“She said ‘Good-bye’ this morning,” said Captain Flint.
“But we didn’t,” said Titty.
“We can’t be sure it’s coming off now,” said Captain Flint. “She said we were free before, you know, and we found sentinels all over the place.”
“I’ll just see if I can find her,” said Titty.
“No harm in that,” said Captain Flint, “but don’t go anywhere near her if she’s with the counsellor or Chang or that walnut-headed little bo’sun.”
Titty ran through the doorway to Miss Lee’s house. She was stopped in the doorway by the amah.
“But I want to see Miss Lee,” said Titty.
“Missee Lee tired,” said the amah. “Missee Lee see no one. … What for you make Missee Lee cly?”
She went back to the others, and found Roger holding Gibber by his lead while with the other hand he dangled the round lantern, lit, at the one end of its rope. John and Nancy were holding up the dragon’s head while Captain Flint was wedging the parrot’s cage inside it.
“Did you see her?” said Susan.
“No,” said Titty, “and the amah said she’s been crying.”
“All very well,” said Captain Flint. “We can’t help that. She’s a good girl, though a rum one, but I don’t see the good of our getting our heads cut off, and, if anything goes wrong, Chang or the bo’sun’ll have them off in two ticks.”
“And anyhow we’ve got to get home,” said Susan.
Two minutes later they were ready, and Susan was looking round to see if they had left anything behind. She found Roger’s white hat with the bullet-hole through it on his bed where he had flung it when he put on his pointed scarlet one.
“I’m not going to leave that,” said Roger, taking it and stuffing it into the front of his shirt.
The little dragon was on its feet again. They were off along the garden walk and into the courtyard, now a blaze of lanterns. Captain Flint had Gibber by his lead. Roger, swinging his lantern, danced ahead, out of the gateway into the town.
“Don’t overdo it, Roger,” called Captain Flint. “We’ve got to keep it up now to the end. And swing that lantern steady or you’ll have it out.”
“All right,” said Roger, dancing backwards. “I mean, Aye-aye, Dragon.”
Lanterns were hanging from the roof corners of every house, from bamboos stuck out of the windows, from the trees. The noise was like the noise of a battle with the sharp bangs of the firecrackers which boys and men alike were letting off in all directions. They soon found the other dragons. All three were dancing and snaking through the streets in and out among the houses, with people running beside them with firecrackers, long strings of them wound round bamboos, banging, banging all the time. The little dragon did the same, with Roger prancing and swinging before it and Gibber, bothered by the firecrackers, hopping and running beside it. They were in the main street when Gibber, tired of trotting on his own feet, leapt at the dragon’s fiery mane, grabbed it and swung himself up, while the people laughed and cheered.
“Where’s that monkey?” shouted Captain Flint.
“Sitting on your neck,” shouted Roger: “I mean, the dragon’s.”
“Good,” said Captain Flint.
On and on they snaked their dragon through the streets, round this house, down that lane, round again between two houses, back through the main street, into the courtyard where the Taicoons and captains sat laughing on the verandah of the council room, back again into the streets, now chasing one of the big dragons, now running away from it, now meeting it when both dragons nodded their huge heads and there were shouts of delighted laughter.
“Gosh!” panted Titty. “Tell him not to go so fast.”
The word was passed along from tail to head and they took a short rest in a side street. After all the other dragons were doing the same from time to time.
“How much longer?” asked Roger after another rest much later.
“We’ll pick our moment,” said Captain Flint. “But we’ve got to keep going.”
“Bother that feast,” said Roger, and then “I can manage another go now.”
With wearying feet, the little dragon danced on and on.
CHAPTER XXV
LITTLE DRAGON ALONE
IT was long after midnight. Here and there the lanterns hung from the houses were guttering out. The legs of the little dragon felt as if they were made of lead.
“Keep it up,” said Captain Flint, as the little dragon, wearily snaking this way and that, passed down a street where one of the longest of the dragons had come to a standstill while its legs were being given drinks by its admirers.
“Keep it up. Go it, Roger. Throw in a high kick or two if you can manage it. Let them see our dragon’s still full of beans. We’ve got to slip off soon before the others go back to the yamen for a last blow out.”
“Bang! … Bang! … Bang! …” A Chinese boy with a long string of firecrackers wound round a bamboo pole was dancing along beside them.
“All right,” said Captain Flint. “We must go on till he drops out. His firecrackers won’t last for ever. Sidestreets now, Roger. Work round to the back of the yamen.”
“Bang! … Bang! … Bang! …” The Chinese boy danced along, sometimes at the head of the dragon, as if to encourage Roger, sometimes dropping back to urge on the dragon’s swinging tail and succeeding, because Titty, following as well as she could the feet of Peggy, next ahead of her, could not help giving an extra jerk when the crackers were banging just behind her.
They sputtered to an end.
“He’s gone,” said Roger.
“Our time’s coming,” said Captain Flint. “Pass the word along. We’ll have a shot now.”
Nancy, under the dragon’s shoulders, passed the message to John. … John, swaying this way and that as he kept his eyes on Nancy’s feet, passed it to Susan. … Susan to Peggy. … Peggy to Titty.
“Aye-aye, sir,” panted Titty and wondered how much longer she could keep going.
But just then there was a burst of fireworks near at hand, and one of the larger dragons and a crowd with it came round a corner close behind them.
“Better twirl round and go and meet them,” Captain Flint called to Roger. “Make it look as if we didn’t want to be done out of any of the fun. Now then, Roger. … Give them a star performance. Hold tight, Gibber!”
Roger, leaping, throwing out first one leg and then the other, whirling the lighted lantern round his head, danced back towards the dragon’s tail. Captain Flint, Nancy, John, Susan, Peggy, Titty, danced after him and there was the little dragon turned and snaking back again. The parrot screamed inside the dragon’s head. Gibber chattered, seated on its neck, and there were more shouts of laughter as people saw that Roger, leaping in front, was doing his best to copy every antic of the leaping man who led the hundred-footed dragon.
They met and passed it. The crowd went on with the larger dragon. At a word from Captain Flint, Roger turned again down a side street. It was suddenly much darker. There were fewer lanterns here. It was quiet. The hundred-footed dragons were keeping near the middle of the town. The little dragon, with its twelve tired feet, was twisting away between empty houses, from which everybody had gone to see the fun.
STARTLING THE DRAGON’S TAIL
“Bang!”
The tail of the little dragon swung sideways as Titty shied.
“It’s that same boy again.” said Roger. “Someone’s given him another lot of crackers.”
“Tell Titty to fetch him one with the tail if she can,” said Captain Flint, and the order was passed along the dragon, and Titty did her best, but only pleased the boy who dodged the tail and danced along beside her while his crackers went off almost in her ears.
There was nothing for it but to turn again, and the little dragon turned and snaked wearily along this way and that until the boy, after using his last cracker, ran off towards the noise of other fireworks.
“Now,” said Captain Flint. “W
e’ll have another shot at it. Keep it up. … Just in case there’s someone watching us. … Bear to the right, Roger, and right again. That’s the yamen wall.”
The little dragon, still earnestly twisting as it went, was working once more towards the outskirts of the town, beyond Miss Lee’s garden. The noise of the festival was fading behind it. … There were hardly any lanterns. … There were none. … It was dark, except for the starry sky which the legs of the dragon could not see.
“Done it,” said Captain Flint. “Now Roger. … Blow out that lantern. … Straight ahead. … Follow the path to the creek. … As fast as you can go.”
“What about chucking the dragon?” said Nancy.
“Not yet. She said there’d be no sentinel at the creek, but we don’t know for certain.”
“What if there is?”
“We’ll have to do a bit of a dragon dance and go back.”
So the little dragon, no longer corkscrewing but straight as a rope, hurried on all its twelve feet away from the houses along the trodden earthen path through the bamboos.
“Easy!” Captain Flint spoke quietly as they came out of the trees. The word was passed back. “That’s that. Put the beast down.”
The legs of the dragon, very hot and tired, came out from under it, and the body of the dragon lay crumpled and lifeless on the ground.
“It’s all right,” said Nancy, slipping forward. “No sentinel. What shall we do with the dragon?”
Captain Flint had taken the parrot’s cage out of the head, and had given it to Titty. He was ripping the sextant out of the dragon’s neck. Roger was telling Gibber what a good monkey he had been.
“Better take it with us,” said Captain Flint.
John’s voice came, low, out of the darkness.
“I can only find Swallow,” he said. “Amazon’s gone … and the creek’s bank is high. The river’s risen a most awful lot.”
“More current to take us out,” said Captain Flint. “There isn’t much wind.”
“We can’t leave Amazon behind,” said Nancy.
“Can’t be helped,” said Captain Flint. “We’ll have to cram into Swallow.”
“Dragon and all?” asked Roger.
“We’ll shove the dragon into the wood,” said Captain Flint.
With Peggy, Susan and Titty to help him, Captain Flint rolled up the dragon and pushed it in among the bamboos. Nancy was hunting along the bank for Amazon.
“She’s gone,” she said. “And the sampans too. And the landing-stage is under water.”
“We’ve got to get afloat,” said Captain Flint. “Any minute some meddlesome fellow may spot we’re not on view.”
Firecrackers were still going off in the middle of the town and there was a cheerful glow of light above the trees.
“But look here,” said Nancy. “We can’t …”
“If we get out of this, I’ll get you another Amazon. We’re lucky to have Swallow. With a flood like this she might easily have gone with the rest. I thought this morning the river looked pretty high.”
“I’ve got the oars out,” whispered John.
“Pieces of eight!”
“Keep that parrot quiet. Cover him up with something.”
“Gibber’s aboard,” said Roger, “and so am I.”
“I’ll take the oars,” said Captain Flint. “No. … You stick to them, John. Paddle as quietly as you can. Can you see the junk?”
“I know just where she is.”
There was no room to spare. John was on the rowing thwart in the middle. Titty and the parrot-cage were in the bottom of the boat behind him. Roger, protesting that he was not allowed in the bows, had taken Gibber to join Nancy, Susan and Peggy in the stern.
“Ready?”
Captain Flint shoved quietly off and came aboard over the bows. John turned her round and began rowing out into the creek.
“Can’t see her yet,” said Captain Flint in a low voice. “Pull right. … Pull right. …”
“I can see something,” said Roger. “Over there. … We’re passing her.”
“Good man. … Pull left. … Pull left. … Easy. …”
The dark wall of the junk’s side loomed up close ahead.
“Look out for your port oar.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
There was a slight jerk as Captain Flint reached out, felt along the side of the junk and held on.
“Get your oars in. … Ease her along. We’re too far forward. … Less freeboard amidships. … Hullo. … They’ve left a ladder over. …”
“Oh, good,” breathed Titty.
“Up you go, John. Here’s the painter. … Who’s next? … Quiet, for your very life. …”
One after another they climbed up in the darkness and down over the rail into the waist of the little junk. Gibber followed Roger aboard and, freed at last from his lead, went off exploring his new ship. The parrot’s cage was passed up, and the parrot, as if he knew the danger, said never a word.
“Let her go astern now, John. We’ll never get her aboard in the dark without making a noise.”
John went aft with Swallow’s painter, climbed to the poop and made the painter fast to a cleat at the stern rail.
Nancy tiptoed back from the bows. “One anchor down,” she whispered, “and a rope to the shore.”
“Wonder if there’s enough current to swing her.”
“There was quite a lot the other day,” said Roger.
“Don’t want to tow if we can help it. More noise. But we’ll want the mainsail. … Precious little wind, anyway. … Can you find the main halyard in the dark?”
“I’ve got it,” said John, after a fumbling search, “and the tack-rope’s by my other hand.”
“Those bamboo battens’ll sing a song as they go up,” said Captain Flint. … “But once we’re off. … Ought to have got away before. Those dragons’ll be going back to the yamen before we’re out. Now look here. I’m going to cut the shore rope and take the anchor rope to the stern. Then, as soon as she’s heading down the creek, I’ll cast loose. … Can’t help losing the anchor. … She’s got another. … And you’ll get the mainsail up or some of it just as quick as you can.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
“Who steers?” said Roger.
“I’ll be handy to the tiller when I cast loose the anchor rope. But look here, one of you must cut it at the windlass as soon as she begins to swing. We don’t want to find ourselves anchored by the bows again and as we were before.”
“I can do that,” said Peggy.
“You’ve got the sharpest knife,” said Nancy. “I sharpened it.”
“Susan tallies on with John and Nancy at the main halyard,” said Captain Flint. … “My word, lucky the stars show the water up a bit. Now then. …”
Slowly, fumblingly in the dark, each went to his job.
Away in the town, beyond the bamboo wood, there were still bangs from fireworks, but not so often. The stock was running out and the dragon festival was coming to an end.
Aboard the Shining Moon there was dead silence. Suddenly there was the faint noise of a knife cutting rope somewhere in the bows. Captain Flint, with all his weight on the anchor rope was working slowly aft. Again there was the noise of cutting, Peggy at her work.
“She’s turning,” whispered Titty, watching the dim path of starlit water that led to the main river.
“Hullo!” said Captain Flint. “What’s this? Someone’s left a boat amidships on this side. …”
“Sampan?” whispered Nancy eagerly.
“Can’t see. … No. … I believe it’s old Amazon.”
“Oh good,” cried Nancy, darting from her place at the foot of the mainmast.
“You go back to your post,” whispered Captain Flint. “Right-o, Roger, I felt the painter somewhere here. Swallow’s made fast on the port quarter. Make Amazon fast to starboard as soon as the anchor rope’s gone.”
“Gosh! Gosh! Gosh!” whispered Nancy. “And I thought we’d lost her for ever.
Good for Miss Lee. I bet she thought we wouldn’t want to have to use two boats in the dark.”
“She’s swinging fast now,” whispered Titty.
High up on the poop, Captain Flint spoke … two words only. … “Hoist away!”
John, Susan and Nancy hung their weights on the halyard. With a dreadful creaking, the sail began to lift. They stopped, because of that noise and heard the faint splash of a rope in the water. The Shining Moon was adrift.
“Hoist away,” said Captain Flint out of the darkness astern. “Can’t help that noise now. … Come up here, somebody. … Oh, Roger, you’ll do. There’s no pull on the tiller. Can you see the mouth of the creek? Keep her so, straight for the middle. …”
He leapt from the poop, gripped the halyard higher than the others could reach and had the sail going up, hand over hand, every batten creaking in protest.
“There you are. … Make it fast now. … She’s sailing. Gosh! I ought to have eased that main sheet.”
“Help,” cried Roger, “it’s pulling like anything now.”
John scrambled up on the poop and forced the tiller over. The Shining Moon was gathering way and slipped down the creek.
“We’ll want that foresail,” said Captain Flint. “Where’s Nancy?”
“Ready to hoist.” Nancy’s voice came from the high foredeck.
“Let her have it.” And with more creaking, though not so loud, the little foresail climbed its mast.
The Shining Moon, moving faster and faster, ghosted out of the creek into the river.
“We’ve done them,” said Captain Flint, who, after dealing with the network of sheets and hoisting the little lugsail on the mizen, had joined John and Roger at the tiller. “We’ve done them. …”
And at that moment a bell that they had never heard before sounded, loud and jangling, from the middle of the town.
CHAPTER XXVI
ONLY ONE WAY OUT
A SHIVER ran through the little group clustered in the dark on the high poop of the junk.