near," he said. "The cliffs are almost sheer here."
They were. When the children lay down on their tummies and looked cautiously over, it gave them a queer feeling to see the sea so very very far below, moving slowly in and out, with only a far-off rumble to mark the breaking of the waves. Lucy-Ann found herself clutching the cushions of sea-pink beside her.
"I somehow feel I'm not safe on the ground," she said with a laugh. "I feel as if I've got to hold on. I feel sort of — well, sort of upside-down!"
Bill held on to her tightly after that speech. He knew that she felt giddy, and he wasn't going to risk anything with little Lucy-Ann! He liked all the children very much, but Lucy-Ann was his favourite.
The children watched the birds going and coming endlessly to and from the narrow cliff ledges. It was a marvellous sight. Jack looked through his glasses and chuckled at the squabbling and pushing that was going on, on some of the narrower shelves.
"Just like naughty children," he said. "Telling each other to move up and make room, or I'll push you off — and off somebody goes, sure enough. But it doesn't matter, because out go their wings and they have a lovely glide through the air. My word, I wouldn't mind being a sea-bird — able to stride along on the sea-shore, or bob on the sea, or dive for fish, or glide for miles on the strong breeze. I shouldn't mind be — "
"What's that?" said Philip suddenly, hearing a noise that wasn't made by sea-birds. "Listen! An aeroplane, surely!"
They all listened, straining their eyes through the sun-washed air. And, far away, they saw a speck, steadily moving through the sky, and heard the r-r-r-r of an engine.
"A plane! Right off all the routes!" said Bill. "Well — that's the last thing I expected to see here!"
Chapter 9
HURRAH FOR PUFFIN ISLAND
BILL seemed so astonished that the children stared at him. Surely it wasn't so surprising to see an aeroplane, even near these desolate bird-islands?
Bill took Jack's glasses and looked through them, but it was too late to make out anything.
"I wonder if it was a seaplane or an ordinary plane," he said, half to himself. "Queer."
"Why is it queer?" asked Dinah. "Aeroplanes go everywhere now."
Bill said no more. He handed back the glasses to Jack. "I think we'd better have a meal, and then put up our tents," he said. "What about putting them by that little stream we saw on our way here? About a quarter of a mile from the shore. It wouldn't be too far to carry everything if we all give a hand."
The tents were set up. The ground-sheets were put down and the rugs tumbled over them. Then, sitting on a slight slope, looking out to the blue sea, the five of them had a glorious meal. "I always think," began Lucy-Ann, munching a couple of biscuits with butter and cream cheese between them, "I always think . . ."
"You needn't go on," said Jack. "We know what you're going to say and we quite agree with you."
"You don't know what I'm going to say," said Lucy-Ann indignantly.
"We do," said Philip. "You say it every holidays when we have a meal out of doors."
"You're going to say, 'I always think food tastes much nicer when it's eaten out of doors,' " said Dinah. "Aren't you?"
"Well, I was," said Lucy-Ann. "Do I really always say it? Anyway, it's quite true. I do think . . ."
"Yes, we know," said Jack. "You're an awful repeater, Lucy-Ann. You tell us the same things over and over again. Never mind. We think the same, even if we don't keep on saying it. Kiki, take your fat beak out of the cream cheese!"
"Kiki's awful," said Dinah. "She really is. She's pinched three biscuits already. I don't think you give her enough sunflower seeds, Jack."
"Golly, I like that!" said Jack. "She won't even look at sunflower seeds when there's a spread like this. Anyway, Philip, your rats can always eat them. I found Squeaker in my
They were. When the children lay down on their tummies and looked cautiously over, it gave them a queer feeling to see the sea so very very far below, moving slowly in and out, with only a far-off rumble to mark the breaking of the waves. Lucy-Ann found herself clutching the cushions of sea-pink beside her.
"I somehow feel I'm not safe on the ground," she said with a laugh. "I feel as if I've got to hold on. I feel sort of — well, sort of upside-down!"
Bill held on to her tightly after that speech. He knew that she felt giddy, and he wasn't going to risk anything with little Lucy-Ann! He liked all the children very much, but Lucy-Ann was his favourite.
The children watched the birds going and coming endlessly to and from the narrow cliff ledges. It was a marvellous sight. Jack looked through his glasses and chuckled at the squabbling and pushing that was going on, on some of the narrower shelves.
"Just like naughty children," he said. "Telling each other to move up and make room, or I'll push you off — and off somebody goes, sure enough. But it doesn't matter, because out go their wings and they have a lovely glide through the air. My word, I wouldn't mind being a sea-bird — able to stride along on the sea-shore, or bob on the sea, or dive for fish, or glide for miles on the strong breeze. I shouldn't mind be — "
"What's that?" said Philip suddenly, hearing a noise that wasn't made by sea-birds. "Listen! An aeroplane, surely!"
They all listened, straining their eyes through the sun-washed air. And, far away, they saw a speck, steadily moving through the sky, and heard the r-r-r-r of an engine.
"A plane! Right off all the routes!" said Bill. "Well — that's the last thing I expected to see here!"
Chapter 9
HURRAH FOR PUFFIN ISLAND
BILL seemed so astonished that the children stared at him. Surely it wasn't so surprising to see an aeroplane, even near these desolate bird-islands?
Bill took Jack's glasses and looked through them, but it was too late to make out anything.
"I wonder if it was a seaplane or an ordinary plane," he said, half to himself. "Queer."
"Why is it queer?" asked Dinah. "Aeroplanes go everywhere now."
Bill said no more. He handed back the glasses to Jack. "I think we'd better have a meal, and then put up our tents," he said. "What about putting them by that little stream we saw on our way here? About a quarter of a mile from the shore. It wouldn't be too far to carry everything if we all give a hand."
The tents were set up. The ground-sheets were put down and the rugs tumbled over them. Then, sitting on a slight slope, looking out to the blue sea, the five of them had a glorious meal. "I always think," began Lucy-Ann, munching a couple of biscuits with butter and cream cheese between them, "I always think . . ."
"You needn't go on," said Jack. "We know what you're going to say and we quite agree with you."
"You don't know what I'm going to say," said Lucy-Ann indignantly.
"We do," said Philip. "You say it every holidays when we have a meal out of doors."
"You're going to say, 'I always think food tastes much nicer when it's eaten out of doors,' " said Dinah. "Aren't you?"
"Well, I was," said Lucy-Ann. "Do I really always say it? Anyway, it's quite true. I do think . . ."
"Yes, we know," said Jack. "You're an awful repeater, Lucy-Ann. You tell us the same things over and over again. Never mind. We think the same, even if we don't keep on saying it. Kiki, take your fat beak out of the cream cheese!"
"Kiki's awful," said Dinah. "She really is. She's pinched three biscuits already. I don't think you give her enough sunflower seeds, Jack."
"Golly, I like that!" said Jack. "She won't even look at sunflower seeds when there's a spread like this. Anyway, Philip, your rats can always eat them. I found Squeaker in my
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