The Bellmaker

20

Late that night Joseph took delivery of the broken foremast from a squad of toads who had lugged it back from the marshes to the Pearl Queen. Finnbarr had rigged a block and tackle to haul it aboard, and Joseph, Rosie and some others stood by with rope lashings, metal pins, wooden splints, and spars to fix the mast firm when it was hoisted. Durry and Rufe helped the Guosim to patch the hole in the forard lockerthe shrews were expert boat repairers and worked well under Log-a-Logs direction. With melted pitch, rope caulking, and planks, they soon had the gap sealed and the hull seaworthy again.

A fire had been built farther along the shore. Patch tended it carefully until it was reduced to glowing embers. Countless fireflies, trapped inside lanterns, glimmered and twinkled as the marshtoads surrounded the nearly extinct fire. Patch hailed the ship. “Ahoy, Pearl Queen, if this fire gets any lower, Glogalog wont be able to do his magic. Youd best fetch him now!

Rosie left the mast repair gang to supervise the loading of the King, together with ten jugs of seaweed grog, onto the framed hammock. Finnbarr nodded to her. “You an* Patch git back aboard sharpish, miz. The tides arisin an waits for nobeast.

Marshtoads moved aside to let the hammock be set down beside the fire. Glogalog grunted as they heaved him out of his comfortable bed. Rosie gave him a swig of seaweed grog; his bulging eyes popped out further as he held it without swallowing. Skipping around the edge of the circle Rosie began singing in a serious baritone voice, a song she had made up for the occasion.

“Stand back and watch this Bulgum toad,

Hes goin to do some magic,

But if young Rufe has taught him wrong,

It could turn out quite tragic.

Get back to the ship now, Patch,

Ill be right behind you,

Glogalog oh please dont sneeze,

Or they will never find you.

Careful when you spit that grog,

Dont stand near the venue,

Or youll end up crispy fried,

On the marshtoad menu!

With a twitch of her ears, Rosie signaled to Glogalog, who spat the grog over the embers, causing a sheet of flame to flare skyward. The marshtoads hopped about croaking with fright and excitement at their Kings magical skill. Glogalog took another swig and, swallowing half, he spat out the rest, causing another upburst of flame.

Rosie took advantage of the jubilant melee to make good her escape.

Smiling foolishly, Glogalog continued to swig great quantities of the lethal seaweed grog. Some he spat at the fire, but for the most part he was happy to guzzle the grog, now that he had a taste for it. Spraying and spitting the stuff at random, he soon had several marshtoads croaking in distress as they hurled wet sand on their smoldering webs and beat out threads of flame racing around their gills.

Pearl Queen righted herself on the incoming tide and bobbed in the water with her keel free of the sand. Joseph watched anxiously as the large rollers started to crash along the tide line, rapidly eating up the land. The breeze was springing up stiffly as he helped Durry and Rufe to haul their friend Patch aboard.

Finnbarr stood ready with a heaving line. “Wheres Rosie? We cant wait, even with slack sails! he shouted.

Out of the darkness Rosie made herself heard. “Whoo-hahahooh! Over here, chaps. Comin aboard, ahoy, an all that nautical nonsense!

The sea otter shot the line out to the long-limbed figure pounding through the surf toward his vessel. Rosie caught it with her usual accuracy and was soon pulled aboard. She lay on the deck chortling helplessly. “Whooha! Better pile on all sail, Finn. The way old Glogathing was performin back there, I think its all goin to end in tears. Whoohahahooh!

Directly after she had finished speaking, there was a loud bang from the shore, and sheets of flame shot up high into the night sky. Finnbarr took Rosies advice quickly.

“Hoist all sail, mates, sharp now, jump to it, on to those yardarms an1 loose every stitch of canvas on *er!

By the light of following explosions, masses of angry marshtoads could be seen, hopping across the beach toward Pearl Queen. Having unfurled the sails, the crew took boarding pikes and any long timbers they could find and, pushing hard, they punted the vessel, trying their best to get her into deep water, away from the hordes of maddened toads speeding over the shore toward them.

Pearl Queen bobbed on the incoming waves, slow and stately, despite the frantic pushing of her crew. Rufe, Durry, and Patch sweated and struggled at the stem. Then there was a massive bang as the jugs of grog and the canopied hammock rose skyward in a searing column of flame. The three friends felt a blast of heat from the explosion. Marshtoads threw themselves flat across the sand and in the shallows of the tideline. Finnbarr slammed the tiller hard over, sending Pearl Queen listing perilously as she turned side on to the shore.

Rosie was propelled across the deck; she cannoned into the rail glaring at the sea otter. “I say, whatn the name of seasons are you up to? *

Finnbarr Galedeep kept an experienced eye on the sails. “You leave it to an able-bodied seabeast, marm. Were goin to run the rollers!

The toads had begun clambering up the stern now. Striking out with their long spars and pikes, the defenders knocked them off into the water. Other toads climbed on the heads of their floundering companions to leap at the ship.

The sea otter gave a triumphant shout. “Avast, cullies, ang on tight, were away!

A prolonged gust of wind howling down out of the north clouted Pearl Queens sails and she took off like a javelin. Bows lifting high, the great ship scudded free on the roller crests, speeding along parallel to the shore. Finnbarr played the tiller deftly, skipping her from one wavetop to the next, veering and tacking out to open sea in a dainty sidestepping dance.

Behind on the shore a scorched and blackened Glog-alog sat smoldering in helpless rage, watching his marsh-toads flopping helplessly in the waves, as the ship carrying his former Bulgums sailed off into the night. Struggling upright, he shook his scepter at the receding vessel and croaked venomously, “Yurrg Golchukkum furgalumm Boolawugg! A combination of marshtoad curse and insult that would have caused any interpreter to blush deeply.

Dawn light reflected twinkling greengold across the restless waves. Finnbarr yawned aloud as he relinquished the tiller to Joseph. “I dont knows wot I want first, matey, a good sleep or a decent breakfast. Twas a long, ard night.

The Bellmaker shoved his sea otter friend playfully. “Get along with you, go on. Ill hold her head south. The shrews are making you a victory breakfast for sailing us out of that scrape last nightonly a Galedeep like yourself could have done it.

Finnbarr was instantly revived as he sniffed the delicious aromas wafting from the galley. Guosim shrews laid the food out on the hatch covers amidships; there was October ale, raspberry cordial, and hot mint tea, a plum and pear pudding, meadowcheese, and fresh farls of shrewbread, piping hot from the oven. Pearl Queens crew cheered their skipper until the summer morning air rang to their cries.

Finnbarr bowed modestly before launching himself at the food with a formidable appetite. “Fall to, messmates and elp an ole seadog to clear these vittles! Ahoy there, Foremole, wots that thing yore carryin?

“Oi found et, zurr. Twurr idden in ee forard cabin! Reverently the sea otter took the small melodeon that Foremole presented to him.

“Wallopin clamshells, tis me ole ottercordion, I thought it were tost. Wonder if she still works?

Twiddling his paws across the buttons, he expanded the instruments ribbed bellows, and it produced a melodic chord. Much to the delight of everybeast Finnbarr threw back his head and began singing a merry sea otter ditty. Durry, Rufe, and Patch stamped their paws on the deck rhythmically in time to the comic song. It was a happy release for them all after the perils they had endured, and Finnbarr could play as well as he could sing.

“Whoa there was an ole lobster who married a cod,

Boggle me barnacles, sail off tsea,

And tho* all the cockles an clams thought it odd,

Boggle me barnacles, over the brine,

I knows yer a codfish but darlin yore mine!

For a weddin brekkfist the pair ad to feed,

Boggle me barnacles, sail off t sea,

On rootybag cake an the best of seaweed,

Boggle me barnacles, over the brine,

I knows yer a lobster but I loves yer fine!

They was married offshore by a little fat whale,

Boggle me barnacles, sail off tsea,

An the guests drank barrels of deepwater ale,

Boggle me barnacles over the brine,

Pass me that flagon of green ocean wine!

The party went on til an hour before dark,

Boggle me barnacles, sail off tsea,

An they were ate up by an iggerant shark,

Boggle me barnacles over the brine,

A shark dont ave manners when hes out to dine!

Amid hoots of laughter and loud applause Finnbarr did an encore, with Rosie and Foremole dancing the parts of lobster and cod. They breakfasted until mid-morning, the weather being calm and the seas mild. Joseph lashed the tiller straight south. Having missed a full nights sleep, the entire crew lay about on the sun-warmed decks to take a few hours of much-needed rest.

In the heat of mid-noon Rufe woke parched. Bleary-eyed, he drew a dipper of water from the ships drinking cask and drank half, pouring the rest over his head to waken himself properly. Blinking water from his eyes, the young squirrel stared out over the gently swelling deep.

Finnbarr was wakened by Rufe shaking him. “Eh, wot time is it, mate? Musta been asleep alf o the day! Ru-feysomethin the matter, young un?

The squirrel tried to keep his voice calm. “Er, this morning, Mr. Finnbarr, you sang a song about cods an* lobsters being eaten up by a shark ...

The sea otter stretched luxuriously. “Aye, so I did Ru-fey. Dye want me to teach ye the words?

“No, sir. Id just like to know what a shark looks like. “Bless yer eart, matey, you dont sees much of em, an you dont wants to neither. Mainly all youll see is a great dark fin stickin up out o the water.

Rufe took the sea otters tattooed paw and led him to the rail. “Does it look like this one circling our ship, sir?