five children and it-第27部分

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This　was　so　true　that　Anthea　longed　to　deny　it　at　once　…　Martha　had

no　business　to　know　so　much。　　But　she　held　her　tongue。



Martha　set　down　the　bread　with　a　bang　that　made　it　jump　off　its

trencher。



'I　DO　want　the　jug　got；'　said　Anthea　softly。　　'You　WILL　go；　won't

you？'



'Well；　just　for　this　once；　I　don't　mind；　but　mind　you　don't　get

into　none　of　your　outrageous　mischief　while　I'm　gone　…　that's　all！'



'He's　going　earlier　than　he　thought；'　said　Anthea　eagerly。　　'You'd

better　hurry　and　get　dressed。　　Do　put　on　that　lovely　purple　frock；

Martha；　and　the　hat　with　the　pink　cornflowers；　and　the　yellow…lace

collar。　　Jane'll　finish　laying　the　cloth；　and　I'll　wash　the　Lamb

and　get　him　ready。'



As　she　washed　the　unwilling　Lamb；　and　hurried　him　into　his　best

clothes；　Anthea　peeped　out　of　the　window　from　time　to　time；　so　far

all　was　well　…　she　could　see　no　Red　Indians。　　When　with　a　rush　and

a　scurry　and　some　deepening　of　the　damask　of　Martha's　complexion

she　and　the　Lamb　had　been　got　off；　Anthea　drew　a　deep　breath。



'HE'S　safe！'　she　said；　and；　to　jane's　horror；　flung　herself　down　on

the　floor　and　burst　into　floods　of　tears。　　Jane　did　not　understand

at　all　how　a　person　could　be　so　brave　and　like　a　general；　and　then

suddenly　give　way　and　go　flat　like　an　air…balloon　when　you　prick

it。　　It　is　better　not　to　go　flat；　of　course；　but　you　will　observe

that　Anthea　did　not　give　way　till　her　aim　was　accomplished。　　She

had　got　the　dear　Lamb　out　of　danger　…　she　felt　certain　the　Red

Indians　would　be　round　the　White　House　or　nowhere　…　the　farmer's

cart　would　not　come　back　till　after　sunset；　so　she　could　afford　to

cry　a　little。　　It　was　partly　with　joy　that　she　cried；　because　she

had　done　what　she　meant　to　do。　　She　cried　for　about　three　minutes；

while　Jane　hugged　her　miserably　and　said　at　five…second　intervals；

'Don't　cry；　Panther　dear！'



Then　she　jumped　up；　rubbed　her　eyes　hard　with　the　corner　of　her

pinafore；　so　that　they　kept　red　for　the　rest　of　the　day；　and

started　to　tell　the　boys。　　But　just　at　that　moment　cook　rang　the

dinner…bell；　and　nothing　could　be　said　till　they　had　all　been

helped　to　minced　beef。　　Then　cook　left　the　room；　and　Anthea　told

her　tale。　　But　it　is　a　mistake　to　tell　a　thrilling　tale　when　people

are　eating　minced　beef　and　boiled　potatoes。　　There　seemed　somehow

to　be　something　about　the　food　that　made　the　idea　of　Red　Indians

seem　flat　and　unbelievable。　　The　boys　actually　laughed；　and　called

Anthea　a　little　silly。



'Why；'　said　Cyril；　'I'm　almost　sure　it　was　before　I　said　that；　that

Jane　said　she　wished　it　would　be　a　fine　day。'



'It　wasn't；'　said　Jane　briefly。



'Why；　if　it　was　Indians；'　Cyril　went　on　…　'salt；　please；　and

mustard　…　I　must　have　something　to　make　this　mush　go　down　…　if　it

was　Indians；　they'd　have　been　infesting　the　place　long　before　this

…　you　know　they　would。　　I　believe　it's　the　fine　day。'



'Then　why　did　the　Sammyadd　say　we'd　let　ourselves　in　for　a　nice

thing？'　asked　Anthea。　　She　was　feeling　very　cross。　　She　knew　she

had　acted　with　nobility　and　discretion；　and　after　that　it　was　very

hard　to　be　called　a　little　silly；　especially　when　she　had　the

weight　of　a　burglared　missionary…box　and　about　seven…and…fourpence；

mostly　in　coppers；　lying　like　lead　upon　her　conscience。



There　was　a　silence；　during　which　cook　took　away　the　mincy　plates

and　brought　in　the　treacle…pudding。　　As　soon　as　she　had　retired；

Cyril　began　again。



'Of　course　I　don't　mean　to　say；'　he　admitted；　'that　it　wasn't　a

good　thing　to　get　Martha　and　the　Lamb　out　of　the　light　for　the

afternoon；　but　as　for　Red　Indians　…　why；　you　know　jolly　well　the

wishes　always　come　that　very　minute。　　If　there　was　going　to　be　Red

Indians；　they'd　be　here　now。'



'I　expect　they　are；'　said　Anthea；　'they're　lurking　amid　the

undergrowth；　for　anything　you　know。　　I　do　think　you're　most　beastly

unkind。'



'Indians　almost　always　DO　lurk；　really；　though；　don't　they？'　put　in

Jane；　anxious　for　peace。



No；　they　don't；'　said　Cyril　tartly。　　'And　I'm　not　unkind；　I'm　only

truthful。　　And　I　say　it　was　utter　rot　breaking　the　water…jug；　and

as　for　the　missionary…box；　I　believe　it's　a　treason…crime；　and　I

shouldn't　wonder　if　you　could　be　hanged　for　it；　if　any　of　us　was　to

split　…'



'Shut　up；　can't　you？'　said　Robert；　but　Cyril　couldn't。　　You　see；　he

felt　in　his　heart　that　if　there　SHOULD　be　Indians　they　would　be

entirely　his　own　fault；　so　he　did　not　wish　to　believe　in　them。　　And

trying　not　to　believe　things　when　in　your　heart　you　are　almost　sure

they　are　true；　is　as　bad　for　the　temper　as　anything　I　know。



'It's　simply　idiotic；'　he　said；　'talking　about　Indians；　when　you

can　see　for　yourselves　that　it's　Jane　who's　got　her　wish。　　Look

what　a　fine　day　it　is　…　OH　…　'



He　had　turned　towards　the　window　to　point　out　the　fineness　of　the

day　…　the　others　turned　too　…　and　a　frozen　silence　caught　at　Cyril；

and　none　of　the　others　felt　at　all　like　breaking　it。　　For　there；

peering　round　the　corner　of　the　window；　among　the　red　leaves　of　the

Virginia　creeper；　was　a　face　…　a　brown　face；　with　a　long　nose　and

a　tight　mouth　and　very　bright　eyes。　　And　the　face　was　painted　in

coloured　patches。　　It　had　long　black　hair；　and　in　the　hair　were

feathers！



Every　child's　mouth　in　the　room　opened；　and　stayed　open。　　The

treacle…pudding　was　growing　white　and　cold　on　their　plates。　　No　one

could　move。



Suddenly　the　feathered　head　was　cautiously　withdrawn；　and　the　spell

was　broken。　　I　am　sorry　to　say　that　Anthea's　first　words　were　very

like　a　girl。



'There；　now！'　she　said。　　'I　told　you　so！'



Treacle…pudding　had　now　definitely　ceased　to　charm。　　Hastily

wrapping　their　portions　in　a　Spectator　of　the　week　before　the　week

before　last；　they　hid　them　behind　the　crinkled…paper

stove…ornament；　and　fled　upstairs　to　reconnoitre　and　to　hold　a

hurried　council。



'Pax；'　said　Cyril　handsomely　when　they　reached　their　mother's

bedroom。　　'Panther；　I'm　sorry　if　I　was　a　brute。'



'All　right；'　said　Anthea；　'but　you　see　now！'



No　further　trace　of　Indians；　however；　could　be　discerned　from　the

windows。



'Well；'　said　Robert；　'what　are　we　to　do？'



'The　only　thing　I　can　think　of；'　said　Anthea；　who　was　now　generally

admitted　to　be　the　heroine　of　the　day；　'is　…　if　we　dressed　up　as

like　Indians　as　we　can；　and　looked　out　of　the　windows；　or　even　went

out。　　They　might　think　we　were　the　powerful　leaders　of　a　large

neighbouring　tribe；　and　…　and　not　do　anything　to　us；　you　know；　for

fear　of　awful　vengeance。'



'But　Eliza；　and　the　cook？'　said　Jane。



'You　forget　…　they　can't　notice　anything；'　said　Robert。　　'They

wouldn't　notice　anything　out　of　the　way；　even　if　they　were　scalped

or　roasted　at　a　slow　fire。'



'But　would　they　come　right　at　sunset？'



'Of　course。　　You　can't　be　really　scalped　or　burned　to　death　without

noticing　it；　and　you'd　be　sure　to　notice　it　next　day；　even　if　it

escaped　your　attention　at　the　time；'　said　Cyril。　　'I　think　Anthea's

right；　but　we　shall　want　a　most　awful　lot　of　feathers。'



'I'll　go　down　to　the　hen…house；'　said　Robert。　　'There's　one　of　the

turkeys　in　there　…　it's　not　very　well。　　I　could　cut　its　feathers

without　it　minding　much。　　It's　very　bad　…　doesn't　seem　to　care　what

happens　to　it。　　Get　me　the　cutting…out　scissors。'



Earnest　reconnoitring　convinced　them　all　that　no　Indians　were　in

the　poultry…yard。　　Robert　went。　　In　five　minutes　he　came　back　…

pale；　but　with　many　feathers。



'Look　here；'　he　said；　'this　is　jolly　serious。　　I　cut　off　the

feathers；　and　when　I　turned　to　come　out　there　was　an　Indian

squinting　at　me　from　under　the　old　hen…coop。　　I　just　brandished　the

feathers　and　yelled；　and　got　away　before　he　could　get　the　coop　off

the　top　of　himself。　　Panther；　get　the　coloured　blankets　off　our

beds；　and　look　slippy；　can't　you？'



It　is　wonderful　how　like　an　Indian　you　can　make　yourselves　with

blankets　and　feathers　and　coloured　scarves。　　Of　course　none　of　the

children　happened　to　have　long　black　hair；　but　there　was　a　lot　of

black　calico　that　had　been　got　to　cover　school…books　with。　　They

cut　strips　of　this　into　a　sort　of　fine　fringe；　and　fastened　it

round　their　heads　with　the　amber…coloured　ribbons　off　the　girls'

Sunday　dresses。　　Then　they　stuck　turkeys'　feathers　in　the　ribbons。　

The　calico　looked　very　like　long　black　hair；　especially　when　the

strips　began　to　curl　up　a　bit。



'But　our　faces；'　said　Anthea；　'they're　not　at　all　the　right　colour。　

We're　all　rather　pale；　and　I'm　sure　I　don't　know　why；　but　Cyril　is

the　colour　of　putty。'



'I'm　not；'　said　Cyril。



'The　real　Indians　outside　seem　to　be　brownish；'　said　Robert

hastily。　　'I　think　we　ought　to　be　really　RED　…　it's　sort　of

superior　to　have　a　red　skin；　if　you　are　one。'



The　red　ochre　cook　used　for　the　kitchen　bricks　seemed　to　be　about

the　reddest　thing　in　the　house。　　The　children　mixed　some　in　a

saucer　with　milk；　as　they　had　seen　cook　do　for　the　kitchen　floor。　

Then　they　carefully　painted　each　other's　faces　and　hands　with　it；

till　they　were　quite　as　red　as　any　Red　Indian　need　be　…　if　not

redder。



They　knew　at　once　that　they　must　look　very　terrible　when　they　met

Eliza　in　the　passage；　and　she　screamed　aloud。　　This　unsolicited

testimonial　pleased　them　very　much。　　Hastily　telling　her　not　to　be

a　goose；　and　that　it　was　only　a　game；　the　four　blanketed；

feathered；　really　and　truly　Redskins　went　boldly　out　to　meet　the

foe。　　I　say　boldly。　　That　is　because　I　wish　to　be　polite。　　At　any

rate；　they　went。



Along　the　hedge　dividing　the　wilderness　from　the　garden　was　a　row

of　dark　heads；　all　highly　feathered。



'It's　our　only　chance；'　whispered　Anthea。　　'Much　better　than　to

wait　for　their　blood…freezing　attack。　　We　must　pretend　like　mad。　

Like　that　game　of　cards　where　you　pretend　you've　got　aces　when　you

haven't。　　Fluffing　they　call　it；　I　think。　　Now　then。　　Whoop！'



With　four　wild　war…whoops　…　or　as　near　them　as　English　c