Hills End by Ivan Southall Page A

up, Gussie. You know that. How can we possibly get out until morning?’
    â€˜Oh dear! I hope we do get out—some time.’
    â€˜I think we’d better not eat the rest of our food. I think we’d better keep it.’
    â€˜All I’ve got’s a bit of cake.’
    â€˜I’ve got a couple of sandwiches.’
    â€˜How much higher do you think the water’ll get?’
    â€˜How should I know?’
    â€˜Perhaps Miss Godwin will rescue us.’
    â€˜Yeah. But somehow I don’t think so.’
    â€˜Funny, isn’t it?’
    â€˜What’s funny?’
    â€˜I dunno. Everything.’
    Â 
    Butch had used his brains. Perhaps he didn’t have many, but he used what he had. He had dragged Miss Godwin into the foliage of a fallen tree where the force of the storm was broken and where nothing could hit them, unless the wind turned round and blew from the opposite direction. There, in the little nest he made of leaves and twigs, he sheltered his teacher from the rain, with tons of wood, boughs, branches, and dense foliage between them and the angry sky. It was wet, dreadfully wet, but he couldn’t have found a safer place in the forest.
    He sat beside her for one hour, for two hours, for three hours and a half before she came out of her sleep, her coma, or whatever it was. When she opened her eyes she looked straight up through the gloom and he saw a frown etch into her brow.
    â€˜Good afternoon, Miss Godwin,’ he said politely.
    She didn’t speak and he thought she hadn’t heard, so he repeated his greeting. And slowly then, as slowly as her frown had formed, a little smile formed at the corners of her mouth.
    â€˜Good afternoon, Christopher,’ she said thinly. ‘So I did find you after all?’
    â€˜Yes, miss, but you were in a bit of a mess, if you don’t mind my saying so.’
    â€˜That’s a good boy, Christopher. That was nice to hear. You preceded the gerund by the possessive. Have you been thinking about it?’
    â€˜Yes, miss. I’ve had a long time to think about it.’
    â€˜A good boy, Christopher. Is it still raining?’
    â€˜Yes, miss.’
    â€˜But the thunder has stopped?’
    â€˜Long ago, miss. Before you found me, miss. It was kind of you to look for me, miss.’
    â€˜That’s all right, Christopher. You knew I’d come, didn’t you?’
    â€˜Yes, miss.’
    â€˜Where are we?’
    â€˜In the forest at the edge of the rock pan. We’re in a tree that blew down. I knew it couldn’t blow down again, so I thought it would be safe.’
    â€˜That was very clever of you. I do feel weak, Christopher, but I think we’d better be going. We must tell Mr Tobias what has happened. He’ll be able to rescue the others. They must not come down without ropes to steady them. Will you be able to help me along?’
    â€˜Of course, miss. Do you want to go now, in the rain?’
    â€˜We must, mustn’t we?’
    â€˜I suppose so, miss.’
    She squeezed his arm. ‘Thank you for saving my life, Christopher. You know you’ve saved my life, don’t you?’
    â€˜Yes, miss, and I’m so proud.’
    â€˜You’re a dear boy and a very clever boy. Will you help me now?’
    â€˜Follow me, miss. We’ll have to crawl to get out.’
    She rolled over and made to follow him and then she saw his bare feet. ‘Christopher,’ she cried. ‘Your new shoes—what have you done with them?’
    He stopped and hung his head. ‘I’ve lost them, miss.’
    â€˜Oh, what a shame! I must buy you another pair …You will let me, won’t you?’
    â€˜Yes, miss.’
    â€˜And you were going to walk all that way without shoes? And with feet so tender?’
    â€˜I’m still going to, miss. We’ve got to get the ropes.’
    â€˜You’re a brave boy, Christopher, as well as a good