Sing ho! for a galleon of Spanish gold,
With jewels and ivory in the hold.
What treasure we'll find upon the main!
What triumph when we sail home again!
The wonder of every lad and lass
Will be the booty we amass."
After a short but entrancing voyage, and even whilst Ridgwell and Christine stood with the other children waist-deep in the great carven hold of the sunken Spanish galleon, shovelling out golden doubloons and precious jewels, the sound of Lal's voice came across the water to them.
"Autumn, ahoy!" shouted Lal.
* * * * *
"Isn't it bewildering, Chris?" lamented Ridgwell. "Only a second ago we were enthroned in a castle of golden coins and precious stones, and now, without any sort of warning whatever, we are standing upon the top of a waggon-load of newly-mown hay."
"Yes, Ridgie, and look at Lal across there, laughing about it like anything."
"He certainly does play tricks with us, Chris. See, he is sending all the children racing across to draw our hay-cart with those ropes of acorns and leaves they are holding. Hullo!" broke off Ridgwell, "somebody is throwing things at me, and if they continue doing it I shall jolly well start throwing back again."
Christine looked up from the stack of loose hay surrounding her in the cart upon which they stood.
"Why, it's apples," announced Christine.
"Where?" inquired her brother.