Tales From Moominvalley (13 page)

They became accustomed to seeing her pink dress marching along behind Moominmamma. As soon as Moominmamma stopped, the silver bell also stopped, and when she continued her way the bell began tinkling again. A bit above the dress a big rose-pink bow was bobbing in thin air.

Moominmamma continued to treat Ninny with Granny's medicine, but nothing further happened. So after some time she stopped the treatment, thinking that many people had managed all right before without a head, and besides perhaps Ninny wasn't very good-looking.

Now everyone could imagine for himself what she looked like, and this can often brighten up a relationship.

One day the family went off through the wood down to the beach. They were going to pull the boat up for winter. Ninny came tinkling behind as usual, but when they came in view of the sea she suddenly stopped. Then she lay down on her stomach in the sand and started to whine.

'What's come over Ninny? Is she frightened?' asked Moominpappa.

'Perhaps she hasn't seen the sea before,' Moominmamma said. She stooped and exchanged a few whispering words with Ninny. Then she straightened up again and said:

'No, it's the first time. Ninny thinks the sea's too big.'

'Of all the silly kids,' little My started, but Moominmamma gave her a severe look and said: 'Don't be a silly kid yourself. Now let's pull the boat ashore.'

They went out on the landing-stage to the bathing hut where Too-ticky lived, and knocked at the door.

'Hullo,' Too-ticky said, 'how's the invisible child?'

'There's only her snout left,' Moominpappa replied. 'At the moment she's a bit startled but it'll pass over. Can you lend us a hand with the boat?'

'Certainly,' Too-ticky said.

While the boat was pulled ashore and turned keel upwards Ninny had padded down to the water's edge and was standing immobile on the wet sand. They left her alone.

Moominmamma sat down on the landing-stage and looked down into the water. 'Dear me, how cold it looks,' she said. And then she yawned a bit and added that nothing exciting had happened for weeks.

Moominpappa gave Moomintroll a wink, pulled a horrible face and started to steal up to Moominmamma from behind.

Of course he didn't really think of pushing her in the water as he had done many times when she was young. Perhaps he didn't even want to startle her, but just to amuse the kids a little.

But before he reached her a sharp cry was heard, a pink streak of lightning shot over the landing-stage and Moominpappa let out a scream and dropped his hat into the water. Ninny had sunk her small invisible teeth in Moominpappa's tail, and they were sharp.

'Good work!' cried My. 'I couldn't have done it better myself!'

Ninny was standing on the landing-stage. She had a small, snub-nosed, angry face below a red tangle of hair. She was hissing at Moominpappa like a cat.

'Don't you
dare
push her into the big horrible sea!' she cried.

'I see her, I see her!' shouted Moomintroll. 'She's sweet!'

'Sweet my eye,' said Moominpappa, inspecting his bitten tail. 'She's the silliest, nastiest, badly-brought-uppest child I've ever seen, with or without a head.'

He knelt down on the landing-stage and tried to fish for his hat with a stick. And in some mysterious way he managed to tip himself over, and tumbled in on his head.

He came up at once, standing safely on the bottom, with his snout above water and his ears filled with mud.

'Oh dear!' Ninny was shouting. 'Oh, how great! Oh, how funny!'

The landing-stage shook with her laughter.

'I believe she's never laughed before,' Too-ticky said wonderingly. 'You seem to have changed her, she's even worse than little My. But the main thing is that one can see her, of course.'

'It's all thanks to Granny,' Moominmamma said.

The Secret of the Hattifatteners

O
NCE
upon a time, rather long ago, it so happened that Moominpappa went away from home without the least explanation and without even himself understanding why he had to go.

Moominmamma said afterwards that he had seemed odd for quite a time, but probably he hadn't been odder than usual. That was just one of those things one thinks up afterwards when one's bewildered and sad and wants the comfort of an explanation.

No one was quite certain of the moment Moominpappa had left.

Snufkin said that he had intended to row out with the hemulen to catch some alburn, but according to the hemulen Moominpappa had only sat on the verandah as usual and suddenly remarked that the weather was hot and boring and that the landing-stage needed a bit of repair. In any case Moominpappa hadn't repaired it, because it was as lop-sided as before. Also the boat was still there.

So Moominpappa had set out on foot, and as he could have chosen several directions there was no point in looking for him.

'He'll be back in due time,' Moominmamma said. 'That's what he used to tell me from the beginning, and he always came back, so I suppose he'll return this time too.'

No one felt worried, and that was a good thing. They had decided never to feel worried about each other; in this way everybody was helped to a good conscience and as much freedom as possible.

So Moominmamma started some new knitting without making any fuss, and somewhere to the west Moominpappa was wandering along with a dim idea firmly in his head.

It had to do with a cape he once had seen on one of the family picnics. The cape had pointed straight out to sea, the sky had been yellow and a bit of wind had sprung up towards night. He had never been able to go out there to see what was on the other side. The family wanted to turn home for tea. They always wanted to go home at the wrong time. But Moominpappa had stood on the beach for a while, looking out over the water. And

at that very moment a row of small white boats with sprit sails had come into sight under land, putting straight out to sea.

'That's hattifatteners,' the hemulen had said, and in those words everything was expressed. A little slightingly, a little cautiously and quite clearly with repudiation. Those were the outsiders, half-dangerous, different.

And then an overpowering longing and melancholy had gripped Moominpappa, and the only thing he knew for certain was that he didn't want any tea on the verandah. Not that evening, nor any other evening.

This had been quite a time ago, but the picture never left him. And so one afternoon he went away.

The day was hot, and he walked at random.

He didn't dare to think about it, nor to feel anything, he simply went on walking towards the sunset, screwing up his eyes under the hatbrim and whistling to himself, but no special tune. There were uphills and downhills,

the trees came wandering towards and past him, and their shadows were beginning to lengthen.

At the moment when the sun clipped down into the sea Moominpappa came out on to the long gravel shore where no ways ever stopped and no one ever thought of going for a picnic.

He hadn't seen it before; it was a grey and dreary beach that told him nothing except that land ended and sea started here. Moominpappa stepped down to the water and looked outward.

And naturally - what else could indeed have happened? - at that very moment a little white boat came slowly gliding before the wind along the shore.

'Here they are,' Moominpappa said calmly and started to wave.

There were only three hattifatteners aboard the boat. They were quite as white as the boat and the sail. One was sitting at the helm and two with their backs to the mast. All three were staring out to sea and looking as if they had been quarrelling. But Moominpappa had heard that hattifatteners never quarrel, they are very silent and interested only in travelling onwards, as far as possible. All the way to the horizon, or to the world's end, which is probably the same thing. Or so people said. It was also said that a hattifattener cared for nothing but himself, and further that they all became electric in a thunderstorm. Also that they were dangerous company to all who lived in drawing-rooms and verandahs and were used to doing certain things at certain times.

All this had greatly interested Moominpappa for as long as he could remember, but as it isn't considered quite nice to talk about hattifatteners, except indirectly, he still didn't know whether all those things were true.