The Treasure Cave: sea tales of Tiptoes Lightly (4 page)

BOOK: The Treasure Cave: sea tales of Tiptoes Lightly
4.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Come in,
Junebug,” said Tom, using her nickname and waving her in.

June Berry
wasn’t sure if it was safe or not. She looked at the bluff above the opening.
It was solid rock. She walked back along the ledge and glanced down at her dad.
He was still lying on the sand. So she returned and crawled in.

“It’s a cave,”
she said as soon as she got inside.

The cave was
big enough to stand up in. The floor was sandy and the walls solid rock. At the
back there seemed to be another passage, but it dived downwards and was blocked
by sand.

“A secret
cave,” said Tom grinning from ear to ear and looking around. “We’re the first
ones here—ever!”

He went all
the way around the walls. They were smooth and water worn.

“It looks
safe,” he said. “It’s been buried underground for ages and ages.”

“This can be
our Treasure Cave,” said June Berry.

Tom’s eyes
widened. “We can make swords and protect our gold from pirates and sea
dragons.”

“No sea dragon
will dare to come close to me!” shouted June Berry fiercely, waving her arm
about.

“Nor me!”
declared Tom.

“First we need
to get real swords,” said June Berry. “I saw some outside,” and she scooted out
the door with Tom at her heels.

Chapter
11

Tiptoes
meets Obaro

Tiptoes sat on
a log close to Farmer John. He was lying in the sand and enjoying the sun. She
watched the rising tide swirl around the two sea stacks that marked the end of
the long sandy beach. After a while she noticed Tom Nutcracker and June Berry
climb up the rocky bluff and crawl into a narrow tunnel. The tunnel had been
uncovered by a fresh landslide.

“What are
those guys up to?” she thought.

A few minutes
later they came out and clambered over the rocks to the next bay. They were
searching for something and were very excited. Tiptoes was curious. She flew to
the tunnel and went inside.

“What a
wonderful cave,” she exclaimed, looking around. “These walls are water worn. I
bet a river ran through here a long  time ago.”

“That’s right
… that’s right,” said a hollow voice behind her.

“Eeek!”
screeched Tiptoes, spinning around.

In front of
her was the oddest creature. She stared and stared, trying to work out what it
was.

“Hello, Mr …
um … Cave Thingy,” said Tiptoes, trying to sound polite.

“I am not a
Cave Thingy … Thingy,” said the creature, his voice echoing in the hollow cave.
“There’s no need to be rude … so rude.”

“I’m sorry,”
said Tiptoes, “I didn’t … I mean … I don’t know what you are. You look so … um
… um … different.”

“I’m the cave
spirit … spirit,” said the creature. “If you have to know, I am a kind of
gnome, only turned, turned inside out.”

“That’s
wonderful,” said Tiptoes, trying to sound cheerful. “I have gnome friends, Pine
Cone and Pepper Pot. Perhaps you’re cousins.”

The cave
spirit did not look pleased. Tiptoes wished he wouldn’t stare so hard. He was
so odd and funny looking—and his voice kept echoing his last words. It was
strange, very strange.

“I meant my
friends might be distant gnome cousins,” said Tiptoes, “ … very, very distant.”
She wasn’t sure why the cave gnome looked so displeased.

“Well … you
look odd and funny to me, to me, Miss Blue Dress with Yellow Wings,” said the
creature grumpily. “Here I am, I am, locked in this cave for thousands of
years, thousands of years, and as soon as the door opens, it opens and in come
two chattery … I don’t know what they are … creatures, creatures with bodies
full of … full of  … stuff, stuff.

“That was Tom
and June,” said Tiptoes. “They’re children.”

“Children!
Children of what?” said the cave spirit. “Are they trees?”

“They’re human
beings,” said Tiptoes.

“So that’s
what human beings turned out like, out like,” said the cave spirit. “Very
noisy, and quick, very quick, like you—only you’re worse, much worse. After all
this coming and going, and going, in my cave, you waltz in and call me a Cave
Thingy and think I am odd and funny looking and speak strangely … strangely!”

“I suppose,”
said Tiptoes, hanging her head. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t looked at it that way. And
I didn’t realize you had been here for so very long.”

Tiptoes hadn’t
meant to be rude. The cave gnome really did look different. Where his body
should be was nothing but a hollow space—just like a cave! On the outside of
the hollow space was the gnome looking into the hollow space. For clothes, if
you can call them clothes, he had gray-brown and yellow-brown swirls, just like
the colors of the rocks in the cave, only these swirls moved and changed
depending on what he was saying or feeling. At the moment the colors had gone
dark brown and heavy. He also had two deeply set eyes which looked like two
small caves. But, and this was the strangest part, his eyes looked into his
hollow body; this meant he had to turn his back on Tiptoes when he wanted to
look at her! Then he peered across his empty space and out through his back.
Tiptoes had never seen anything like it. She thought he must be very, very
ancient.

“Yes, I am,”
said the creature. “I am.”

“You are
what?” asked Tiptoes.

“Ancient,” said
the creature. “Ancient.”

Tiptoes
clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oops,” she thought, “that odd creature can
read my mind.”

“Yes, I can, I
can,” said the cave spirit, frowning. “And stop thinking me odd, so odd! I hear
everything that goes on inside empty spaces. Empty spaces like caves or
seashells or heads like yours, like yours.”

“My head is
not empty!” declared Tiptoes.

The cave gnome
grinned. “To me it is, it is,” he chuckled.

Tiptoes put
her hands on her hips. She was huffing and puffing. What an insult! But the
more she huffed and puffed the more the cave gnome brightened and grinned.
Finally Tiptoes had no choice but to burst out laughing.

“Fine,” she
said. “Sometimes it is empty! What’s your name?”

“Obaro,
Obaro,” said the cave gnome. “Nice to meet you, meet you Miss Tiptoes Lightly
of the Great Oak Tree, Oak Tree.”

Tiptoes gave a
little curtsy and Obaro closed his deep-set eyes and vanished.

Chapter
12

Swords
to defend the Treasure Cave

The beach ran
from the railway trestle all the way out to the Nutcracker’s cottage. Now wide,
now narrow, it had soft, golden sand, wild surf and sheltered nooks and
crannies along the bluffs. Two jagged sea stacks, huge rocks that stuck out of
the sand and surf, marked the end of the beach. After that came the rugged
coastline that ran for a couple of miles before it came to the wide, sweeping
bay with the lighthouse.

Tom Nutcracker
and June Berry were looking for swords. They were in the first bay just around
the corner from the sea stacks. The bay was filled with jumbled rocks and lots
of flotsam was caught in the crevasses.

“Here’s one,”
said June, picking up a slim piece of driftwood. She swung it in the air. It
whistled and hissed. “Perfect,” she said. “Now I need to find a belt.”

Soon Tom found
a sword too. It had a narrow handle and a wide blade. He grasped it with two
hands and whacked a dangerous looking rock. The sword held and didn’t break.

“This is my
mighty broadsword,” declared Tom, looking fierce. He climbed onto a shelf
overlooking the waves and the two sea stacks. “I am King Thomas Nutcracker the
Sea-Lord,” he declared, holding his sword high. “Behold my two sea castles,
Ragged and Jagged. They are mine. I defend them. No pesky pirates will conquer
them, nor find my gold in the Treasure Cave.”

“Yea!” shouted
June Berry, climbing up and joining him. “Me too! Me too! Yea for the Treasure Cave! We fearless fighters will defend our treasure from sea dragons and pirates!”

They were
still shouting and screaming when Farmer John found them. They were so busy
they didn’t see him come up behind.

“What are you
two doing?” he asked.

“Yikes!”
screeched Tom and June, whirling around.

“Dad!!! Don’t
frighten us!” they cried.

Farmer John
laughed. “How can I frighten such fearsome warriors?” he said. “And besides, it’s
time to eat.”

So they
clambered over the rocks to the beach and headed for home. Tom and June ran
ahead and charged up the bluff, still shouting and screaming and waving their
swords at the sea dragons swimming about offshore.

Chapter
13

A
Ship

After lunch
Tom and June rummaged around the cottage for belts. They found a piece of old
rope in the mud room and Farmer John cut it in two. They wrapped it round their
waists, made a knot, and slid in their swords. Now they were held properly.
From a box of rags in the attic they cut two bandanas, one red and one blue.

“Now you look
like real pirates,” said Farmer John. “All you need is a ship.”

“A ship—I
forgot!” said Tom. “We’ll have to build a ship,” and he grabbed June Berry’s
hand and pulled her out the door.

Across the sea
meadow they raced and zigzagged down the path to the beach. Soon they found the
perfect place for their ship. It was close to the bluff, just below the cave,
but high enough up the beach that only a fierce storm and high tide could reach
it. They searched for driftwood and found a long pole. Tom dug a hole into the
sand. He stuck the pole in and held it while June Berry packed sand around it.

“There, that’s
the mast,” said Tom. “Now we make the ship,” and he traced the shape with his
foot.

They scooped
out sand from inside the boat and hauled driftwood planks and logs to make the
hull. By late afternoon it was half finished and they could see the boat’s
shape. Tom and June climbed inside and imagined being on the ocean. They were
still on board when Farmer John turned up with Lucy. He had two bottles of
water and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

“Hey-ho, me
mateys!” cried Farmer John from the top of the bluff. “That’s a fine ship to
sail the seven seas. I thought the Pirates of Summer’s Fort would need some rum
and ship’s biscuits.”

BOOK: The Treasure Cave: sea tales of Tiptoes Lightly
4.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Valour's Choice by Tanya Huff
Hummingbird by LaVyrle Spencer
Erin's Awakening by Sasha Parker
The Essential Galileo by Galilei, Galileo, Finocchiaro, Maurice A.
Mr. Darcy's Obsession by Reynolds, Abigail
Storm Watch (Woodland Creek) by Welsh, Hope, Woodland Creek
The Genuine Article by Patricia Rice
The Dutch by Richard E. Schultz
The Art of Dreaming by Carlos Castaneda