Hunt for the Panther 3 (9781101610923)

Home > Other > Hunt for the Panther 3 (9781101610923) > Page 6
Hunt for the Panther 3 (9781101610923) Page 6

by Delaney, Rachelle; Guerlais, Gerald (ILT)


  “Obviously,” Uncle Finn replied without looking back at his nephew.

  “And you’ll be presenting there… when exactly?”

  “As soon as possible.” Uncle Finn paused to examine a tiny purple bromeliad sprouting off a branch. He snapped off a leaf and tucked it in his bag of samples.

  “Which means,” Jem concluded, “we’ll be going home.”

  It wasn’t a complete surprise, really. When Uncle Finn had shown up at the King’s Cross School for Boys to whisk Jem off on an adventure in the tropics, he’d promised to have him back in six months’ time. It had taken them two months to cross the Atlantic, and they’d been living on Island X for two months now. So if everything went according to plan, Jem had very little time left before he’d have to trade the Lost Souls for his schoolmates, and tree house construction for Master Davis’s long, droning lectures on prime numbers, Latin verbs, and character building. Back in the Old World, a rare adventure consisted of visiting his parents’ estate, where the wildest animals around were a grumpy pony and a fat tabby cat.

  Jem glanced around again. On the one hand, returning to a life of lessons and rules sounded terribly dull. On the other hand, at least his parents’ tabby cat wouldn’t eat him for breakfast.

  He shook his head, and a lecture Master Davis had once given came to mind.

  “Boys,” the stuffy schoolmaster had declared, “the best way to overcome fear is to learn everything you can about whatever it is you’re scared of. Logic conquers all.”

  That last bit didn’t really apply to Island X, but Jem decided he’d give it a go anyway. If he was going to be a good Deputy Captain, he had to get over this fear. “Uncle Finn,” he called, interrupting his uncle’s lecture on the many exciting ways to phrase a hypothesis. “About that panther.”

  “Hmm?” Uncle Finn looked back over his shoulder. “What about it?”

  Jem took a deep breath, wondering where to start. “Well… what do panthers eat?”

  “Meat,” Uncle Finn said without hesitation. “They’re carnivores.”

  “Right.” Jem gulped. That hadn’t helped. “And… how do you know when they’re around?”

  Uncle Finn paused to inspect a giant red bromeliad covered in tiny green ants. “You usually don’t,” he said. “Panthers are stealthy, almost completely silent. You don’t know they’re there until they’re on top of you.”

  Jem’s knees buckled. He silently cursed Master Davis.

  “What about tracks?” Thomas asked, holding some vines to the side so they could pass.

  “About this big.” Uncle Finn held up his fist. “They have big round toe pads, but no claw marks. That’s because their claws are retractable. They only unsheathe them when they want to kill something.”

  “Oh. Good,” Jem wheezed, remembering the track Monty had shown him earlier that day. It had fit Uncle Finn’s description perfectly. He looked around for a nice spot to lie down and pass out.

  “I wonder if there are any other panthers on the island,” Thomas mused. “Must get lonely in that cave all by ’imself. Bet he’d like a friend.”

  More than one panther? Jem had never thought about that. He wiped sweat off his forehead and looked behind him, this time spotting glimmering cat eyes in every bush. The jungle suddenly seemed darker. He scanned the treetops for a slice of sunlight.

  All of a sudden, something came crashing through the bushes behind him. Jem whirled around just as the beast threw itself on him, landing square on his chest.

  “Argh!” He stumbled backward. “Help! Get it off me!” He tripped over a fallen log and fell smack on his rear end, wrestling with the beast still clinging to his shirt.

  “Easy there, Jem.” Thomas leaned over and plucked the thing off him, holding up a small black monkey. The troublemaker shrieked with laughter. “It’s jus’ a little fella.”

  Jem let his breath out in a whoosh. It was just a monkey. Not a panther. He climbed slowly to his feet, dusting the dirt off his trousers and ignoring Uncle Finn’s snicker. If he did have to return to the Old World, one thing he certainly wouldn’t miss was the monkeys.

  Actually, he realized as he glared at the jabbering little creature, it wasn’t just any monkey. It was Kapu’s pet monkey. Which meant the Islanders couldn’t be far away. Which reminded him why he’d ventured out into the jungle in the first place.

  Sure enough, a moment later, Sina and Kapu’s tiny tree house came into view, and the pair emerged from it, swinging down on sturdy vines to greet their visitors. The monkey slipped out of Thomas’s grasp and leaped onto Kapu’s shoulder.

  “Hey!” Jem called.

  Kapu danced over to meet him with a big gap-toothed smile.

  “You lost a tooth!” Jem exclaimed. Since Kapu knew even less English than Sina, Jem tapped his own tooth for emphasis. Kapu smiled wider and nodded.

  “Where are you going?” Jem asked, miming the question by marching on the spot and lifting his palms up in question.

  Sina pointed at Jem.

  “To camp? That’s great! Because I need your help.” Jem pointed to himself, then tapped his head. “I need you to show me how to put a door on a tree house.” He pointed up at their tree house, then mimed opening and shutting a door. Sina and Kapu had the most well-constructed house he’d ever seen. If anyone knew how to build a door, it was them.

  Sina nodded, but she looked confused. She and Kapu had a short discussion, then turned back to Jem, mimed opening the door, and shrugged as if to say, “Why?”

  “Well, to keep predators out,” Jem explained. “Like the panther.” He did his best imitation of a large bloodthirsty cat.

  Sina looked amused. She said something to Kapu, who giggled.

  Jem couldn’t say for sure, but he had a feeling it was something along the lines of, “A door won’t keep a panther out.” And that was probably true, but he had to do something to protect the crew. This was the best he could come up with.

  Sina raised a finger, then drew herself up tall, assuming an ugly grimace. Then she pretended to unsheathe a cutlass and brandish it in the air.

  “Ooh!” Thomas exclaimed. “Pirates! Right? I like this game!”

  “Come on, Thomas.” Uncle Finn sighed, pulling his assistant further into the jungle. “We’ll see you children later,” he called back to them.

  “Oh, I see what you’re saying,” Jem said to Sina. “A door won’t keep the pirates out, right?”

  Sina shrugged.

  Jem sighed. “True. It’s… it’s just all I’ve got for now. The Lucas problem is a much, much bigger one. To be honest, I’m hoping Scarlet will be back by the time we have to face it, so we can all put our heads together.”

  Sina studied him for a moment, then nodded. She hoisted her quiver of arrows and her bow up on her shoulder, then turned and headed for camp, motioning for the boys to fall in behind her.

  They’d only been in the clearing for a minute or two when Smitty came running over, followed by Monty and Elmo.

  “Fitz,” he said seriously. “We’ve got a problem.”

  Jem froze. “What? What is it? Who is it?” Images of a Lost Soul getting carried away by a slobbering panther flashed through his mind. Or maybe Lucas had shown up already. What then? That would mean—

  Smitty cleared his throat. “I have this… sickness.”

  Jem stopped. “You… what?” Smitty looked perfectly healthy.

  “I have a sickness,” Smitty repeated. “And I don’t know what will cure it.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jem raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s a love sickness,” Smitty explained, and he whipped a bouquet of half-wilted flowers out from behind his back. He presented them to Sina, who looked properly horrified.

  Jem groaned as Monty and Elmo exploded into laughter. Kapu joined in, but Sina stopped him with a cuff upside the head.

  “Isn’t that sweet of Rodney?” cooed Elmo.

  “Alfred, you shouldn’t have!” Monty batted his eyelashes.

  Jem sighe
d and rubbed his forehead. The Lost Souls were all trying extrahard to discover Smitty’s real name now, hoping they’d make the right guess in front of Sina.

  For her part, Sina didn’t seem to appreciate the humor. Ignoring the wilted bouquet, she turned on her heel and stalked off.

  “Wait!” Jem called, for he still needed her help with the doors. “Meet me at the houses, okay?” He nudged Kapu, who ran after his sister.

  “You’re welcome!” Smitty called. “See you later!”

  Still howling with laughter, Monty and Elmo scampered off in the opposite direction.

  Once they were gone, Jem gave Smitty a tired look, but the boy ignored him.

  “Seriously, Fitz,” he said. “I do have a problem.”

  “Sure you do, Smit. Look, I’ve got important things to do here, like fending off a panther that wants to eat us and a pirate who wants to make us clean the long drop for eternity. Or worse.”

  “This’ll just take a minute. See, I need to show Sina how I feel about her.”

  “I think you’ve been doing just fine at that,” Jem told him. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Please, Jem.” Smitty took hold of his arm. “You’re the smartest person I know. Help me think of a way to win her love?”

  Jem threw up his hands. “I don’t know anything about love!”

  “Please, Jem.” Smitty gave him a pitiful look.

  Jem sighed. “Well… why don’t you get Kapu to teach you the Islander language? That way you can actually talk to her. I’ll bet she’d appreciate it.” And, he added to himself, it would be good to have someone other than Scarlet who can communicate with them.

  Smitty wrinkled his nose. “I was thinking something more along the lines of a poem.”

  “Of course you were.”

  “In fact, I just came up with one. Let me recite it, and you’ll tell me what you think?”

  “But Smit,” said Jem, “what good is a poem if you don’t speak the same language?”

  “We speak the language of love!” Smitty answered.

  Jem almost pointed out that Sina seemed to speak the language of “go away and leave me alone,” then decided it would be faster not to argue. “Okay. But be quick.”

  “Jolly!” Smitty took a step back, then squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. “Ready?”

  “You’ve got two minutes,” Jem warned him.

  “Okay.” Smitty closed his eyes, then recited,

  I’m just a simple pirate, a rotten buccaneer,

  But something unexplicable hits me when you are near.

  “Inexplicable,” said Jem.

  “Just listen, mate.”

  I’ve never felt this way before, I’m achy, sick, and tired.

  I thought at first I’d eaten something after it expired.

  Jem held up his hand. “Really?”

  “Really,” said Smitty. “This love thing is tearing me apart.”

  “No, I meant—” Jem began, then thought better. “Go on.”

  But then I realized it happens just when you’re around.

  My tongue goes numb, my mouth dries up, I cannot make a sound.

  “So that’s why it’s been nice and quiet lately,” Jem commented.

  “Shh.”

  It’s not the pain I mind so much—that’s not what makes me blue.

  It’s wondering if you will ever say you love me, too.

  Smitty sighed and bowed his head. “That’s it.”

  “Good,” Jem said, glad it was over.

  “Think she’ll like it?”

  “I’m sure she will,” Jem told him. “Although you might want to consider learning the Islander language, anyway. You know, in case this doesn’t quite to do the job.”

  Smitty shrugged. “I’ll try this first.” And he trotted off, leaving Jem shaking his head.

  Scarlet stared at the parlor ceiling and wondered if it was possible to die of boredom. If it was, she was probably dangerously close to her own demise.

  In the stiff-backed chair beside her, Josephine hummed a little tune while working on her embroidery. She’d been at it for the last few hours, humming away as an orange cat took shape on her dainty white handkerchief.

  “Would you say that you’re a cat person, cousin?” Josephine asked, without looking up from her work.

  “No,” Scarlet replied, shaking her right leg, which had fallen asleep around the same time her brain went numb, a good two hours before.

  “Well, I definitely am,” said Josephine. “I just adore cats. Big ones, small ones, striped ones—”

  “Right. I figured,” Scarlet cut in. Josephine’s favorite topics, as she’d discovered over the past few days, were embroidery, knitting, and cats. The cousins officially had nothing in common.

  Death by boredom. Scarlet shifted in her stiff-backed chair and shook her head in disgust. What a horrible way to go. Death by keelhaul would be honorable. Death by plank-walking would be brave. Even death by snakebite would be understandable. But no one would understand if they found the captain of the Lost Souls dead in a King’s Man’s parlor with a mess of embroidery in her lap.

  She looked down at her own project and grimaced. The yellow butterfly she’d envisioned flitting across the handkerchief looked more like an egg someone had dropped on the road.

  Josephine glanced up. “Do you need some help, cousin?”

  “No,” said Scarlet. “I’m going to take a break.” She stood, stretching her restless legs. “Hard work, this embroidery.”

  Josephine gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s coming along well.” She looked down at the yellow splat and bit her lip. “I can’t believe embroidery isn’t taught in the tropics.”

  “Yes, we’re really missing out.” Scarlet tossed the handkerchief aside and marched to the window. The ocean view had an instant calming effect, and she reminded herself to be nice.

  “Here in the tropics, ladies are really more into…” She racked her brain for something a lady would do. “Spices,” she said. It wasn’t entirely a lie—the Islander women had known all about spices. They’d spent hours gathering and drying and grinding them into fine powders, then sharing them with family and friends. Some simply tasted delicious, like the cinnamon Meggie sprinkled on Scarlet’s toast every morning now. Other spices had different powers—healing powers, or so Scarlet’s mother had told her, so long ago.

  “Spices!” Josephine dropped her embroidery in her lap. “Really?”

  “Mm-hm.” Scarlet looked away, gazing out the window at the milky-blue sea in the distance.

  “Like the Islanders used to use!” said Josephine. “Father was telling me all about them,” she added. “They sounded like fascinating people. I mean, can you imagine living in a little hut made of wood and leaves, and going around barefoot? I just—” Suddenly, Josephine stopped. “Oh, cousin, I’m sorry. I completely forgot you were… I mean, you are…”

  Scarlet kept staring out the window, hoping Josephine would take the hint and drop the subject. She could just imagine what Uncle Daniel had said about the Islanders—the people he hadn’t wanted his brother to live with. Her hands balled into fists.

  She focused on the horizon to calm herself. Somewhere out there was her island, and on it, her crew. What were they up to now? Had Jem managed to fend off the panther? Had there been any sign of the power-hungry pirate captain?

  “Maybe… maybe you can show me how the Islanders used spices,” Josephine suggested. “I’m sure my schoolmistress will be fascinated when I report back.”

  “Maybe,” Scarlet answered, knowing full well she would do no such thing.

  “My father is particularly fascinated by the Islanders,” Josephine went on, and Scarlet rolled her eyes. “And particularly their knowledge of plants that cure illnesses. Like—”

  “Why don’t we go outside?” Scarlet interrupted. Her legs and lungs ached for a walk and some fresh air. And it would give her a chance to eavesdrop on some conversations around port and maybe learn a th
ing or two about the Rebel.

  “Oh.” Josephine’s eyes grew wide. “But our fathers won’t be home for another hour at least, remember?”

  Scarlet’s father and Uncle Daniel had left that morning to consult with some other King’s Men about Uncle Daniel’s business, which Scarlet still couldn’t define. She’d asked him about it, but he’d droned on so long about the king’s greatness and how lucky he was to work for him that she’d eventually stopped listening.

  “That’s all right,” said Scarlet. “We’ll be back before they are.”

  “B-but… without a chaperone?” Josephine clutched her handkerchief with both hands.

  “Sure,” Scarlet said, although she could picture her father exploding if he saw them out alone. “That’s… that’s how it’s done in the tropics.” It was a full-out lie, but possibly the only way to get Josephine outside of the house and away from her embroidery.

  “Really?” Josephine looked uncertain.

  “Definitely,” Scarlet told her. “Chaperones are an Old World thing. Here in the tropics, they don’t even exist. Come on now.” She strode to the parlor door and waited for Josephine to rise and join her.

  “Should we tell Meggie?”

  “No,” Scarlet said quickly. “She won’t care. Come on. I’ll show you around. Then you can report back to your classmates about the real tropics.”

  Josephine practically glued herself to Scarlet’s side as they wandered down the muddy red street, away from the admiral’s house and toward the docks. She took everything in without blinking, gasping when an old merchant offered to sell them limes, and squeaking when a cabin boy ran by, splashing their boots with red mud.

  “Watch where you’re going!” Scarlet yelled after him, and Josephine gasped again.

  “We’re not allowed to raise our voices in public back in the Old World,” she murmured. “Or anywhere, really.”

  “Oh. Right.” Scarlet pictured her father reminding her of Rule Number Five. Good thing he hadn’t been around for that. “Come on.” She dragged Josephine across the street, away from some filthy pirates who were eyeing them curiously. Children didn’t get noticed in port when they were dressed up like cabin boys, but apparently unchaperoned girls in fine dresses did. Scarlet suddenly remembered how Jem and his uncle had been greeted when they’d first stepped off their ship, dressed all posh and proper. The Dark Ranger pirates had lost no time in kidnapping them and hauling them onto their own boat.

 

‹ Prev