by Cylin Busby
“I’ve a mind to put you overboard!” Moses finally yelled, sitting up. I mewed, as best I could with a dry mouth, and stood at attention at starboard, showing him what I had seen. Moses rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked out over the sea. He blinked once, twice, then rubbed his eyes again. “My heavens, Chip! Wake and have a look!”
Chippy grumbled and sat up a bit, licking his lips. “What’s the bother?”
Now, as I watched, something new appeared: a shadow loomed in the moonlight, just beyond the white-crested breakers, a big, dark mound rising out of the water.
“It’s not a bother; it’s land. Land ho! Land ho! And Jacob here has found it!”
It took only a little effort on the part of the two able-bodied men aboard to bring our little vessel onto the beach of the island; the tide and waves had strength of their own and pulled us into a safe and cozy cove in the early-morning hours.
“Captain, wake and have a look!” Moses whispered into his ear as the island loomed over us. It was like one big green hill, surrounded at the bottom by black rocks, the shape of the hill soft and rounded, like a cat arching his back.
“Aye.” The captain opened his eye just a squint. “I knew there were islands near here. You’ve done it, lads.”
I now understood why the captain had been steering us this way, to the doubts of even Moses—perhaps he knew that a trade vessel would not be along, and had directed us to the islands instead. It didn’t matter now—we were saved!
Our longboat dashed through the breakers that surrounded the island, taking each with higher and higher lifts, crashing down in the sea spray, until at last we were plopped down in the gentle waves of a still and quiet cove of bright green water, just beyond the reef. The men used oars and pushed us into land, Chippy jumping out as soon as the boat was near enough to pull us in.
Moses, too, leapt from the boat, balancing carefully on his peg, and put his face down to the black rocks of the shore, which seemed to come straight up from under the ocean waves. The men laughed and hugged each other, dancing a jig as best they could on the uneven ground. I put my paws over the edge of the stern and tried to climb out.
“Here you are, mate.” Moses grabbed me under my middle and plopped me down onto the small rocks. He and Chippy turned to the captain, lifting him carefully out of the boat.
I tried to walk but found that the rocks moved beneath my paws in a most unusual way, shifting from under me as if they were more water. I wobbled and tumbled forward, face-first. At least the rocks here were smooth and battered by the sea, not rough and jagged like those under our boat as we came into the island.
“Our wee kitty has no land legs!” Moses laughed, looking over at me as he and Chippy carefully placed the captain down.
“A rocky shore as this can take some getting used to,” Chippy agreed, slipping off his boots and putting his bare feet down on the black rocks. “But I could certainly get used to it!”
“Aye.” Moses smiled. He picked me up, saving me from falling again, and put me over his thin shoulder. “Come with me, lad, and we’ll have a look for some flat earth and water to drink.”
“I’ll stay with the good captain,” Chippy agreed, “and pull up the boat.” He went down to the water and tugged our longboat higher onto the shore, securing it with a rope and a nearby rock.
Moses turned toward the greenery that bordered the cove, and took me with him. I looked out over his shoulder at the surroundings. I had never been on land—born on a boat and always on one—until this point in my life, so I knew little of the things around me. As Moses moved farther from the black rocks of the beach and into the thick foliage that bordered it, green leaves brushed my face, and I batted at them with my paws, unsure if they were friend or foe. As the morning sun began to rise, it lit up the plants and short trees of the island. I’d never seen such colors—stalks of bright green, flowers and leaves of every variety, reds and yellows flashed by. The smells were divine: the scent of the fresh sea air mingled with the sweet pollen of the petals around us.
“Ah, it’s heaven, it is, Mr. Tibbs.” Moses ran a hand over my back and headed straight inland, as if he knew right where his destination was. “With a hill of this size, there should be water nearby, funneled down from up high.”
Moses tromped through the vegetation as it grew thicker; the plants became small tree trunks and then vines. He took out his knife and cut away at some of the large palm leaves and stringy vines that blocked our path. “We’re getting close; I can feel it in me bones,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. I held on tightly with my paws, putting my claws into his shirt. I was still unsure of this new place called “land,” and I didn’t quite want to be put down yet. Besides, from the vantage point of Moses’s shoulder, I could see everything to my liking.
Moses cut away at a thick vine, then stopped in his tracks for a moment. He knelt down to the ground and put his fingers out to touch a small reddish-green plant. I slid down from his shoulder and put my paws to the ground, which was very different from the rocks of the shore, more solid and covered with soft leaves. I preferred it.
I paced for a moment, sniffing at the strange things around me, while Moses inspected his plant. I tipped my nose up at the air, filled with scents I didn’t recognize. I couldn’t tell if they were animal or vegetable, but none of them were unpleasant. Moses picked a few leaves of the plant and tucked them into his shirt pocket. “Come, lad.” He called me with a quick whistle, and started back into the greenery. I followed close at his boot heels, wishing to be picked up again. It wasn’t long before the ground beneath my feet began to feel sticky, then wet. I meowed to Moses to slow down as my paws came up muddy, but he kept moving forward, more urgently now, leaving me in his wake as he pushed through big green fern leaves.
“There she is! Just as I thought!” Moses pushed aside a palm leaf and crouched down to me. “A sight for sore eyes.” In front of us loomed the big green hill that we had seen from the boat, only now it did not look quite so soft and round but was surrounded by jagged black rocks that led up onto a thickly covered steep mountain. Down one side a flow of water tumbled—not much, but to sailors who had been without fresh water for so many days, it looked like a river from heaven!
Moses raced ahead to the small stream that lay at our feet. He knelt down and put his face into the water; I followed him, lapping up the cold, clean stream. The water tasted so wonderful, not like the inside of a leather boot or an old hat, so fresh and crisp. It was the best water I’d had in my young life. We both drank, silently, for a long time before Moses spoke. “The nectar of the gods, that—better than a bottle of rum from the islands!” He pulled his leather bag from over his shoulder and rinsed it in the water before filling it to overflowing.
“Now let’s take this back to the captain and to Chippy.” He patted his shoulder, and I leapt up, pushing my whiskers against his face and purring my pleasure at having a wet nose yet again. When we returned to the shore, the sun was over the island, and I expected it would be eight bells on the ship. Chippy had carried the captain to the greenery, off the rocks, and propped him sitting up on a pile of clothes—Moses’s greatcoat and, I saw with great sadness, Sean’s old shirt and trousers.
Moses tossed Chippy the leather pouch filled with water, and the man caught it with a bigger grin than I’d ever seen on his face. He snapped the lid and drank deeply before turning to the captain to rouse him. “Sir, a bit of the drink for you—as fresh as you’re likely to find.” He held the pouch to the captain’s mouth and helped him to take it in.
The fresh water seemed to do the captain worlds of good, as did being on solid land. Later in the day he opened his eyes and really seemed to take in his surroundings. It was then that he noted the absence of a crew member, and he asked after Sean, only to be told the terrible truth. He quickly closed his eyes and returned to his fitful sleep, as if unable to face the reality.
Before the heat of the day could bear down on us, the men found a serie
s of sticks in the green area and used those to prop up the longboat overturned, and so we had a makeshift shelter, or at the very least a bit of shade over our heads. Moses collected some of the larger palm leaves and put them down as a mat over the ground to soften our floor, but I still found that I could feel the bumps beneath me when I tried to lie down for a nap next to the captain.
Moses and Chippy hunted for food and were terribly pleased to find a greenish-blue shelled creature living under the larger rocks of the beach. Chippy heaved over a rock, and Moses jabbed at the creature with a spear he had fashioned, which was just a long stick with his small pocketknife secured to one end. When they had a collection of the small monsters, which looked more like big spiders than food to me, they lit a beach fire with their flint rock and some dried plants. Then they roasted the creatures on long sticks until their shells turned bright red, and cracked them open as if they were nuts and ate the meat inside.
I’ve learned since that this shelled creature is quite a delicacy—one that I’ve been served only a number of times since our days on the island. To be completely honest, I didn’t have much taste for it then, nor do I now—the meat has a rubbery texture and lack of flavor that I find unappealing. I far prefer fish of any kind—even a few days old. But, at the time, with food scarce and my growing body demanding more, I ate what was given to me and savored every bite. I also took great pleasure in joining my mates for hunting the shelled creatures, chasing them across the rocky beach if they escaped Moses’s crafted spear. They had an odd way of moving quickly that followed no reason as they skittered to the side across the rocks. Yet they could leap with great speed and snapped viciously with their large front claws when I came near.
By our first afternoon on the island, we had captured a whole pile of the shelled creatures. And by evening, we had eaten so many of them and drunk so much water, I thought my stomach might burst. I lay by the captain for a quick nap, but Moses had other plans.
“I believe I’ve seen this herb before,” he told Chippy, pulling the reddish leaves from his pocket. He ripped one of the leaves in half and smelled it. “Looks a bit different, but I’d barter it’s the same as what I’ve seen on the Verde Islands.”
Chippy was still finishing up his crab feast, licking his fingers and drinking from the leather pouch. “What of it?” he growled, obviously uninterested.
“Used to make a medicine, from what I remember. Those are long-ago times for me, but if I’m right…” He looked over at the captain, who now lay with his eyes closed again, his face pale and waxy.
“Worth a try, mate,” Chippy said quietly. “But I’ll be right surprised if a leaf can make him well again.”
Moses went down to the waves, and I followed along behind him, watching as he scooped up a handful of seawater. While the sun set spectacularly over the island, casting a red glow over everything, he pounded the leaves between two black rocks with a splash of water. When he was done, we went back up to the fire, me scrabbling over the black rocks just like one of the green crabs. Moses put the mixture on a rock near the fire and let it heat until it was a warm paste. Then, in the last crimson light of the day, he unwrapped the captain’s leg—the dressing for which had not been changed during our time in the longboat.
I heard Moses pull in a breath through gritted teeth, and I came around him, rubbing my fur along his side. The sight of the captain’s leg was a horrible thing—from the knee down, it was black with a large, ugly wound.
Moses looked down at the tincture he had created for the captain’s festering leg, and I saw his face tighten. I sniffed at the stuff on the rock, then looked up at him. I meowed to snap him from his thoughts, which I knew were dark. “Let’s give it a go then, shall we?” he said quietly. I watched him spread the warm paste over the worst of the captain’s wound, also moving up and around the entire leg.
The captain opened his eyes but did not look to be in pain. I moved to his side so he could pet me and rubbed against him, purring, hoping to distract him from looking down at what had become of his once-strong body.
“I’ve seen this used before, when I traveled under another captain,” Moses explained. My mind went to the memory of a night in the galley, the men talking about a cruel ship Moses had worked on. Was it there that he learned the magic of these herbs and leaves? “It may do you some good.”
“You have my thanks, Mr. Moses,” the captain said, his voice dry. “My deepest thanks. I fear that this”—he stopped and motioned around him at the island—“all of this is my doing, and for that I am gravely sorry.”
“Heal, Captain, and all will be well.”
The captain’s eyes were watery. “And what of Sean, and the souls still aboard the Melissa Rae? It cannot be worth one man’s life to lose so many others.” He closed his eyes again and let out a sigh as Moses rewrapped his leg in a piece of cloth torn from his own greatcoat.
“When you have done right, Providence smiles upon you,” Moses said quietly. “And when you have done wrong, woe unto you.” He laid two hands over the wrapped wound and turned his head up to the stars, as if throwing a wish into the sky.
That first night I curled in beside the captain, but he did not stir. The sound of the waves kept me awake, as they crashed loudly on the shore, over and over again. And when the water pulled back into the sea, it took rocks with it, which rumbled over each other and created a terrible racket. I saw, in the darkness, things moving down on the beach, small creatures making their way to and fro across the rocks. I was not used to being around other creatures—save for rats—and I did not care for the mysterious shadows. But when I closed my eyes, a vision was there, of the captain’s leg and the dark hollow spot, so I kept my eyes open. If he was lost to us now, all of this—being put out in the longboat, Sean’s death, our near starvation—would be for naught. So, as Moses said, he would have to live, and be well.
Perhaps it was the fresh water and island fruits, or the roasted crab, but by the middle of the next day, the captain looked somewhat better. His eyes took on a brightness that had been absent for weeks. He stayed awake for more than an hour and made conversation with the men. I sat next to him, my paws out in front of me, eyes closed, just soaking in the island sun and listening to their talk until I felt confident he was in good hands. Then I stretched, arched my back, and, after receiving a quick scratch behind the ears from Moses, went off to explore the island.
At first I was careful to follow the same path that Moses and I had taken into the greenery the day previous—our steps were still laid flat, for the most part. And as I went, I could hear the voices of the men close behind me. But now I could inspect everything with thorough care, as I had not had the time to do yesterday. One shiny green plant that grew close to the ground had spikes like pointy teeth coming out of its leaves—I discovered this too late, as I was poked in the nose by a needle. I wanted very much to claw it to bits, but I held my temper, as I was sure I could do without the needles lodged in my paws and fur.
I slowly made my way to the stream, finding odd beetles and insects of all sorts along the way. Some were quite large—the beetles with hard, brightly colored shells were almost the size of my paw. When I tried to play with them, they opened their backs into two wings and lazily flew off, up high into the plants. Most of the plants on the island could not support my weight; their stalks were green and not strong enough. But a few, the trees that bore fruit, were easy to climb when I dug my nails into their bark—they were just like the masts on the Melissa Rae.
Whenever I thought of the ship, my stomach took on a queasy feeling, and I tried to quickly banish the memory. Still, picturing my calico bed, the last thing of my mother’s that I had, now stuffed behind the stove on a ship that was far from me, made my heart ache. I climbed up one small tree and held on to a branch at a height where I could see out over the ocean, to the breakers that crested white on the rocky reef beyond our beach. I watched for a long time, perhaps hoping to see Sean’s red hair rise above the waves. I
told myself not to hope, but there was a little part of me that thought there was a chance he had survived, perhaps washed up on an island like this one. I wanted to imagine it could be so. I also kept my eyes open for ships, as the men had said there was possibility of that as well.
After taking a long drink from the cold stream, I heard a welcome sound: the captain’s whistle. He was calling for me! I returned to the beach and to my mates, who had kept themselves very busy at different tasks. Chippy was cooking a thick paste, made from the white, sticky juice of the palm plants, over the fire. This “glue” would be used in repairing any small holes in our longboat. The captain was still in the same spot but was now sitting up and picking oakum from our small stretch of rope, perhaps for the same repairs.
“There’s our young man!” he said when he saw me. I noted that he and Chippy had bathed and both removed the bushy hair from their faces, though why, I do not know, as I found it suited them nicely.
I looked about for Moses and saw his small, stooped form down at the rocks, hunting for crab. I joined him there and at once realized that I had been wrong: he was not looking for crabs—he was fishing! He had fashioned a trap by tying a bit of crabmeat to a string for bait and stood out on a large black rock, dangling it into the water below.
“Shush you, Jacob, not a sound,” he whispered to me. “Don’t scare off our lunch.” I stood back in the shadow of his legs and watched as small, silvery fish circled the bait. If they had not been under the water, I would’ve leapt on them in a wink! Their sparkle in the sunlight and quick movements drove me mad, and I soon found myself pacing the rock, my mouth watering at the sight.
“Jacob, go on now.” Moses pushed at me with his foot. “No fish will come to bait with a creature such as you looming over them!”
I reluctantly went back to the beach, taking my time to inspect overturned rocks and smelling the crabs that had recently been there. Just as I was about to catch a sea beetle in my claws, Moses yelled out. I looked over to see him holding his makeshift rod up over his head, a good-sized silver fish hanging from it.