The Happy Mariners (11 page)

They both stared about them. Something was stealing into the forest, something they had both been waiting and hoping for; yet now it was come they were surprised to find it so beautiful. ‘Morning at last!' sighed Elizabeth rapturously. Morning began glowing in the forest; at first dimly, shyly; then with
a more golden radiance. Birds awoke in the branches and called to each other; the greenness became visibly green, and the little patch of sky overhead shone like an opal. ‘Time to get up!' shouted Elizabeth joyously. ‘Something's happened at last. It's morning!'

The boys roused at once. ‘Anything wrong?' cried Rex, snatching up his gun by the barrel. And Guy, saying nothing, jumped to his feet and looked wildly round.

‘Nothing at all,' said Elizabeth. ‘Have a good sleep?'

Rex did not answer. His gaze was fixed on something that lay ten yards away from where Elizabeth stood. ‘What's that?'

They all looked, following his stealthily pointing finger. ‘It's a man asleep,' said Guy.

‘Oh, it must be Phineas,' cried Elizabeth, clapping her hands. ‘Phineas, we're here!' she called.

‘It's not Phineas,' said Rex. ‘Don't make such a row, Elizabeth. It's not Phineas. And look!—there are two of them. Pirates!'

‘Let's slip off while we can,' whispered Guy.

But at that moment one of the sleepers awoke, sat up, rubbed his eyes, and opened his mouth in a huge yawn.

Up went Rex's musket to his shoulder.

‘Hands up!' the children shouted.

‘M-m-m-mercy!' cried the man. His eyes started out of his head in fear; he raised his trembling hands; his teeth chattered. ‘Do have a bit of pity, mister! Don't be unkind, I simply can't bear it. I'm really quite a nice man. And so
very
sensitive,
so
highly strung. My nerves are out of order, I'm not getting my proper sleep, I need to be made a fuss of, and if you don't p-p-p-put that m-m-musket away I shall b-b-b-b-b-burst into tears.' With these words, his empty hands held high in air, the man rose jerkily to his feet, revealing himself as a lean lanky creature wearing an ancient and ragged swallow-tailed coat over a sailor's jersey and bell-bottomed trousers. Round his head was tied a red handkerchief, white-spotted. He had large pathetic eyes like a cow; his blunt nose stuck out sharply; and the length of his narrow face was exaggerated by a little fawn-coloured beard, that wagged at the end of his chin. Except for this appendage he was clean-shaven. At the conclusion of his appeal he allowed his mouth to remain
open, and a timid smile shone in his eyes as if he were trying to say: ‘See how harmless I am!'

‘You're a pirate,' Rex accused him. ‘You'd better own up, because we know.'

Tears glistened in the poor fellow's eyes; his nostrils dilated like those of a frightened horse; and, apparently unable to trust himself to speak, he gazed in silence at his captors, his mouth still open in a manner that made him look like a sentimental goldfish.

‘Look here,' said Guy, ‘you've got to answer a few questions. Who are you? And who's that other chap over there? We think you're pirates, so we're not taking any chances.'

‘Yes,' said the man, ‘I'm a pirate right enough, mister. And a bloodthirsty gang we are. On the other hand, I wouldn't hurt a fly—not unless someone held it down for me. You've got that to take into account. Slaughter and pillage and loot and such like is meat and drink to me in a manner of speaking. But you mustn't lose sight of the facts
(a)
that I've a sweet nature,
(b)
that I can't rightly digest me food, and
(c)
that it's your duty to be kind to me, as Christian children, seeing as how I've flung myself on your mercy.' He smiled winsomely through his tears, adding: ‘And sweeter chicks I never seen, if it isn't taking a liberty, my dears …' Seeing the sudden scowl on Rex's face, the pirate broke off short and fell to trembling again. Mutely, with his eloquent mournful eyes, he begged for a kind word.

‘You're an awful funk,' said Rex. ‘We don't need telling that.'

‘I am indeed,' cried the pirate eagerly, and with a radiant smile. ‘Through and through and through and through. Thank you for saying that, sir. It's so nice to be understood. A funk I am, and never one to conceal it. That's why it's so bad for me to be scolded or treated roughly. It upsets me something terrible.'

‘What's your name?' asked Martin. ‘Mine's Martin.'

‘They call me Bill Murder,' said the pirate, with a downcast look and a modest blush. ‘Whether I deserve the name or not isn't for the likes of me to say. But that,' he repeated, with a complacent smile, ‘is what my mates do call me, dear child—on account of me furious temper, so they say.'

‘And who's that other chap?' put in Guy.

‘That's a dear friend of mine, Nautical Tallboy by name. Nautical, Nautical, wake up, dear lad, and be introduced to the kind gentlemen.'

Nautical Tallboy jumped up so quickly that the Robinsons guessed at once that he had been awake all the time. ‘Yes, Mr Murder,' said he. ‘Certainly, Mr Murder.' He advanced sedately—a short, square-headed little man with red hair and mild china-blue eyes. He was a good deal younger than Bill Murder, and he was dressed more neatly, in a black suit and a white stiff collar of the kind that fastens at the back. He bowed to the company.

‘You're prisoners, you two,' announced Rex. ‘And as we can't tie you up you'll have to march ahead while I keep you covered with my gun. Have you any arms on you, apart from the daggers I see at your belts?'

‘Nothing at all,' sighed Bill Murder.

‘Hadn't we better search them?' suggested Guy. ‘I believe it's the usual thing.'

‘Yes, we'd better. Hands up, Mr Tallboy, while my brother searches you.'

‘Would you doubt my word?' asked Nautical Tallboy in a sad, shocked voice. But he held up his hands all the same.

Guy, not much liking the job, stepped up to each pirate in turn and went through his pockets. The pockets were empty of weapons, but each pirate was discovered to have a third dagger hidden in one of his boots.

‘Found anything?' asked Rex.

‘Only six daggers,' Guy answered. He too wore a belt, having had the good luck to find one on the
Resmiranda,
and into this belt he stuck the six daggers. ‘Now we're all ready.'

‘Then march!' said Rex.

So they all set off at a brisk pace in the direction of Gunpowder Creek, the two pirates in front (and they made a strange pair, the one so tall, the other short and squat and scarcely reaching to his companion's shoulder), Rex and Guy next, keeping a sharp watch
on the prisoners, and Elizabeth and Martin last. They were by now ravenously hungry, and were delighted when they reached the grove of date-palms. The dates, though they went some way towards satisfying their hunger, made them still more thirsty; and at last Martin sank to the ground and declared that he couldn't go on. Elizabeth called a halt, and Guy, leaving Rex to guard the prisoners, ran back to see what was the matter. At that very moment an impudent monkey, perched high in a coconut tree, began maliciously shaking the branches. One, two, three coconuts fell.

‘Look!' cried Guy, in delight. ‘Coconuts! Just what we want! One more, please, Mr Monkey!'

The obliging monkey, screeching and grinning, shook the branch again, and so furiously that the children were hard put to it to dodge the rain of nuts that fell. As soon as the storm was over, Guy made haste to collect them; then, with his jack-knife, he made a hole in one of them and gave it to Martin. ‘There's a drink for you, and now I'll do one for you, Elizabeth!' When all three had partially quenched their thirst, Guy took an armful of coconuts to Rex and the two pirates. Rex was ready enough, but the pirates shook their heads, the one with a wistful smile, the other with the strange remark: ‘What isn't good enough for Mr Murder isn't good enough for me. His taste is impeccable.'

Nobody knew what impeccable meant, and nobody cared. The march was at once resumed, the Robinsons
feeling very much the better for their little meal. Elizabeth especially was very happy indeed, for all about her she could see—and hear—her dream coming true. That first sight of the little
Resmiranda,
you will remember, set her dreaming first of a long voyage and then of a gorgeous tropical forest, in which monkeys disported and panthers lurked and scarlet parrots screamed. And now all this—all except the panthers, which she wasn't eager for at the moment—was happening. She was dazzled and delighted by the brilliant plumage of the birds that sang and squawked in the trees; and as for the noise, it was like being in the parrot-house at the Zoo. Even the discomfort of having, at times, to scramble through tangled and thorny undergrowth, even the anxiety of not being quite sure they were going in the right direction, even the almost suffocating heat which, as morning wore on, the broad leaves of the mango trees could not altogether protect them from—even these things failed to diminish Elizabeth's pleasure in an adventure which was turning out in just the way her reverie had planned it, yet with all manner of surprising differences, all manner of fascinating details, that she hadn't thought of or counted on. These two pirates, for instance: nobody had expected them, and though at present they seemed very mild, Elizabeth was inclined to think there was a good deal of real wickedness in them, waiting its chance to come out.

At last, to her great joy, she heard Rex shout: ‘The
sea!' And there, sure enough, it was, a triangle of blue in the distance. In a little while they reached Gunpowder Creek, where they found the longboat just as they had left it. The stores—drinking water, biscuits, ammunition, tools—were untouched. But there was no Fandy. Martin was speechless with grief, and the others thought it best to pretend that they had forgotten about the poor cat altogether. Elizabeth bustled a bit, to take Martin's mind off his troubles. ‘You must carry a spade,' she said severely. ‘I'm sure you're big enough for that.' She herself took another. ‘We shall need these to dig up the treasure with,' she reminded him. ‘Think of that huge cake of ours, Martin. Won't it be lovely?'

‘And now for the log-cabin,' said Rex. ‘You pirates have got to carry the two barrels for us,' he added.

‘Would you wish me to carry a barrel for the children, Mr Murder?' asked Nautical Tallboy in his prim fashion.

‘Yes
and
No,' replied the elder pirate, after a moment's deliberation. ‘On the one hand, it don't altogether consort with our dignity as bloodthirsty pirates that we should do the bidding of a brace of boys. On the other hand, it's always a pleasure to the likes of us to oblige a lady, ain't it, Nautical? In a situation of this calibre I always puts to myself the simple question: what would Blackheart do if he was here? Which he ain't, as I see it on the tip of your tongue to remark, Nautical. But if so be that he
was
here, just for the sake of argy-bargy, what would he do? Well, on the one hand he'd say…'

‘Begging your pardon, Mr Murder,' interposed Nautical Tallboy, ‘the Captain would not
say
very much. I doubt, Mr Murder, whether he would say anything at all. What he would do is this.' Nautical Tallboy paused to gaze sadly, reproachfully, at each of the children in turn. ‘He would cut each of these children into one hundred and twenty-five pieces.'

‘…but on the other hand,' continued Bill Murder, who, taking no notice of the interruption, had not for a moment stopped talking, ‘we mustn't forget that the Captain…'

‘March!' shouted Rex and Guy. Rex brandished his gun; Guy gave the pirate a gentle dig with his spade, and the procession started again. ‘And if you drop the water barrel, or play any tricks,' said Guy, ‘you'll be the first to go thirsty, Mr Murder.'

After they had been walking for a few minutes Martin asked: ‘Is it far, Elizabeth?'

‘Do you mean the log-cabin? No, it can't be very far. Though, of course, I'm not absolutely sure it's there at all.'

‘But we put it in the map, didn't we?'

Before Elizabeth had time to answer—

‘Hooray!' cried Rex.

‘Hooray!' cried Guy.

And Elizabeth and Martin ran forward with whoops of joy. ‘Hooray! Hooray!'

There was the log-cabin, not a hundred yards distant. It was a low-roofed building, very roughly constructed, with a tree at each of the four corners forming the corner-post. There was no chimney visible, and no sort of window or door, and it all looked very new, as though it had been hastily constructed and left half unfinished.

‘Why, it might have been built yesterday,' said Guy, ‘by the look of it.'

‘Perhaps it was,' said Elizabeth thoughtfully.

‘What on earth do you mean?'

Elizabeth shook her head. ‘I don't know. Anyhow, I'm glad we've got to it at last. It's the treasure's turn next.'

The log-cabin was indeed a very ramshackle affair, as the Robinsons soon found. It measured eighteen feet long (but they were Guy's feet, you must remember) by ten feet wide, at its longest and widest; but it was not quite rectangular because the builder, whoever he was, had been anxious to take advantage of four stout trees that happened to be growing at a convenient distance from each other. The walls consisted of slim tree-trunks, straight as poles, which had been driven into the ground at intervals of from twelve to eighteen inches. There was no need for a door, for many of the gaps were big enough for even a man to get through. Four rough-hewn beams, from which hung tatters of green resinous bark, supported a tarpaulin roof, which was just high enough to let Rex stand upright. The floor was sandy soil, with a tuft of grass growing here and there; and the place was quite empty, showing no signs of previous habitation.