Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
The Island of GoldA Sailor's YarnBy Gordon StablesIllustrations by Allan StewartPublished by Thomas Nelson and Sons, London, Edinburgh and New York.
The Island of Gold, by Gordon Stables.
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________THE ISLAND OF GOLD, BY GORDON STABLES.
Book 1--CHAPTER ONE.
TWO MITHERLESS BAIRNS.
Ransey Tansey was up much earlier than usual on this particular morning,because father was coming home, and there was a good deal to do.
As he crawled out of his bed--a kind of big box arrangement at thefarther end of the one-roomed cottage--he gave a glance towards thecorner where Babs slept in an elongated kind of basket, which bycourtesy might have been called a bassinette.
Yes, Babs was sound and fast, and that was something Ransey Tansey hadto be thankful for. He bent over her for a few seconds, listening as ifto make sure she was alive; for this wee three-year-old was usuallyawake long before this, her eyes as big as saucers, and carrying on ananimated conversation with herself in lieu of any other listener.
The boy gave a kind of satisfied sigh, and drew the coverlet over herbare arm. Then he proceeded to dress; while Bob, a beautiful, taillessEnglish sheep-dog, lay near the low hearth watching his every movement,with his shaggy head cocked a trifle to one side, as if he had hisconsidering cap on.
In summer time--and it was early summer now--dressing did not takeRansey long.
When he opened the door at last to fetch some sticks to light the fire,and stood for a moment shading his brow with his hand against the redlight of the newly-risen sun, and gazing eastwards over a landscape offields and woods, he looked a strange little figure. Moreover, onecould understand now why he had taken such a short few minutes to dress.
The fact is, Ransey Tansey hadn't very much to wear just then. Barelyeight years of age was Tansey, though, as far as experience of the worldwent, he might have been called three times as old as that; for, alas,the world had not been over-gentle with the boy.
Ransey wore no cap, just a head of towy hair, which was thick enough,however, to protect him against summer's sun or winter's cold. Theupper part of his body was arrayed in a blue serge shirt, very much openat the neck; while below his waist, and extending to within nine inchesof his bare feet, where they ended in ragged capes and promontories likea map of Norway, he wore a pair of pants. It would have been difficult,indeed, to have guessed at the original colour of these pants, but theywere now a kind of tawny brindle, and that is the nearest I can get toit. They were suspended by one brace, a bright red one, so broad thatit must have belonged to his father. I think the boy was rather proudthan otherwise of this suspender, although it had a disagreeable trickof sliding down over his shoulder and causing some momentarydisarrangement of his attire. But Ransey just hooked it back into itsplace again with his thumb, and all was right, till the next time.
A rough little tyke you might have called Ransey Tansey, with hissun-burnt face, neck, and bosom. Yet there was something that wasrather pleasing than otherwise in his clear eyes and open countenance;and when his red and rather thin lips parted in a smile, which they veryoften did, he showed a set of teeth as clean and white as those of asix-months-old Saint Bernard puppy, and you cannot better that.
Had this little lad been a town boy, hands and face and feet would havebeen far from clean; but Ransey lived away down in the cool, greencountry, in a midland district of Merrie England, and being as often inthe water as a duck, he was just as clean as one.
Away went Ransey Tansey now, and opened a rough old door in a rock whichformed part of the hill by the side of which the humble cottage stood.The door opened into a kind of cave, which was a storehouse for allkinds of things.
He was soon back again, and in five minutes' time had lit the fire,swept the hearth as tidily as a girl could have done it, and hung thekettle on a hook and chain. By this time another member of this smallfamily came in, a very large and handsome tabby cat, with a white chestand vandyked face.
Murrams, as he was called, was holding his head very high indeed. Infact he had to, else the nice young leveret he carried would havetrailed on the ground. Bob jumped up to meet him, with joy in his browneyes.
Had Bob possessed a tail of any consequence, he would have wagged it.Bob's tail, however, was a mere stump, and it was quite buried in therough, shaggy coat that hung over his rump. But though honest Bob hadonly the fag-end of a tail, so to speak, he agitated this considerablywhen pleased.
He did so when he saw that leveret.
"Oh, you clever old Murrams!" Bob seemed to say. "What a nice drop ofsoup that'll make, and all the bones for me!"
Murrams walked gingerly past him, and throwing the leveret on thehearth, proceeded to wash his face and warm his nose at the blaze.
Ransey put away the young hare, patted pussy on his broad, sleekforehead, then took down a long tin can to go for the morning's milk.He left the door open, because he knew that if Babs should awake andscramble out of her cot, she would toddle right out to clutch at wildflowers, beetles, and other things, instead of going towards the fire.
Ransey Tansey happened to look round when he was about thirty yards fromthe cottage. Why, here was Bob coming softly up behind. Murramshimself couldn't have walked more silently.
His ears disappeared backwards when he was found out, and he looked veryguilty indeed.
Ransey Tansey shook his finger at him.
"Back ye goes--back ye goes to look after Babs."
Bob lay down to plead.
"It ain't no go, Bob, I tell ye," continued Ransey Tansey, still shakinghis finger. "Back to Babs, Bob--back to Babs. We can't both on usleave the house at the same time."
This latter argument was quite convincing, and back marched Bob, withdrooping head and with that fag-end of a tail of his drooping earthwardsalso.
There grew on the top of the bank a solitary brown-stemmed pine-tree.Very, very tall it was, with not a branch all the way up save a verystrong horizontal limb, which was used to hang people from in the happydays of old. The top of this tree was peculiar. It spread straight outon all sides, forming a kind of flat table of darkest green needledfoliage. Had you been sketching this tree, then, after doing the stem,you could easily have rubbed in the top of it by dipping your littlefinger in ink and smudging the paper crosswise.
When not far from this gibbet-tree, as it was generally called, Ranseylooked up and hailed,--
"Ship ahoy! Are ye on board, Admiral?"
And now a somewhat strange thing happened. No sooner had the boy hailedthan down from a mass of central foliage there suddenly hung what, atfirst sight, one might have taken for a snake.
It was really a bird's long neck.
"Craik--craik--crik--cr--cr--cray!"
"All right," cried Ransey, as if he understood every word. "Ye mebbedon't see nuthin' o' father, do ye?"
"Tok--tok--tok--cr--cray--ay!"
"Well, ye needn't flop down, Admiral. I'll come up myself."
No lamplighter ever ran quicker up a ladder than did Ransey Tansey swarmup that pine-tree. In little over two minutes he was right out on thegreen roof, and beside him one of the most graceful and beautiful cranesit is possible to imagine. The boy's father had bought the bird from asailor somewhere down the country; and, except on very stormy nights, itpreferred to roost in this tree. The neck was a greyish blue, as wasalso the back; the wings were dark, the legs jet black, the tail purple.Around the eyes was a broad patch of crimson; and the bill was as longas a penholder, mo
re or less slender, and slightly curved downwards atthe end. [A species of what is popularly known an the dancing crane.]
The Admiral did all he could to express the pleasure he felt at seeingthe boy, by a series of movements that I find it difficult to describe.The wings were half extended and quivering with delight, the neckforming a series of beautiful curves, the head at times high in air, andnext moment down under Ransey's chin. Then he twisted his neck rightround the boy's neck, from left to right, then from right to left, thehead being laid lovingly each time against his little master's cheek.
"Now then, Admiral, when ye're quite done cuddlin' of me, we'll have alook for father's barge."
From his elevated coign of vantage, Ransey Tansey could see for manymiles all around him. On this bright, sunny summer morn, it was alandscape of infinite beauty; on undulating, well-wooded, cultivatedcountry, green and beautiful everywhere, except in the west, where avillage sheltered