Stig of the Dump Read online

  He could see ploughed fields with a tractor crawling over the bare earth pulling a harrow. He could see black and white cows on the pasture. He could see chicken houses, and those very very small bits of yellow like grains of sand running about must be baby chicks. He could see a big black car coming along the lane towards the house.

  That was funny – it had stopped and pulled off the road into the copse near the chalk pit.

  He could see two men get out and walk towards the house. They wore dark hats and mackintoshes, and didn’t look like country people. Had he seen them before?

  Yes, he had! They had come to the door once before and he had answered the door-bell. They had asked him if his Grandmother had got any silver or jewels to sell and he had told them that of course Grandmother had lots of silver and jewels but he didn’t think she would want to sell them as she’d got some money already. And then Grandmother had come out and told them she didn’t want to sell anything thank you and if she did she wouldn’t sell it on the doorstep, and she had seemed quite cross. And now the men were coming back again. Well, there was nobody at home and he was going to stay in his tree.

  One of the men stayed in the lane and the other went and knocked on the door. Of course nobody answered. The man knocked again and waited a long time. Then he went round to the back door and tried that. It was not locked. The man looked about him, opened the door, and went in.

  Barney’s heart fluttered and his legs felt funny as if he had nearly fallen off his branch, though he was clinging on with all his might. That man had gone into Granny’s house when he shouldn’t have. He must be a thief! He would take all the silver and drive off with it in his car! And Barney was all alone up in the tree, and though he could see the countryside for miles around he couldn’t see a human being except the tractor driver, fields and fields away. There was no one who could help in time.

  Yes there was!

  Barney started climbing down, trying not to be too shaky and excited. He had to go down the side of the tree that was away from the house, so that he wouldn’t be seen, and the best hand-holds and foot-holds were on the house side. Barney slipped and slithered the last bit and landed among the bushy twigs that grew out of the bottom of the trunk. He crouched there for a few moments, hoping he had not made too much noise, then he crawled out and ran as hard as he could across the paddock towards the copse. He scrambled over the fence and lay among the brambles there, panting and looking towards the house. He could see no signs of anyone coming after him, so he got up and plunged through the copse. Look out, bluebells and primroses! he thought, I’m in a hurry!

  By the time he had got down into the pit, and along the bottom to Stig’s cave, he was quite out of breath.

  Stig was there all right. There was a strong smell coming from something gluey he was melting on the fire. He was sticking arrowheads on to their shafts and binding them with catgut which he was taking from a broken old tennis racket. He looked all ready for the spring hunting season.

  ‘Stig!’ puffed Barney. ‘Thank goodness you’re here! You’ve got to help! A man’s got into Granny’s house and I’m sure he’s a thief and he’ll take all the silver and jewels and even my money box if he finds it and it’s got three and threepence in it. What are we going to do, Stig?’

  Stig just grinned in a friendly way and Barney began to feel hopeless. It was just like when he was trying to explain about Stig to the grownups – they just smiled and said ‘Really?’ And of course Stig didn’t speak English. He didn’t talk at all much. But he must make him understand.

  ‘Enemy!’ said Barney fiercely, pointing towards the top of the cliff. ‘Bad men!’ he said, screwing up his face to look wicked. ‘Fight ‘em Stig, shoot ‘em, see ‘em off Stig,’ he urged, making bow-and-arrow movements and spear movements with his arms.

  Stig seemed to get the idea. He grinned more than ever and scowled horribly at the same time. Barney looked around for weapons. Leaning against the wall were a new-looking bow and the arrows Stig had been making, some spears, an axe, and the horrible-looking club. Barney picked up the bow and arrows and handed them to Stig, but Stig gave them back to him and took the club instead.

  ‘Can I really have the bowanarrows, Stig?’ exclaimed Barney. ‘Gosh, thanks! Come on, we’ve got to be quick!’

  They ran out of the far end of the pit and instead of turning right and coming back through the copse to the garden Barney led the way round into the lane and up the hill towards the house. There at the top, where the lane passed near the chalk cliff and there was a gap where lorries backed off the road to dump things over the cliff, they found the big black car parked. And there, coming along the lane, were the two men in raincoats and dark hats, carrying a large suitcase each.

  Without thinking, Barney fitted an arrow into the bow and shot it. A dark city hat flipped off the head of one of the men and was pinned to the bank of the lane by a flint-tipped arrow. The men stopped. Then they saw Barney.

  ‘Now then, kid!’ said the man. ‘Cut it out! That’s dangerous, playin’ wiv bows and arrers!’

  ‘You’re thieves!’ said Barney. ‘I know, you’ve got Granny’s silver in that suitcase!’

  The man looked at his companion. ‘’Ear that?’ he said. ‘The kid thinks we’re thieves. Look, sonny, we come to look at your Granny’s television, didn’t we, Sidney? We got our tools in these ‘ere cases, ‘aven’t we, Sidney?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Sidney.

  ‘Plucky little nipper though, ain’t e’, Sidney? Lookin’ after ‘is Granny’s ‘ouse while she’s away, eh sonny? I got some toffees for you in the car.’

  ‘I don’t like toffees,’ said Barney. But he was beginning to feel foolish, and he lowered his bow, which he was pointing at the man with another arrow fitted.

  The man turned round for his hat, which had the arrow stuck through it. He pulled the arrow out, then he looked at the sharp flint tip and his face went white.

  ‘You little ‘orror!’ he snarled at Barney. ‘Where’d you get them things from, eh? You know you might ‘ave killed me?’ He broke the arrow across twice and threw the pieces angrily on the ground. ‘Come on!’ he said. ‘’And hand over the rest of them things! or there’ll be trouble!’ He came towards Barney with a very nasty expression on his face.

  Stig had been lurking behind the car, listening to the strange talking and wondering what it was all about. When he saw the man break his precious arrow and come angrily towards Barney it was enough for him. He let out a sound that was something between a growl and a howl and dashed at the man, raising his horrible club. The two men took one look at this wild figure, dropped their suitcases, and ran, with Stig in mad pursuit and Barney running after Stig.

  ‘Stig! Stig! Come back!’ shouted Barney. ‘It’s all a mistake. They’re not bad men! They’re not thieves, they came to mend the television!’ But it was no use. What did Stig know about television?

  There was a barbed-wire fence at the top of the lane and the men decided to get over it in the hope of escaping from Stig. As the second one scrambled over, his raincoat got caught in the wire. In a panic, he struggled out of the coat and ran off over the field, leaving it on the fence. It was this that saved him from the teeth of Stig’s club, because Stig stopped to look at the coat, as if he was not quite sure what part of himself the man had left behind. Barney caught up with him and took hold of his arm.

  ‘Stig! Stig! You mustn’t chase those men,’ Barney panted. ‘I thought they were thieves but they’re not. They might tell a policeman and then there’ll be awful trouble.’

  But Stig was looking at the coat. As he turned it about there was a tinkling sound, and a whole lot of shining things fell out of a pocket on to the ground. Stig pounced on them with wide-open eyes, picked them up and admired them, turning them to the light.

  ‘No, Stig,’ said Barney. ‘You can’t have them. They’re only the man’s teaspoons. I expect he was going to have a picnic. Hey, just a minute!’

  Barney pul
led Stig by the arm. ‘Come on!’ he urged. ‘We’d better look at those suitcases.’

  They ran back down the lane to where the suitcases were lying. Barney opened one of them.

  ‘Golly!’ he exclaimed. All Granny’s spoons and forks and ladles and things, her jewels and trinkets from her dressing table, one pair of cuff-links belonging to Grandfather, and his own money-box! He shook the money-box. Did it still sound like three shillings and threepence?

  So they were thieves after all! What should he do now? They might come back to their big black car any time and drive away. How could he stop them? He ran to the car, opened the rear door, and looked inside. Under some sacks were more suitcases and bags that clanked when he felt them. Loot from other people’s houses!

  Barney sat in the front seat and held the steering wheel. If only he could drive he could take the car to the police. He took off the hand brake – at least he knew how to do that. The car began to roll backwards – towards the edge of the pit! In a panic, Barney opened the door and scrambled out, with the car still moving. Barney’s mouth was open and he held his middle as he watched the big black car move slowly towards the pit. There was a lurch as first one back wheel, then another, went over the edge. The car bumped down on its underneath: perhaps it would stop now. But no, the edge of the chalk crumbled, the rear of the car settled lower, the front wheels rose slowly in the air, and with a horrible scraping and grinding the whole car slid over the edge. There seemed to be quite a long time before Barney heard the crash as the car hit the bottom of the dump, but he felt too sick to look.

  When he opened his eyes he saw Stig looking over the edge of the cliff, waving and pointing and grinning all over his face as if it were some great animal they had just hunted over the cliff and he was looking forward to cutting up the meat. Then he was running off round the pit to get to the bottom.

  Barney remembered the suitcases, and hurriedly hid them deep in a bramble patch before running off after Stig again. By the time he got to the car, which was lying on its back with its wheels in the air, Stig was already hard at work skinning the leather off the seats and the carpets off the floors. Barney stood helplessly watching. Stig obviously thought that anything thrown into his dump was for him to do what he liked with. But if the men came back and found them at it they would be very angry. Then he saw what they would have to do.

  He got up on the pile of rubbish at the foot of the cliff and started throwing things on top of the dead motor-car – old wash-tubs, bedsteads, bicycle frames. Stig soon got the idea – they were burying the animal to hide it from the enemy. Before long the car was covered with bits and pieces, branches and moss.

  Then, as they worked, Stig suddenly froze into stillness, and listened. Barney listened too. There were voices coming from the top of the cliff. Barney crept into the inside of the upturned car and beckoned Stig in too. They crouched on the ceiling, looking up at the seats and pedals, and listened.

  The voices of the two men came down from the top of the cliff.

  ‘Well it ain’t there, is it? Go on, ‘ave a good look!’

  ‘All right then, it’s gone. What do we do now?’

  ‘We got a nice long walk, that’s what we’ve got, mate. Or if yer don’t like walkin’, yer can run. Yer seem to like runnin’ all right.’

  ‘’Oo likes runnin’? You run too, didn’t yer?’

  ‘You started runnin’ first. Got windy because a couple of kids was playin’ Red Indians, so we’ve lost the lot, all through you.’

  ‘I tell you they wasn’t kids. One wasn’t, anyways.’

  ‘What was it then?’

  ‘It was a Fing, I tell yer. An ‘orrible Fing. Out of that there pit I shouldn’t wonder. Come on, let’s get out of ‘ere. I tell yer I don’t like this place. I’m gettin’ back to town, if I have to walk all the way.’

  Barney smiled at Stig as the voices faded away. Stig grinned and shook his horrible club.

  Granny and Lou were back from shopping when Barney struggled in through the front gate carrying the two heavy suitcases full of silver.

  ‘Barney, what on earth have you been up to?’ Granny exclaimed.

  ‘I’ve brought your spoons and forks back, Granny. You see two men came to do the television. I mean that’s what they said, but they were thieves really and I was up the tree but me and Stig chased them away and I let their car go over into the chalk pit, and it’s there now with all the treasure in it.’

  ‘Well, you have been having fun,’ said Granny. ‘Now let’s have tea, shall we. Lay the table Lou, and Barney, go and wash your hands. Look at them!’

  Lou started laying the table. ‘Where are the teaspoons, Granny?’ she asked.

  ‘In the usual place I suppose dear,’ said Granny from the kitchen. Barney put his hand to his mouth.

  ‘No they’re not, Granny,’ he said. ‘They’re hanging on the fence in Mr Tickle’s field.’

  ‘What!’ Granny exclaimed. ‘Really, Barney, that’s naughty. You know you mustn’t take the silver for games.’

  ‘I didn’t take them, Granny,’ Barney protested. ‘It was the television man, and Stig was running after him with a club and I tried to stop him because I thought he wasn’t a thief, but he took his coat off and left it hanging on the fence and the spoons fell out. I thought he was going to have a picnic at first but then I knew they were yours. I’ll go and fetch them.’ And he ran out.

  When Barney got back there was a policeman at the door talking to Granny. She looked worried.

  ‘What’s this about thieves, sonny?’ asked the policeman.

  ‘Yes, I saw them up the tree, I mean I was, and one of them went into the house, and I went to fetch my friend Stig, and me and Stig had a fight with them and they ran away and the teaspoons fell out and the car was full of treasure.’

  The policeman scratched his head. ‘Ah now, a car, you say. Just where might this car be?’

  Barney stood on one leg. ‘Well, I thought perhaps I could drive it to the police station, but it went backwards over the cliff and Stig thought it was dead and started skinning it and then we buried it. But I couldn’t help it, I promised

  The policeman was trying to write all this down in a notebook, but when he got to the part about skinning and burying the car he stopped writing and looked hard at Barney.

  ‘You wouldn’t be making this up, would you son?’ he asked sternly.

  ‘I’m afraid my grandson has a very strong imagination,’ said Granny.

  ‘But I’m telling the truth, Granny! I promised!’ said Barney.

  ‘Perhaps the little boy would like to show me where this, er, alleged treasure is, ma’am,’ suggested the policeman.

  ‘Yes, yes!’ cried Barney. ‘It’s just down the lane. Come on!’ And he took the policeman by the hand and pulled him through the front gate, and down the lane, explaining as he went.

  ‘It’s all in the bottom of the car, the treasure. Or, well, it’s in the top of the car I suppose because the car’s upside down in the bottom of the pit.’

  He led the way to the top of the cliff where the car had gone over and pointed. ‘It’s down there,’ he said.

  The policeman looked over. ‘I can’t see nothing,’ he said.

  ‘Of course not,’ explained Barney. ‘We buried it. Come on down and see.’

  The policeman looked more and more disbelieving. ‘Look, son,’ he said. ‘There’s three houses been burgled in the district, and it’s my job to catch the thieves and get the valuables back. And I haven’t got a lot of time to waste. What about this treasure of yours?’

  ‘It’s down there,’ Barney insisted. ‘I’ll show it to you if you just come down.’

  He led the way round the top of the pit to the way in. It was getting dark now, and the policeman took an electric torch from his pocket. They clambered over the heap of rubbish, and Barney moved aside the branches that hid the door of the upturned car.

  ‘In there!’ he said.

  The policeman shone his torch
inside. There was a terrible mess of ripped leather, broken glass from the windows, scattered stuffing from the seats, and bare springs. No sign of the treasure.

  The policeman sat down on an old wash-tub and took his helmet off. He looked quite like an ordinary man.

  ‘What’s your name, son?’ he asked, quite kindly. Barney told him.

  ‘Listen to me, young Barney,’ said the policeman. ‘When I was a youngster I used to have what your Granny calls a strong imagination too. Used to play cops and robbers, and I can tell you it was a lot more exciting and a lot more fun than being a real copper, which I am now. So I’m not blaming you – understand? You imagined you had a fight with two robbers, see? You imagined this bit of old junk what’s been here for years was a car that went over the

  cliff. Isn’t that it? You wasn’t telling lies, because you thought it was true. But that’s it, isn’t it? It never really happened, eh?’

  Barney stood there dumbly. If a grown-up said so, and such a kind grown-up, and a policeman too, perhaps you could imagine fights with robbers and cars going over cliffs. Perhaps he just imagined Stig. He was looking miserably into the darkness of the pit and was just about to nod his head and agree with all the policeman was saying when he saw in the far corner of the pit a flicker of light. Stig’s den!

  He scrubbed away some tears that had got into his eyes and said firmly: ‘It did happen. And I know where the treasure is.’ And he went scampering away along the gloomy bottom of the pit towards the den.

  He knew his way pretty well now, even in the dark, but as he went he kicked cans and rattled old sheets of iron as much as he could. He wanted to give Stig warning that they were coming. He felt it would be too much, trying to explain Stig to the policeman, even if Stig was there in front of his eyes. He heard the policeman coming along behind him, making even more noise, and he was almost sure he heard a scuffle and a rustle that was Stig hiding himself in his favourite bramble patch. When he got to the entrance to the den, well ahead of the policeman, there was no sign of Stig in the bright firelight inside.