For the summer months it’s nice to be out and about and
under canvas, and although this particular expedition was not as successful in
that regard as was hoped, it still remains one of my all-time favourite books
which I have read so often the book is falling apart. When I read it on the
Thames itself, and on the towpath outside Hampton Court Palace, it almost had
to be held over a bag in case bits fell off. I’m not a good sailor but I do
like a boat on a river, and this one appealed particularly, even if it didn’t
really work!
‘We won’t take a tent,’ suggested George; ‘we will have a
boat with a cover. It is ever so much simpler, and more comfortable.’
It seemed a good thought, and we adopted it. I do not know whether
you have ever seen the thing I mean. You fix iron hoops over the boat, and
stretch a huge canvas over them, and fasten it down all round, from stem to
stern, and it converts the boat into a sort of little house, and it is
beautifully cosy, though a trifle stuffy …
Then we thought we were going to have supper (we had
dispensed with tea, so as to save time), but George said no; that we had better
get the canvas up first, before it got quite dark, and while we could still see
what we were doing. Then, he said, all our work would be done, and we could sit
down to eat with an easy mind.
That canvas wanted more putting up than I think any of us
had bargained for. It looked so simple in the abstract. You took five iron
arches, like gigantic croquet hoops, and fitted them up over the boat, and then
stretched the canvas over them, and fastened it down; it would take quite ten
minutes, we thought.
That was an underestimate.
We took up the hoops, and began to drop them into the
sockets places for them. You would not imagine this to be dangerous work; but,
looking back now, the wonder to me is that any of us are alive to tell the
tale. They were not hoops, they were demons. First they would not fit into
their sockets at all, and we had to jump on them, and kick them, and hammer at
them with the boat-hook; and, when they were in, it turned out that they were
the wrong hoops for those particular sockets, and they had to come out again.
But they would not come out, until two of us had gone and
struggled with them for five minutes, when they would jump up suddenly, and try
and throw us in the water and drown us. They had hinges in the middle, and,
when we were not looking, they nipped us with these hinges in delicate parts of
the body; and, while we were wrestling with one side of the hoop, and endeavouring
to persuade it to do its duty, the other side would come behind us in a
cowardly manner, and hit us over the head.
We got them fixed at last, and then all that was to be done
was to arrange the covering over them. George unrolled it, and fastened one end
over the nose of the boat. Harris stood in the middle to take it from George
and roll it on to me, and I kept by the stern to receive it. It was a long time
coming down to me. George did his part all right, but it was new work to Harris,
and he bungled it.
How he managed it I do not know, he could not explain
himself; but by some mysterious process or other he succeeded, after ten
minutes of superhuman effort, in getting himself completely rolled up in it. He
was so firmly wrapped round and tucked in and folded over, that he could not
get out. He, of course, made frantic struggles for freedom – the birthright of
every Englishman – and in doing so (I learned this afterwards), knocked over
George; and then George, swearing at Harris, began to struggle too, and got himself entangled and rolled up.
I knew nothing about all this at the time. I did not
understand the business at all myself. I had been told to stand where I was,
and wait till the canvas came to me, and Montmorency and I stood there and
waited both as good as gold. We could see the canvas being violently jerked and
tossed about, pretty considerably; but we supposed this was a part of the
method, and did not interfere.
We also heard much smothered language coming from underneath
it, and we guessed that they were finding the job rather troublesome, and
concluded that we would wait until things had got a little simpler before we
joined in.
We waited some time, but matters seemed to get only more and
more involved, until, at last, George’s head came wriggling out over the side
of the boat, and spoke up.
It said:
‘Give us a hand here, can’t you, you cuckoo; standing there
like a stuffed mummy, when you see we are both being suffocated, you dummy!’
I never could withstand an appeal for help, so I went and
undid them; not before it was time, either, for Harris was nearly black in the
face.