Finn Family Moomintroll by Tove Jansson

Wasn't that where the lightning had struck? A terrible crag, bigger than ten Moominhouses, had been split like an apple by the lightning, and the two halves had fallen apart leaving a deep cleft between them. The Snork climbed trembling into the crack and looked up at the dark cliff walls which the lightning had split open. The stone was as black as ebony, but through it ran a bright and shining streak. It was gold - it must be gold!
    The Snork poked about with his penknife. A little grain of gold came loose and fell into his paw. He picked out one piece after another, getting hot with excitement and digging out bigger and bigger pieces. After a time he had forgotten everything but the brilliant vein of gold which the lightning had brought to light. He wasn't a beachcomber any longer - he was a gold-digger!
    Meanwhile Sniff had made a very simple find, but he was just as happy over it. He had found a lifebelt. It was slightly rotted by sea water, but it fitted him perfectly. 'Now I can go into the deep water,' he thought, 'and I'm sure I shall soon be able to swim as well as the others. Won't Moomintroll be surprised!' A little farther away, amongst the birch-bark, floats and seaweed, he discovered a raffia mat, a broken dipper and an old boot without a heel. Wonderful treasures when you steal them from the sea! Then in the distance he caught sight of Moomintroll who was standing out in the water struggling with something. Something big! 'What a pity that I didn't see it first!' thought Sniff. 'What in the world can it be?'
    Now Moomintroll had got his find out of the water and was rolling it in front of him up the beach. Sniff craned his neck - and then he saw what it was. A buoy! A big and gorgeous buoy!
    'Pee-hoo!' shouted Moomintroll. 'What do you think of this?'
    'It's quite nice,' said Sniff, critically, with his head on one side. 'But what do you think of this?' And he displayed his find on the sand.
    'The lifebelt is lovely,' replied Moomintroll. 'But what's the use of half a dipper?'
    'It will probably do if you bail quickly,' said Sniff. 'Listen! What do you say to a swop? The raffia mat, the dipper and the boot for that old buoy?'
    'Never in your life!' said Moomintroll. 'But perhaps the lifebelt for this rarey object that must have drifted here from a distant land.' And he held up a glass ball and shook it. Then up whirled a mass of snowflakes inside settling gradually to rest on a little house with windows of silver paper.
    'Oh!' said Sniff. And a great struggle was going on inside him because he couldn't bear to part with anything, even in exchange.
    'Look!' said Moomintroll and shook the snow up again.
    'I don't know,' said Sniff, doubtfully. 'I don't really know which I like best, the lifebelt or your snow storm.'
    'I'm pretty sure it's the only one in the world at the moment,' said Moomintroll.
    'But I can't give up the lifebelt!' wailed Sniff. 'Dear Moomintroll, couldn't we share the little snow storm?'
    'Hm,' said Moomintroll.
    'Couldn't I just hold it sometimes?' begged Sniff. 'On Sundays?'
    Moomintroll thought for a bit, and then he said: 'Well, all right! You can have it on Sundays and Wednesdays.'
    *
    Meanwhile Snufkin was wandering along with only the waves for company. He had a wonderful time jumping out of their way at the last minute, and laughing as they snapped in vain at his boots.
    Just beyond the point he met Moominpappa who was salvaging driftwood.
    'Fine, eh?' he puffed. We can build a landing-stage for The Adventure with this!'
    'Shall I help you to drag it up?' asked Snufkin.
    'No, no!' said Moominpappa, a little shocked. 'I can manage it alone. Can't you find something of your own to drag up?'
    There was a great deal to be salvaged, but nothing that Snufkin cared about. Small barrels, half a chair, a basket without a bottom, an ironing board; heavy troublesome things. Snufkin stuck his hands in his pockets and whistled. He preferred teasing the waves.
    But out on the point the Snork Maiden