chapter 7 george, sniffer and liz

george had had quite an interesting day. first she had gone down to help captain johnson do clip'sleg again and bandage it up. the little skewbald stood very patiently, and george felt a sudden likingfor the ugly little creature.

'thanks, george,' said captain johnson, who, to her relief, had said nothing about her not havinggone riding with the others. 'now would you like to come and put jumps up for the youngsters?

they're longing to do some more jumping.'

george found that it was quite amusing to teach the younger ones how to jump. they were so veryvery proud of themselves when they went over even a foot-high jump on their little ponies.

after that sniffer arrived, accompanied by a peculiar little mongrel called liz. liz was a bit of aspaniel, a bit of a poodle, and odd bits of something else - and looked rather like a small, walkinghearth-rug of black curly fur.

timmy was amazed to see this walking mat, and sat and watched liz sniffing here and there for sometime, before he came to the conclusion that it really was some kind of dog. he gave a sharp little barkto see what this comical creature would do when she heard it.

liz took no notice at all. she had unearthed a small bone, which smelt extremely interesting.

timmy considered that all bones within the radius of at least a mile belonged to him and him alone.

so he ran over to liz at once and gave a small, warning growl.

liz immediately dropped the bone humbly at his feet, then sat up on her hind-legs and begged.

timmy eyed her in astonishment. then liz stood up on her hindlegs and walked daintily all roundtimmy and back again.

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timmy was astounded. he had never seen a dog do that before. could this hearthrug affair be a dogafter all?

liz saw that timmy was really impressed, and went on with yet another trick she had learnt duringthe time she had been with the circus.

she turned head-over-heels, yapping all the time. timmy retreated a few steps into the bushes.

this was going too far! what was this animal doing? trying to stand on its head?

liz went on turning head-over-heels very rapidly and ended up almost on timmy's front paws.

he had now backed into the bush as far as he could.

liz remained on her back, paws in air, tongue hanging out, panting. she gave a very small,beseeching whine.

timmy bent his head down and sniffed at her paws. behind him his tail began to move a little, yes, ithad a wag in it! he sniffed again. liz leapt on to her four feet and pranced all round timmy, yappingas if to say 'come on and play! do come!'

and then suddenly timmy fell upon the absurd little creature and pretended to worry it. liz gave adelighted volley of yaps and rolled over and over. they had a marvellous game, and when it was allover, timmy sank down panting for breath, in a sunny corner of the yard and liz settled herselfbetween his front paws, as if she had known him all her life!

when george came out of the stable with sniffer, she could hardly believe her eyes. 'what's thattimmy's got between his paws?' she said. 'it's surely not a dog!'

'it's liz,' said sniffer. 'she can get round any dog there is, master george! liz! you're a monkey,aren't you! walk, then, walk!'

liz left timmy and ran over to sniffer, walking daintily on her hind legs. george laughed. 'what afunny little creature, like a bit cut out of a furry hearthrug!'

'she's clever,' said sniffer and patted liz. 'well, master george, when can i have clip, do you think?

my father has gone off with the other caravans and he's left me with ours. so it doesn't matterwhether it's today or tomorrow, or even the next day.'

'well, it won't be today, that's certain,' said george, pleased that sniffer called her master george notmiss. 'it might perhaps be tomorrow. haven't you got a hanky, sniffer? i never on my life heardanyone sniff as often as you do.'

sniffer rubbed his sleeve across his nose. 'i never had no hanky,' he said. 'but i've got my sleeve,see?'

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'i think you're quite disgusting,' said george. 'i'm going to give you one of my own hankies, andyou're to use it. you're not to keep sniffing like that.'

'didn't know i did,' said sniffer, half sulkily. 'what's it matter, anyway?'

but george had gone indoors and up the stairs. she chose a large hanky, in red and white stripes.

that would do nicely for sniffer! she took it down to him. he looked at it in surprise.

'that's a scarf for my neck!' he said.

'no, it isn't. it's a hanky for your nose,' said george. 'haven't you a pocket to put it in? that's right.

now, use it instead of sniffing, for goodness' sake!'

'where are the others?' asked sniffer, putting the hanky carefully into his pocket, almost as if it weremade of glass.

'gone riding,' said george, shortly.

'they said they would come and see my caravan,' said sniffer. 'they said so!'

'well, they won't be able to today,' said george. 'they'll be back too late, i expect. i'll come and seeit, though. there's nobody in it, is there?'

george was not keen on meeting sniffer's father or any other of his relations! he shook his head.

'no, it's empty. my father's gone, i told you, and my aunt and my grandma too.'

'what do you do on the moor?' asked george, as she followed sniffer across the field and up the hillto where the caravans had stood. now only one was left - sniffer's.

'play around,' said sniffer, and gave an enormous sniff. george gave him a shove in the back.

'sniffer! what did i give you the hanky for? don't do that! it gets on my nerves!'

sniffer used his sleeve at once, but fortunately george didn't notice. she had now come to thecaravan and was staring at it. she thought of sniffer's answer to her question a minute or two back.

'you said you just played around on the moor. but what does your father do, and your uncle andgrandad and all the rest of the men? there's nothing to do there at all, as far as i can see, and nofarmhouse to beg eggs or milk or anything from.'

sniffer shut up like a clam. he was just about to sniff and thought better of it. he stared at george, hismouth set in an obstinate line.

george looked at him impatiently. 'captain johnson said you and your caravans went there everythree months,' she said. 'what for? there must be some reason?'

'well,' said sniffer, looking away from her, 'we make pegs, and baskets, and...'

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'i know that! all gypsies make things to sell,' said george. 'but you don't need to go into the middleof a deserted moor to make them. you can do them just as well in a village, or sitting in a field near afarmhouse. why go to such a lonely place as the moor?'

sniffer said nothing, but bent over a queer little arrangement of sticks set on the path beside hiscaravan. george saw them and bent over them too, her question forgotten.

'oh! is that a patrin? a gypsy message! what does it mean?'

there were two sticks, one long and one short, neatly arranged in the shape of a cross. a little fartherup on the path were a few single, straight sticks, all pointing in the same direction. 'yes,'

said sniffer, very glad to have the subject changed. 'it's our way of telling things to those who maycome after us. see the sticks in the shape of the cross? that's a patrin that says we've been along thisway and we're going in the direction that the long stick points.'

'i see,' said george. 'how simple! but what about these four straight sticks, all pointing the same waytoo. what do they mean?'

'they mean that the travellers went in caravans,' said sniffer, giving a sudden sniff. 'see, four sticks,four caravans, going that way!'

'i see,' said george, making up her mind that she herself would evolve quite a few 'patrins' for use atschool when they went for walks. 'are there any more 'patrins' sniffer?'

'plenty,' said the boy. 'look, when i leave here, i shall put a patrin like this!' he picked a large leaffrom a nearby tree, and then a small one. he placed them side by side, and weighted them down withsmall stones.

'what in the world does that mean?' said george.

'well, it's a patrin, a message, to say that me and my little dog have gone in the caravan too,' saidsniffer, picking up the leaves. 'suppose my father came back to find me, and he saw those leavesthere, he'd know i'd gone on with my dog. it's simple. big leaf for me, little leaf for my dog!'

'yes. i like it,' said george, pleased. 'now let's look at the caravan.'

it was an old-fashioned kind of caravan, not very big, and with high wheels. the door and the stepsdown were in front. the shafts rested on the ground waiting for clip to come back. the caravan wasblack, with red designs on it here and there.

george went up the steps. 'i've been inside a few caravans,' she said. 'but never one quite like this.'

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she peeped in curiously. it certainly wasn't very clean, but it wasn't as dirty as she expected either.

'it's not smelly, is it?' said sniffer, quite anxiously. 'i tidied it up today, seeing as how i thought youwere all visiting me. that's our bed at the back. we all sleep on it.'

george stared at the big bunk-like bed stretched at the end of the caravan, covered with a bright quilt.

she imagined the whole family sleeping there, close together. well at least they would be warm inthe winter.

'don't you get hot in the summer, sleeping in this small caravan?' asked george.

'oh no, only my grandma sleeps here then,' said sniffer, swallowing a sniff in a hurry, before georgecould hear it. 'me and the others sleep under the caravan. then if it rains it don't matter.'

'well, thanks for showing me so many things,' said george, looking round at the cupboards, the littlelocker-seats, and the over-big chest of drawers. 'how you all get in here is a miracle.'

she didn't go in. even though sniffer had tidied up, there was still a distinctly peculiar smell hangingabout!

'come and see us tomorrow, sniffer,' she said, going down the steps. 'clip may be all right by then.

and sniffer, don't you forget you've got a hanky now!'

'i won't forget,' said sniffer, proudly. 'i'll keep it as clean as can be, master george!'