Text copyright © 2014 Pauline Mackay
Illustrations copyright © 2014 Dylan Gibson
The right of Pauline Mackay to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Published in Scotland in 2015 by
Ablekids Press Ltd,
46 Ballifeary Road, Inverness, IV3 5PF
www.ablekidspress.com
Epub ISBN: 978-1-910280-17-1
Mobi ISBN: 978-1-910280-18-8
eBook conversion by eBookPartnership.com
Typeset by Raspberry Creative Type
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
To Cait, whose wonderful enthusiasm brought this story into existence and who is herself, without doubt, a treasure.
Contents
Ahoy, matey!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Treasure Trove of Words for Scurvy Scallywags
Needles’ Shanty
Other titles from Ablekids Press
Ahoy, matey!
My parents were immigrants who left home to live and work in London. This was hard for our family. Sometimes we felt lost and alone, far from all the things which told the story of who we were and where we came from – landscape, art, music, history and language.
To make us feel better, we went looking for new stories. Often, we went to museums. I remember my first one, the Victoria and Albert – a palace of the past. As a child of ‘lost place parents’, I still recall the feeling I had when I stepped into its galleries. I looked at all the delights: every case, every exhibit, and I gasped: ‘This is all mine!’ And it was.
Today, I am lucky enough to work in a museum. I have the chance to share my ‘first museum’ excitement with visitors; to see their faces as they step into an incredible adventure; to guide them round a walk-in treasure chest. Treasure! Does that mean pirate’s gold?
Museums collect all sorts of items. Some are priceless. Many of these precious treasures have grown valuable over time. Perhaps no other example remains in existence or their value lies in helping us understand how people once lived.
Some examples of the objects, specimens and archives that can be found in a museum are: jewellery and coins; preserved animals (taxidermy), some of which may now be extinct; fossils of long-dead species, such as dinosaurs; paintings and books; weapons and tools.
So remember, when you visit a museum, you are answering a special invitation to discover its treasures and to understand their real value and importance. And don’t forget that we share this treasure – our knowledge about the past, stories of people’s lives and information about the natural world. It is all ours!
Cait McCullagh
Curator – Collections Engagement
Inverness Museum
Chapter 1
One misty morning in September, a damp little package arrived at Inverness Museum, addressed rather mysteriously
‘To anyone who cares’.
It landed on Kate the Curator’s desk, only to be buried immediately under a pile of newly delivered letters, while she was showing a group of schoolchildren some of the museum’s treasures: Pictish stones, fossils, Viking and Jacobite artefacts.
‘Treasure’ was a word visitors heard often from Kate as she sailed effortlessly back in time, bringing the rich history of the area to life.
Adults were encouraged to handle precious exhibits to help them connect with the past. Children, too, were held captive by the unusual, ancient objects placed in their hands.
When she eventually returned to her desk, Kate was struck by the odd arrangement of the unopened letters awaiting her attention. They were lying in the shape of an
Chapter 2
That evening, out of nowhere, a sea breeze blew slowly through the museum, lingering in some spots as if it had special business there.
The whole building creaked and groaned as if it was reluctantly coming to life.
Suddenly, Whiskers, a rather fine specimen of a black water vole from the Fresh Water display, found himself running along the floor of the museum.
A small object came bouncing straight into him, making him squeak with surprise.
It turned out to be a very old, worn coin, but there was something else, too. Faint fingerprints swirled on either side of the dull metal, as if, long ago, someone had been holding on so tightly that their mark was left forever.
An unexpected growl broke the salty silence.
“Shiver me timbers! That scurvy piece o’ silver has grown legs. See if you can find it, Talons.”
Whiskers jumped at the sound of the gravelly voice, barely managing to stop another squeak. Most importantly for the little water vole, who was Talons? With a name like that, it couldn’t be good!
Just as Whiskers’ long hairy tail slipped out of sight behind a stone basin, which was standing nearby, he got his answer and froze in fear.
A tawny owl swooped down, grabbed the coin in its deadly talons and flew away over the display cases.
When Whiskers regained the use of his legs, he bravely decided to head in the same direction, in the hope of understanding what was going on and why he was in this strange place.
An old, bearded man, dressed in oilskins, was sitting by a yellowing piece of whale bone, mending sails.
As he worked, he swayed from side to side, singing the following shanty:
Whiskers couldn’t believe his ears. How could anyone who worked at the museum be turning into a horrible pirate? It was too ridiculous!
Just at that moment, Kate staggered round a huge display case, wearing a skull and crossbones bandana.
“Don’t worry, me hearties,” she cried. “Thar’ll be a fair wind blowin’ before long ’n then we’ll be able to make shore. This storm’s like a bellyache after too much rich grub. It’ll soon pass.”
Talons, perhaps wisely, chose to perch on a dried-out display branch, rather than risk a bumpy ride on Kate’s shoulder!
“Cap’n Kate’ll soon ’ave her sea legs,” laughed the old man confidently, as she lurched round another corner and disappeared.
Chapter 3
For the next two days, the museum was closed and absolutely still, apart from Whiskers exploring this new, completely alien territory. His search for a river, stream or pool was in vain.
The only other creatures were all motionless, with glassy, unseeing eyes. Among them, in one of the woodland displays, was a tawny owl which looked exactly like Talons.
As for the old man mending sails in the painting which hung on one of the museum’s walls, he wasn’t real!
By Monday night, Whiskers might have convinced himself it was all a bad dream, if it wasn’t for the fact he just couldn’t explain his own presence in the museum!
On Tuesday morning Kate breezed into work.
“Ahoy, me hearties!” were her first words to the other staff. Saturday’s skull and crossbones bandana was twisted loosely round her neck. A large, gold hoop earring dangled boldly from her right ear, and a smudged pirate ship tattoo bobbed in and out of sight on the pale skin of her left upper arm.
A few hours later, Whiskers looked on aghast as a jagged, weather–worn piece of oak, salvaged by Kate from an unknown source, was hoisted above the door of the Discovery Room. On it was s
crawled: Captain Kate’s Cabin.
That night, an oil lamp flickered in the Discovery Room, revealing its transformation into a ship’s cabin, fit for an ambitious pirate captain.
Kate sat, eerie shadows dancing around her, plotting with her increasingly sinister accomplice.
Whiskers remembered the shanty.
What were the eight things Kate had to gather? Despite the terrifying silhouette of Talons clamped to a chair in a dark corner of the Cabin, Whiskers hid by the open door and listened.
“Aye, ’tis a fine piece of oak, indeed, Cap’n. It’s got th’ pedigree to bring back an ocean-skimmin’, wind-lovin’ schooner ’n ah’ll ’ave all th’ sails ye’ll be needin’ mended by Friday.”
“See they are, Needles or ye’ll be the first one greetin’ th’ keel o’ my ship!” Kate’s eyes narrowed and she rubbed her gold earring. Her sea sickness would be gone by Saturday. “Everythin’ ’ll be gone by Saturday!” she roared out triumphantly, extinguishing the lamp.
Whiskers couldn’t sleep a wink. Kate was behaving very oddly, yet no-one in the museum seemed to be worried. How could he save Kate and the museum from impending pirate doom?
Chapter 4
Bleary-eyed and nervous as the sun rose, Whiskers dreaded what would unfold that day. The fragment of conversation he had overheard the night before certainly made it clear that Saturday was the fateful day, and, judging from Kate’s confidence, the eight pieces of the pirate puzzle were falling easily into place. Whiskers had nothing more to go on, while Needles, quiet and calm in his picture again, knew everything!
On Wednesday afternoon, Kate headed for the Cabin, a large, bulging canvas bag slung over her shoulder. Whiskers noted her stagger had already disappeared, replaced by what could only be described as the hint of a swagger.
The silver piece of eight, which had bounced into him several days earlier, was hanging round Kate’s neck. The fingerprints, so faint before, now furrowed deeply into the silver, as if someone’s life depended, once more, on holding on to it.
Kate unfurled a huge banner.
International Talk like a Pirate Day!
The museum was preparing for a family day of pirate fun. Kate was only doing her job – incredibly enthusiastically. Needles? He was obviously part of the show.
That night, one very tired and relieved little water vole slept peacefully, unaware of an important meeting between Kate and Needles.
Curled up and well hidden in a warm, cosy corner, he also missed Talons flying frantically around the displays. The tawny owl was hunting for Whiskers!
On Thursday, Kate indulged in a jig or two as she went about her day’s work. This made the coins in a silky pouch, hanging from her thick leather belt, jingle and jangle, putting a big smile on her face.
“Better mind me treasure!” Whiskers heard her say loudly to laughing visitors several times.
Some of them said they’d be attending the family fun day. That made her smile even more, and twist the thick gold ring which had appeared on her thumb.
“Splendid, me hearties. By th’ end o’ th’ day, ye’ll all be real pirates, for sure!”
When Whiskers poked his nose into the Cabin that evening, he saw a Jolly Roger raised above the banner.
“A pirate flag for the pirate ship?” he wondered, then gave himself a shake.
Out by the whale bone, Needles was hard at work. Perhaps it was intuition, but Whiskers scurried under a fold of sail just in time. Talons came to rest on the dried branch above Needles’ head and listened intently, but any giveaway noises were drowned out by the old man bursting into the shanty which had so alarmed Whiskers.
“Call me blood mutinous again ’n ah’ll make sure ye dine on weevils for a month, ye dirty bilge rat!” threatened Kate as she sprung out unexpectedly in front of Needles.
Talons settled on her shoulder and fixed him with an unnerving stare.
“Blisterin’ barnacles, Cap’n. Ne’er meant no ’arm by it. Just a way o’ sayin’ what quality pirate blood ye’ve got!”
“Look lively, ye old sea dog and turn these silver groats into ‘lucky’ pieces o’ eight!”
From his hiding place, Whiskers heard the coins being rattled impatiently.
“That be up to yersel’, Cap’n, not a scurvy dog like me. Hold yer pirate piece o’ eight tight, then dip it into that thar old pouch, made from silk that touched the skin o’ Cap’n Kidd!”
“Arrrrrrrgh,” crowed Kate, pleased with the result.
“Tomorrow, we’ll gather up th’ pistols, cutlasses and a sweet, silver timepiece. Ah can taste that salty sea air already ’n Talons here’ll earn ’er keep better than any parrot.”
Whiskers’ sleek, black fur stood on end. Something really was wrong.
Chapter 5
The first unwelcome sound on Friday wasn’t the jingle, jangle of unnatural coins. It was a tinkling of keys. Someone was opening the display cases. That someone, of course had to be ... no, it couldn’t be ...
NEEDLES!
Dressed like a member of staff, the bunch of museum keys dangling merrily from his sinewy wrist, Needles was about to remove pistols and swords from one of the cases when Mary, a museum employee, rushed up.
“Stop! Stop! What are you doing?”
Whiskers gulped as Needles turned slowly.
“You forgot the cotton gloves. You must wear these when touching certain exhibits. I know it’s your first day here at the museum. There’s a lot to learn. Let me help you move these to the Cabin.”
Needles gave a cold, hard smile and put on the gloves.
Anxious not to believe what he was seeing with his own eyes, Whiskers rushed to check on the painting of Kate’s co-conspirator.
It had gone!
Talons, however, sat rigidly on display, her eyes dark and empty.
Later, Whiskers watched Needles brazenly help himself to an elegant silver watch from the Jacobite collection. He added it, with great satisfaction, to the growing pile of pistols and swords – which Kate had taken to calling cutlasses.
Everything she had listed was gathered in one place. Yet as the museum shut for the night, Whiskers was no closer to making sense of what was happening and time was most definitely running out!
In light of the good fortune which they felt sure was about to shine on them, Kate and Needles spent the evening in the Cabin, laughing and toasting the stupidity of landlubbers.
Needles’ staff uniform had been abandoned in favour of an ill-fitting cotton shirt, threadbare waistcoat and torn breeches, topped off by a gaudy red bandana tied tightly round his straggly grey hair. The soles of his feet were like dried-out strips of old leather. An ugly scar sliced through the brown, creased skin of his left cheek and two gold teeth glinted every time he roared with laughter at the Captain’s jokes.
Kate’s appearance was no less astonishing. A white, silk blouse flounced from beneath a crimson, damask waistcoat while a black belt, studded with gold, swept round billowing velvet breeches. Bucket boots, polished and gleaming, adorned her feet. On her head, a plain broad-brimmed hat boasted a band of golden ribbon and three magnificent peacock feathers, which flapped gently like sails waiting for a fair wind.
As the wick on the oil lamp burned low, Needles left the Cabin with Talons who was determined on one last hunt. The disappearance of the water vole was an irritating mistake which Kate had successfully explained away to staff. Talons’ inability to catch it had angered her more. As the heavy doors of the Discovery Room swung slowly shut behind them, Whiskers, in a moment of desperation, darted inside.
Kate yawned and stretched, ready to leave too, but then slumped over the table. Exhausted by the adventures of the past week and the excitement of what was still to come, she fell instantly asleep. And that was when Whiskers finally discovered what lay in store the following day!
Chapter 6
At first, all remained quiet in the Cabin except for the faintest crackle of the burning lamp wick. Needles had left a piece of sail cloth d
raped over a chair. Whiskers climbed up it and jumped onto the table. The peacock feathers now hovered like three unblinking eyes.
Lying on the table was the pouch of coins which seemed to be a very important part of Kate’s plan.
Whiskers loosened the drawstring and gently dragged one of the coins into view. It certainly wasn’t a groat from the museum’s display. It was a silver Spanish dollar – a piece of eight – like the one round Kate’s neck.
“Ah’ll teach those landlubbers a thing or two!” mumbled Kate suddenly, grasping the pouch. The coin Whiskers had been examining dropped with a plop onto the table. Cowering beside the pouch, too terrified to clamber back down the sail, he realised Kate was still asleep. However, she kept talking.
“Timber ’n sails for a sturdy, seaworthy ship; pistols ’n cutlasses to fight a good fight; a gold ring for treasure; a watch to turn back time to th’ good old days; ’n pirate pieces o’ eight to buy Cap’n Kate ... aaarrrgh ...”
A deep rumble of a laugh rolled from her lips; her eyelids flickered but remained closed. Whiskers gave a huge shiver and his tail accidentally swiped the pouch. The coins inside ground together, coaxing Kate to reveal the eighth and final item she needed to bring her plan to life -
“’n pirate pieces o’ eight to buy Cap’n Kate ... an unsuspectin’ crew!”
Whiskers finally understood.
International Talk like a Pirate Day was a clever trap. Families were going to turn up on Saturday expecting fun activities, but the only activity of interest to Kate would be getting them to accept her ‘special’ pirate coins, which would transform them into a cut-throat pirate crew.
Whiskers and the Pieces of Eight Page 1