“Queen Anne’s Mild Rebuttal?” asked Jack. “Is that this ship’s name?”
“It must be,” Neil said. He found his voice rising with his growing excitement, and he had to remind himself to keep it down. “It’s all coming together now... remember when I said there was something oddly familiar about the way the keeper put sticks of dynamite in his beard? Now I remember why... in the pirate books I’ve read, that was something the most famous pirate of all would do before entering battle, in order to frighten his enemies.”
“The most famous pirate of all? Do you seriously mean to tell me...” Jack trailed off.
Neil nodded in answer, his eyes bright with excitement. “That’s right, Jack. Black Beard.”
“Black Beard? Here? Now? What on earth are you talking about? Did you bonk your gourd on the way down the river?” asked Jack, examining his friend with renewed concern. “Have you gone off your rocker, Neil?”
“Not the Black Beard, of course. He would have to be hundreds of years old now, if he were still alive, and that’s just impossible. But remember how the keeper was going on about his famous ancestor? That must be who he was talking about. He’s right, too! He is the spitting image of him, from the pictures I’ve seen… Although I believe Black Beard only used the fuses in his hair and beard, not the actual dynamite,” Neil pointed out. “That seems a bit, uh... reckless. Even by my standards.”
“Hmm... I see,” Jack said. His eyes had grown bright with excitement as Neil had proposed his theory, and he began pacing alongside the dock. “And why did seeing this ship make you put all this together just now?”
“It’s the name that did it... Black Beard had several ships, but his most famous one, which was sunk, was called Queen Anne’s Revenge. This one is called Queen Anne’s Mild Rebuttal. There’s no way that’s a coincidence!”
“It doesn’t seem to have the same ring to it as Queen Anne’s Revenge,” Jack said thoughtfully, rubbing at his chin as he examined the docked vessel.
“Black Beard’s ship was massive, and it required a big crew to operate at sea. This thing is tiny by comparison. I’d imagine it must be some kind of tribute to the original ship. If this guy really is a descendent of Black Beard, perhaps he’s trying to honor his famous ancestor by keeping the pirating tradition alive... duplicating the way he looked, and sailing a ship with a similar name.”
“Not to mention stealing loot from other seafarers - like us!” Jack hissed, frowning at the thought, his fists becoming clenched in aggravation.
“Yeah, that’s right. Noodles’ noggin is a curious plunder by any measure, but we’ve got to recover it, no matter what. Even if this guy really is a relative of Black Beard, we’ve got to face him,” Neil said.
Jack nodded in agreement, while Nibbler chuffed and Murphy softly squeaked. The Beans were both fascinated and anxious about the prospect of facing the keeper, now that they suspected he might actually be a descendent of the infamous, fearsome Black Beard - a legendary pirate who had once ruled the seas under a flag that had inspired fear among all those who laid eyes upon it.
They continued walking alongside the dock until they stood beside the front of the ship. There, they saw that a curious wooden figurehead had been fastened to the bow. It was carved in the likeness of a giant crab, and its oversized pincers were raised in the air, as if braced for battle against similarly gargantuan crustaceans.
Neil stared at the figurehead thoughtfully. “Hmm... that is indeed a weird choice for a ship’s mascot. But it does look pretty cool, and it’s certainly fitting, considering the crab population of this island!”
As they walked beyond the ship’s bow, they saw that the cavern was becoming brighter. Spiky rock formations protruded from the floor, as well as from the ceiling high above. Iridescent mushrooms clung to these rocks, and they cast a strange, bluish light that was enough to see by as the Beans proceeded deeper into the cavern.
By the light of these fantastic mushrooms, they saw what must have been the central point of the keeper’s hideout, for it was filled with various objects that made it something like a pirate’s paradise.
There were assorted wooden chests of all shapes and sizes, fitted with metal bands and rivets. Piled about in a haphazard manner, there were sacks of supplies and swords and curved sabers. Hung upon makeshift wardrobes, there were fanciful feathered hats and brown britches and billowy white blouses.
An old piano had been propped to one side, and upon it rested stacks of sheet music, which was surely a collection of classic pirate shanties. A dusty chandelier, covered with spider webs, had been rigged to an old gallows. It held a dozen lit candles, the white wax of which dripped upon the tarnished brass.
The candles further illuminated this section of the cavern, adding to the light cast by the strange, glowing mushrooms. Half a dozen crabs crawled among the assorted goods, scrambling over chests and sashaying across nets and swords.
The boys were instantly captivated by the amazing sight before them. To behold such a lair was the stuff of dreams. And to further consider that some of the collected loot might have even belonged to Black Beard long ago... well, that was enough to sufficiently blow their minds.
“Holy macaroni,” Neil whispered. “Do you see all this awesome stuff?”
“Yes, I certainly do. But we had best not touch anything. Knowing this guy, he could very well have it booby trapped!” Jack whispered back.
Their eyes were glued to the pirate’s horde of collected goods, their backs to the ship, but they quickly realized they should not have allowed themselves to become so thoroughly distracted. The sound of Nibbler growling (something he rarely did) startled them, causing them to sharply turn around.
As they came about to face the ship, they saw that the keeper had emerged from the confines of the cabin. He stood upon the deck of the Queen Anne’s Mild Rebuttal, his fists planted upon his hips with an imperious demeanor. His gravelly voice, sounding as though it were filled with sand and broken seashells, boomed down at them.
“What are you blasted, half deaf landlubbers doing in my cove? How dare you trespass in my home!” His face twisted with outrage, and spittle flew from his lips as he spoke. His black beard trembled, and the sticks of dynamite within shook about. “By the eyes of my ancestor, I will not stand for this!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Something Brewing Below
The Green Beans, Volume 4: Shipwrecked on Smuttynose Island Page 21