by Alan Snow
There was a swish, then a splat, and Lardwell’s prominent nose was hidden under a thick coating of goo.
“Next!” called Snatcher.
Neptune’s mermaid was starting to enjoy this, and read off the next entry.
“‘Fingle. T.I.J.’ ”
“Ooo! Fingle. You bad lad! Can you guess what T.I.J. stands for?”
“No, but I promise I’ll not do it again if you let me off.”
“That may be so, but I still think you would benefit from the lesson. So . . . T.I.J.?”
Fingle just slowly shook his head.
“Tongue in jam!”
Fingle went white. “You are not going to put that stuff on my tongue, are you?”
“Fingle, you know the punishment has to fit the crime.”
Fingle made a bolt for the mast.
“Get him!” shouted Snatcher.
Fingle managed to reach the mast and shin up the first nine feet before the officers reached its base.
Fingle managed to reach the mast.
“Okay. Leave him,” said Snatcher, snorting. “He’ll have to come down . . . and when he does . . . mermaid, next on the list, please.”
Snatcher worked his way down the list, and all the officers apart from Fingle got their just comeuppance. Then Neptune retired happily to the captain’s cabin for a nightcap, and the crew were given the job of hosing down the punished. There was a pump used to clean out the bilges, and this was easily adapted for the purpose. Kipper took charge.
“Right, then. All of you who want a wash, hold on to the mast with your dirty bits pointed outward.”
The officers braced themselves, and Kipper had the best fifteen minutes of fun of his life, while the crew cheered and watched with glee. By the time the officers were clean, most had very few clothes remaining, and those clothes that did remain were in tatters.
Kipper had the best fifteen minutes of fun of his life.
“Shall I wash out the tub?” Kipper asked.
“I think it is Snatcher’s idea that we keep that back for Fingle. Just nail down a lid on it to keep the smell down,” Tom suggested.
A lid was made and it was decided to throw the broom over the side. A few hours later, dead fish could be found floating in the wake of the ship.
A few hours later, dead fish could be found floating in the wake of the ship.
Cheese Survival Threatened in Further Attacks
“After the recent appalling attacks there has been a noticeable decline in cheese numbers. If there are any more losses, our cheeses may not have a large enough breeding population to survive and they could become extinct!” reported Cuthbert Milk, chairman of the Ratbridge Wildlife Conservation Association.
This shocking revelation comes in the shadow of yet another outrage. Only last night police tried to arrest “Cheesy Crims” returning to the town after another dastardly attack. Unfortunately, the police were overpowered and the mob escaped.
These outrages must stop. This paper will now raise the reward for the capture of “Cheesy Crims” to one hundred groats.
Arthur put a leg over the edge of the barrel and lifted himself out.
chapter 22
THE NIGHT WATCH
Arthur and Fish had taken turns enjoying the entertainment, and now that things had quieted down, Arthur’s mind had turned to food. That morning they had finally run out of apples, and the ship’s biscuits that Tom had sneaked in to them were horrid.
“We have to get something else to eat.”
Outside, the crew on the night watch were busy, and Arthur was unable to catch anyone’s attention.
“Right, Fish. I think we are on our own.” After a quick look out of the hole Arthur lifted the lid and looked about. With ripped and sodden clothes, the officers who were supposed to be on guard were huddled by the boiler trying to keep warm.
Arthur put a leg over the edge of the barrel and lifted himself out. Fish followed.
“If we make our way round to the other side of the deck, we can get down the stairs and might be able to find something,” Arthur whispered.
They crept across the deck and made their way toward the steps leading to the deck below. As they reached the top of the steps, there was a sudden shout from somewhere above.
“Oi, down there. Someone is creeping about!” It was Fingle. He was still up the mast for fear of what might happen if he came down.
“Oi, down there. Someone is creeping about!”
The guards looked up but couldn’t see Arthur and Fish, as the beam engine was in the way.
“Where are they?”
“By the steps to the cabins.”
Arthur and Fish had stopped in their tracks.
“Quick, Fish. Back to the barrel.”
The officers jumped up and drew their blunderbusses.
“FIND THEM!”
A couple of officers ran to the top of the stairway and then turned back to catch the sight of Arthur and Fish running away. A few of the crew members on deck started moving to block the officers’ way, but in an instant guns were trained on them and they were ordered not to move.
Arthur reached the front end of the deck and could see there was nowhere to go apart from the forecastle. He and Fish ran up the steps. At the top he turned. The first of the guards was approaching the steps behind them, so he took a loose pulley block and threw it.
“Youch!”
“Youch!”
The officer stopped as the block bounced off his head. Then he made for the steps again. Arthur threw another block. Again it found its target and the officer pulled back.
“Get the crew below, and then I need you all over here to help me deal with this boy and his friend.”
The other officer did as he was told and, with the aid of his blunderbuss, marched the crew below and locked them in the bilges. Then he returned with reinforcements. Arthur could see that the net was closing in on him.
“What are we going to do?” he nervously asked Fish.
Fish gave no answer, so Arthur picked up another pulley block, and Fish followed his lead. Seeing them getting ready to throw, the officers ran and hid behind the trotting badger crate.
“You put those down, or we’ll fire!” came a shout from behind the crate.
Arthur and Fish looked at each other, then turned and threw the blocks as hard as they could in the direction of the shout, then dropped to the ground.
There was a loud crash, an outbreak of snarling from the trotting badgers, and a return of fire. After a few shots the firing stopped as the officers reloaded.
Arthur and Fish stood again, took careful aim, and threw two more blocks in the direction of the crate before diving for cover.
Again there was crashing from the direction of the crate, but this time it was followed by screams.
“Must have hit them!” Arthur smiled.
They waited for a few seconds for more gunfire, but the screams grew louder and shots didn’t come.
Arthur inched his way to the edge of the forecastle and looked over.
The blocks that Arthur and Fish had thrown had done their work but not in the way he had expected. The crate was shattered, and the officers were now fending off an attack from the vicious creatures. All the noise and excitement had wound the badgers to a new level of anger, and they were expressing this anger with their jaws.
A new level of anger.
The officers fought to escape and slowly managed to reach the door to the stairwell. The effect of them all trying to get through the door at the same time was a blockage.
The badgers saw their chance and pounced. Teeth sank again and again into flesh and tattered trouser. At the front of the blockage in the stairwell one man managed to loosen himself, and pulled free. This had a dramatic effect. Like a cork, the blockage popped out and Snatcher’s men tumbled down the stairs. The badgers stopped for a moment in surprise, then followed.
Then the badgers saw their chance and pounced.
The screaming heap now f
illed the corridor outside the captain’s cabin.
“Let us in,” screamed one of the officers.
The door opened, and Snatcher was knocked to the ground by the officers, who then scrambled over him. As he sat up, he saw the maddened trotting badgers careering along the corridor toward him. With a swift kick of the foot he slammed the door and pushed both of his feet against it. Then a great thump made the door shudder.
“Fetch the desk, blast you!” Snatcher screamed at his men.
Somewhere above, Arthur smiled at Fish.
“I think we’d better block off the top of the stairwell or those badgers will be able to get us.”
They rushed down and across the deck and threw shut the very heavy storm doors that closed off the stairwell. Then Arthur flipped the large iron latch across.
“That’s it! We trap the badgers, and the badgers trap Snatcher and his mob! Now what do we do?”
Fish gave a happy gurgle.
“Go and free the others?”
Fish nodded, and they made their way across the deck and down through the forward hatch to the crew deck.
At the end of the crew deck toward the stern was a doorway to the corridor where the badgers were trapped. Fortunately, it was closed. Arthur tiptoed toward it, listening to the awful sounds coming from the other side, then turned the key in the lock.
Then they opened the hatch to the bilges.
“Anybody want to go for a walk?”
The eyes of their friends stared up at them.
“Arthur. What has happened?”
“Anybody want to go for a walk?”
“Fish and I have sorted everything out. We’ve taken over the ship and locked Snatcher and his mob in the captain’s cabin. I hope you don’t mind.”
After a few seconds of stunned silence came a huge joyful shout.
“HOORAY!”
“Come on. I think it’s time for us to have our own equator party.”
It didn’t take long for the crew to make their way on deck and start celebrating their freedom.
“I don’t know how you did it, but I’m glad you’re here.” Arthur turned to see Willbury smiling at him and looking a little embarrassed.
“But you . . .”
“I was only thinking of your best interests.”
While the crew partied on deck, below, Snatcher and his men had managed to stack the desk and several large sea chests against the door. These now shook from the impact of the trotting badgers.
These now shook from the impact of the trotting badgers.
Snatcher looked about. “This could have gone better.”
“Pity we don’t have any Black Jollop to fix the wounds,” said the doctor.
“Yes. But even I wouldn’t poison my men with that stuff.”
“I wouldn’t poison my men with that stuff.”
Breakfast had been hardtack and a few small fish.
chapter 23
FREEDOM
“What are we going to do about Snatcher and his mob?” asked Tom the following morning. “And are we just going to turn around and go home now?”
“And what about food?” added Kipper. Breakfast had been hardtack and a few small fish that the crew had managed to catch over the side.
“I think we might be able to do some negotiation on the food front,” replied Marjorie. “They’re going to be stuck in that cabin until we help them out, so I think we hold most of the cards.”
“Yes, I wonder what they’ll be prepared to pay for removal of the trotting badgers?” Kipper giggled.
“I don’t think totally removing the trotting badgers is our best bet,” Bert said, smirking. “I think that just removal of the immediate threat of a good chewing is enough to get us what we want.”
“Sounds like a good idea. Follow me!” Marjorie led the crew up onto the bridge and leaned over the stern.
With a boathook she knocked on the window of the captain’s cabin, and after a few seconds the window opened and Snatcher’s head popped out.
She knocked on the window of the captain’s cabin.
“Good morning!” Marjorie smiled.
“Get us out of here!” Snatcher yelled. “That is an order.”
“Pardon me,” said Marjorie. “What did you say?”
“I said get us out of here. AND THAT IS AN ORDER!” repeated Snatcher. “If you don’t, I shall have you all for mutiny!”
“I am very sorry,” apologized Marjorie. “But I am afraid we can’t hear you.”
The crew all laughed.
“Will you please get us out of here,” Snatcher asked, a little more politely.
“I don’t think we can,” said Bert. “The trotting badgers might attack us if we tried. And you wouldn’t want any of your crew injured, would you?”
“I just might . . . ,” muttered Snatcher under his breath. Then he spoke louder. “So what are you expecting us to do? Stay in here for the rest of the trip?”
“I should say that is a distinct possibility,” said Marjorie.
“Can’t you lower a rope ladder and let us climb out? Please?”
“That might also be dangerous. We wouldn’t want any of you falling in the sea,” said Marjorie. “I think it best for everybody if you stay where you are.”
“Blow you! Are you just going to leave us here? Those trotting badgers could break through any time.”
“Those trotting badgers could break through any time.”
“Well, I think things can be organized properly to stop that from happening,” replied Marjorie.
“How do you mean?” snapped Snatcher.
“Well, it would be very inconvenient for the captain to be stuck in the cabin during the rest of the trip. It might be better for him to be on deck with his crew.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more!” said Snatcher, looking a little happier.
“Well, as you agree, and are stuck down there, I suggest you appoint a new captain.”
“Blowed if I will!” Snatcher was furious at the suggestion.
“Well, without the correct orders the crew might not be able to help protect you from those vicious badgers,” Marjorie said with a smile.
“I will not be pushed around by a . . . WOMAN! Get me out of here at once!”
“I am sorry. I didn’t hear you.” Then Marjorie turned to the rest of the crew, who were watching. “Did any of you hear anything?”
The crew all shook their heads and laughed.
Arthur smiled and waved to his friends to come close. “I have an idea that might help.”
“What would that be?” asked Willbury.
“It’s a little bit naughty, but I think it’ll help Snatcher come round to our way of thinking.”
“Well, in the circumstances, anything ‘a little bit naughty’ might be all right. What is it?”
“Watch!” said Arthur. Then he crossed the stern deck and went down the steps to the locked doorway.
The crew watched as Arthur raised his fists and started banging them on the doors.
“WAKEY, WAKEY, badgers! WAKEY, WAKEY!”
“WAKEY, WAKEY, badgers!”
This seemed to do the trick. There was a flurry of snarling and banging from below deck, followed by screams of fear from the captain’s cabin.
The crew rushed back to the stern rail to see what would happen.
Snatcher’s head popped out of the cabin window, and he started yelling.
“Quick! They’re breaking through!”
“It will cost you.”
“What?”
There was some more banging and screaming from below, and Snatcher looked nervously back into the cabin.
“What do you want?”
“Half the food.”
“Never!”
“Half the food!”
“NO!”
“Well, then, enjoy yourselves with your furry little friends,” Kipper called down.
Snatcher looked panicked. “Okay, okay! But what do I get in return?”
&
nbsp; “How about some metal sheeting, a hammer, and nails?”
“Perfect! Lower it down quick and I’ll send up the food.”
“I think we both know who’s to be trusted around here,” said Marjorie. “You send up the food, and then we’ll send down the metal sheet and tools.”
“Okay! Okay! Just send down a rope.”
Marjorie leaned over and whispered in Kipper’s ear. “Tell Arthur to bang on the door some more.”
Marjorie spoke again as Kipper disappeared. “We need to sort out this captain thing.”
Snatcher was about to reply when the noise of badgers and screams started up again.
“Would you like to appoint my friend Tom as captain so he can get the rope organized?”
A nervous Snatcher nodded.
“All right, I appoint that rat Tom captain.”
A rope was lowered with a large net on the end, and very quickly the food was loaded. Then, as promised, a sheet of tin, some nails, and a hammer were sent down in exchange. While Snatcher and his mob nailed the metal up, the crew had their first good meal in days.
As they ate, they discussed what to do next. No one was quite sure; but soon they would have their minds made up for them.
Then, as promised, a sheet of tin, some nails, and a hammer were sent down in exchange.
Police Bring in Hounds to Catch Cheesy Crims
In an attempt to track down the perpetrators of the ongoing cheese outrages, a number of cheese hounds have been purchased from the Ratbridge Holiday Home for Cats and Dogs, and Economy Pie Company. The hounds are being used because they have a keen sense of smell and a strong desire for cheese. Already the dogs have helped to close the net on the Cheesy Crims. Yesterday afternoon seventeen people were arrested after the hounds tracked the scent to various addresses in the town.
In one surprising raid the Honorable Mr. Clifford Swage (Mayor of Ratbridge) was detained. This paper says, “Let justice be done. No one is above the law!”