Five Have a Wonderful Time (10 page)

Alfredo opened his mouth, and flames rushed out of it, gushing like a fiery waterfall. What with the other torch flaring in his left hand, the burning petrol in the bowl, the torch in his right hand and the flames from his mouth, it really was an extraordinary scene!

He did the same with the other torch, and once more his cheeks glowed like a lamp. Then fire came from his mouth again, and was blown this way and that by the night breeze.

Alfredo closed his mouth. He swallowed. Then he looked round, opened his mouth to show that he no longer had any flames there, and smiled broadly.

"Ah — you like to see me eat fire?" he said, and put out his torches. The bowl was no longer flaming, and now only the fire-light lit the scene.

"It's marvellous," said Julian, with great admiration. "But don't you burn your mouth?"

"What, me? No, never!" laughed Alfredo. "At first maybe, yes — when I begin years and years ago. But now, no. It would be a shameful thing to burn my mouth — I would hang my head, and go away."

"But — how is it you
don't
burn your mouth?" asked Dick, puzzled.

Alfredo refused to give any explanation. That was part of the mystery of his act and he wasn't going to give it away.

"
I
can fire-eat too," announced Jo, casually and most unexpectedly. "Here, Uncle, let me have one of your torches."

"You! You will do nothing of the sort!" roared Alfredo. "Do you want to burn to bits?"

"No. And I shan't either," said Jo. "I've watched you and I know just how it's done. I've tried it."

"Fibber!" said George at once.

"Now you listen to me," began Alfredo again. "If you fire-eat I will whip you till you beg me for mercy. I will…"

"Now, Fredo," said his wife, "you'll do nothing of the sort. I'll deal with Jo if she starts any nonsense here.

As for fire-eating — well, if there's to be anyone else fire-eating here,
I
will do it, I, your wife."

"You will
not
fire-eat," said Alfredo obstinately, evidently afraid that his hot-tempered little wife might try to do it.

Anne suddenly gave a scream of fright. A long, thick body glided between her and Julian — one of the snake-man's pythons! He had brought one with him, and the children hadn't known. Jo caught hold of it and held on for dear life.

"Let him be," said the snake-man. "He will come back to me. He wants a run."

"Let me hold him for a bit," begged Jo. "He feels so smooth and cold. I like snakes."

Julian put out his hand gingerly and touched the great snake. It did feel unexpectedly smooth, and quite cool.

How extraordinary! It looked so scaly and rough.

The snake slithered all the way up Jo and then began to pour itself down her back. "Now don't you let him get his tail round you," warned the snake-man. "I've told you that before."

"I'll wear him round my neck," said Jo, and proceeded to pull the snake's long body until in the end he hung round her neck like a fur. George watched in unwilling admiration. Anne had removed herself as far from Jo as possible. The boys gazed in astonishment, and felt a new respect for the little gypsy girl.

Someone struck up a soft melody on a guitar. It was Skippy,

Bufflo's wife. She hummed a sad little song that had a gay little chorus in which all the fair-folk joined. Practically all the camp had come along now, and there were quite a few the children

hadn't seen before.

It was exciting sitting there round the glowing fire, listening to the thrum of the guitar, and the sound of Skippy's low, clear voice

— sitting near a fire-eater too, and within arm's length of a snake who also seemed to be enjoying the music! He swayed about in

time to the chorus, and then suddenly poured himself all down the front of Jo, and glided like magic to his master, the snake-man.

"Ah, my beauty," said the funny little man, and let the python slide between his hands, its coils pulsing powerfully as it went.

"You like the music, my beauty?"

"He really loves his snake," whispered Anne to George. "How can he?"

Alfredo's wife got up. "It is time to go," she told the audience. "Alfredo needs his supper. Is it not so, my big bad man?"

Alfredo agreed that it was so. He placed the heavy iron pot over the glowing fire again, and in a few seconds such a glorious smell came from it that all the five children began to sniff expectantly.

"Where's Timmy?" said George, suddenly. He was nowhere to be seen!

"He crept away with his tail down when he saw the snake," said Jo. "I saw him go. Timmy, come back! It's all right! Timmy, Timmy!"

"I'll call him, thank you," said George. "He's
my
dog. Timmy!"

Timmy came, his tail still down. George fondled him and so did Jo. He licked them both in turn. George tried to drag him away from Jo. She didn't like Timmy to show affection for the little gypsy girl — but he always did! He loved her.

The supper was lovely. "
What
is in your pot?" asked Dick, accepting a second helping. "I've never tasted such a delicious stew in my life."

"Chicken, duck, beef, bacon, rabbit, hare, hedgehog, onions, turnips…" began Alfredo's wife. "I put there everything that comes. It cooks and I stir, it cooks and I stir. Perhaps a partridge goes in one day, and a pheasant the next, and…"

"Hold your tongue, wife," growled Alfredo, who knew quite well that the farmers round about might well ask questions about some of the things in that stew.

"You tell me to hold my tongue!" cried little Mrs. Alfredo angrily, flourishing a spoon. "You tell me that!"

"Woof," said Timmy, receiving some nice tasty drops on his nose, and licking them off. "Woof!" He got up and went towards the spoon, hoping for a few more.

"Oh, Aunt Nita, do give Timmy a spoonful out of the stew," begged Jo, and to Timmy's great joy he got a big plateful all to himself. He could hardly believe it!

"Thank you very much for a very nice supper," said Julian, feeling that it really was time to go. He got up and the others followed his example.

"And thank you for fire-eating for us, Alfredo," said George. "It doesn't seem to have spoilt your appetite!"

"Poof!" said Alfredo, as if such a thing would never enter his head. "Jo — are you going to stay with us again tonight? You are welcome."

"I'd just like an old rug, that's all, Aunt Nita," said Jo. "I'm going to sleep under George's caravan."

"You can sleep on the floor inside, if you like," said George. But Jo shook her head.

"No. I've had enough of sleeping indoors for a bit. I want to sleep out. Under the caravan will be a fine place for me. Gypsies often sleep there when the weather is warm."

They went back over the dark hillside. A few stars were out, but the moon was not yet up, "That was a jolly interesting evening," said Dick. "I enjoyed it. I like your aunt and uncle, Jo."

Jo was delighted. She always loved praise from Dick. She went under the girls' caravan, and rolled herself up in the rug. She had been taught to clean her teeth and wash and do her hair, by the foster-mother she had lived with for some months — but all that was forgotten now that she was leading a gypsy life again!

"In a day or two she'll be the filthy, dirty, tangly-haired, rude girl she was when we first knew her," said George, combing out her own hair extra well. "I'm glad we're going to stay here after all, aren't you, Anne? I really do think the fair people are friendly towards us now."

"Thanks to Jo," said Anne. George said nothing. She didn't like being under obligation to Jo! She finished preparing herself for bed and got into her bunk.

"I wish
we'd
seen that face at the window, don't you, Anne?" she said. "I do wonder whose it was — and why it was there, looking out."

"I don't think I want to talk about faces at windows just now," said Anne, getting into her bunk. "Let's change the subject." She blew out the lamp and settled down. They talked for a few minutes, and then George heard something outside the caravan. What could it be? Timmy raised his head and gave a little growl.

George looked at the window opposite. A lone star shone through it — and then something came in front of the star, blotted it out, and pressed itself against the glass pane. Timmy growled again, but not very loudly. Was it someone he knew?

George flashed on her torch, and immediately saw what it was. She gave a little giggle. Then she called to Anne.

"Anne! Anne! Quick, there's a face at the window. Anne, wake up!"

"I'm not asleep," said Anne's voice, and she sat up, scared. "What face? Where? You're not just frightening me, are you?"

"No — there it is, look!" said George and shone her torch at the window. A big, long, dark-brown face looked in, and Anne gave a shriek. Then she laughed. "You beast, George — it's only Alfredo's horse. Oh, you
did
give me a fright. I've a good mind to pull you out of your bunk on to the floor. Go away, you silly staring horse — shoo, go away!"

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NEXT morning, as they had breakfast, the children discussed the face at the castle window again. They had levelled the field-glasses time and again at the window, but there was nothing to be seen.

"Let's go and see over the castle as soon as it opens," said Dick. "But mind — nobody is to mention faces at windows — you hear me, Jo? You're the one who can't keep your tongue still sometimes."

Jo flared up. "I'm not! I can keep a secret!"

"All right, fire-eater," said Dick with a grin. He looked at his watch. "It's too soon to go yet."

"I'll go and help Mr. Slither with his snakes," said Jo. "Anyone else coming?"

"Mr. Slither! What a marvellous name for a man who keeps snakes," said Dick. "I don't mind coming to watch, but I'm not keen on the way they pour themselves up and down people."

They all went to Mr. Slither's caravan except Anne, who said she would much rather clear up the breakfast things.

The snake-man had both his snakes out of their box. "He
is
polishing them," said George, sitting down near by. "See how he makes their brown bodies shine."

"Here, Jo — you mop Beauty for me," said Mr. Slither. "The stuff is in that bottle Over there. He's got those nasty little mites again under his scales. Mop him with that stuff and that will soon get rid of them."

Jo seemed to know what to do. She got a rag, tipped up the bottle of yellow stuff and began to pat one of the snakes gently, letting the lotion soak round his scales.

George, not to be outdone, offered to help in the polishing of the other snake. "You hold him then," said Mr.

Slither, and slid the snake over to George. He got up and went into his caravan. George hadn't quite bargained for this. The snake lay across her knees, and then began to wind round her body. "Don't you let him get a hold of you with his tail," Jo warned her.

The boys soon got tired of seeing Jo and George vying with one another over the pythons, and went off to where Bufflo was practising spinning rope-rings. He spun loop after loop of rope, making wonderful patterns in the air with it. He grinned at the boys.

"Like a try?" he said. But neither of them could do anything with the rope at all.

"Let's see you snap off something with the whip-lash," said Dick. "I think you're a marvel at that."

"What do you want me to hit?" asked Bufflo, picking up his magnificent whip. "The topmost leaves on that bush?"

"Yes," said Dick. Bufflo looked at them, swung his whip once or twice, lifted it — and cracked it.

Like magic the topmost leaves disappeared off the bush. The boys gazed in admiration. "Now pick off that daisy-head over there," said Julian, pointing.

Crack! The daisy-head vanished. "That's easy," said Bufflo. "Look, you hold a pencil or something in your hands, one of you. I'll pick it out without touching your fingers!"

Julian hesitated. But Dick dived his hand into his pocket and brought out a red pencil, not very long. He held out his hand, with the pencil between finger and thumb. Bufflo looked at it with half-closed eyes, as if measuring the distance. He raised his whip.

Crack! The tip-end of the lash curled itself round the pencil and pulled it clean out of Dick's hand. It flew up into the air, and Bufno reached out his hand and caught it!

"Jolly good," said Dick, lost in admiration. "Does it take long to learn a thing like that?"

"Matter of twenty years or so," said Bufflo. "But you want to begin when you're a nipper — about three years old, say. My Pa taught me — and if I didn't learn fast enough he'd take the skin off the tips of my ears with his whiplash! You soon learn if you know that's going to happen to you!"

The boys gazed at Bufflo's big ears. They certainly did look a bit rough at the edges!

"I throw knives too," said Bufflo, basking in the boys' admiration. "I put Skippy up against a board, and throw knives all round her — so that when she walks away from the board at the end, there's her shape all outlined in knives. Like to see me?"

"Well, no, not now," said Julian, looking at his watch. "We're going to see over the castle. Have you ever seen over it, Bufflo?"