Five Have a Mystery to Solve (5 page)

„Anyway, a lot of sightseers had an awful fright when they tried to land. BANG-BANG!

Shooting al round them! My granny told me that someone she knew, who had a lot of money, wanted to buy part of the island - and he had his hat shot right off when his boat tried to land!"

„Is there anyone there now?" asked Julian. „I suppose the old fel ow is dead? Has he a son or anyone to follow him?"

„I don"t think so," said Wilfrid. „But I don"t know an awful lot about it. I tel you who does, though - one of the groundsmen on the golf-course, called Lucas. He was once one of the watchmen who kept visitors away from the island."

„It might be rather interesting to talk to him," said Dick. „I"d rather like to walk over the golf-course, too. My father plays a good game of golf, and I know something about it."

„Well, let"s go now," said George. „Timmy is longing for a good long walk, even though he ran al the way down to the vil age and back today! Walk, Timmy? Walk?"

„Woof-woof," said Timmy, and leapt up at once.

Walk? Of course he was ready for a walk! He leapt all round George, pretending to pounce at her feet. Wilfrid tried to catch hold of him, but couldn"t. „I wish you were my dog," he told Timmy. „I"d never let you out of my sight."

Timmy ran up to him then, and gave him a loving lick. It was astonishing how he seemed to like Wilfrid. Nobody could understand it. As George said, „Timmy is usual y so particular about making friends! Stil , Wilfrid is nicer than he was!"

The Five, with Wilfrid too, went up the hil , crossed over the road that ran along the top, and climbed over a stile. They found themselves on one of the fairways of the golf-course, not far from a green, in which stood a pole with a bright red flag waving at the top.

Wilfrid knew very little about the game of golf, but the others had watched their parents play many a time. „Look out - someone"s going to pitch his ball on this green," said Julian, and they stood by the hedge to watch the man play his ball. He struck it beautiful y with his club, and the bal rose, and fel right on to the green. It rolled to within about a foot of the hole in which the flag-pole stood.

Timmy ran forward a few steps, as he always did when a ball rol ed near him. Then he remembered that this was golf, and he must never, never touch a ball on the fairway or on the green.

The players passed by, and went on with their game. Then they disappeared, to play off another tee.

„Well, let"s see if we can find Lucas now," said Wilfrid, crossing the fairway to where he could get a good look over the course. „You"l like him. There"s not much he doesn"t know about the animals and birds here. I think he"s a wonderful man!"

Wilfrid stood on the slope of a hil and looked all round. „There he is!" he said, pointing to where a man was trimming up a ditch. „See? Down there. He"s using his bil -hook to make things tidy."

They went down the hil towards the ditch at the bottom. „I bet there"s an awful lot of bal s in that ditch," said Wilfrid. „Hey, Lucas! How are you?"

„Afternoon, young sir," said the groundsman, turning towards them. His face was as brown as a well-ripened nut, and his arms and shoulders were even browner. He wore no shirt or vest, and his dark, deep-set eyes twinkled as they took in the five children and the dog.

He held out a brown hand to Timmy, who licked it gravely, wagging his tail. Then Timmy smelt Lucas al over and final y lay down with his head on the man"s feet.

„Ha!" said Lucas to Timmy, and gave a loud, hearty laugh. „Think I"m a-going to stand here all afternoon, do you? Well, I aren"t. I got work to do, ole dog, so git up! You"re a right good-un, you are, a-laying on my foot, so"s I can"t move a step! Want me to stop and have a rest, don"t you?"

„Lucas, we came to ask you something," said Wilfrid. „About the island in the harbour.

What"s its name - and does anyone live there now?"

„We can see it from that little cottage almost at the top of the hil on the other side of the road," said Dick. „It looks awfully quiet and lonely."

„And so it is," said Lucas, sitting down on the bank of the ditch. Timmy at once sat up beside him, sniffing him with pleasure. He put his arm round the dog, and began to talk, his bright eyes going from one to other of the children. He was so friendly, and so completely natural that the children felt he was an old, old friend. They sat down too, sniffing the smel of the gorse bushes nearby. „They smell like coconut," thought Anne. „Yes

- just like coconut!"

„Well, now," said Lucas, „that island"s always been a mystery-place. It"s called Wailing Island by some folks because the wind makes a right queer wailing noise round some of its high cliffs. And others call it Whispering Island because it"s full of trees that whisper in the strong winds that always blow across it. But most of us cal it Keep-Away Island - and that"s the best name of all, for there"s never been any welcome there, what with the dark cliffs, the cruel rocks, and the dense woods."

Lucas paused, and looked at the listening faces around him. He was a born story-teller, and knew it. How often Wilfrid had listened to his tales of the birds and animals he met during his work on the course! Lucas was one of the few people that the boy admired and loved.

„Do go on, Lucas!" said Wilfrid, touching the man"s bare, warm arm. „Tell us about the rich old man who hated everyone, and bought the island years ago."

„I"m tel ing the story my own way," said Lucas, with great dignity. „You sit patient now, or I"l start my ditching again. Sit like this dog, see - he don"t even twitch a muscle, good dog that he is. Well now, about this rich old man. He was so afraid of being robbed that he bought that lonely island. He built himself a great castle right in the middle of the thick woods. Cut down about a hundred trees, to make room for it, so the story goes, and brought every single stick and stone from the mainland. Did you see the old quarry on this here golf-course, as you came along to me?"

„Yes, we did," said Julian, remembering. „I felt sorry for anyone who sent a golf-bal there!"

„Well, young sir, out of that quarry came the great stones that the old man used for his castle," said Lucas. „"Tis said that big, Hat-bottomed boats had to be made to ferry the stones across to the island - and to this day the road through this golf-course is the one made by horses dragging the great stones down to the water"s-edge."

„Were you alive then?" said Wilfrid.

„Bless you, boy, no, of course not," said Lucas, with a great chuckle of a laugh. „Long afore my time, that was. Well, the stone house - or castle - whatever you like to call it - was built. And the old man brought to it all kinds of treasures - beautiful statues, some of gold, it was said, but that I disbelieve. Ah, many"s the queer tale I"ve heard of what that rich old man took over to Whispering Island - a great bed made of pure gold, and set with precious stones - a necklace of rubies as big as pigeons" eggs - a wonderful sword with a jewel ed handle worth a king"s fortune - and other things I disremember."

He paused and looked round. Julian asked him a quick question. „What happened to all these things?"

„Well now, he fel foul of the king of the land, and one morning what did he see landing on the shores of his island but ships of al kinds," said Lucas, enjoying the rapt attention of his audience. „A lot of them were sunk by the wicked rocks but enough men were left to storm the queer stone castle in the wood, and they kil ed the old man and all his servants."

„Did they find the treasures the old fel ow had collected?" asked Dick.

„Never a one!" said Lucas. „Never a one. Some say it was al a tale - the old man never did bring any wonders there - and some say they"re stil there, on Whispering Island. Meself, I think it"s al a yarn - but a good yarn at that!"

„Who owns the island now?" asked Dick.

„Well, an old fel ow and his wife went to live there-maybe they paid rent to the Crown for it, maybe they bought it - but they didn"t care for anything except for the birds and the animals there," said Lucas, picking up his curved bil -hook again, and hacking lightly at some briars. „They wouldn"t allow nobody there, and it was they who kept the gamekeepers with guns to frighten away sightseers. They wanted peace and quiet for themselves, and for al the wildlife on the island - and a fine idea too. Many a time when I was there with the other keepers - three of us there were - many a time I"ve had rabbits gambol ing over my feet, and snakes gliding by me - and the birds as tame as canaries."

„I"d love to go there," said Wilfrid, his eyes shining. „I"d have a good time with all the wild creatures! Can anyone go there now?"

„No," said Lucas, getting up. „Not a soul has lived in the old stone castle since the old man and his wife fel il and died. The place is empty. The island belongs to a great-nephew of the old couple now, but he never goes there. Just keeps a couple of men on the island to frighten off visitors - pretty fierce they are, so I"ve been told. Well, there you are, that"s the story of Whispering Island - not very pleasant - a bit grim and ugly. It belongs to the birds and the beasts now, and good luck to them!"

„Thank you for telling us the story," said Anne, and the old countryman smiled down at her, his eyes wrinkling, and his brown hand patting her cheek.

„I"l be off to my hedging and ditching again," he said, „and I"l feel the sun warm on my bare back, and hear the birds a-singing to me from the bushes. That"s happiness enough for anyone - and pity it is that more folks don"t know it!"

The children walked round the golf-course together, after talking to old Lucas. „We must keep out of the way of anyone playing," said Dick, „or we might get hit on the head with a bal ! Hey, Timmy, what are you doing in the bracken?"

Timmy came out with something in his mouth. He dropped it at George"s feet. It was a golf-ball, fairly new. George picked it up. „What do we do with this?" she said. „There"s no golfer near us. It must be a lost bal ."

„Well, all bal s lost on golf-courses should be taken in to the pro," said Julian. „By right they belong to him if found on the course."

„What"s a pro?" asked Anne.

„A professional golfer - a man who"s very very good at the game, and is in charge of a golf-course," explained Julian. „Well I"m blessed - here comes old Tim again with another bal . Timmy, we ought to hire you out to golfers who keep losing their bal s - you"d save them no end of trouble!"

Timmy was pleased to be patted and praised. He set off into the rough again at once, sniping here and there.

„Anyone would think that golf-balls smelt like rabbits or something, the way Timmy sniffs them out!" said Anne, as Timmy ran up with yet another ball. „My word, golfers must be jolly careless, losing so many bal s!"

They went on round the course, which was set with great stretches of gorse, ful of bril iant blossom. A baby rabbit fled from the bracken as Timmy nosed there for bal s. Timmy chased it, and the frightened little creature dodged this way and that, trying to escape.

„Let it go, Tim, let it go!" yelled George, but Timmy was much too excited to pay any attention.

Wilfrid suddenly bent down as the rabbit raced near him, and gave a curious low whistle.

The rabbit swerved, came straight towards him, and leapt into his arms, lying there trembling. Timmy jumped up to it at once, but George dragged him away.

„NO, Timmy. Sorry, but NO, you can"t have the little thing. Down! DOWN, I say!"

Timmy gave George a disgusted look, and pattered off into the bracken, nosing for balls again. He was very cross with George. Rabbits were meant to be chased, weren"t they?

Why did George have to spoil his fun?

George stared at Wilfrid. The rabbit was stil nestling in his arms, and he was making a curious noise to it. The tiny thing was trembling from head to tail. Everyone watched it, glad that it was safe. They were al silent, astonished at the way that Wilfrid had rescued the little creature. How had the rabbit known that Wilfrid"s arms were ready to save it?

He took it to the bracken, dropped it gently, and watched it race like lightning to the nearest burrow. Then he turned and patted Timmy, who stood silently by, watching.

„Sorry, Tim," he said. „It"s so little, and you"re so big!"

„Woof," said Tim, exactly as if he understood, and he gave Wilfrid"s hand a quick lick. Then he pranced round the boy, barking, as if he wanted a game, and Wilfrid raced off with him at top speed.

The others fol owed, impressed once again by Wilfrid"s uncanny way with animals. He was such a horrid little boy in some ways - so rude, so mannerless, so selfish - then how was it that animals liked him so much? George frowned. She thought it was all wrong that animals should love Wilfrid and go to him - why, even Timmy was all over him! If she wasn"t careful he would spend more time with Wilfrid than with her! That would never do!

Timmy found five more bal s, and soon Julian"s pockets were heavy with them. They made their way to the small club-house in the distance, meaning to give in the bal s. It was set in a little dip, and looked friendly and welcoming. They all went in at the door, and Julian walked over to the pro, who was checking some score-cards. He emptied his pockets of bal s and grinned. „A present from our dog!" he said.

„My word - did he find all those?" said the pro, pleased. „Not bad ones, either. I"l stand you all some lemonade or orangeade - which wil you have?"

They al had orangeade, and the pro sent a packet of biscuits to Timmy, who was waiting patiently outside. He was delighted!

„We"re staying in that little cottage up on the hil side," said Dick. „Do you know it?"

„Course I do!" said the pro. „My grandmother lived there once upon a time. You"ve a wonderful view there, haven"t you? One of the finest in the world, I reckon! You can see Whispering Island from there, too. Ought to be cal ed “Mystery Island”! It"s said that folks have gone there, and never come back!"

„What happened to them?" asked Anne.

„Oh well - maybe it"s all a tale!" said the pro. „There"s supposed to be priceless things there, packed away somewhere - and col ectors from all over the world have come here, and tried to get over to that island - not to steal, you understand, but just to see if they could find anything worth-while and buy it for museums - or maybe for their own collections. It"s said there are statues in the wood, white as snow - but that I never did believe!"