Read Online The Return of the Indian by Lynne Reid Banks - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lynne Reid Banks
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me!” finished Boone. “That’s a great idee, thanks a lot. Things is tough and dangerous enough whur Ah come from, Ah mean,
when
Ah come from, without goin’ back a hundred years t’ when thingswuz ten times worse. Come t’ that … what’s stoppin’
you
from lendin’ a hand t’ the redskins if’n yer s’ crazy about ’em?”
Patrick and Omri looked at each other, startled.
“We can’t go back!” Patrick exclaimed. “How could we? We can’t fit into the cupboard!”
Boone looked at them, looked consideringly at the small bathroom cabinet, less than a foot high, and then back at the boys again.
“That’s true,” he said grudgingly. “Ah reckon Ah cain’t argue ’bout that. But thur’s still a way Ah kin think of, that ya could help ’em, ifn you’d a mind ter.”
“How?” they asked at once.
“What’s that, down over yonder? It’s s’ danged far away, Ah cain’t see properly, but it looks to me like a whole bunch o’ folks layin’ in a heap in a box.”
The boys looked where he was pointing. Down on the floor was the biscuit tin full of Omri’s collection of plastic figures. He’d gone up to the loft that morning to fetch it. Now he lifted it and put it on the chest, the top of which was now getting rather crowded.
“Lift me up and lemme look,” ordered the little man.
Patrick put his hand down close to him. Boone heaved himself on to it as if he were scrambling on to a horse without a saddle. Patrick “flew” him over the box. He lay down flat and peered over the side of Patrick’s hand, hanging on to his precious hat.
“Lookit that! Whatcha think ya got down there, if’n it ain’t all kindsa men with all kindsa shootin’ irons? If’n you could stick ’em all in the cupboard and bring ’em to life and then send ’em back with the Injuns, they’d come out th’ other end and send them Frenchies scooting back to France as fast as greased lightnin’!”
Omri and Patrick looked at each other.
“Would it work?” breathed Patrick, his eyes alight.
Omri could see that it was not just the possibility of helping the Indians that was getting him excited. From the very beginning, Patrick had wanted to experiment with the cupboard. Omri had barely been able to prevent him from stuffing dozens of soldiers in, bringing whole armies to life and making them fight … This looked like just the excuse he’d been wanting.
The idea had a strong appeal for Omri, too. But he was more cautious.
“We’d have to think about it,” he said.
Patrick almost slammed his hand, with Boone on it, down again on the chest.
“You’re always
thinking!”
he said disgustedly. “Why don’t we just try it?”
Omri was frowning, trying to imagine. “Listen.” He picked up a knight in chain mail with a big helmet and a shield with a red cross on a white ground. “If we put this one in, for instance, he’d come to us from the time of Richard the First. He wouldn’t know a thing about Indians. He’d want to go off to Palestine and kill Saracens.” He put the knight down and picked up a soldier in a flat cap and khaki shorts. “This one’s a French Foreign Legionnaire. We couldn’t even talk to him. Let alone to an Arab tribesman or a Russian Cossack. They were great fighters, but they wouldn’t just agree to be in an army fighting Frenchmen in America on the side of the Indians. They’re not
toys.
Every one of them’s a person—I mean, if we brought them to life. We’d have to explain everything, half of them wouldn’t believe it, others might think they’d gone crazy—”
But Patrick interrupted in high impatience. “Oh, what are you on about? Who’s talking about soldiers with swords and axes and old-fashioned popguns? What about
these?”
He dug his hand into the tin and came up with a fistful of British soldiers. Some had self-loading rifles, others had submachine guns. There was a howitzer, a 37-mm.antitank gun, three rocket launchers, and a variety of grenades.
when
Ah come from, without goin’ back a hundred years t’ when thingswuz ten times worse. Come t’ that … what’s stoppin’
you
from lendin’ a hand t’ the redskins if’n yer s’ crazy about ’em?”
Patrick and Omri looked at each other, startled.
“We can’t go back!” Patrick exclaimed. “How could we? We can’t fit into the cupboard!”
Boone looked at them, looked consideringly at the small bathroom cabinet, less than a foot high, and then back at the boys again.
“That’s true,” he said grudgingly. “Ah reckon Ah cain’t argue ’bout that. But thur’s still a way Ah kin think of, that ya could help ’em, ifn you’d a mind ter.”
“How?” they asked at once.
“What’s that, down over yonder? It’s s’ danged far away, Ah cain’t see properly, but it looks to me like a whole bunch o’ folks layin’ in a heap in a box.”
The boys looked where he was pointing. Down on the floor was the biscuit tin full of Omri’s collection of plastic figures. He’d gone up to the loft that morning to fetch it. Now he lifted it and put it on the chest, the top of which was now getting rather crowded.
“Lift me up and lemme look,” ordered the little man.
Patrick put his hand down close to him. Boone heaved himself on to it as if he were scrambling on to a horse without a saddle. Patrick “flew” him over the box. He lay down flat and peered over the side of Patrick’s hand, hanging on to his precious hat.
“Lookit that! Whatcha think ya got down there, if’n it ain’t all kindsa men with all kindsa shootin’ irons? If’n you could stick ’em all in the cupboard and bring ’em to life and then send ’em back with the Injuns, they’d come out th’ other end and send them Frenchies scooting back to France as fast as greased lightnin’!”
Omri and Patrick looked at each other.
“Would it work?” breathed Patrick, his eyes alight.
Omri could see that it was not just the possibility of helping the Indians that was getting him excited. From the very beginning, Patrick had wanted to experiment with the cupboard. Omri had barely been able to prevent him from stuffing dozens of soldiers in, bringing whole armies to life and making them fight … This looked like just the excuse he’d been wanting.
The idea had a strong appeal for Omri, too. But he was more cautious.
“We’d have to think about it,” he said.
Patrick almost slammed his hand, with Boone on it, down again on the chest.
“You’re always
thinking!”
he said disgustedly. “Why don’t we just try it?”
Omri was frowning, trying to imagine. “Listen.” He picked up a knight in chain mail with a big helmet and a shield with a red cross on a white ground. “If we put this one in, for instance, he’d come to us from the time of Richard the First. He wouldn’t know a thing about Indians. He’d want to go off to Palestine and kill Saracens.” He put the knight down and picked up a soldier in a flat cap and khaki shorts. “This one’s a French Foreign Legionnaire. We couldn’t even talk to him. Let alone to an Arab tribesman or a Russian Cossack. They were great fighters, but they wouldn’t just agree to be in an army fighting Frenchmen in America on the side of the Indians. They’re not
toys.
Every one of them’s a person—I mean, if we brought them to life. We’d have to explain everything, half of them wouldn’t believe it, others might think they’d gone crazy—”
But Patrick interrupted in high impatience. “Oh, what are you on about? Who’s talking about soldiers with swords and axes and old-fashioned popguns? What about
these?”
He dug his hand into the tin and came up with a fistful of British soldiers. Some had self-loading rifles, others had submachine guns. There was a howitzer, a 37-mm.antitank gun, three rocket launchers, and a variety of grenades.
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