The reply came back after an agonised gasp. ‘Haharr! Stabbed me from the rear, eh, seascum? You pirates are all the same. Just wait’ll I get out of here!’
Luke gave the bottom another whack with his blade-flat. ‘Mayhap this’ll help ye, Wellaguller, or whatever y’call yoreself. Here, have another taste o’ my blade!’ He laid on another stinging blow and the beast almost somersaulted out of the bush in a cloud of leaves and broken twigs.
‘Owowowouch! Typical vermin pirate type, wot! Can’t slay a chap without jolly well torturin’ him t’death first. Oooh! My posterior’s aflippin’flame, y’great lout!’
It was a hare, garbed ridiculously in rags, seashells and strands of vegetation, its face stained purple with berry juice. Luke watched it cautiously as he put up his sword.
‘I’m no seascum. My name’s Luke an’ I’m a chieftain from far across the seas.’
The hare stood up, rubbing his tail area ruefully. ‘Oh I see, and that gives you the blinkin’ right to land up here an’ whale the tar out of chaps’ bottoms with your sword. Huh, prob’ly why you had to leave the place you came from – everybeast got fed up with you wallopin’ all an’ sundry round the nether regions with swords an’ whatnot, so they banished you from the blinkin’ land. Say then, scurvy cad, beaten up any other poor creatures t’day, wot wot? Speak up, sah.’
Luke was astonished at the nerve of the hare. ‘Hold on a tick, flop-ears! First you go terrifyin’ my crew with your howlin’ an’ wailin’, then you try to kill me by flingin’ those funny-lookin’ spears of yours, an’ then you got the brass neck to complain when you get caught at it. Just who d’ye think you are?’
Puffing out his narrow chest, the hare clapped a paw to his stomach and bowed curtly. ‘Who do I think I am, sah? I am smoke on the wind, a creature of many resources! To the vermin inhabiting this island I am Werragoola the purple-faced terror. In a far more elegant life than this I was known as Beauclair Fethringsol Cosfortingham. Fondly referred to as just Beau by m’family, friends an’ dear old nanny, wot!’
Vurg stole cautiously up, brandishing a stick. ‘Ah, there y’are, Luke. But who’s this creature?’
Luke made the introductions. ‘This is the one who was doin’ all the shoutin’ an’ throwin’ weapons at us. Vurg, meet Beau.’
The hare regarded Vurg’s outstretched paw suspiciously. ‘Vurg, eh? Sounds a right murderous vermin name if ever I heard one. Chap looks shifty, too. D’y’know, I’m not totally convinced that you two aren’t Sea Rogues.’
Luke sighed impatiently. ‘Well we’re not standin’ round all day just to convince ye. Come on, Vurg, let’s round up the crew an’ get back aboard the ship. We’re wastin’ time here.’
They had only gone a few paces when Beau leaped in front of them with a broad grin pasted on his purpled features.
‘You’re mice, silly old me, wot? Mice aren’t seascum, they’re good chaps like m’self. Have y’really got a ship, Admiral Luke? Are y’sailin’ away from this confounded isle? Take me with you, sirs, I beg of you. I’ll even provision your vessel with the food I grow here. You won’t be sorry. Old salty Beau they call me on shipboard, can turn m’paw to anythin’ nautical. Hoist me mains’l, loose those anchors, take a turn round the riggin’ an’ boggle me bilges, wot wot! I can spout that sort o’ rot all season . . .’
Luke could not help smiling at the lanky excited creature. ‘Keep that up, Beau, an’ we’ll make ye swim behind the ship to give us a bit o’ peace. You say you’ve got provisions?’
‘Provisions, grub, rations, scoff, vittles, tucker, you name it, Luke m’mouse, an’ I’ve got it!’
Luke was forced to place a paw across Beau’s mouth. ‘Enough, mate. You can sail with us, but on two conditions. Cut the cackle an’ show us to the provisions!’
* * *
22
THE CREW OF the Sayna spent the rest of the afternoon gathering produce which Beau had grown. They carried pears, apples, wild grapes, mushrooms, carrots and all manner of fresh food back to the ship. Luke was wondering whether he would regret his decision, because the hare never once stopped chattering.
‘Heave ho, me hearties, that’s the ticket, wot wot! I say there, what a jolly little ship, absolutely tiptop! Far nicer than the great red monstrosity that delivered me here, by the left, I should say so!’
They were filling pails from a lively trickle of fresh water running down the cliff face to the shore. Forming a chain, the crew passed it aboard, where it was emptied into the casks to top up the Sayna’s water supply. Beau was chattering on as he shoved another pail beneath the running water.
‘Oh yes, this’s the stuff t’put fur on y’tail, wot! Good fresh water, sweet an’ clean, drink it m’self, y’know, mornin’ noon an’ night. Feel those muscles, see how my eyes sparkle, have y’ever seen teeth as white as mine, wot!’
Luke pulled him to one side. ‘Beau, did you say a great red ship brought you here?’
‘Indeed it did, sah,’ filthy great thing, name o’ the Goreleech.’
Luke’s paw tightened like a vice over Beau’s. ‘Tell me everything you know about the red ship!’
Beau rubbed his paw and looked quizzically at Luke. ‘Of course, old chap, no need to crush a fellow’s paw. It all started some seasons ago when yours truly got the jolly old urge to go seafarin’. Shipped out on a small merchant craft, tradin’ round the coast, y’know. Good crew, couple o’ shrews, some hedgehogs an’ a mouse or two. We were doin’ quite well, until one night our ship was lyin’ at anchor an’ we were all in our hammocks snorin’. Well, the Goreleech sailed up an’ took us by surprise, rammed our little boat with its great iron spike, sunk us like a stone, wot. Sea Rogues everywhere, slew most of the crew, took the remainder captive. I’ll never forget the captain of the red ship, a stoat, Vilu Daskar, cruel murderin’ villain! I spent two seasons chained to an oar in the red ship’s middle decks, starved, whipped, kicked an’ beaten. Still got the scars if y’d like to see ’em. I was the only beast out of my old crew left alive after a while, then I fell sick, too weak’n’thin to be of further use at the oar. Vilu Daskar had me thrown overboard. Prob’ly thought I was about t’die, so the fish an’ the tides could finish me. Hah! But I came off stern stock. My old nanny could have told him that I was a Cosfortingham, an’ we don’t die too easily, y’know. I was washed up here an’ this has been my home ever since. Island’s full o’ vermin, though, searats an’ such, deserters, runaways an’ some who’ve been marooned – evil lot. The rogues would’ve skinned an’ scoffed me, but I’ve spent my seasons here livin’ in secret, growin’ my own tucker an’ fightin’ ’em from the shadows’n’tree cover. That’s when I became Werragoola Purpleface, regular one-hare army, wot!’
Luke smiled in admiration at the brave hare. ‘You did well, Beau. Tell me, have you ever sighted Vilu Daskar’s vessel again?’
‘Rather. Passed here three moons ago, put in for water an’ sailed off bound south. I hid on the clifftops an’ watched the red ship come an’ go. D’you know, your ship’s the first decent craft with honest crew I’ve ever seen put in here. Jolly lucky for me I’d say, wot wot!’
Screeching war cries cut the conversation short, and Beau hurled himself at Luke, knocking him to one side. A rough sharp spear buried itself in the sand where Luke had stood a moment before. Down the steps in the cliff face a huge mob of ragged vermin were dashing towards the Sayna’s crew.
The Warrior mouse acted swiftly. Grabbing the spear, he ran forward, shaking it to feel the balance. From halfway between the tideline and the stairs he made a mighty throw. A searat, slightly ahead of the rest, took the spear through his middle and toppled over screaming. Those behind could not stop their mad charge and stumbled over the slain rat. Luke’s roar snapped the crew out of their shock.
‘Back to the ship at the double!’
The vermin who had tripped on their fallen comrade did not have far to fall. They sprawled in the sand momentarily, then scrambled up and gave chase after t
he mice.
Weapons drawn, Luke, Vurg and Beau stood in the shallows, hurrying the crew past them. ‘Get aboard quick, mates, loose all sails an’ up anchor!’
Cordle, Denno and Dulam helped the first few over the side and set to, turning the windlass to haul up the anchor.
Wild with their desire to capture a ship, vermin thundered recklessly into the water. Luke swung back and forth with his sword, slaying and wounding wherever he struck. Vurg hit out with his spear and Beau went at them, a club in each paw. ‘Yaaah! Back, back, ye scum!’
Other vermin were coming in from both sides now, to cut the trio off from their vessel. Aboard the Sayna, Coll and some others went to work. Hanging over the stern, they whizzed arrows and slingstones at the mob in the shallows. It was Cardo who saved the day, though. Grabbing an axe, he chopped the rear anchor free of its rope, then, heaving until he had pulled a fair length from the windlass, the resourceful mouse cast the thick line into the sea. ‘Grab ahold, mates, we’ll haul ye aboard!’
Luke held off the closest foes whilst Beau seized the rope and knotted it into a wide loop, which he threw over Vurg and Luke with one wide cast, then ducked inside to join them. Bound together within the noose of anchor rope, they struck out at the surrounding attackers, with Vurg bellowing back to the ship, ‘Heave away, mates, fast as y’like!’
Billowing sails caught the wind, whipping the Sayna out to sea. Every available crewmouse bent his back at the windlass spokes, making it fly round. Luke smashed a spearhead with a swipe of his swordblade, but before he could strike at its owner his footpaws left the seabed and he was swept away backwards with Vurg and Beau pressed either side of him. Even spraying seawater sloshing at his mouth could not silence the hare.
‘Fare thee well, vermin, glub glub! G’bye, chaps, gluggle!’
With the Sayna’s outward momentum and the windlass winding them in, they soon outdistanced the maddened vermin. Vurg felt his back bump hard against the ship’s side as Beau hooted, ‘Steady on, chaps, glub! We ain’t the blinkin’ enemy. Gluggle ug! D’ye mind lettin’ us live a trifle longer! Pshaw! This seawater tastes jolly foul, wot!’
Willing paws pulled them aboard, and Luke wriggled free of the rope. They stood astern, watching the island recede as the enraged mob fought among themselves in the shallows. Luke put aside his blade and took off his sopping tunic.
‘How did we do, Cardo? Everybeast safe?’
‘Aye, they’re all alive, mate, one or two wounds. I took a slingstone right across the paw meself!’
Vurg inspected the cut on his friend’s paw. ‘Nasty! Is that the paw you use t’cook with?’
Cardo smiled cheerfully. ‘No.’
Vurg gave a disappointed sigh. ‘Wot a pity!’
The crew laughed heartily at the indignant Cardo.
Beau looked from one to another, unable to fathom the joke. ‘What’s so funny? Is the blighter an awful cook?’
This caused further laughter and more indignation from Cardo. ‘Take no notice of ’em, Beau. They’re all lousy cooks. You’ll be sorry you signed aboard this ship, mate, ’specially when y’taste the grub. It’s dreadful. Even the fishes throw the scraps back aboard!’
Immediately the hare cast off his raggy garb and began wrapping a length of canvas around his waist like an apron. ‘Lucky you found me then, chaps. Aboard my old ship I was voted the choicest chef to be chosen from all chief chefs!’
Coll nudged the hare. ‘Bet you couldn’t say that again?’
Beau dismissed him with an airy twiddle of both ears. ‘Couldn’t I though, hah? I was the cheese chofen chief of all choosers, no, wait a tick, I was choked by a chosen chief chook, no, that ain’t right . . .’
Luke interrupted him. ‘If y’can cook, then stow the blather an’ get t’the galley. Cardo, you can be Beau’s assistant. Denno, attend the wounded, you were always good at healin’. Coll, you take the tiller. Keep that westerin’ sun at your right shoulder – we’re followin’ the red ship south. The rest of you trim the sails an’ see she moves along steady!’
Beau turned out to be an excellent cook. That night he served the crew of the Sayna a meal to gladden their hearts. Being a hare, he cooked victuals in generous portions, so there was more than enough for all.
‘Right ho, I know this’ll be wasted on you famine-faced chaps, but here’s tonight’s menu, wot. Starters, cheese an’ onion turnovers, with my own flaky pastry, followed by shrimp an’ mushroom bake in a parsley an’ turnip sauce. For afters there’s a pear an’ plum pudden. To drink, mint an’ dandelion tea or some rather good cider I found in your ship’s stores. Hold hard a moment there, don’t touch a bally crumb till I’ve said grace, you savages!’
Luke lowered his eyes, admonishing the crew. ‘He’s right. No need to get sloppy an’ bad-mannered ’cos we’re not at home. Carry on, Beau.’
The hare intoned the grace at tremendous speed.
‘Fate’n’fortunes smile on us,
An’ of this crew take care,
But let no greedy robber try,
To guzzle up my share!’
Before anybeast could raise an eye or pick up a spoon the hare was tucking in as if there were no tomorrow.
Vurg passed the turnovers to Luke. ‘Our cook can certainly shift the vittles, mate!’
Luke sniffed the hot turnovers appreciatively. ‘Beau can do wot he likes, long as he keeps servin’ up meals as good as this ’un!’
‘Aye. Better put some aside for Cordle – he’s on tiller watch.’
The Sayna ploughed steadily south on fair seas under a waning moon. Weary after the day’s exertions her crew lay down to rest, though food seemed to have the opposite effect on the garrulous cook. Beau quoted endless rhymes, danced and sang ceaselessly, now that he was not alone but in the company of friends. Luke sent him on deck to guard the tiller, and he did a double watch, serenading the sea and the night skies. Dulam wadded his cloak about both ears, complaining bitterly. ‘A good cook he may be, but a tuneful singer he ain’t. Sounds like somebeast attackin’ a plank wid a rusty saw out there. Hoi, give yore gob a rest, will ye, Beau!’
But insults and pleas had no effect on the off-key warbler.
‘Oooooh flunky dee an’ a rum tumtum,
The good ship Flinkydogg,
Set sail with a crew o’ fishes,
An’ fat ole cap’n frog.
Oooooh doodle dey make way make way,
The frog said to the fishes,
“All fins on deck an’ use yore tails
To wash these dirty dishes!”
Oooooh skiddle deedoo, a fig for you,
The fishcrew boldly cried,
“Just chuck ’em in the ocean,
They’ll be washed up by the tide!”
’Tis mutiny oh woe is me,
The frog did croak so said,
“If I’d a crew o’ boiler crabs,
They’d not be’ave so bad!”
’Twas after dark, a passin’ shark,
Heard what was goin’ on,
So for his tea, impartially,
He ate up everyone.
Oooooh goodness me hoho heehee,
The shark smiled, “Lackaday,
I can’t abide a feckless frog,
Nor fish who won’t obey!”’
Beau neatly dodged an apple core flung at him from the cabin. His ears stood up indignantly. ‘Rotten bounders, fancy chuckin’ missiles at a chap who’s doin’ his level best to sing y’to sleep, ungrateful cads!’
He was answered by an irate bellow. ‘Y’great lanky lollop-eared breezebarrel. Shuttup!’
Beau lay back on the deck, tending the tiller with a long footpaw.
‘A wink’s as good as a nod t’me, old lad, if y’don’t appreciate good music then I’ll withdraw the privilege of my melodious meanderings. But I’ll finish this little ditty first. Stay calm, there’s only another forty-six verses to go.’
* * *
23
IN THE FOLLOWING weeks the Sayna cove
red many sea leagues. They were well out of the cold latitudes and the weather became almost tropical, with constant sunshine beating down out of clear blue skies. But Luke was getting edgy and frustrated. There had been no sign of the red ship, which could be anywhere in the trackless wastes of ocean they were searching. Between them, he and Denno began drawing up a chart, from the northern shores to the isle where Beau had lived and onward. Luke was disappointed that there were no other landfalls to act as route markers.
‘We’re sailin’ blind, mate. At least if we sighted land there might be some news of the red ship, but all we’ve seen for ages now is nothing but sea on every horizon.’
Denno put aside his quill pen, nodding agreement. ‘Aye, we could do with takin’ on some fresh water, too, an’ the supplies are runnin’ low. That hare must think his one job in life is dishin’ up mountains o’ vittles to the crew. Lookit the stomach I’ve put on!’
Luke, however, was not about to criticise his cook. ‘You leave ole Beau out o’ this, Denno. That hare can do no wrong as far as I’m concerned, mate. I never tasted such wonderful food in all my seasons.’
But Denno’s words proved prophetic. It was on the afternoon of the following day that Vurg scraped bottom of one water cask with the dipper.
‘If’n we don’t sight land soon then I reckon we’re in trouble, matey. Water’s all but finished!’
Beau emerged from his galley swinging a ladle. ‘No water? Well, we’ll have t’make do with cider an’ whatnot. Cardo, what’s the jolly old position on drinks other than water? You’re my assistant seacook.’
There was a rattling and scuttling from the galley, then Cardo popped a mournful face round the door. ‘Down t’the dregs, Beau, down t’the very dregs!’
The irrepressible Beau began climbing the rope ladder of the centre mast. ‘Well, no use standin’ round with a face like a squashed apple, comrade o’ mine. Just have t’scan the bloomin’ horizon for land, wot wot!’