I've never felt so hungry in my life as I have since we came here."

  "Well, we'll get heaps of food," said Tom. "And I'll bring my field-glasses, so that we can see the birds well."

  "And you'll bring warm clothes and rugs with you," said Andy.

  "Oh, Andy! We shan't need those, surely!" said Jill. "This September is just about the hottest I've ever known."

  "It will break soon," said Andy. "And if it happens to turn cold whilst we're in the boat, you'll not like it."

  "All right," said Tom. "We'll bring anything, so long as we can go. I say—what about the gramophone? Music sounds lovely on the water."

  Andy was fond of music, so he nodded. The boat was quite a big one, and even had a little cabin to sit in, with a tiny table and stool, a bench and bunk. Nobody could stand in it, but that didn't matter. The three children had often crowded into it together, whilst Andy sailed the ship around the bay.

  They had always longed to visit the island that Andy had told them about—an island of birds, a queer rocky place with a strange cove where most of the stones were yellow. But it was so far from the Coast that it had not been possible to visit it in a day.

  And now they had permission to go off in the sailing-boat belonging to Andy's father, and spend the night on the island! It would be the greatest adventure of their lives.

  On Thursday, the three children tired themselves out taking food, rugs, and other things down to the boat. Andy stared in astonishment at the amount of food.

  "Are you wanting to feed an army?" he asked. "Six tins of soup—six tins of fruit—tins of tongue—chocolate—Nestle's milk—biscuits—cocoa—sugar—and whatever's this?"

  "Oh—that's tinned sausages," said Tom, going rather red. "Old Mrs. MacPherson at the village shop said they were awfully good—so I brought some. Think of cooking sausages in a tin on the Little Island, Andy."

  "Tom's mad on sausages," said Jill. "He'd like them for breakfast, dinner, and tea. Look—will these rugs be enough, Andy?"

  "Yes," said Andy, looking at the odd collection of old rugs that Jill had managed to get together. "Now mind you all wear warm clothes, too—skirts and jerseys, you girls—and shorts and jersey for you, Tom. You haven't got trousers, have you?"

  "No," said Tom sadly. "I don't suppose your father would lend me a pair, would he, Andy?"

  "He's only got the one pair, and his Sunday ones," said Andy. "And I've only got the ones I'm wearing. Now are you going to bring the gramophone? We can put it safely in the cabin, if you like."

  Tom went back to get it, and soon brought it down to the boat, with a packet of records. He also brought a tin of toffee and a camera.

  "I'd like to take some pictures of the birds," he said. "We've got a bird-club at our school, and I guess I could take back some photographs that would beat everyone else's. Golly I Aren't we going to have a fine time!"

  "What time do we start, Andy?" asked Jill, looking with pride at the sturdy little fishing-boat that was going to take them on their adventure. Its brown sail was now furled—but to-morrow it would fly in the breeze, and drive the boat over the blue-green sea for miles.

  "Be down here at half-past six," said Andy. "I reckon we'll be at the island by about three
in the afternoon then."

  The three children could hardly sleep that night. Mary and Jill kept calling out to Tom, and at last their mother came up to them, very angry.

  "Now, if I hear one more, shout, I shall forbid you to go to-morrow," she said. "You will have to be up at six o'clock—and it's nearly half-past ten now. Go to sleep."

  The children were so afraid that their mother really would forbid them to go that they said not a word more. They turned on their sides and fell asleep.

  At six o'clock all three — were dressing hurriedly. It was a magnificent day. The eastern sky was glowing red at dawn, and was now pink and gold. The sun was already warm on their faces as they looked out of the little cottage window.

  Their mother was awake. The children kissed her good-bye and ran down the rocky path to the beach. Andy was already there—but to the children's surprise he looked rather grave.

  "I'm thinking we shouldn't go," he said, as soon as he saw the children.

  "Andy! Whatever do you mean?" they cried.

  "Maybe you didn't see the sky this morning?" said Andy. "It was as red as the geranium in our window. It was a right queer sky—and I'm thinking a storm will blow up to-day or to-morrow."

  "Oh, don't be such a spoil-sport, Andy," said Tom. climbing into the boat. "What does a storm matter? We'll be on the island before it comes—and if one comes to-morrow we can wait another day on the island. We've plenty of food."

  "If my father hadn't gone out in my uncle's ship to fish, I think he'd be stopping us from going," said Andy doubtfully, "But maybe the storm will blow off to the east. Get in, then. I'm glad to see you've got your jerseys on. If the wind blows up, we'll be cold tonight."

  "I've got my bathing-suit on underneath," said Jill. "So have the others. Come on, Andy—push off. I'm simply longing to go!"

  Andy pushed off. The boat grated over the stones, and then rode into the waves. Andy jumped in lightly. He and Tom took the oars. They did not mean to put up the sail till they came out of the bay into the full sea.

  It was a marvellous morning. The sea was full of sparkles and twinkles—it was blue and purple at a distance, clear green by the boat. Mary let her hand drag in the cool water. She was very happy. Jill was happy too. She lay on her back in the boat, looking up at the cornflower-blue sky, feeling the boat bobbing up and down on the waves.

  Tom was happy too. He loved to pull at the oars. He enjoyed thinking of his breakfast, and planned what he would have.

  Only Andy was not happy. He felt in his bones that he should not have taken the children out that morning, He felt sure this was not going to be the wonderful day they had planned. He wished his father had been there to advise him and he anxiously watched the sky for clouds But there was not one to be seen.

  "Now we're really off on our adventure," said Jill. "Really off!"

  But she didn't know what an extraordinary adventure it was going to be!

  Chapter 2

  Lost in the Storm

  As soon as the boat was clear of the bay Andy put up the sail. It was a pretty brown one, like the sails of all the other fishing-boats of the village. It billowed out in the breeze, and the boat sped along. The boys shipped the oars.

  "I'll steer," said Tom, and he took the tiller. The sail flapped, and spray flew up from under the bows of the boat. It was lovely.

  "We go north-east," said Andy. "Can you steer by the sun, Tom?"

  "Of course," said Tom, who had learnt to tell ti?e time almost to the half-hour by looking to see exactly where the sun was. "I'm going right, aren't I, Andy? And I make it about half-past seven by the sun."

  "It's twenty-past seven," said Jill, looking at her watch. She whispered something to Mary, who giggled.

  "What are you giggling at?" asked Tom.

  "Tell you in a minute," said Jill. The boat flew on over the green water, and the spray whipped off the sea, and fell cool and silvery on the children.

  "Golly!" said Tom, in half a minute. "I am hungry. What time are we going to have breakfast?"

  The twins burst into squeals of laughter. "That's what we whispered about just now!" said Jill. "I said to Mary "I guess the next thing Tom says will be that he's hungry and what about breakfast." And sure enough you did."

  Tom laughed. "Well, I guess you feel the same," he said. "Go on down into the little cabin and see what you can get for our breakfast. Andy and I are busy."

  The girls went into the tiny cabin, which was crammed full of then- food and other belongings. "What shall we have for breakfast?" said Jill. "What about pine-apple chunks—and these hard-boiled eggs Mrs. Andrews did for us yesterday evening—and some Nestle's milk—and chocolate?"

  It was a most peculiar breakfast, but the four children thought it was lovely. They had three loaves of bread with them, and some butter, and they dabbed the butter on to chunks of bread, took the eggs in then-hand and bit first at the egg and then at the bread. Jill put a paper of salt down on the deck for them to dip the eggs into.

  "Fathead!" said Tom, as the wind promptly blew away paper, salt, and all. "As if the sea isn't salt enough already without adding more salt to it! Is there any more?"

  There was some in a tin, and as this didn't blow away the children had plenty. There was fresh water in a barrel, and every orie dipped in a cup and had a drink.

  "That was a fine breakfast," said Tom. "I could do with it all over again."

  "I'm going to take off my jersey and skirt," said Jill. Tin simply cooking!"

  "So am I," said Mary. The boys felt hot too, for the sun was now pouring down fiercely. Tom took off his jersey, but Andy didn't remove his. He always kept this on, whatever the weather was.

  "This is simply gorgeous," said Jill, lying on a rug on the deck, feeling the spray splash on her hot face and arms every now and again. "How I do love to feel the boat bobbing up and down, up and down all the time! Can I have a turn at the tiller soon, Tom?"

  "Everybody can," said Tom. "It's a grand feeling to Sit here and guide the flying boat. How the wind is getting up! The sail is billowing out like the wings of a bird."

  The sailing-boat simply flew over the water. "We shall be at Little Island before three o'clock if we go on like this," said Andy.

  "I'm so hot in the sun," said Jill. She was sheltered where she lay, and felt hardly any wind. "I wish I could be dragged behind the boat on a rope, in the cool water."

  The morning slid on. The sun rose higher and higher and at noon it was so hot that every one put on sun-hats. The wind was still strong and whipped the tops from the waves as the boat flew along.

  "It's past noon," said Tom. "What about.»

  "A spot of lunch!" chanted every one, knowing exactly what Tom was going to say.

  "I'm more thirsty than hungry," said Jill. "What are you looking worried about, Andy?"

  "Queer colour the sky is getting over yonder," said Andy, nodding his head to the west.

  They all looked. "It's sort of coppery," said Tom.

  "There's a storm blowing up," said Andy, sniffing the air like a dog. "I can smell it."

  Andy always said he could smell a storm, and he was always right. The children looked anxiously towards the west. "Shall we get to the island before it comes?" asked Jill. "A storm is all very well to read about in a book—but I don't really want to be in one out on the open sea."

  "We'll do our best," said Andy. "The little boat can't go faster than she's going now. As it is the sail is almost splitting with the wind!"

  The sea turned a strange colour, a kind of blue-brown. "It's caused by the reflection of that funny sky," said Jill, half nervous. "I say! It's queer being out here on the sea, miles away from land, with the sea and the sky doing odd things like this."

  Then an even stranger thing happened. The wind, which had been blowing very strongly indeed, dropped completely. One moment it was blowing the children's hair straight back, as they faced the west—the next there was not a breath of air. The sea fell calm and oily. The little fishing-boat st
opped running in front of the wind, and rode silently over the waves, as if she were at anchor.

  "I say! That's funny," said Tom. "Not a bit of breeze now! Andy, we'll never get to the island if we don't get some wind. Shall we row?"

  "No," said Andy, his face rather pale under its dark brown. "No, Tom. You'll get plenty of wind in a minute—more than we want. We must take in some of the sail. The ship will heel right over if we let her have all this sail when next the wind gets up. There's going to be a gale. I can hear it coming."

  There was a queer humming noise in the air that seemed to come from nowhere at all. Then an enormous purple cloud blew up from the west and completely covered the sun. The world went dark, and great spots of rain fell.

  "It's coming now," said Andy. "Help me with the sail, Tom. Take the tiller, Jill. Keep her heading the way we've been going. Pull, Tom, pull."

  They pulled at the big brown sail—but before they had done what they wanted to the storm broke. A great crash of thunder came from the black cloud, and a flash of lightning split the sky in half.

  And then the gale came. Tom and the girls had never, never imagined there could be such a wind. They could not hear themselves speak unless they shouted. Andy yelled to the girls:

  "Get down into the cabin, quick, and shut the door and stay there."

  "Oh, let's be here," cried Jill. But Andy looked so stern and commanding that they did not dare to disobey. They almost fell into the cabin and shut the door Outside the wind seemed to get a voice—a voice that howled and wailed and lashed the sea into enormous waves that sent the little boat half-over every time. Tins and everything else began to fall about. The girls picked them up and put them where they could not fall.

  There was a crash as the packet of records fell down. "Blow!" cried Jill. "They'll all be broken!"

  So they were—all but one. It was very sad The girls carefully put the one whole record into a safe place and wondered what the boys would say when they knew. But it couldn't be helped.