five children and it-第28部分

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

could　be　expected　to　go　without　any　previous　practice　…　they　rushed

through　the　gate　and　struck　four　warlike　attitudes　in　face　of　the

line　of　Red　Indians。　　These　were　all　about　the　same　height；　and

that　height　was　Cyril's。



'I　hope　to　goodness　they　can　talk　English；'　said　Cyril　through　his

attitude。



Anthea　knew　they　could；　though　she　never　knew　how　she　came　to　know

it。　　She　had　a　white　towel　tied　to　a　walking…stick。　　This　was　a

flag　of　truce；　and　she　waved　it；　in　the　hope　that　the　Indians　would

know　what　it　was。　　Apparently　they　did　…　for　one　who　was　browner

than　the　others　stepped　forward。



'Ye　seek　a　pow…wow？'　he　said　in　excellent　English。　　'I　am　Golden

Eagle；　of　the　mighty　tribe　of　Rock…dwellers。'

'And　I；'　said　Anthea；　with　a　sudden　inspiration；　'am　the　Black

Panther　…　chief　of　the　…　the　…　the　…　Mazawattee　tribe。　　My　brothers

…　I　don't　mean　…　yes；　I　do　…　the　tribe　…　I　mean　the　Mazawattees　…

are　in　ambush　below　the　brow　of　yonder　hill。'



'And　what　mighty　warriors　be　these？'　asked　Golden　Eagle；　turning　to

the　others。



Cyril　said　he　was　the　great　chief　Squirrel；　of　the　Moning　Congo

tribe；　and；　seeing　that　Jane　was　sucking　her　thumb　and　could

evidently　think　of　no　name　for　herself；　he　added；　'This　great

warrior　is　Wild　Cat　…　Pussy　Ferox　we　call　it　in　this　land　…　leader

of　the　vast　Phiteezi　tribe。'



And　thou；　valorous　Redskin？'　Golden　Eagle　inquired　suddenly　of

Robert；　who；　taken　unawares；　could　only　reply　that　he　was　Bobs；

leader　of　the　Cape　Mounted　Police。



'And　now；'　said　Black　Panther；　'our　tribes；　if　we　just　whistle　them

up；　will　far　outnumber　your　puny　forces；　so　resistance　is　useless。　

Return；　therefore；　to　your　own　land；　O　brother；　and　smoke　pipes　of

peace　in　your　wampums　with　your　squaws　and　your　medicine…men；　and

dress　yourselves　in　the　gayest　wigwams；　and　eat　happily　of　the

juicy　fresh…caught　moccasins。'



'You've　got　it　all　wrong；'　murmured　Cyril　angrily。　　But　Golden

Eagle　only　looked　inquiringly　at　her。



'Thy　customs　are　other　than　ours；　O　Black　Panther；'　he　said。　

'Bring　up　thy　tribe；　that　we　may　hold　pow…wow　in　state　before　them；

as　becomes　great　chiefs。'



'We'll　bring　them　up　right　enough；'　said　Anthea；　'with　their　bows

and　arrows；　and　tomahawks；　and　scalping…knives；　and　everything　you

can　think　of；　if　you　don't　look　sharp　and　go。'



She　spoke　bravely　enough；　but　the　hearts　of　all　the　children　were

beating　furiously；　and　their　breath　came　in　shorter　and　shorter

gasps。　　For　the　little　real　Red　Indians　were　closing　up　round　them

…　coming　nearer　and　nearer　with　angry　murmurs　…　so　that　they　were

the　centre　of　a　crowd　of　dark；　cruel　faces。



'It's　no　go；'　whispered　Robert。　　'I　knew　it　wouldn't　be。　　We　must

make　a　bolt　for　the　Psammead。　　It　might　help　us。　　If　it　doesn't　…

well；　I　suppose　we　shall　come　alive　again　at　sunset。　　I　wonder　if

scalping　hurts　as　much　as　they　say。'



'I'll　wave　the　flag　again；'　said　Anthea。　　'If　they　stand　back；

we'll　run　for　it。'



She　waved　the　towel；　and　the　chief　commanded　his　followers　to　stand

back。　　Then；　charging　wildly　at　the　place　where　the　line　of　Indians

was　thinnest；　the　four　children　started　to　run。　　Their　first　rush

knocked　down　some　half…dozen　Indians；　over　whose　blanketed　bodies

the　children　leaped；　and　made　straight　for　the　sand…Pit。　　This　was

no　time　for　the　safe　easy　way　by　which　carts　go　down　…　right　over

the　edge　of　the　sand…pit　they　went；　among　the　yellow　and　pale

purple　flowers　and　dried　grasses；　past　the　little　sand…martins'

little　front　doors；　skipping；　clinging；　bounding；　stumbling；

sprawling；　and　finally　rolling。



Yellow　Eagle　and　his　followers　came　up　with　them　just　at　the　very

spot　where　they　had　seen　the　Psammead　that　morning。



Breathless　and　beaten；　the　wretched　children　now　awaited　their

fate。　　Sharp　knives　and　axes　gleamed　round　them；　but　worse　than

these　was　the　cruel　light　in　the　eyes　of　Golden　Eagle　and　his

followers。



'Ye　have　lied　to　us；　O　Black　Panther　of　the　Mazawattees　…　and　thou；

too；　Squirrel　of　the　Moning　Congos。　　These　also；　Pussy　Ferox　of　the

Phiteezi；　and　Bobs　of　the　Cape　Mounted　Police　…　these　also　have

lied　to　us；　if　not　with　their　tongue；　yet　by　their　silence。　　Ye

have　lied　under　the　cover　of　the　Truce…flag　of　the　Pale…face。　　Ye

have　no　followers。　　Your　tribes　are　far　away　…　following　the

hunting　trail。　　What　shall　be　their　doom？'　he　concluded；　turning

with　a　bitter　smile　to　the　other　Red　Indians。



'Build　we　the　fire！'　shouted　his　followers；　and　at　once　a　dozen

ready　volunteers　started　to　look　for　fuel。　　The　four　children；　each

held　between　two　strong　little　Indians；　cast　despairing　glances

round　them。　　Oh；　if　they　could　only　see　the　Psammead！



'Do　you　mean　to　scalp　us　first　and　then　roast　us？'　asked　Anthea

desperately。



'Of　course！'　　Redskin　opened　his　eyes　at　her。　　'It's　always　done。'



The　Indians　had　formed　a　ring　round　the　children；　and　now　sat　on

the　ground　gazing　at　their　captives。　　There　was　a　threatening

silence。



Then　slowly；　by　twos　and　threes；　the　Indians　who　had　gone　to　look

for　firewood　came　back；　and　they　came　back　empty…handed。　　They　had

not　been　able　to　find　a　single　stick　of　wood；　for　a　fire！　　No　one

ever　can；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　in　that　part　of　Kent。



The　children　drew　a　deep　breath　of　relief；　but　it　ended　in　a　moan

of　terror。　　For　bright　knives　were　being　brandished　all　about　them。　

Next　moment　each　child　was　seized　by　an　Indian；　each　closed　its

eyes　and　tried　not　to　scream。　　They　waited　for　the　sharp　agony　of

the　knife。　　It　did　not　come。　　Next　moment　they　were　released；　and

fell　in　a　trembling　heap。　　Their　heads　did　not　hurt　at　all。　　They

only　felt　strangely　cool！　　Wild　war…whoops　rang　in　their　ears。　

When　they　ventured　to　open　their　eyes　they　saw　four　of　their　foes

dancing　round　them　with　wild　leaps　and　screams；　and　each　of　the

four　brandished　in　his　hand　a　scalp　of　long　flowing　black　hair。　

They　put　their　hands　to　their　heads　…　their　own　scalps　were　safe！

The　poor　untutored　savages　had　indeed　scalped　the　children。　　But

they　had　only；　so　to　speak；　scalped　them　of　the　black　calico

ringlets！



The　children　fell　into　each　other's　arms；　sobbing　and　laughing。



'Their　scalps　are　ours；'　chanted　the　chief；　'ill…rooted　were　their

ill…fated　hairs！　　They　came　off　in　the　hands　of　the　victors　…

without　struggle；　without　resistance；　they　yielded　their　scalps　to

the　conquering　Rock…dwellers！　　Oh；　how　little　a　thing　is　a　scalp　so

lightly　won！'



'They'll　take　our　real　ones　in　a　minute；　you　see　if　they　don't；'

said　Robert；　trying　to　rub　some　of　the　red　ochre　off　his　face　and

hands　on　to　his　hair。



'Cheated　of　our　just　and　fiery　revenge　are　we；'　the　chant　went　on

…　'but　there　are　other　torments　than　the　scalping…knife　and　the

flames。　　Yet　is　the　slow　fire　the　correct　thing。　　O　strange

unnatural　country；　wherein　a　man　may　find　no　wood　to　burn　his

enemy！　…　Ah；　for　the　boundless　forests　of　my　native　land；　where　the

great　trees　for　thousands　of　miles　grow　but　to　furnish　firewood

wherewithal　to　burn　our　foes。　　Ah；　would　we　were　but　in　our　native

forest　once　more！'



Suddenly；　like　a　flash　of　lightning；　the　golden　gravel　shone　all

round　the　four　children　instead　of　the　dusky　figures。　　For　every

single　Indian　had　vanished　on　the　instant　at　their　leader's　word。　

The　Psammead　must　have　been　there　all　the　time。　　And　it　had　given

the　Indian　chief　his　wish。





Martha　brought　home　a　jug　with　a　pattern　of　storks　and　long　grasses

on　it。　　Also　she　brought　back　all　Anthea's　money。



'My　cousin；　she　give　me　the　jug　for　luck；　she　said　it　was　an　odd

one　what　the　basin　of　had　got　smashed。'



'Oh；　Martha；　you　arc　a　dear！'　sighed　Anthea；　throwing　her　arms

round　her。



'Yes；'　giggled　Martha；　'you'd　better　make　the　most　of　me　while

you've　got　me。　　I　shall　give　your　ma　notice　directly　minute　she

comes　back。'



'Oh；　Martha；　we　haven't　been　so　very　horrid　to　you；　have　we？'　asked

Anthea；　aghast。



'Oh；　it　ain't　that；　miss。'　　Martha　giggled　more　than　ever。　　'I'm

a…goin'　to　be　married。　　It's　Beale　the　gamekeeper。　　He's　been

a…proposin'　to　me　off　and　on　ever　since　you　come　home　from　the

clergyman's　where　you　got　locked　up　on　the　church…tower。　　And

to…day　I　said　the　word　an'　made　him　a　happy　man。'



Anthea　put　the　seven…and…fourpence　back　in　the　missionary…box；　and

pasted　paper　over　the　place　where　the　poker　had　broken　it。　　She　was

very　glad　to　be　able　to　do　this；　and　she　does　not　know　to　this　day

whether　breaking　open　a　missionary…box　is　or　is　not　a　hanging

matter。







CHAPTER　11

THE　LAST　WISH





Of　course　you；　who　see　above　that　this　is　the　eleventh　（and　last）

chapter；　know　very　well　that　the　day　of　which　this　chapter　tells

must　be　the　last　on　which　Cyril；　Anthea；　Robert；　and　Jane　will　have

a　chance　of　getting　anything　out　of　the　Psammead；　or　Sand…fairy。



But　the　children　themselves　did　not　know　this。　　They　were　full　of

rosy　visions；　and；　whereas　on　other　days　they　had　often　found　it

extremely　difficult　to　think　of　anything　really　nice　to　wish　for；

their　brains　were　now　full　of　the　most　beautiful　and　sensible

ideas。　　'This；'　as　Jane　remarked　afterwards；　'is　always　the　way。'　

Everyone　was　up　extra　early　that　morning；　and　these　plans　were

hopefully　discussed　in　the　garden　before　breakfast。　　The　old　idea

of　one　hundred　pounds　in　modern　florins　was　still　first　favourite；

but　there　were　others　that　ran　it　close　…　the　chief　of　these　being

the　'pony　each'　idea。　　This　had　a　great　advantage。　　You　could　wish

for　a　pony　each　during　the　morning；　ride　it　all　day；　have　it　vanish

at　sunset；　and　wish　it　back　again　next　day。　　Which　would　be　an

economy　of　litter　and　stabling。　　But　at　breakfast　two　things

happened。　　First；　there　was　a　letter　from　mother。　　Granny　was

better；　and　mother　and　father　hoped　to　be　home　that　very　afternoon。