Five Go Down to the Sea

„Blow! I"ve got a puncture!" said Dick. „My tyre"s going flat. Worst time it could possibly happen!"

Julian glanced down at Dick"s back tyre. Then he looked at his watch. „You"ve just got time to pump it up and hope for the best," he said. „We"ve got seven minutes before the train goes."

Dick jumped off and took his pump. The others got off their bicycles, too, and stood round, watching to see if the tyre blew up well or not.

They were on their way to Kirrin Station to catch the train, bicycles and all. Their luggage had gone on in advance, and they thought they had left plenty of time to ride to the station, get their bicycles label ed and put in the luggage van, and catch the train comfortably.

„We can"t miss the train!" said George, putting on her best scowl. She always hated it when things went wrong.

„We can. Easiest thing in the world!" said Julian, grinning at George"s fierce face. „What do you say, Timmy?"

Timmy barked sharply, as if to say he certainly agreed. He licked George"s hand and she patted him. The scowl left her face as she saw Dick"s tyre coming up well. They"d just do it!

Dick felt his tyre, gave a sigh of relief, and put his pump back in its place.

„Phew! That was hot work," he said, mounting his bicycle. „Hope it wil last til we get to the station. I was afraid you"d have to go without me."

„Oh, no," said Anne. „We"d have caught the next train. Come on, Timmy!"

The four cousins and Timmy the dog raced on towards the station. They cycled into the station yard just as the signal went up to show the train was due. The porter came towards them, his big round face red and smiling.

„I sent your luggage off for you," he said. „Not much between you, I must say - just one small trunk!"

„Well, we don"t wear much on holidays," said Julian. „Can you label our bikes quickly for us? I see the train is due."

The porter began to label the four bicycles. He didn"t hurry. He wouldn"t let the train go off again til he had done his job, that was certain. There it was now, coming round the bend.

„You going off to Cornwall, I see?" said the porter. „And to Tremannon, too. You want to be careful of bathing there. That"s a fierce coast and a hungry sea."

„Oh, do you know it?" said Anne, surprised. „Is it a nice place?"

„Nice? Wel , I dunno about that," said the porter, raising his voice as the train came rumbling in. „I used to go out in my uncle"s fishing-boat all round there, and it"s wild and lonely. I shouldn"t have thought it was much of a place for a holiday - no pier, no ice-cream sel ers, no concert parties, no cinema, no..."

„Good," said Julian. „We can do without al those, thank you. We mean to bathe, and hire a boat, and fish, and bike al round about. That"s our kind of holiday!"

„Woof!" said Timmy, wagging his tail.

„Yes, and yours too," said George, rubbing his big head. „Come on, we"d better get into a carriage."

„I"l see to your bikes," said the porter. „Have a good holiday, and if you see my uncle, tel him you know me. His name"s same as mine, John Polpenny."

„ “By Tre, Pol and Pen, you may know the Cornishmen”," quoted Julian, getting into a carriage with the others. „Thanks, John. We"ll look up your uncle if we can!"

They each took a corner seat, and Timmy went to the opposite door, put his feet up on the ledge and his nose out of the window. He meant to stand like that all the way! He loved the rush of air past his nose.

„Timmy, come down," said George.

Timmy took no notice. He was happy. It was holidays again, and he was with everybody he loved. They were going away together. There might be rabbits to chase. Timmy had never yet caught a rabbit, but he went on hoping!

„Now, we"re off again!" said Julian, settling into his corner. „Gosh, how I do like the beginnings of a holiday, getting ready, looking at maps, planning how to get there, and then at last setting off!"

„On a lovely fine day like this!" said Anne. „George, how did your mother hear of Tremannon Farm?"

„Well, it was Father who heard about it, real y," said George. „You know Father"s got a lot of scientist friends who like to go off to lonely places and work out al kinds of ideas in peace and quiet. Well, one of them went to Tremannon Farm because he heard it was one of the quietest places in the kingdom. Father said his friend went there all skin and bone and came back as fat as a Christmas goose, and Mother said that sounded just the place for us to go to these hols!"

„She"s right!" said Dick. „I feel a bit skin-and-bonish myself after slaving at school for three months. I could do with fattening up!"

They all laughed. „You may feel skin-and-bonish, but you don"t look it," said Julian. „You want a bit of exercise to take your fat off. We"l get it, too. We"ll walk and bike and bathe and climb..."

„And eat," said George. „Timmy, you must be polite to the farm dogs, or you"l have a bad time."

„And you must remember that when you go out to play, you"l have to ask the other dogs"

permission before you can chase their rabbits," said Dick solemnly.

Timmy thumped his tail against Dick"s knees and opened his mouth to let his tongue hang out. He looked exactly as if he were laughing.

„That"s right. Grin at my jokes," said Dick. „I"m glad you"re coming, Tim, it would be awful without you."

„He always has come with us, on every holiday," said George. „And he"s shared in every single adventure we"ve ever had."

„Good old Timmy," said Julian. „Well, he may share in one this time, too. You never know."

„I"m not going to have any adventures this time," said Anne in a firm voice. „I just want a holiday, nothing more. Let"s have a jolly good time, and not go on looking for anything strange or mysterious or adventurous."

„Right," said Julian. „Adventures are off this time. Definitely off. And if anything does turn up, we pooh-pooh it and walk off. Is that agreed?"

„Yes," said Anne.

„Al right," said George, doubtful y.

„Fine," said Dick.

Julian looked surprised. „Gosh, you"re a poor lot, I must say. Well, I"l fall in with you, if you"re all agreed. Even if we find ourselves right in the very middle of Goodness Knows What, we say “No, thank you” and walk away. That"s agreed."

„Well," began George, „I"m not sure if..." But what she wasn"t sure about nobody knew because Timmy chose that moment to fall off the seat. He yelped as he hit the floor with a bang, and immediately went back to his post at the window, putting his head right out.

„We"ll have to get him in and shut the windows," said George. „He might get something in his eye."

„No. I"m not going to cook slowly to a cinder in this hot carriage with all the windows shut, not even for the sake of Timmy"s eyes," said Julian, firmly. „If you can"t make him obey you and come inside, he can jolly well get something in his eye."

However, the problem was solved very quickly because at that moment the train gave a most unearthly shriek and disappeared headlong into utter blackness. Timmy, astounded, fel back into the carriage and tried to get on to George"s knee, terrified.

„Don"t be a baby, Timmy," said George. „It"s only a tunnel! Ju, haul him off me. It"s too hot to try and nurse a heavy dog like Timmy. Stop it, Timmy, I tel you it"s only a tunnel!"

The journey seemed very long. The carriage was so hot, and the train stopped at so many little out-of-the-way places, sometimes for ten minutes at a time. They had to change twice, and sit on sun-baked stations waiting for their next train to come along. Timmy panted loudly and hung his tongue out; George begged the porters for water at each changing-place.

They had their lunch with them, but somehow they weren"t hungry. They got dirtier and dirtier, and thirstier and thirstier, for they very quickly drank the orangeade they had brought with them.

„Phew!" said Julian, fanning himself with a magazine. „What wouldn"t I give for a bathe?

Timmy, don"t pant all over me. You make me feel hotter stil ."

„What time do we get there?" asked Anne.

„Well, we have to get out at Polwil y Halt," said Julian. „That"s the nearest place to Tremannon Farm. We bike from there. With luck, we should be there by tea-time."

„We ought to have brought masses more to drink," said Dick. „I feel like a man who"s been lost in a sun-scorched desert for weeks."

They were al extremely glad when they at last arrived at Polwil y Halt. At first they didn"t think it was a halt, but it was. It was nothing but a tiny wooden stage built beside the railway. The children sat and waited. They hadn"t even seen the little wooden stage or the smal sign that said „Polwil y Halt".

The sound of impatient feet came along the little platform. The guard"s perspiring face appeared at the window.

„Well? Didn"t you want to get out here? You going to sit there al day?"

„Gosh! Is this Polwil y?" said Julian, leaping up. „Sorry. We didn"t know it was a Halt. We"ll be out in half a tick."

The train started off almost before they had banged the door. They stood there on the funny little staging, all alone save for their four bicycles at the other end. The little Halt seemed lonely and lost, set in the midst of rol ing fields and rounded hil s. Not a building was in sight!

But not far off to the west George"s sharp eyes saw something lovely. She pulled Julian"s arm. „Look, the sea! Over there, between the hil s, in the dip. Can"t you see it? I"m sure it"s the sea. What a heavenly blue."

„It"s always that gorgeous blue on the Cornish coast," said Dick. „Ah, I feel better when I see that. Come on, let"s get our bikes and find our way to Tremannon Farm. If I don"t get something to drink soon I shal certainly hang my tongue out, like Timmy.

They went to get their bikes. Dick felt his back tyre. It was a bit soft, but not too bad. He could easily pump it up again. „How far is it to Tremannon Farm?" he asked.

Julian looked at his notes. „ “Get out at Polwil y Halt. Then bike four miles to Tremannon Farm, along narrow lanes. Tremannon Vil age is about one mile before you get to the farm.” Not too bad. We might get some lemonade, or even an ice-cream, in the vil age."

„Woof, woof," said Timmy, who knew the word ice-cream very well indeed.

„Poor Tim!" said Anne. „He"l be so hot running beside our bikes. We"d better go slowly."

„Well, if anyone thinks I"m going to tear along, he can think again," said Dick. „I"l go as slowly as you like, Anne!"

They set off with Timmy down a queer little lane, deep-set between high hedges. They went slowly for Timmy"s sake. He panted along valiantly. Good old Timmy! He would never give up as long as he was with the four children.

It was about five o"clock and a very lovely evening. They met nobody at all, not even a slow old farm cart. It was even too hot for the birds to sing. No wind blew. There seemed a curious silence and loneliness everywhere.

Julian looked back at the other three with a grin. „Adventure is in the air! I feel it. We"re all set for adventure! But no, we"ll turn our backs on it and say: “Away with you!” That"s agreed!"

It certainly was a lovely ride to Tremannon Farm. Poppies blew by the wayside in hundreds, and honeysuckle threw its scent out from the hedges as they passed. The corn stood high in the fields, touched with gold already, and splashed with the scarlet of the poppies.

They came to Tremannon Vil age at last. It was really nothing but a winding street, set with a few shops and houses, and beyond that, straggling out, were other houses. Farther off, set in the hil s, were a few farm-houses, their grey stone wal s gleaming in the sun.

The four children found the general store and went in. „Any ice-cream?" said Julian hopeful y. But there was none. What a blow! There was orangeade and lemonade, however, quite cool through being kept down in the cel ar of the store.

„You be the folks that old Mrs Penruthlan be having in?" said the vil age shopkeeper. „She do be expecting of you. Furriners, bain"t you?"

„Well, not exactly," said Julian, remembering that to many Cornish folk anyone was a foreigner who did not belong to Cornwal . „My mother had a great-aunt who lived in Cornwal al her life. So we"re not exactly “furriners”, are we?"

„You"re furriners al right," said the bent little shopkeeper, looking at Julian with bird-like eyes. „Your talk is furrin-like, too. Like that man Mrs Penruthlan had before. We reckoned he was mad, though he was harmless enough."

„Real y?" said Julian, pouring himself out a third lemonade. „Well, he was a scientist, and if you"re going to be a real y good one you have to be a bit mad, you know. At least, so I"ve heard. Gol y, this lemonade is good. Can I have another bottle, please?"

The old woman suddenly laughed, sounding just like an amused hen. „Well, well, Marty Penruthlan"s got a fine meal ready for you, but seems like you won"t be able to eat a thing, not with all that lemonade splashing about in your innards!"

„Don"t say you can hear the splashing," said Julian earnestly. „Very bad manners, that!