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Authors: Enid Blyton
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some beauties," he said. "Kiki was awfully useful to me. I got her to parade up and down, so that all the birds stayed still in amazement, watching her — and then, click! I got them beautifully. I ought to have some fine pictures."
"Good!" said Bill, smiling at the enthusiastic boy. "You'll have to have a book of bird photographs published. 'Masterpieces, by Jack Trent, price thirty shillings,' "
"I'd like that," said Jack, his face shining. "Not the thirty shillings I mean — but having a book about birds with my name on it."
"Come on in," said Philip impatiently, for Jack was still outside the boat. "We want to be off. It's so warm I'm longing to get out to sea again, and feel the breeze on my face as the boat swings along."
They soon felt it and were glad of it. It certainly was very hot for May. The boat went swiftly through the water, bobbing a little as it rode over the waves. Lucy-Ann let her fingers run through the water again — lovely and cool!
"What I should like is a bathe," said Philip, little drops of perspiration appearing round his nose. "Can we bathe from the boat, Bill?"
"Wait till we get to another island," said Bill. "I don't particularly want to stop out at sea, with a storm in the offing. It's so jolly hot I feel there must be thunder about. I'm anxious to run for shelter before it comes. Now — here are more islands bobbing up out of the sea. Let's see if we can spot a puffin island. That's what you want, isn't it?"
Lucy-Ann, still dangling her hand in the water, suddenly felt something gently touching it. In surprise she looked down, withdrawing her hand at once, afraid of a jellyfish.
To her astonishment she saw that it was a piece of orange peel, bobbing away on the waves. She called to Bill.
"Bill, look — there's a bit of orange peel. Now whoever in the world eats oranges in these wild little islands? Do you suppose there ate any other bird-lovers somewhere about?"
Everyone looked at the tiny bit of orange peel bobbing rapidly away. It did seem very much out of place there. Bill stared at it hard. He was puzzled. The fishermen, if there were any on the islands they were coming to, would not be at all likely to have oranges. And naturalists surely would not bother to load themselves up with them.
Then how did that bit of peel come to be there? No ships went anywhere near where they were. It was a wild and lonely part of the sea, where sudden storms blew up, and great gales made enormous waves.
"Beats me!" said Bill at last. "I shall expect to see a pineapple or something next! Now look! — here is an island — fairly flattish — probably has puffins on it all right. Shall we make for it?"
"No — cruise round a bit," begged Jack. "Let's have a look at a few of the islands here. There is quite a colony of them round about."
They cruised round, looking at first this island and then that. They came to one that had steep cliffs at the east side, then ran down into a kind of valley, then up again into cliffs.
Jack put his glasses to his eyes and yelled out excitedly. "Puffins! Plenty of them! Can you see them, Philip? I bet the island is full of their burrows. Let's land here, Bill. There'll be masses of birds on the cliffs, and hundreds of puffins inland. It's quite a big island. We could probably find good shelter here and water too. The cliffs would protect us from both the east and the west. What ho, for Puffin Island!"
"Right," said Bill. He looked all round and about, as he guided the boat towards the island. There were many other islands not far off, but as far as he could see they were inhabited only by birds. The sea chopped about between the islands, making little rippling waves.
Round Puffin Island went the boat, and Philip gave a shout. "Here's a fine place to put the boat in, Bill — see, where that channel of water goes into a cleft of the cliff! It'll be deep there, and we can just tie the boat up
"Good!" said Bill, smiling at the enthusiastic boy. "You'll have to have a book of bird photographs published. 'Masterpieces, by Jack Trent, price thirty shillings,' "
"I'd like that," said Jack, his face shining. "Not the thirty shillings I mean — but having a book about birds with my name on it."
"Come on in," said Philip impatiently, for Jack was still outside the boat. "We want to be off. It's so warm I'm longing to get out to sea again, and feel the breeze on my face as the boat swings along."
They soon felt it and were glad of it. It certainly was very hot for May. The boat went swiftly through the water, bobbing a little as it rode over the waves. Lucy-Ann let her fingers run through the water again — lovely and cool!
"What I should like is a bathe," said Philip, little drops of perspiration appearing round his nose. "Can we bathe from the boat, Bill?"
"Wait till we get to another island," said Bill. "I don't particularly want to stop out at sea, with a storm in the offing. It's so jolly hot I feel there must be thunder about. I'm anxious to run for shelter before it comes. Now — here are more islands bobbing up out of the sea. Let's see if we can spot a puffin island. That's what you want, isn't it?"
Lucy-Ann, still dangling her hand in the water, suddenly felt something gently touching it. In surprise she looked down, withdrawing her hand at once, afraid of a jellyfish.
To her astonishment she saw that it was a piece of orange peel, bobbing away on the waves. She called to Bill.
"Bill, look — there's a bit of orange peel. Now whoever in the world eats oranges in these wild little islands? Do you suppose there ate any other bird-lovers somewhere about?"
Everyone looked at the tiny bit of orange peel bobbing rapidly away. It did seem very much out of place there. Bill stared at it hard. He was puzzled. The fishermen, if there were any on the islands they were coming to, would not be at all likely to have oranges. And naturalists surely would not bother to load themselves up with them.
Then how did that bit of peel come to be there? No ships went anywhere near where they were. It was a wild and lonely part of the sea, where sudden storms blew up, and great gales made enormous waves.
"Beats me!" said Bill at last. "I shall expect to see a pineapple or something next! Now look! — here is an island — fairly flattish — probably has puffins on it all right. Shall we make for it?"
"No — cruise round a bit," begged Jack. "Let's have a look at a few of the islands here. There is quite a colony of them round about."
They cruised round, looking at first this island and then that. They came to one that had steep cliffs at the east side, then ran down into a kind of valley, then up again into cliffs.
Jack put his glasses to his eyes and yelled out excitedly. "Puffins! Plenty of them! Can you see them, Philip? I bet the island is full of their burrows. Let's land here, Bill. There'll be masses of birds on the cliffs, and hundreds of puffins inland. It's quite a big island. We could probably find good shelter here and water too. The cliffs would protect us from both the east and the west. What ho, for Puffin Island!"
"Right," said Bill. He looked all round and about, as he guided the boat towards the island. There were many other islands not far off, but as far as he could see they were inhabited only by birds. The sea chopped about between the islands, making little rippling waves.
Round Puffin Island went the boat, and Philip gave a shout. "Here's a fine place to put the boat in, Bill — see, where that channel of water goes into a cleft of the cliff! It'll be deep there, and we can just tie the boat up
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