[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

door.  Break it up! Break it ! He was hit full in the face with a pillow
which exploded and sent more feathers flying everywhere. Chip came up sneezing
and blowing short blasts on his whistle. Now on his hands and knees, he made
another attempt to get inside Cabin 13, sneezing and howling madly.
Rudy pointed towards the mess hall.  Look. A thundering herd of clones, he
observed.  Now the feathers will really fly 
Mike, who had not stopped laughing since Harold Greene s fall, could not
reply.
The ground trembled and whistles shrilled as the counsellors hurled themselves
into the heart of the ruckus. For the next few minutes the area boiled like a
volcano. Pillows shot around like lightning bolts, and the feathers were so
thick they obstructed all vision. Then, slowly, the riot began to peter out.
Still, it was a full ten minutes before the air cleared and silence fell.
Slowly, and with much effort, Chip got to his feet. His face flaming red, he
walked through the crowd, which parted in front of him, sensing the intensity
of his emotions. Still he walked, until he was directly facing the side wall
of the cabin. He stared at it for what seemed like a long time. Then he threw
his head back, roared his anger to the sky, lifted his foot and dealt the
cabin a mighty kick.
Crack!
A large chunk of the cabin wall splintered away and fell inside the building.
A long, jagged split appeared in the wall itself, extending from the hole all
the way up to the window. The widow frame came loose and the glass shattered.
The split divided into a number of smaller cracks which spidered through the
wood up to the roof. A lone roof shingle jarred loose and fell to the ground,
landing at Chip s feet with a soft thud. He looked down at it incredulously as
the breeze whistled softly through the gaping hole in the cabin.
There was an awful silence.
 Say, came the dry voice of Rudy Miller,  it looks as if we re going to have
to sleep in trees after all.
* * *
Deep in the wooded area beside the creek, the beaver stirred restlessly. Once
again human noise had disturbed him. There had been loud noises when his old
dam was destroyed. This dam must remain safe.
5
Land ho!
It was three o clock when Rudy and Mike tiptoed out of the emergency tent
which had been hastily erected for the former occupants of the now
uninhabitable Cabin 13.
 Two hours sleep! moaned Mike as they made their way to the dock. The boys
had been up until one digging in the rubble for their belongings and setting
up the emergency tent to shelter themselves for the night.  Why can t we
escape when we ve had some rest?
 There ll never be a better time than this, Rudy insisted.  The clones are
all so exhausted that they wouldn t wake up if we fired a cannon in the
Page 17
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
compound. His eyes scanned the boats bobbing at the dock.  Here s a nice
little sailboat. And there s a fairly good breeze. He nodded, satisfied.  We
should be on the mainland in no time.
 It s too dark, mumbled Mike, struggling into his life jacket.
 It s only dark, said Rudy,  because you haven t opened your eyes yet. Snap
out of it. It s going to take two of us to get this thing across the water.
He buckled himself into his own life jacket.
 I m tired.
 Life jackets on correctly? snapped Rudy crisply.  Yup. Emergency oars?& Yup.
Bailing bucket? .. Hey, we ve even got a bailing bucket. How about that?
 Extra gas can. You forgot extra gas can.
 No, thank you, sir, said Rudy.  This is a sailboat. And may I remind you
that there will be no sleeping on board by passengers or crew. We will be
leaving port in five seconds. Since you still have one foot on the dock, I
recommend that you make up your mind.
Mike jumped aboard and looked oddly at his companion. It was remarkable how
even the thought of leaving Algonkian Island managed to animate Rudy s
personality.
Rudy ran up the sail and slowly the boat began to creep away from the dock.
 Ahoy, there, Webster. Look alive or I ll have you swabbing the deck.
 Do you have to do that? grumbled Mike.
 Yes, I have to do that, explained Rudy.  You re falling asleep. Take a new
port-starboard heading! Man the poop deck! Trim the mains l! Avast, ye swab!
 I can t go port and starboard at the same time, growled Mike.  We have no
poop deck. And that s not just the mainsail it s our only sail 
 You do refuse to enter into the spirit of the thing, don t you? said Rudy
with mock dejection.  We re moving along really well, I think. He shaded his
eyes in his best seafaring manner.  Thar she blows!
 There what blows? asked Mike, annoyed. He sat up suddenly, eyes wide, and
pointed to the limp sail.  Nothing blows! Nothing! Rudy, we ve lost the wind.
What are we going to do? We re only a third of the way across.
 It doesin t matter, said Rudy confidently.  We ve got a long time until
reveille. After last night the clones won t want the prisoners up until eight
or nine. The current will take us the rest of the way by then.
 I don t know, said Mike anxiously.  Maybe we should start rowing.
 Go right ahead, invited Rudy.  I m going to sit back, relax and let the
current do the work.
 Well, I guess you re right, Mike conceded.  For a little while anyway, until
we see how things go.
The two boys reclined in the becalmed sailboat. Tiny waves lapped against the
hull and the small craft drifted aimlessly. Soon Rudy and Mike were fast
asleep.
* * *
A sudden jar and an odd scraping sound brought Mike Webster to awareness.
 Hey, we re here! We re here! Rudy, wake up! We made it!
Rudy snapped to attention. It was still dark a little past five according to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]