We arent going to take him out, said Anthea; at least She stopped short, for though they werent going to take him out in the Kentish Town Road, they certainly intended to take him elsewhere. But not at all where cook meant when she said out. This confused the truthful Anthea.
Out! said the cook, that Ill take care you dont; and she snatched the Lamb from the lap of Jane, while Anthea and Robert caught her by the skirts and apron. Look here, said Cyril, in stern desperation, will you go away, and make your pudding in a pie-dish, or a flower-pot, or a hot-water can, or something?
Not me, said the cook, briefly; and leave this precious poppet for you to give his deathercold to.
I warn you, said Cyril, solemnly. Beware, ere yet it be too late.
Late yourself the little popsey-wopsey, said the cook, with angry tenderness. They shant take it out, no more they shant. AndWhere did you get that there yellow fowl? She pointed to the Phoenix.
Even Anthea saw that unless the cook lost her situation the loss would be theirs.
I wish, she said suddenly, we were on a sunny southern shore, where there cant be any whooping-cough.
She said it through the frightened howls of the Lamb, and the sturdy scoldings of the cook, and instantly the giddy-go-round-and-falling-lift feeling swept over the whole party, and the cook sat down flat on the carpet, holding the screaming Lamb tight to her stout print-covered self, and calling on St Bridget to help her. She was an Irishwoman.
The moment the tipsy-topsy-turvy feeling stopped, the cook opened her eyes, gave one sounding screech and shut them again, and Anthea took the opportunity to get the desperately howling Lamb into her own arms.
Its all right, she said; own Panthers got you. Look at the trees, and the sand, and the shells, and the great big tortoises. Oh DEAR, how hot it is!
It certainly was; for the trusty carpet had laid itself out on a southern shore that was sunny and no mistake, as Robert remarked. The greenest of green slopes led up to glorious groves where palm-trees and all the tropical flowers and fruits that you read of in Westward Ho! and Fair Play were growing in rich profusion. Between the green, green slope and the blue, blue sea lay a stretch of sand that looked like a carpet of jewelled cloth of gold, for it was not greyish as our northern sand is, but yellow and changingopal-coloured like sunshine and rainbows. And at the very moment when the wild, whirling, blinding, deafening, tumbling upside-downness of the carpet-moving stopped, the children had the happiness of seeing three large live turtles waddle down to the edge of the sea and disappear in the water. And it was hotter than you can possibly imagine, unless you think of ovens on a baking-day.
Every one without an instants hesitation tore off its London-in-November outdoor clothes, and Anthea took off the Lambs highwayman blue coat and his three-cornered hat, and then his jersey, and then the Lamb himself suddenly slipped out of his little blue tight breeches and stood up happy and hot in his little white shirt.
Im sure its much warmer than the seaside in the summer, said Anthea. Mother always lets us go barefoot then.
So the Lambs shoes and socks and gaiters came off, and he stood digging his happy naked pink toes into the golden smooth sand.
Im a little white duck-dickie, said hea little white duck-dickie what swims, and splashed quacking into a sandy pool.
Let him, said Anthea; it cant hurt him. Oh, how hot it is!
The cook suddenly opened her eyes and screamed, shut them, screamed again, opened her eyes once more and said
Why, drat my cats alive, whats all this? Its a dream, I expect.
Well, its the best I ever dreamed. Ill look it up in the dream-book to-morrow. Seaside and trees and a carpet to sit on. I never did!
Look here, said Cyril, it isnt a dream; its real.
Ho yes! said the cook; they always says that in dreams.
Its REAL, I tell you, Robert said, stamping his foot. Im not going to tell you how its done, because thats our secret. He winked heavily at each of the others in turn. But you wouldnt go away and make that pudding, so we HAD to bring you, and I hope you like it.
I do that, and no mistake, said the cook unexpectedly; and it being a dream it dont matter what I say; and I WILL say, if its my last word, that of all the aggravating little varmints Calm yourself, my good woman, said the Phoenix.
Good woman, indeed, said the cook; good woman yourself Then she saw who it was that had spoken. Well, if I ever, said she; this is something like a dream! Yellow fowls a-talking and all! Ive heard of such, but never did I think to see the day.
Well, then, said Cyril, impatiently, sit here and see the day now. Its a jolly fine day. Here, you othersa council! They walked along the shore till they were out of earshot of the cook, who still sat gazing about her with a happy, dreamy, vacant smile.
Look here, said Cyril, we must roll the carpet up and hide it, so that we can get at it at any moment. The Lamb can be getting rid of his whooping-cough all the morning, and we can look about; and if the savages on this island are cannibals, well hook it, and take her back. And if not, well LEAVE HER HERE.
Is that being kind to servants and animals, like the clergyman said? asked Jane.
Nor she isnt kind, retorted Cyril.
Wellanyway, said Anthea, the safest thing is to leave the carpet there with her sitting on it. Perhaps itll be a lesson to her, and anyway, if she thinks its a dream it wont matter what she says when she gets home.
So the extra coats and hats and mufflers were piled on the carpet. Cyril shouldered the well and happy Lamb, the Phoenix perched on Roberts wrist, and the party of explorers prepared to enter the interior.
The grassy slope was smooth, but under the trees there were tangled creepers with bright, strange-shaped flowers, and it was not easy to walk.
We ought to have an explorers axe, said Robert. I shall ask father to give me one for Christmas.
There were curtains of creepers with scented blossoms hanging from the trees, and brilliant birds darted about quite close to their faces.
Now, tell me honestly, said the Phoenix, are there any birds here handsomer than I am? Dont be afraid of hurting my feelingsIm a modest bird, I hope.
Not one of them, said Robert, with conviction, is a patch upon you!
I was never a vain bird, said the Phoenix, but I own that you confirm my own impression. I will take a flight. It circled in the air for a moment, and, returning to Roberts wrist, went on, There is a path to the left.
And there was. So now the children went on through the wood more quickly and comfortably, the girls picking flowers and the Lamb inviting the pretty dickies to observe that he himself was a little white real-water-wet duck!
And all this time he hadnt whooping-coughed once.
The path turned and twisted, and, always threading their way amid a tangle of flowers, the children suddenly passed a corner and found themselves in a forest clearing, where there were a lot of pointed hutsthe huts, as they knew at once, of SAVAGES.