The Secret of the Dark Waterfall

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The Secret of the Dark Waterfall Page 8

by Alexander McCall Smith


  “Let’s try it,” said Ben.

  They dressed hurriedly, putting on their darkest clothing so that they would not stand out in the moonlight. Then, as quietly as possible, so as not to wake anybody, they made their way along the darkened companionway and up onto the main deck. Just as Rory had remembered, the kayaks were there, lashed to the railings.

  It only took them a few minutes to carry the kayaks down the gangplank to the small platform at the side of the ship used for getting into smaller boats or onto jetties. There they lowered the slender craft into the water and slid into the seats. Pushing themselves away from the platform, they paddled away from the Tobermory towards the other side of the bay. They could make out the shape of the larger boat, and they could see dim light from its wheelhouse and some of the portholes, but there was no sign now of Shark’s rowing boat.

  “He must be all the way across by now,” Ben said, his voice barely a whisper. Sound travels very easily across open water, and they did not want to give anybody warning of their approach.

  The kayaks travelled fast, and very soon they had crossed the bay. Ben spotted Shark’s rowing boat tied up at the stern of the larger boat, bobbing up and down in the water. Rory saw it too and signalled to Ben to slow down. Then, pointing to the far side of the boat, he began to paddle in that direction.

  They could now make out the lettering on the stern of the boat. Ben read it, and whispered it under his breath: Swordfish. It was not perhaps the friendliest of names. Many boats are called by amusing names, or names that at least have a friendly ring to them. There are plenty of Jolly Dancers and Good Companions and so on. Swordfish was a sharper sort of name, Ben thought – not unlike Rapier or Javelin – perhaps even rather sinister. Something was bothering him – one of those memories that linger in the mind, niggling, reluctant to go away. Swordfish? Ben tried hard to remember. He had seen a boat called Swordfish somewhere before … Then, suddenly, it came to him. Swordfish was the name of the boat that had been anchored in Village Bay at St Kilda. That was it: he had seen this boat before, and it was only a few days ago.

  They heard voices coming from one of the open portholes, and by paddling very quietly Ben and Rory were able to get right under it without being detected.

  Ben heard somebody cough. Then a voice – it was a man’s voice – said, “Is this the Viking boat you mentioned over on St Kilda? Are you sure? And you think your crew mates might have found it?”

  It was all that Ben could do to stop himself from gasping. He knew for certain now that Shark must have seen the picture of the wreck in the old fisherman’s journal because Ben was positive that neither he nor any of his friends would have mentioned it to anybody else – other than Mr Rigger, of course, and Miss Worsfold too. But they would never have passed on the information to Geoffrey Shark, of all people. No, Shark must have seen the journal himself.

  The man who had asked the question now received his reply. Ben and Rory would have recognised Shark’s voice anywhere. It was a slightly nasal voice, with a sinister tone to it – just the sort of voice a real shark would have if sharks could talk.

  “I’m positive,” Shark said. “Hardtack spoke to them and was suspicious when they said they were going to study seaweed, and I also heard something later on.”

  “What did you hear?” asked the man.

  “I heard one of our officers talking to one of the teachers. They were discussing the Viking ship. They said there might be treasure on board.”

  There was silence for a few moments. Then, outside in the boat, Rory sneezed. If you have ever tried to stop yourself sneezing, you will know how difficult it is. In fact, if the sneeze really wants to come out, it is impossible to stop it. And so it was for Rory, and before he could do anything about it, the tickling in his nose had become an irresistible burst of a sneeze.

  Ben caught his breath. He knew that it was not his friend’s fault, but it was still about the worst thing that could have happened. Inside, the silence continued for a few moments more. Then the man said, “Did you hear somebody sneeze?”

  Another voice – one they had not heard say anything yet – chimed in, “It certainly sounded like a sneeze to me.”

  At that moment, a head appeared at the porthole and looked out. A small bank of cloud had drifted across the sky, but just at that moment it moved past, allowing the moon to bathe the whole scene in a silver light. Ben, peering up towards the porthole, looked straight into the face of the person looking out. And that person was Badger.

  For a moment both of them froze. The two boys stared directly at one another for several seconds, then Badger’s head disappeared back through the porthole. “It was a dolphin,” he said. “You know how they make that sound when they come up for air.”

  The man considered this for a moment, then said, “Anyway, it’s late and you’d better get back to your ship. Thanks for the news, boys, and remember, there’ll be something in this for you. If we get to the treasure first, you’ll get a reward.”

  “Thank you,” said Shark. “I can just imagine the look on old Worsfold’s face when she gets down there and realises she’s too late. And Rigger too. His moustache will hit his boots when he discovers he’s missed out. Hah!”

  Ben glanced at Rory and gave a signal to leave before Shark and Badger started to row back to the Tobermory. Swiftly and silently, the kayaks headed back across the water.

  The empty boat

  Straight after breakfast the following morning, Ben called a meeting of his friends. They met in the life-jacket storeroom, a place that few people would have reason to go when the boat was at anchor. It is hard to keep secrets on a ship, where everyone lives so close to each other, but there are always quiet corners for a private conversation. This was one of them.

  Poppy was there, as were Tanya, Amanda and Fee. Then there were Rory and Thomas, and Ben, of course, who closed the door once everybody had arrived.

  “What’s this all about?” asked Poppy.

  Ben told them about what he and Rory had seen and heard the previous evening. They listened intently and nobody interrupted, except when Ben came to the part about Badger’s head appearing through the porthole. That made Tanya gasp.

  “Badger!” she exclaimed. “What’s happened to him? He’s completely changed. I always thought he was such a nice guy until this term.”

  “He was,” said Fee. “Once upon a time, but not now.”

  “People change,” Thomas observed. “I knew somebody back home who started off nice and then became a real bully. Something went wrong inside – I don’t know what it was, but it was as if he had become a different person.”

  “That’s what I feel has happened to Badger,” Ben said. “He was my friend, you know, and then …”

  Poppy looked at him sympathetically. “I know what you mean, Ben. He just changed, didn’t he? Just like that.”

  Ben nodded. “Anyway,” he said, “I thought we should decide what to do. That’s why I called this meeting.”

  Poppy scratched her head. “It’s hard, isn’t it? But I suppose we have to go to Mr Rigger and the Captain and tell them. We have to warn them what these other people are up to.”

  “But then they’ll ask us how we know,” said Tanya. “That will mean Ben and Rory will have to say that they overheard them.”

  “So?” said Poppy. “That’s what they have to do.”

  Rory saw what Tanya had been driving at. “But then we’ll have to admit we took the kayaks and went out at night. That’s against the rules.”

  “Rory’s right,” agreed Fee. “That’s really serious. If you leave the ship at night without permission, it’s automatic suspension from all activities for ten days. It’s a really, really strict rule.”

  They lapsed into silence for a moment. There was another difficulty, and Ben now mentioned it. “The other problem is Badger. If we tell them about Badger being there, then he’ll be punished along with Shark.”

  “I suppose that’s right,” said Poppy.
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  “And they could be expelled,” said Ben. “I wouldn’t mind if any of Hardtack and Co. were sent away, but not Badger.”

  “But Badger’s almost as bad as them these days,” Poppy pointed out. “I don’t see much difference between them.”

  Ben did not answer. He could see what Poppy meant, but he remembered the note Badger had written and how Badger had pretended not to see anything when he looked out of the porthole. That had saved not only him but Rory as well. So Badger was not all bad. Something had happened to him, but there was still, deep down inside, something good. There was a chance – a slender chance, perhaps, but nonetheless a chance – that the old Badger might come back.

  “All right,” said Poppy. “We won’t go to the Captain. But what can we do?”

  “We watch,” suggested Rory. “We watch what happens on the Swordfish, and if we see them heading for the dive site, we warn the Captain and Mr Rigger.”

  That seemed to everybody to be the best thing to do.

  It was decided that when the Tobermory diving party went to explore the Viking wreck, Tanya would stay on board and watch the Swordfish through binoculars. If she saw anything suspicious, she would go straight to the Captain.

  “It’s the best we can do,” said Ben. “It’s not great, I know, but it’s something.”

  The three divers in the diving party later that morning were Miss Worsfold, Matron and Poppy. They could not work unassisted, though, as there must always be people on the surface to keep watch and be ready to help in any emergency. That team was led by Mr Rigger, and included Ben, Fee and Thomas. Their job was to make sure all the equipment was loaded onto the dive boat, to navigate the boat to the right place, and then, they hoped, to lend a hand in loading the treasure.

  Nobody spoke on the way to the dive site – the divers were all thinking of the dangers they might face underwater, while the others were all wondering what Viking treasure would look like. Ben thought it would almost certainly be gold – elaborate drinking vessels, perhaps, or ornaments for the bride of a Viking chieftain. There might be weapons, too – swords with jewel-encrusted hilts – as well as other priceless objects.

  They did not take long to reach the spot. It was an isolated place, and the only witnesses of their expedition would most likely be seals. These inquisitive creatures can never resist the temptation to pop their heads up out of the water and watch whatever is going on.

  And seals did appear shortly after they arrived at their destination. Four sets of bright eyes watched from a safe distance, curious to know what these unexpected intruders were up to. As the seals watched, the divers put on their face masks and Mr Rigger positioned the boat so as to be directly above the place where Miss Worsfold had found the Viking wreck the day before. With their oxygen tanks in position, the three divers leant back over the side of the boat and disappeared into the water with a splash.

  “Good luck!” shouted Ben as he watched Poppy’s head go under, but she would not have heard him. Soon the surface of the loch had returned to its calm, glassy state.

  They waited anxiously. Eventually Mr Rigger looked at his watch and announced that the divers would surface within a few minutes. He was right, and soon bubbles were seen heralding the return of first one diver, then another and another. Helping them back up onto the boat, the first thing that Ben noticed was that the nets that the divers had taken down with them were empty. His heart sank. That meant there was no treasure.

  Miss Worsfold confirmed Ben’s fears. “Nothing,” she said, shaking the water out of her hair. “Nothing at all, I’m afraid.”

  Ben looked at Poppy, who shrugged. “It’s just a few pieces of old wood now,” she said. “It’s the skeleton of a Viking boat – covered with seaweed and barnacles. It’s not very exciting, I’m afraid.”

  Everybody was disappointed, including Mr Rigger, who was silent for a few moments before blowing through his lips, producing a sort of harrumph sound that made his moustache droop in a discouraged way. Ben caught his eye – he knew how the officer felt. Like everybody else, he must have built up high hopes of a haul of treasure that would be reported in all the newspapers. Now all they had were a few ancient spars of wood, turned to coral by the action of the sea.

  They packed up and made ready to go. As they did so, Ben noticed that another boat was negotiating its way towards them. At first it was too far away for him to make out clearly, but as it got nearer, there was no doubt.

  “Look!” Ben whispered to Poppy. “That boat over there. That’s the boat Shark and Badger were on last night.”

  Poppy stared at the approaching boat, as did Fee and Thomas.

  “We must tell Mr Rigger everything,” said Poppy.

  Ben agreed, and without wasting any time, he made his way to the other end of the boat, where Mr Rigger was helping Miss Worsfold to stow away the oxygen tanks. Mr Rigger did not want to be disturbed, but when Ben told him there was something very important he had to say to him, Mr Rigger gave him his full attention. Ben recounted everything that had happened the night before – except he did not mention that Badger had been with Shark on board the Swordfish. That could wait. He might have to tell him that eventually, but for now there was no need to get his former friend into trouble.

  When Ben had finished, Mr Rigger reached for a pair of binoculars and trained them on the other boat. Then he lowered them and said to Ben, “There’s not much we can do, I’m afraid. They’re quite within their rights to sail freely around here – these are open waters.”

  He lifted his binoculars again and took another look. “They’re watching us,” he said after a while. “I’m looking straight at their captain, who’s looking straight back at me.”

  Thomas was impatient. “Surely we can do something,” he said. “Can’t we tell the police, Mr Rigger?”

  Mr Rigger explained that the police would be as powerless as they themselves were. “The Swordfish isn’t breaking any laws,” he said. “Unless a wreck is officially listed as a special site, it’s not against any law to look at it. After all, that’s what we’ve just done – and we haven’t broken any laws.”

  They were now ready to return to the Tobermory. As they made their way back into the main part of Loch Sunart, they passed close to the other boat, which was now preparing to drop anchor. Poppy spotted two divers on the deck. She reported this to Mr Rigger and Miss Worsfold, but once again they could do nothing but shrug their shoulders.

  “They won’t find anything anyway,” said Miss Worsfold. “They can search and search, but they’re in for a disappointment.”

  “Just as well,” said Thomas. “If they found any treasure they would never give it to a museum. They’d just pocket it, wouldn’t they?”

  Ben agreed. He was pleased there was no treasure for the other boat to find, but he was sad that their own search had proved fruitless. He had read so much about people who stumbled across hidden treasure, and it had been his dream that one day it might happen to him.

  A thought suddenly struck him. Ben turned to Poppy. “Poppy,” he said, “what would you have done if you were a Viking and your boat started to sink?”

  “It would depend on where I was,” said Poppy. “I’d be worried, I suppose. I don’t think the Vikings had life jackets.”

  Ben agreed that she was probably right about that, but he pressed her further. “But what would you do if you were sinking right there where we found the boat?”

  They both turned and looked back towards the spot where the Viking longboat lay. Then they looked towards the shore and the river that flowed into the loch, which was not a long distance away. And then they raised their gaze towards the hill beyond the shore, which was covered with trees and had rocky outcrops.

  Poppy was thinking out loud. “If I had been a Viking,” she murmured, “I would have tried to get ashore with the valuables. Then I’d look for a hiding place like a …”

  “A cave?” Ben interjected.

  “Yes!” said Poppy. “A cave. I’d look
for a cave where I could leave the treasure.”

  Ben smiled. “I think I’d do exactly the same thing,” he said.

  Back on board the Tobermory, Ben and Poppy were summoned to the Captain’s cabin, where they found Captain Macbeth with Mr Rigger and Miss Worsfold.

  “Miss Worsfold has told me all about the dive,” the Captain began. “I’m sorry it came up with nothing, but at least the wreck has been found and can be reported to the appropriate authorities. They may want to take steps to protect it. It is, after all, of historical interest.”

  “Yes,” said Miss Worsfold. “There are marine archaeologists who might want to take pictures of it. You never know. Sometimes things that seem to be no more than, say, a heap of old stones can tell us a lot about the past.”

  The Captain agreed, but it was clear from the tone of his voice that there was something bothering him.

  “Mr Rigger has also told me about last night,” he said to Ben. “But I’d like you to tell me in your own words exactly what happened.”

  Ben glanced at Poppy. He had been worried he would be asked about this. Was this the moment when he would have to reveal that Badger had been on the other boat as well as Shark?

  He swallowed hard. The Captain’s eyes were on him. He felt nervous.

  “Come on, MacTavish,” urged the Captain. “I’d like to hear everything.”

  Ben swallowed again. Then, summoning up all his courage, he said, “Can I ask you one thing first, Captain?”

  Captain Macbeth nodded. “You can ask me anything, MacTavish. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “Would you be able to forget about something – just for a few days?”

  The Captain frowned. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking,” he said. “Forget about something? About what?”

  “I mean,” Ben answered, “if what I told you would get someone into serious trouble, would you be willing not to do anything about it until … well, until a bit later?”

 

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