Badger said nothing in reply. It was as if Ben were not there at all.
Poppy noticed what was going on.
“Ben said something,” she snapped at Badger. “Didn’t you hear him? Have you got wax in your ears? Is that your problem, Badger?”
This was an emergency, and there was work to be done. This was not a time for petty feuds and arguments. Yet there was Badger, sitting there, ignoring Ben completely.
Mr Rigger lowered himself into the boat and took up his position at the tiller so he could steer them carefully towards the rocks at the foot of the stack. He signalled to Poppy to release the line which attached them to the Tobermory, and with that they drifted quickly away from the side of the ship. They dipped their oars into the sea, and the little boat began to cut through the water, heading directly after Henry. The dog was a strong swimmer and was now nearing the rocks on which he had seen the seals.
The seals, of course, had been watching all the commotion, and being shy creatures had disappeared into the depths. They would surface again in a few moments, well away from the rocks on which they had been happily basking.
There was a strong swell. If you were in the water and wanted to clamber on to the rocks in such conditions, you would have to let the swell lift you up and then grab hold of something and haul yourself ashore. Henry, being lighter than a person, was easily carried by the water and deposited on a flat expanse of rock, like something washed up on the beach. As the water ebbed away, he gave himself an energetic shake, as dripping-wet dogs do, sending drops of water in every direction.
Henry was puzzled about what had happened to the seals – they had been there when he set out, but where were they now? What peculiar creatures they were, he thought – they had looked friendly enough from the deck of the Tobermory, but now they seemed to have disappeared under the water. How could they breathe down there?
The boat rowed by Ben and Badger and steered by Mr Rigger was now getting close to the rocks. Poppy, seated at the bow, reached out towards Henry, hoping to persuade him to jump back into the water and swim towards them. If he did that, she thought, she would be able to fish him out of the sea and they could take him back to the ship.
But it seemed that Henry had other ideas. Having just emerged from the sea, he had no desire to go back into it. The water was cold and he found the large swell very disturbing. No, it was far better to be safe on the rocks, even if he still felt rather wet and was beginning to shiver from the cold.
It was then that something unexpected happened. As Mr Rigger tried to steer the boat closer to the rock in order to give Henry a chance to jump aboard directly, a sudden wave coming from the side swung the boat round, causing Badger to slip. As he did so, he lost grip of his oar, which fell into the water. This was serious: with only one oar, the boat would be at the mercy of the swell and could quite easily be lifted up and smashed against the rocks. Badger, of course, knew this and realised that he must recover the oar.
Leaning over the side, he reached out for the oar. He almost succeeded in retrieving it, but when another wave made the boat lurch unexpectedly, he lost his balance, and before he could do anything about it, he tumbled into the sea.
Falling into the cold waters of the Atlantic is bad enough in any circumstances, but if it happens when you are not wearing a life jacket it is even worse. And, on top of that, if you hit your head on the side of a boat and are knocked unconscious, as Badger had done, then you are in serious trouble.
Ben realised the danger of the situation in an instant. He knew that if nothing was done immediately, Badger would sink, and would almost certainly drown. There was nothing else for it: he must dive into the water himself to rescue him.
Ben had been more careful than Badger and had put on a life jacket before getting into the boat. He knew that this would keep him afloat and enable him to bear the weight of the other boy as he swam, supporting Badger’s unconscious body, back to safety.
Realising he had only seconds to act, Ben stood up and jumped into the heaving green water. It was cold, and the sensation made him gasp, but the life jacket did its work and kept his head above the surface. Looking around him, he saw Badger’s motionless body, his arms spread out and his head half underwater. Striking out in a crawl, Ben made his way to Badger’s side and grabbed him just as Badger was beginning to sink. Then, turning back, still gripping Badger firmly, he struck out towards the rowing boat, where Mr Rigger and Poppy were ready to haul the two boys on board.
Henry had witnessed all this from the rock. Seeing Ben dive into the water, he had decided that he would join him and had thrown himself back into the swell. Now, as Ben and the still-unconscious Badger were dragged up into the boat, Henry gave a bark to remind everybody not to forget about him. He, too, was fished out of the sea.
Meanwhile, Poppy had now managed to recover the oar that Badger had dropped. She fitted it into a rowlock and began, with Ben, to row back towards the Tobermory while Mr Rigger attended to Badger. He had swallowed a lot of seawater, and Mr Rigger was doing his best to pump it out of his chest. With a terrible splutter, Badger coughed up the water and opened his eyes.
Back at the ship, blankets were waiting to be wrapped around Ben and Badger and, of course, Henry. Matron had mugs of hot soup for both boys, and one for Poppy too.
Whilst he was very relieved that everyone – including Henry – had come back safely, Captain Macbeth was concerned that Badger had gone to the dog’s rescue without putting on a life jacket. “You know the rules, Tomkins,” he said sternly. “It was an emergency, I’ll grant you that, but you might easily have drowned. Let that be a lesson to you.”
As Badger looked down in embarrassment, the Captain turned his attention to Henry. “And you are not to chase seals,” he said, in as stern a voice as he could manage. But it was a voice that was also filled with relief, as the Captain, like everybody else on board, was glad that Henry was safe. As he leant down to pat Henry, he gave him one of his favourite dog biscuits, and Henry wagged his tail in appreciation.
Word got round very quickly about how Ben had saved Badger’s life, although people also whispered amongst themselves that Badger had yet to thank his rescuer.
“You’d think he’d be grateful,” said Fee later, in a disgusted tone. “Badger would have drowned if it hadn’t been for my brother. You’d think that he’d have had the decency to say thank you. But has he? He has not.”
Ben did not say anything about what had happened. He had done what anyone would have done in the same circumstances. Of course he couldn’t have just stood by and let Badger drown. And if Badger chose not to thank him, that did not surprise him: the old Badger he had once known had disappeared, and he did not think it likely he would ever come back.
That evening, when Ben returned to his cabin after dinner, he found that Rory was already there, and he was holding an envelope.
“This had been slipped under the door,” he said. “It’s addressed to you.”
Ben examined the envelope closely. It was a plain white envelope, on the front of which was written BEN MacTAVISH in black ink. In the top left corner was the word PRIVATE, written in the same block capitals as Ben’s name.
“Did you see anybody deliver it?” asked Ben.
Rory shook his head. “No. As I said, it was there when I came back. I didn’t see anybody around.”
Ben saw that Rory was beginning to smile. “Have you got a girlfriend?” he asked. “Maybe it’s from a girl.”
Ben shook his head. “I know lots of girls,” he said. “But I don’t know any who would want to write me letters.”
“You never know,” said Rory. And then he asked, “Aren’t you going to read it?”
Ben turned away. He was aware that Rory was watching him, but he did not want to open the envelope in front of him. After all, it very clearly said that it was private, and he saw no reason why Rory should see it. If the envelope had been addressed to Rory and marked PRIVATE, then he would not have expected the oth
er boy to show it to him.
With his back to Rory, Ben tore open the envelope. There was a single sheet of paper inside which had been folded twice. As he smoothed out the note to read it, Ben found that his hands were shaking. “Ben,” the note began.
I know how angry you will be with me. I know that I should have thanked you today when you saved me from drowning. You must think I’m a real rat not to say anything. Okay, I am. I’ve let you down in every way, but I want you to know that I don’t want it to be like this. But it has to be. I’m so sorry. This is the way it has to be.
Beneath that was the signature: Badger. His friend.
Ben folded the note and put it in his pocket.
“Well?” asked Rory. “Who’s it from?”
Ben shook his head. “It said private. You saw that.”
Rory looked surprised. “So you’re not going to tell me?” he asked.
“No,” said Ben. “Sorry, Rory, but private means private.”
Rory shrugged. “I don’t care,” he said.
Ben bit his lip. Rory clearly thought he had the right to know what was in the letter, but he had been secretive himself when Ben had asked him about his past. If Ben was not allowed to have secrets, then the same should apply to the Irish boy.
“What about you?” Ben said.
Rory frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You think I should show you a private letter,” he said. “But you keep a lot secret, don’t you? I mean, you haven’t really told me much about yourself, have you?”
The effect of this was striking. Rory’s mouth opened as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again. Then he looked down at the deck, avoiding Ben’s gaze. And Ben, seeing the other boy shaking slightly, immediately felt sorry that he had spoken like this.
“I’m really sorry,” he said. “That was unkind of me. I’m sorry, Rory.”
Nothing more was said, but Ben continued to think about Rory’s reaction to his question about secrets. His face had assumed a look that perhaps might best be described as a look of fear. And yet there they were on a school ship with lots of other people, including a whole lot of teachers. How could anybody possibly be afraid in such circumstances?
The Viking wreck
The sail back towards the island of Mull kept them all busy. Classes had started again, and much of the day was spent on the subjects that everybody had to learn. Poppy and Fee were in a science class together and spent time in the new labs on Lower Deck. Ben and Thomas were kept busy with a history project they were doing together, as well as with some extra navigation lessons with Mr Rigger. And of course, when classes were over for the day, there were always plenty of routine shipboard tasks to be completed. Decks had to be scrubbed, ropes inspected and mended, and railings and fittings polished. At the end of the day, nobody had the energy left to do very much, and most of the Tobermory’s young crew would simply sit on deck watching the sun sink below the watery horizon until it was time to return to their cabins and go to bed.
Captain Macbeth had agreed with Mr Rigger’s suggestion that they stop off at Loch Sunart on the way back. It took them two days to reach the mouth of the long inlet that runs into the mainland of Scotland not far from Mull.
“There’s a little bay near a small island,” he said. “It’s well protected from any winds that might spring up, and it will be a good place for the Tobermory to spend the night.”
They found the bay and dropped anchor just before dinner. It was a fine evening, and there was still warmth in the sun, which that far north would not set until after ten o’clock. Ben was excited: according to the charts he had consulted with Mr Rigger, the place where the Viking longboat had gone down all those centuries ago was not at all far away. In fact, when he looked out from where they had anchored, he could make out the entrance to the body of water where it lay – through a narrow tidal channel bounded by rocks on either side. This could not have been more than half a nautical mile away from where they were.
“Just think,” Ben said to Thomas. “Just think – there’s a Viking longboat on the seabed over there. And maybe there’s treasure on it.”
Thomas looked in the direction in which his friend was pointing. “Do you think we’ll be able to find it?” he asked. There was plenty of treasure at the bottom of the sea in the Caribbean – or so people said – but he had never found any. Perhaps they would be luckier – Ben seemed so sure that he had identified the place described in the old fisherman’s diary.
Ben assured Thomas that there was a good chance of their being successful. “As long as nobody has got there before us,” he said.
Thomas looked thoughtful. “Just imagine if we find something,” he said. “What would we do with it?”
Ben had not thought about this before. “I suppose we hand it over,” he said.
Thomas looked puzzled. “But to whom?”
Ben shrugged. “To a museum, I suppose.”
Thomas was disappointed. “Can’t we keep it?”
Ben shook his head. “Treasure doesn’t belong to the person who finds it,” he said. “I think you get a reward, but you have to hand it over.”
Thomas liked the idea of a reward. He understood, though, why the treasure itself should be handed over to a museum. Treasure is part of a country’s history, and that history belongs to everybody.
“When will we be able to go and look for it?” asked Thomas.
Ben was not sure, but later that evening he had the chance to ask Mr Rigger.
“First thing tomorrow,” Mr Rigger replied. “I’m as keen as you are to start searching.”
“First thing” meant after breakfast, and after deciding the activities for the day. Since the Tobermory was spending the day at anchor, everybody was allowed to choose a special activity to do. Some people were planning to go kayaking, others were going ashore to go hillwalking or were going on a hike to the village at the far end of Loch Sunart.
Ben and Thomas, along with Rory, were going with Mr Rigger and Miss Worsfold to search for the Viking longboat. Poppy, Fee and Amanda Birtwhistle were also in the party, so Mr Rigger authorised the use of one of the larger rowing boats for the outing.
A few others noticed their preparations and were curious about what was being planned. One of them was William Edward Hardtack, who sidled up to Ben and demanded to know what was going on.
Ben answered politely, without giving anything away. “We’re going out with Mr Rigger and Miss Worsfold,” he said.
“I can see that,” sneered Hardtack. “I’m not blind, you know.”
“I didn’t say you were,” said Ben.
Hardtack took a step forward. He liked to stand close to people when he talked to them. This made them feel uneasy – which was exactly how he wanted them to feel – and more likely to do what he wanted them to do.
“So,” said Hardtack, “where are you going with Mr Rigger and Miss Worsfold? Off on some stupid search for something?”
Ben was silent for a moment whilst he considered Hardtack’s question. He did not think that Hardtack knew about the Viking longboat. But then he remembered that the guardian at the museum on St Kilda had said that he had showed the old fisherman’s diary to another boy just before Ben saw it himself. Could that boy have been Hardtack, or Shark perhaps? Ben tried to remember if he had seen what Hardtack and Co. were doing on the island, but he could not recall anything. Except … yes, he had seen them! He had seen them talking to somebody – a rather scrawny man with a shaggy beard – from one of the other boats that had been anchored off Village Bay. Realising that he must not give anything away, Ben simply smiled and answered, “Who knows?” And then he added, “Actually, it’s just an outing. They’re probably going to teach us something about rocks or seaweed, or something like that. There’s a lot to learn about seaweed, you know.”
Hardtack gave him a scathing look. “A lot to learn about seaweed,” he mimicked. “I don’t think you’re telling me the whole truth, MacTavish. I think you’re
hiding something.”
Ben took a deep breath. Hardtack could pester him as much as he liked; he was not going to tell him they were off to look for a Viking longboat, and he doubted whether anybody else in the expedition party would either. And if nobody told him, then there was nothing that Hardtack and his friends could do to interfere with the search.
The weather that morning was perfect for rowing across Loch Sunart. There was a slight breeze from the south-west, but this did no more than ruffle the waters of the incoming tide.
“We’ll take an outboard engine,” Mr Rigger announced. “We can use it if the wind gets up, but in these conditions, I think we should row.”
This was a popular decision. Rowing was one of the subjects the Tobermory students had to take an exam in, and any opportunity to practise was always welcome. Poppy and Miss Worsfold took the oars first, and rowed the group across to the other side of the loch. Then it was the turn of Ben and Rory, who took their places at the oars and began to row the boat through the narrow channel that led into the inlet beyond.
“That note you got last night,” said Rory, as they pulled on the oars. “Was it anything important?”
Ben was surprised that Rory had mentioned the note again. “Why do you want to know?” he asked.
Rory leaned forward to pull on his oar, matching Ben’s movement. “Because I can tell that there’s been something really bugging you,” he said.
They pulled on the oars again, and the boat slid forward through the water. The others were all talking amongst themselves, so Ben and Rory’s conversation was not overheard.
Ben thought for a while, then decided to tell Rory more. “It was from Badger,” he said.
Rory let out a long whistle. “Badger!” he exclaimed. “But you told me he wasn’t talking to you.”
“He isn’t,” said Ben.
“Then why the note?”
Ben said that he thought that some people find it easier to put things in writing rather than talking about them. “Maybe Badger’s like that,” he added.
The Secret of the Dark Waterfall Page 6