THE CARAVAN

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 62, 4 June 1927, Page 27 (Supplement)

THE CARAVAN

Dick and Bunchy lived in the country. There was a nice orchard belonging to their home, and in the orchard lived the grey donkey, “Solomon,” that j drew the dear little chaise in which the children often rode. There were also a number of brown-speckled hens in the* orchard, and they sl< pt in what is known as a “portable . nhouse”—that is, a hen-house on wheels, that can be moved about at will. It was this hen-house that seemed to be taking a great deal of Dick’s attention, one fine morning, last summer. “I say, Bunchy,” he observed, suddenly, “wouldn't you lov I’ve been thinking, and thinking, and I believe we could harness Solomon to that”—he nodded at the hen 7 house. “It would make a ripping caravan!” Bunchy skipped round in delight. “Oh, Dick! Could we really go away by ourselves —just we two? 'But what about food? I’ve only fivepence in my money-box, and I don’t believe you've much more!” “Oh, we can manage somehow,” answered Dick. “We shall have to get some food together every day. and hide it till we are ready to start.” And thus it was that each day such small items as eggs, tins of sardines, jars of potted meat, jam, cakes, biscuits, slices of pie, etc., vanished mysteriously from the larder, and found their way into an old disused trunk in the sum-mer-house. The children also remembered to secrete a fair number of carrots for Solomon’s benefit. Dick and Bunchy decided that they we After about a week’s preparation, Dick and Bunchy decided that thev were quite ready for the adventure, and would start the first morning they woke early enough. Tl*e following morning Dick sat up in bod just ns the sky was getting beautifully pink in the east. “Bunchy, it’s four* o’clock! Let’s make a start this morning!” said the little boy in an excited whisper. Soon the children were dressed and creeping quietly downstairs. They let themselves out of the back door, and hurried with cautious footsteps through the garden. The first thing to do was to let the hens out of their abode, and then they quickly removed the perches and swept out the “caravan.” Then, after carrying in the accumulated provisions, they released Solomon from his little stable, and managed, with the aid of his harness and a clotlies-line. to attach him to. the caravan. There was a big door at one end of it, and having fixed this open, and placed inside a small garden chair and a stool, the children squeezed themselves in side by side, and drove off in fine style. “Where are we going?” asked Bunchy.

Curiously enough, this knotty point had not been discussed; perhaps, because their geography outside the village was very vague. “Oh, we’ll go just where the road takes us,” answered Dick, comfortably, “and when there are two roads we’ll choose the pretty one.”

They jolted along in their queer conveyance happily enough, and they had the road practically to themselves at that early hour. After they had travelled some distance the road divided into three, the main road (which they wished to avoid), a narrow road, and a mere cart-track, which led off to the left across an open common. Before the children could make up their minds which of the two latter roads to follow Solomon decided the matter for them, and set off at a gallop across the common, until he finally came to an abrupt halt by a clump of thistles. “L—let’s stop here!” gasped Bunchy.

After having fed Solomon with carrots and later had some breakfast they proceeded on their tour in good spirits once more. They had not the slightest idea where the lonely road across the common led to, but Solomon had given them no choice in the matter, so on they went, till the worthy animal called another halt.

“The sun doesn’t seem so bright now,” remarked Bunchy. “No; but I expect it will shine again presently,” answered Dick, hopefully. But they both noticed that far behind them, in the direction of home, black, inky clouds were rolling up and obscuring the blue sky. “There’s going to be a storm! ” cried Bunchy, who was afraid of thunder. “Let’s go back to that cottage we passed a little while ago and shelter.” “I didn’t see any cottage,” answered Dickr “but I suppose there was one, if you say so.” “Yes, of course! Oh, Dick! The clouds are coming up so quickly!” “Very well,” agreed Dick, who secretly didn’t like storms much himself. “We’ll turn Solomon round and make for shelter.” This they proceeded to do, and the donkey started off at a good pace. Soon they came in sight of the desired haven —a tiny one-storey cottage—and just at that moment a bright flash of light- ; ning lit up the dark sky, followed almost immediately by a heavy clap of thunder. Bunchy screamed, and Solomon, who evidently didn’t like it either, broke into a gallop. Close to the cottage Dick tried to pull him up, but in vain—on and on he went, faster and faster. The rain began to fall in huge spots, and then in a perfect deluge, and flash after flash of lightning lit up the sky. The terrified children crouched down in the “caravan,” Dick still hanging on to the reins but the rain beat in and dfenched them as Solomon continued his mad gallop in the direction of home. Every minute the storm seemed to increase in violence, and the two children huddled together, Dick too frightened to speak, and poor Bunchy sobbing bitterly. At length the storm abated, and the sun broke through the clouds again, looking down on the sodden earth: and Solomon, getting tired, slackened his pace to a dignified stroll. Still, lie dici not stop again, but kept steadily on, till after what seemed like hours to the miserable pair in the caravan the red-roof of home came in sight. As the extraordinary cavalcade approached a search party, consisting of father, the “odd man,” and a dog, were just starting out for the second time. Dick and Bunchy were promptly undressed and put to bed for the rest of the day. Next morning they awoke rather late, but as fresh and full of mischief as ever: but, fortunately, none the worse for their exciting caravan : tour.

TWO SMILES Mary was helping her mother to get the dinner ready. “Why, just look. Mary,” said her mother, “you have left all the eyes in the potatoes you have peeled.” “That is so they c m see when the water is boiling,” explained Mary. Willie: I say, Tommy, if you can I guess how many apples I have in my I pocket you cun have both of them. —Sent in by Beryl Arthur.