It was a mass of small, pale creatures, pushing out a sailboat. Moominmamma looked at them for a long time, and then she called loudly: “Those are the wanderers! Those are the Hattifatteners!” and began to run towards them as fast as she could. By the time Moomintroll, the little creature and Tulippa got there, Moominmamma was standing in the midst of the Hattifatteners (who only came up to her waist), talking and asking questions and waving her arms, and very excited. She asked over and over again if they really had not seen Moominpappa, but the Hattifatteners only looked at her for a moment with their round, colourless eyes and then went on pulling the boat towards the water. “Oh dear,” Moominmamma exclaimed, “I was in such a hurry that I forgot they can’t speak, or hear anything!” And she drew a handsome Moomintroll in the sand with a big question-mark after him. But the Hattifatteners did not bother about her at all, they had got the boat down into the sea and were busy hoisting the sails. (It is also possible that they did not understand what she meant, for Hattifatteners are very stupid.)
The black bank of cloud had now risen higher, and waves were beginning to move on the sea.
“There’s nothing for it, we shall have to go with them,” said Moominmamma, at last. “The shore looks gloomy and deserted, and I don’t feel like meeting another ant-lion. Jump into the boat, children!”
“Well, it’s not on my head!” mumbled the little creature, but he climbed on board after the others all the same. The boat steered out to sea with a Hattifattener at the helm. The sky grew darker and darker all around, the tops of the waves had white foam on them, and far away thunder was rumbling. As it fluttered in the gale, Tulippa’s hair glowed with a very faint light.
“Now I’m frightened again,” said the little creature. “I’m almost beginning to wish I hadn’t come with you at all.”
“Pooh,” said Moomintroll, but then he lost the desire to say any more and crept down beside his mother. Now and then came a wave that was bigger than all the others and splashed in over the bow. The boat sailed on with taut sails at a furious speed. Sometimes they saw a mermaid dance by on the crests of the waves, sometimes they glimpsed a whole flock of little sea-trolls. The thunder rumbled louder and the lightning ran criss-cross over the sky. “Now I feel seasick, too,” said the little creature, and then he was sick while Moominmamma held his head. The sun had set long ago, but in the gleam of the lightning they noticed a sea-troll that kept trying to keep abreast of the boat. “Hello there!” cried Moomintroll through the storm, to show that he was not afraid. “Hello, hello,” said the sea-troll. “You look as though you might be a relation.”
“That would be nice,” cried Moomintroll, politely. (But he thought it was probably a very distant relation, because moomintrolls are a much finer species than sea-trolls.)
“Jump into the boat,” Tulippa called to the sea-troll, “otherwise you’ll be left behind!”
The sea-troll took a leap over the gunwale of the boat and shook the water off himself like a dog. “Grand weather,” he said. “Where are you bound for?”
“Anywhere, as long as we can reach land,” groaned the little creature, who was quite green in the face with sea-sickness.
“In that case I had better take the helm for a bit,” said the sea-troll. “If you keep on this course, you’ll go straight out to sea.”
And then he took over from the Hattifattener who sat at the helm, and made the boat alter course. It was strange how much easier it was now that they had the sea-troll with them. The boat danced along, and sometimes it made long leaps over the peaks of the waves.
The little creature began to look more cheerful, and Moomintroll shrieked with delight. Only the Hattifatteners sat staring indifferently at the horizon. They did not care about anything except travelling on from one strange place to the other.
“I know a fine harbour,” said the sea-troll. “But the entrance is so narrow that only superior seamen like myself can manage it.” He laughed loudly and made the boat make a mighty leap over the waves. Then they saw land rising out of the sea under the forked lightning. Moominmamma thought it was a wild and creepy land. “Is there anything to eat there?” she asked.
“There’s anything you like,” said the sea-troll. “Hold on, for we’re going to sail right into the harbour now!”
At that same moment the boat rushed into a black ravine where the storm howled between the enormously high faces of rock. The sea foamed white against the cliffs and it looked as though the boat was plunging straight towards them. But it flew light as a bird into a large harbour where the transparent water was as calm and green as in a lagoon.
“Thank goodness,” said Moominmamma, for she had not really trusted the sea-troll. “It does look nice here.”
“It depends on your taste,” said the sea-troll. “I suppose I prefer it when a storm is raging. I’d best be off out there again before the waves get smaller.” And then he somersaulted down into the sea, and was gone.
When the Hattifatteners saw an unknown land before them, they livened up; some began to furl the slack sails and others put out the oars and rowed eagerly towards the flowering green shore. The boat put in at a meadow that was full of wild flowers, and Moomintroll jumped ashore with the mooring-rope.
“Now bow and thank the Hattifatteners for the voyage,” said Moominmamma. And Moomintroll made a deep bow, and the little creature wagged his tail gratefully.
“Thank you very much,” said Moominmamma and Tulippa, and they curtseyed down to the ground. But when they all looked up again, the Hattifatteners had gone on their way.
“I expect they made themselves invisible,” said the little creature. “Funny folk.”
Then all four of them went in among the flowers. The sun was rising now, and there was a glittering and gleaming in the dew.
“This is where I’d like to live,” said Tulippa. “These flowers are even more beautiful than my old tulip. Besides, my hair never really matched it properly.”
“Look, a house made of real gold!” shouted the little creature suddenly, pointing. In the middle of the meadow stood a tower with the sun reflecting itself in its long row of windows. The top storey was made entirely of glass, and the sunlight gleamed in it like burning red gold.
“I wonder who lives there,” said Moominmamma. “Perhaps it’s too early to wake them.”
“But I’m so horribly hungry,” said Moomintroll. “Me too,” said the little creature and Tulippa.
And then they all looked at Moominmamma. “Well – all right, then,” she said, and then she went up to the tower and knocked on the door.
After a little while a hatch in the door opened and a boy with completely red hair looked out. “Are you shipwrecked?” he asked.
“Almost,” said Moominmamma. “But we’re most definitely hungry.”
Then the boy opened the door wide and invited them to come in. And when he caught sight of Tulippa, he made a deep bow, for he had never seen such beautiful blue hair before. And Tulippa curtseyed just as deeply, for she thought his red hair was absolutely lovely. Then they all followed him up the spiral staircase, all the way to the top storey made of glass, where they could see out over the sea in all directions. In the midst of the tower-room was a table on which there was an enormous bowl of steaming sea-pudding.
“Is that really for us?” asked Moominmamma.
“Of course,” said the boy. “I keep a look-out here when there’s a storm out at sea, and all who escape into my harbour are invited to sea-pudding. That’s how it’s always been.”
Then they sat round the table and after a very short while the whole basin was empty. (The little creature, who sometimes did not have very good manners, took the bowl with him under the table and licked it completely clean.)
“Thank you so awfully much,” said Moominmamma. “You must have invited quite a lot of people up here for sea-pudding, I should think.”
“Oh yes,” said the boy. “People from every corner of the world. Snufkins, Sea-ghosts, Little Creeps a
nd Big Folk, Snorks and Hemulens. And the odd angler fish, too.”
“I suppose you haven’t seen any moomins, by any chance?” asked Moominmmma, and she was so excited that her voice quivered.
“Yes, one,” said the boy. “That was after the cyclone last Monday.”
“That couldn’t have been Moominpappa, could it?” cried Moomintroll. “Did he keep putting his tail in his pocket?”
“Yes, he did, actually,” said the boy. “I remember it quite particularly, because it looked so funny.”
Then Moomintroll and his mother were so happy that they fell into each other’s arms, and the little creature jumped up and down and cried “hurrah”.
“Where did he go?” asked Moominmamma. “Did he say anything particular? Where is he? How was he?”
“Fine,” said the boy. “He took the road to the south.”
“Then we must go after him at once,” said Moominmamma. “Perhaps we’ll catch up with him. Hurry up, children. Where’s my handbag?” And then she rushed down the spiral staircase so fast that they could scarcely follow her.
“Wait!” cried the boy. “Wait a bit!” He caught up with them in the doorway.
“You must forgive us for not saying goodbye properly,” said Moominmamma, who was hopping up and down with impatience. “But you see …”
“It’s not that,” said the boy and was as red in the face as was his hair. I just thought – I mean whether by any chance …”
“Well, out with it,” said Moominmamma.
“Tulippa,” said the boy. “Fair Tulippa, I suppose you wouldn’t like to stay with me, would you?”
“Gladly,” replied Tulippa at once, and looked happy. “All the time I was sitting up there, I was thinking how well my hair might shine for seafarers in your glass tower. And I’m very good at making sea-pudding.” But then she became a little anxious, and looked at Moominmamma. “Of course I would terribly like to help you to look as well …” she said.
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll manage,” said Moominmamma. “We’ll send you both a letter and tell you what happened.”
Then they all hugged one another goodbye and Moomintroll went on his way southwards with his mother and the little creature. All day they walked through the flowering landscape, which Moomintroll would have liked to explore on his own. But his mother was in a hurry and would not let him stop. “Have you ever seen such funny trees?” asked the little creature. “With such terribly long trunks and then a little tuft at the top. I think they look silly.”
“It’s you who’s silly,” said Moominmamma, who was on edge. “Actually, they’re palm trees and they always look like that.”
“Have it your own way!” said the little creature, and was offended.
It had become very hot late in the afternoon. Everywhere the plants drooped, and the sun shone down with a creepy red light. Even though Moomins are very fond of warmth, they felt quite limp and would have liked to rest under one of the large cactuses that grew everywhere. But Moominmamma could not rest until they had found some trace of Moomintroll’s Papa. They continued on their way, even though it was already beginning to get dark, always straight southwards.
Suddenly the little creature stopped and listened. “What’s that pattering around us?” he asked.
And now they could hear a whispering and a rustling among the leaves. “It’s only the rain,” said Moominmamma. “Now we must crawl in under the cactuses anyway.”
All night it rained, and in the morning it was simply pouring down in bucketfuls. When they looked out, everything was grey and melancholy.
“It’s no good, we must go on,” said Moominmamma. “But here is something for you which I’ve been saving until it was really needed.” And then she produced a large bar of chocolate from her handbag. She had taken it with her from the old gentleman’s wonderful garden. She split it in two and gave them each a piece.
“Aren’t you going to have some?” asked Moomintroll.
“No,” said his mother. “I don’t like chocolate.”
So they walked on in the pouring rain all that day and all the next day, too. All they found to eat was a few sopping wet yams and one or two figs.
On the third day it rained harder than ever and each little rivulet had become a foaming torrent. It became more and more difficult to make any progress, the water rose ceaselessly, and at last they had to climb up on to a small rock so as not to be snatched away by the current. There they sat, watching the rushing eddies come closer and closer to them, and feeling that they were catching cold. Floating around everywhere were furniture and houses and big trees that the flood had carried with it.
“I think I want to go home!” said the little creature, but no one listened to him. The others had caught sight of something strange that was dancing and whirling towards them in the water.
“They’ve been shipwrecked!” cried Moomintroll, who had sharp eyes. “A whole family! Mamma, we must rescue them!”
The thing that was lurching towards them was an upholstered armchair; sometimes it got caught in the treetops that stuck up out of the water, but was pulled free by the current and went drifting on. In the chair sat a wet cat with five equally wet kittens around her.
“Poor mother!” cried Moominmamma, and she jumped out into the water all the way up to her waist. “Hold on to me, and I’ll try to catch them with my tail!”
Moomintroll took a steady hold of his mother, and the little creature was so excited that it did not manage to do anything at all. Now the armchair was whirling by; like lightning Moominmamma tied her tail in a half-hitch round one of the armrests, and then she pulled.
“Heave-ho!” she cried.
“Heave-ho!” cried Moomintroll.
“Ho, ho!” squeaked the little creature. “Don’t let go!”
Slowly the chair swung in towards the rock, and then a helpful wave came and took it up on to the land. The cat picked up her kittens by the scruff of their necks, one by one, and put them in a row to dry.
“Thank you for your kind help,” she said. “This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. It was a cat-astrophe!”
And then she began to lick her children.
“I think the weather’s clearing up,” said the little creature, who wanted to make them think about something else. (He was embarrassed because he had not managed to help in the rescue.) And it was true – the clouds were moving apart and a shaft of sunlight flew straight down, and then another – and all of a sudden the sun was shining over the enormous, steaming surface of the water.
“Hurrah!” cried Moomintroll. “Now everything will be all right, you’ll see!”
A small breeze arose and chased the clouds away and shook the tree-tops that were heavy with rain. The agitated water calmed down, somewhere a bird began to chirp and the cat purred in the sunshine. “Now we can go on,” said Moominmamma firmly. “We don’t have time to wait until the water sinks away. Get up into the armchair, children, and then I’ll push it out into the lake.”
“I shall stay here,” said the cat, and yawned. “One should never make a needless fuss. When the ground is dry I’ll walk home again.” And her five kittens, who had recovered in the sunshine, sat up and yawned too.
Then Moominmamma pushed the armchair out from the shore. “Go carefully!” cried the little creature. He was sitting on the backrest and looking around, for it had occurred to him that they might find something valuable floating in the water after the flood. For example, a casket full of jewels. Why not? He kept a sharp watch, and when he suddenly saw something gleaming in the water, he shouted loudly with excitement. “Go that way,” he cried. “There’s something shining over there!”
“We haven’t got time to fish up everything that’s floating around,” said Moominmamma, but she paddled that way all the same, because she was a kind Mamma.
“It’s just an old bottle,” said the little creature, disappointed, when he had hauled it up with his tail.
“And no nice sweet drink
in it either,” said Moomintroll.
“But don’t you see?” said his mother, seriously. “It’s something very interesting, it’s a message in a bottle. There’s a letter inside.” And then she took a corkscrew out of her handbag and uncorked the bottle.
With trembling hands she spread out the letter on her knee and read aloud:
Dear finder, please do what you can to rescue me! My beautiful house has been swept away by the flood and now I am sitting lonely, hungry and cold in a tree while the water rises higher and higher.
An unhappy moomin
“Lonely and hungry and cold,” said Moominmamma, and she cried. “Oh, my poor dear Moomintroll, your father has probably drowned long ago!”
“Don’t cry,” said Moomintroll. “Perhaps he’s sitting in a tree somewhere very close. After all, the water is going down as fast as can be.” And so it was.
Here and there hillocks and fences and roofs were already sticking up above the surface of the water, and now the birds were singing at the tops of their voices.
The armchair bobbed slowly along towards a hill where a lot of people were running about, pulling their belongings out of the water. “Why, there’s my armchair,” cried a big Hemulen who was gathering his dining-room furniture together on the shore. “What do you think you’re doing sailing around in my armchair?”