The marvellous land of Snergs
used to do to Joe in the evenings at home. Joe never complained to the
other circus people because he believed that boys came into the world
for the purpose of being hammered by their parents; also he worked it
out that if he did complain his father would do him in as he had often
promised to do and, ridiculous as it may seem to us, Joe wanted to go
on living.
Matters came to a finish one evening when he had made a deplorable mess
of some gymnastics and his father was greatly annoyed with him, and, as
he said he would, “put it acrost him” properly. He was interrupted by
the sudden appearance of a grim elderly lady bigger than he was, whom
he had noticed several times lately in the one-and-threepence seats,
and who now burst open his private kitchen door in defiance of the law
and picked up the tongs, not by the handle but by the other end. Then
Father knew no more for hours.
And when he did know more it was very unsatisfactory. His skull seemed
loose like a jig-saw puzzle, and he was in a horrid mess. And Joe was
gone. There were no head-lines in the paper about this case because no
one cared anything about it--except Father--and by the time his skull
was fitted close together again by the great skill of surgeons (his
nose they could do nothing with) Joe was becoming justly celebrated
among the other children for his reckless way of riding bucking bears
bare-backed, and doing other things contrary to regulations.
VANDERDECKEN AND HIS MEN
As the strange adventures of Joe and Sylvia were primarily due to what
Joe did to Vanderdecken’s crew’s soup, it is advisable to give here a
short account of these interesting foreigners.
As I have said, Vanderdecken (vulgarly known as the Flying Dutchman)
had come in some time before and camped on the bank of a river north
of Watkyns Bay. They had had so much tossing about the seas since they
started out from Holland in the seventeenth century that it was quite
a nice change for them, and they were in no hurry to go away, even
though they were very anxious to see their wives and babies again. And
it was just as well that they were in no hurry to go, for their wives
and babies had all died hundreds of years ago and it would have been a
distressing shock to them if they had managed to reach home, this in
itself a doubtful matter.
Each man had his hut, made of stout reeds with a roof of palm branches.
They stood in a semicircle, with a double-sized one in the middle for
Vanderdecken, and there was a garden in front in which was planted some
sweet-peas and a few simple bulbs. There was also a large general hut
where they had their meals and sat about the table afterwards, smoking
their long pipes and talking about how they really must think of
getting busy with the old ship and cleaning her up for the voyage. She
was in a bad way, with the sails all patched and the carved dolphins
on her bows all worn smooth with the seas she had dived into for so
many weary years; but the most they ever did towards getting her ready
was to lighten her by taking the heavy things out and putting them on
shore--quaint old cannon and the two spare anchors, and bales of spices
and elephants’ tusks, and casks of salt beef all hard as horn from
age, and so forth. Each seaman took his chest and hammock ashore and
made his hut neat with a floor of little mashed-up shells, and perhaps
a shelf or two and a rack for pipes and pannikins and other small
matters. Vanderdecken’s parrot was still going strong, for the curse
had come on him too (not that that troubled him) and he sat on a perch
outside in the sun with a tin pot full of nuts beside him, swearing in
High Dutch.
It is to be regretted that their relations with the Society, though
friendly, were not at all enthusiastic. In the first place, they
were, like all Dutchmen, phlegmatic and not given to gush. In the
second place, England was at war with Holland when they started out
and they did not like the sight of the British flag flying over the
main building in Watkyns Bay. It was of course Miss Watkyns’ duty to
make the first call, so she went with six of the ladies and told them
that she had no objection to their staying there--which seemed rather
superfluous as they had already settled down very comfortably--and
that she hoped they would find the rest and change beneficial. No
refreshments were offered, for Vanderdecken had no tea but only
Schnapps, a heady liquor calculated to make an unaccustomed man
climb trees and therefore obviously unsuited to ladies. The call
was returned in due time by Vanderdecken and his mate and two washed
seamen; and from then on there were little formal calls at intervals,
but, as I say, no real cordiality; mostly talk about the weather.
But the Dutchmen get on famously with the Snergs, who visit them
frequently and invite them over to the town for week-ends, this giving
a nice excuse for a feast. Then they introduced them to a special
kind of mead made from wild bees’ honey, with a little distillation
of ginger added to give it a kick. This was glad news to the weary
mariners, for though they had started out with a good supply of
Schnapps they had of course not taken the curse into account and the
supply was getting alarmingly low, and there had been many wrinkled
brows over the matter. Hunting parties are organized very often; the
Dutchmen go with strangely carved muskets and the Snergs with bows and
arrows, and they come home with mixed bags. This, however, has caused
trouble with the Society, for Miss Watkyns said she could not allow
promiscuous slaying of animals in the forest land between the coast
and the Snerg country; that if they liked (she meant this ironically)
they could go to the country beyond the deep river, where rumour had
it there were fierce beasts worthy of their skill, and kill as many
as they liked. She gave a list of animals that were prohibited; among
these were cinnamon bears, young deer and various sorts of birds.
Vanderdecken objected strongly to this, and he came over to argue the
matter; but there was breeding in the man and he finally gave way. They
now hunt only large deer, hares, duck, and wobsers, a swift-running,
graminivorous animal something between a platypus and a pig, but with a
prehensile tail. Cooked with bay leaves they are delicious.
But though there was no great cordiality between the ladies of the
Society and the Dutchmen, there was no friction to speak of. Miss
Watkyns would often send over a few dozen eggs or a basket of plums
from the orchard and the like, and Vanderdecken sent one of his men to
plant tulips in the way they should be planted, the Dutch being very
skilful at this. When the ladies’ bathing kiosk blew over in a high
wind he and his men came and put it right side up by brute force, and
last Christmas he sent two sacks of little carved windmills for the
children. On the whole relations could be called satisfactory.
HOW THE ADVENTURE STARTED
Having given a short general statement of conditions, it is now time
to recount what happened to Sylvia and Joe owing to her impulsiveness
and his disobedience and cheek, and I say again (for it is a point that
will bear repetition) that I hope the tale will not be without due
effect on my young readers.
I have already said that Joe caused the Society anxiety and
exasperation. This was chiefly owing to his insatiable curiosity to
know what would be the effect of certain acts, particularly those that
were forbidden, and though the lady who was responsible for his arrival
(Miss Gribblestone) had lectured him and read him moral tales, such as
the one about the boy who was devoured by curiosity and finished by
getting devoured by a serpent, and though Miss Watkyns had told him
that at his rate of going severe punishment was only a matter of time,
all this had little or no effect. And the really serious part was that
he and Sylvia were firm chums and she, being impulsive, would aid and
abet him in his enterprises.
They could not live apart, these two. They shared everything they had,
including secrets, and any little extra snacks that came into their
possession. They even shared a puppy (whom they named Tiger owing to
his ferocity with slippers and other small matters, and who was pure
white all over except on one ear and the left side of the head where
he looked as if he had been well rubbed in a tin of blacking) and this
is the only known case of dual ownership since Miss Watkyns made that
excellent rule of one child, one animal.
Many were the remedies proposed for their improvement, but the
difficulty was that the Misses Scadging and Gribblestone could not
agree to any particular method. Miss Scadging was the one who had
taken Sylvia away from her mother, and she said that Joe had an evil
influence on the little girl and that he alone should be punished.
Miss Gribblestone on the other hand was of opinion that if it were not
for Sylvia’s encouragement Joe would be a pattern boy like that Edgar
of the story-book who went out before breakfast and gathered fresh
groundsel for his aunt’s canary. And so the matter stood, for Miss
Watkyns made it a rule never to interfere except in very urgent cases.
That Sylvia encouraged the boy there was no doubt. She had blue eyes
and a quantity of fluffy gold curls, and consequently, when she giggled
and told him he would never dare to do what he said would be a choice
thing to do, he usually went at once and did it, whatever it happened
to be. And when the deed was done and some of the ladies went forth to
pick up the bits or to do whatever else needed doing and to bring in
Joe and Sylvia for immediate explanation, they would find them at the
time harmless and lovable, perhaps sitting on the shore with their arms
round each other’s necks as good as gold, or else engaged in some deed
of kindness, such as swimming out to the Penguins’ Rock with a little
string bag full of snails.
HOW IT REALLY BEGAN
To come to how it really began, one bright morning the two went
over to Vanderdecken’s camp without leave, and there Joe was wicked
enough and foolish enough to heave half a brick into the cauldron of
soup preparing for the mariners. It was a wicked thing to do because
they had never harmed him, and a foolish thing because detection was
certain. But he had bragged that he would do it, and Sylvia had giggled
in the usual way and said she didn’t believe him, so he hunted up the
half-brick and off they went.
Speaking of the act entirely apart from its moral aspect I may say that
it was a good shot. Six mariners were standing about the cauldron,
sniffing the fragrant steam and speaking in praise of the cook, when
the missile arrived from a high neighbouring rock, and its impact
caused the hot, glutinous liquid to bespatter their faces and clothing.
On the next instant Joe, Sylvia and Tiger started home at a brisk run.
Arriving breathless they proceeded at once, and in sight of some of
the ladies, to be kind to animals. They gathered handfuls of grass and
offered them to some overfed sheep, and their expression while doing
so was something like that on the faces of angels in the pictures of
Murillo, that great painter.
In due time the six mariners and the cook arrived to make their
complaint. Their annoyance was so great that, though fluent, they were
unintelligible; I am inclined to think that at first they could only
articulate expletives in use among Dutch seamen of the seventeenth
century. But at length they were calmed sufficiently to enable them to
state their case and to demand that Joe, whom they had recognized, be
delivered over to them for the punishment of keel-hauling, a term which
was not understood by any of the ladies.
Miss Watkyns was sympathetic, but she could not, of course, allow