Worse Things Happen at Sea!

by Alan Snow

  Marjorie gave him a few drops of its contents on a spoon.

  “It tastes like violets.”

  As the taste spread over his tongue, he felt a tingling in his body, and the odd craving that had been occupying Arthur’s mind seemed to just slip away.

  “Now go and tell the others to get down here.”

  Small groups of his friends disappeared below deck and returned looking happier.

  As the last of the five sacks went in the boiler, Kipper asked Snatcher what to do.

  “Burn another sack! We need to go faster. And by the way, would it be just as quick to get to somewhere like Camembert in France as Ratbridge?”

  “No, Camembert is inland.”

  “Well, just get on with the stoking and head for England.”

  “And when we finish that sack?”

  “Burn some more! Just get us back to Ratbridge as fast as you can.”

  Kipper smiled to himself. Snatcher had been given his own medicine and now didn’t care if all the seeds got burned.

  “Stoke the boilers and full steam ahead!”

  It took only a few more sacks until they were clear of the doldrums, but Snatcher ordered more seeds to be burned. He and his mob were so infected with the fumes of the seeds that cheese plagued their every waking moment. All that drove them now was the idea of cheese, and the only place they could think that they could get hold of some was the woods around Ratbridge.

  Fish moved to the stern deck with Kipper because Snatcher wanted to be closer to home and took the place on the bow.

  Then as the last sack became empty, they reached home waters.

  Snatcher came aft and spoke. “I want you to anchor off Weston-super-mare. It’s a town down the coast from Bristol.”

  “I know it,” said Kipper. “My mum used to drag me there when I was a kid. Why do you want to stop there?”

  “Never you mind. Just get us there.”

  As the sun rose the following morning, the anchor was dropped. They were about a mile from the coast, but the water was very shallow.

  Snatcher ordered his men to lock the crew below. “We don’t want any interference while we get on with me plan.”

  Arthur and the others sat in their hammocks.

  “What is he up to?”

  “No good, I’m sure, but at least he’s not got any seeds left.”

  Then there was a bump and the ship became still.

  “What’s happened?”

  “The tide must have gone out. We must be on the sand.”

  There seemed to be a lot of activity above them, and then it went quiet. After a few more hours the ship seemed to be floating again, but apart from the sound of water, there was little other noise.

  “What do we do now?”

  “I think they have deserted us. It’s probably the time to escape from here.”

  “How do we do that?”

  Fish took a crowbar from under his box and handed it to Kipper. Kipper pushed the end of it into the crack at the edge of the hatch and pushed.

  There was a crack and the hatch popped open. Everyone rushed up on deck. Willbury was right. Snatcher and his men had gone . . . and so had all the bits of the monster.

  Fish took a crowbar from under his box.

  “Attack of the seventy-foot monster! Read all about it!”

  chapter 41

  BRISTOL

  With Snatcher and his men out of the way, and a following wind, it only took a few hours for the ship to reach Bristol. A pilot came out to meet them and guide them back up the river. As they came to the dock, they put in to buy some coal for the boiler, as there was now almost nothing onboard left to burn. As they tied up, Arthur heard a boy crying out:

  “Evening post, evening post! Read all about it. Attack of the seventy-foot monster! Read all about it!”

  Arthur rushed down the gangplank, bought a paper, and started to read.

  SOMERSET VILLAGE ATTACKED BY HUGE MONSTER!

  This afternoon word arrived that the village of Cheddar was attacked by a seventy-foot-tall monster. The village is the last resting home of the cave-dwelling Cheddar cheeses, and these seemed to be the target. As the monster attacked and tried to gain entrance to the caves, the cheeses made off down the tunnels deep into the bowels of the earth. Denied its quarry, the monster made off in a northeasterly direction. Unconfirmed sightings of the monster were also made at Weston. Witnesses claim the monster emerged from the sea at low tide.

  Arthur finished reading and ran back onto the ship.

  “Quick. Snatcher is on the rampage. We have to get back to Ratbridge.”

  Quickly they cast off again and headed up river toward the canal. Tom and Bert took up position in the crow’s nest with the telescope and scanned the countryside for any signs of a monster.

  Tom and Bert took up position in the crow’s nest.

  Arthur stood on the bow with Fish and, when they reached the canal, helped operate the lock gates. It was another half an hour before there was a cry from Bert.

  “There she blows! Monster at twenty-five degrees to port.” They all looked out over the port bow.

  Over the tops of some trees in the distance they saw the shape of the monster’s head.

  “It’s heading for Ratbridge!” shouted Bert.

  They saw the shape of the monster’s head.

  “IT’S A BLOOMING MONSTER AND IT’S COMING THIS WAY!”

  chapter 42

  CHEEZILLA!

  The Ratbridge police now spent every afternoon patroling the town walls and keeping an eye out for cheese-crazed inhabitants planning a break to satisfy their lust. If they’d only needed to guard the gates, it would have been easy, but now the cheese-crazed inhabitants had taken to using ropes and ladders to escape over the walls as the sun set in a desperate attempt to get to the woods to hunt the remaining cheeses.

  Constable Grunt was brewing up tea for his patrol and emptying the last brew’s tea leaves over the wall when he happened to look across to the wood. In the distance over the trees he could vaguely make out something moving.

  “What do you reckon that is?” he asked a fellow officer.

  “Not sure. Maybe . . .” His friend scratched his head and looked perplexed. “I don’t know.”

  “It seems to be getting bigger.”

  “Or closer?”

  “What shall we do?”

  “Eeeer . . . Blow your whistle?”

  Grunt did as suggested, and from along the wall the police came to see what was up. Soon they all stood watching the “thing” moving through the trees.

  Inside the wall those with the craving who were watching the police for a chance to escape from the town started to climb the unguarded parts of the wall. Ladders appeared, and bodies could soon be seen mounting the wall and dropping ropes over the outside. But before anyone had managed to actually escape, one of the policemen who had better sight than the others spoke.

  “It’s a blooming monster.”

  “A what!”

  “IT’S A BLOOMING MONSTER AND IT’S COMING THIS WAY!”

  “My Gud! What about them what’s guarding the swamp? It’s nearly out of the woods and then it will be on them!”

  “Everybody blow your whistle to warn them!”

  As the monster broke from the woods, the policemen surrounding the swamp heard the noise from the town walls and then turned to see the huge creature. They did what was natural and ran away screaming.

  Across the town word traveled that there was something coming, and people flocked to the walls to get a look. But as they crammed the walls, they saw how huge and dangerous it looked and everybody started to scream.

  The ship, fueled with coal, made fast progress up the canal and was in clear sight of the town when the monster broke from the woods.

  “Stop the engine!” Bert cried from the crow’s nest.

  Everyone aboard rushed to the rail to watch as the mighty beast began lurching toward the nearby swamp.

  “What’s he going
to do now?” Kipper asked.

  “Heaven knows, with Snatcher crazed with the cheese lust,” answered Willbury.

  “I reckon he’ll try to snap up any last remaining cheeses and then turn on the town,” said Bert.

  “So what do we do?” asked Kipper. Everybody thought hard, but it was Arthur that spoke first.

  “Use his cheese lust,” suggested Arthur tentatively.

  “What do you mean?” asked Kipper.

  “Well, he wants cheese desperately and we need to slip him some of the antidote before he devours the last of the cheese or destroys the town while he’s crazed. Can’t we combine the two?”

  “But how?”

  “Make a fake cheese filled with the antidote.”

  Kipper smiled. “I get it. We bamboozle him with a cheese. But how do we get it in front of him?”

  “Cheeses have legs, don’t they? One of us is inside the cheese,” offered Arthur.

  “But wouldn’t that be putting whoever is inside the cheese in terrible danger?”

  “We make sure they have an escape,” Arthur replied. “And choose the fastest runner to be the cheese.”

  “But how do we make a cheese?”

  Arthur looked thoughtful. “For the smell socks might work. Have you never noticed the stench that dirty ones make?”

  “For the smell socks might work.”

  “And boy, do we ever have some dirty socks,” said Kipper enthusiastically.

  “I reckon I could mold a cheesy body with sock smell and the antidote pretty easily in the galley,” Bert offered.

  “Well, then. It might just work,” Tom replied, chuckling.

  “Great. But who’s the fastest runner?” asked Marjorie.

  “Us rats are pretty fast,” Tom boasted.

  “Not that fast, really. Your legs are pretty short. I think in an open space a human could run faster,” replied Kipper.

  “I’ll do it,” said Arthur. “I can run fast, and it was my idea.”

  Willbury looked very concerned. “It is too dangerous. There is a real danger of being eaten. Besides, your legs are not that long.”

  “And imagine what the smell would be like,” added Bert. “It might make you pass out.”

  “Anybody got a better idea?” asked Arthur.

  No one had.

  Arthur looked about. “Well, then, we have to do something and fast. It may be our only way to save the real cheeses and Ratbridge.”

  “Arthur is right. So how do we choose who is going to be our cheese?” asked Kipper.

  “A race. We could have a race up the deck,” suggested Bert.

  Willbury looked at Arthur. “I really don’t want you involved in this.”

  Arthur smiled back. “This is about who is fastest and can do the job best. It has to be the fastest runner. Anyway, I think you need to give me a chance to be useful. Remember that you didn’t want me to come on this voyage at all. Where would you all be now if I hadn’t stowed away?”

  “That’s true. But hopefully you won’t win.”

  “A race from one end of the deck to the other it is, then,” said Bert.

  Even though it was going to be a very dangerous mission, everyone crowded to the fore end of the deck, and Willbury set them off with a count of three.

  By the time Arthur had reached halfway along the deck, Fish was in the lead, just a few paces ahead.

  I know I can do this, Arthur thought as he pushed himself as hard as he could and began to catch up with the boxtroll.

  Fish was in the lead.

  He gritted his teeth and pumped his legs as hard as he could, and then as the side of the ship came closer, he reached out with his hand and stretched.

  “ARTHUR’S WON!”

  His friends crowded around him. They looked pleased for him—but very concerned, too.

  “Well done! But I’ll go if you don’t want to,” offered Kipper.

  “I think that would be best,” said Willbury—but then he bowed his head in resignation as Arthur looked him in the eye and spoke very firmly.

  “I am the fastest and I think that I can do the job. Let’s get ready. Time to make our cheese substitute!”

  Bert quickly took charge of making the “cheese.” First he got everybody to put every dirty sock they could find in the biggest saucepan they had. He added water, and then after a good stir he strained off the liquid into another pan and added flour and some yellow ointment that they used to rub on scuffed knees.

  “And, of course, our secret ingredient!”

  Fish reached inside his box and pulled out the glowing blue bottle. Bert took it and tipped its contents into the mixture. After a bit of a stir it became much thicker and looked like bright yellow dough.

  Bert took it and tipped its contents into the mixture.

  “Still a bit soggy. How are we going to get it to stick to Arthur?”

  “I have some glue that goes hard after ten minutes. We could mix that in?” suggested Marjorie.

  “Very well. We’ll use that. If we cut two holes in the bottom of a barrel, we can put Arthur’s legs through them and use it as a mold. Arthur, strip down to your underpants, and then we will cover you in grease.”

  While Marjorie fetched the quick-setting glue, Arthur was readied and two holes were cut in the bottom of a barrel.

  Then Arthur was lowered into the barrel, leaving him with his legs sticking out of the bottom and his head out of the top.

  The reality of the situation began to dawn on Arthur. Yes, he had won the race, but would he really be fast enough to outrun the monster? Maybe Willbury was right—maybe he really would get eaten. . . . But it was too late for doubts now.

  “Are you ready?” Bert asked.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The glue was tipped into the dough mixture and stirred in.

  “You’d better be quick or it will go hard in the pan.”

  “Okay!”

  The foul-smelling mixture was tipped into the barrel around Arthur. It felt warm around his belly as the mixture hardened. After a couple of minutes the mixture stiffened and Bert declared it ready.

  “Take the barrel apart!” Bert instructed, and the metal hoops were knocked loose and slid off. The barrel fell apart, leaving Arthur standing on the deck looking like . . . an enormous cheese.

  “Perfect! Not only does he look like a cheese, but he also smells like one.”

  The foul-smelling mixture was tipped into the barrel around Arthur.

  Arthur’s arms were free above his new cheese body, so he was able to hold his nose.

  “So what happens now?” asked Willbury in a worried tone.

  “Arthur lures the monster away from the real cheeses in the woods,” replied Bert

  “But where to?” Willbury seemed increasingly worried.

  “If we dig a hole in the ground, I could slip out of the costume into it,” suggested Arthur.

  Arthur looking like an enormous cheese.

  “I guess we need to dig the hole, then?” said Kipper.

  “Where?” Willbury was starting to panic. “This really is not a good idea.”

  “Don’t worry. Somewhere between the woods and the town so he doesn’t have to run too far,” answered Kipper. “Our Arthur can do it!”

  The sound of roaring rang out from the woods.

  “We’d better be quick! Grab a spade, Tom, and come with me!” shouted Kipper.

  The pirates jumped over the side and ran to a place not far from the town wall. There they quickly dug a hole a little taller than Arthur and just wide enough for his body.

  They quickly dug a hole.

  Arthur watched from the deck of the ship. He had been wrapped in oilskin to stop the smell from getting out too early. They didn’t want anything to happen before they were ready.

  Bert and Fish stood next to him.

  “What do you think I should do to attract them?”

  “I think you won’t have to worry too much. And we’ll help. You’ll just have to run
about a bit like a cheese until they get close.”

  Kipper and Tom returned.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” said a nervous Arthur.

  “You don’t have to do this! You can still back out.” Willbury was looking very pale, and Marjorie led him away from the crowd.

  Arthur looked about for a moment, with a worried expression on his face. Kipper put a hand on his shoulder.

  “He’s right. You don’t have to do this.”

  “No. I want to do it.”

  “Good lad!”

  The gangplank was lowered to the canal bank, and Arthur smiled at Kipper and his friends. “Well, let’s go, then!”

  “Are you ready?”

  Arthur stood waiting a few yards from the hole.

  chapter 43

  A CHEESY ENDING

  Arthur stood waiting a few yards from the hole. It seemed pointless and a bit embarrassing to start running about before anybody saw him, so he waited for the others to do their work.

  Half the crew went into the town. The other half headed toward the monster.

  Then it began.

  “Cheese! Cheese! A huge wild cheese!” All over town the cry rang out. Heads popped out of windows.

  Heads popped out of windows.

  “Where’s the cheese? Where’s the cheese?”

  “Just outside the town wall. It’s huge!”

  The pirates’ cries were soon mixed with the sound of running footsteps.

  Across the fields the rest of the crew were in sight of the monster.

  “Cheese! Cheese! Cheese!” they shouted as they waved their arms to get noticed.

  Inside the head of the monster Snatcher’s ears heard the cry.

  “Who’s shouting that?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s coming from outside.”

  “It must be a trap. Why else would anybody be shouting cheese?”

  The eyes of the monster turned to the shouting crew, who then pointed toward a small shape just outside the town walls. The monster looked up and saw the shape.