“There is only one way to break a witch’s spell!” the witch had said. “You must pounce on her shadow, stand on her head and cry the words ‘Fiddlesticks to you, ma’am!’ before she whisks her shadow away. No spell is proof against this counter-witchcraft.”
When Gobbolino remembered this advice he grew quite crazy with excitement, and began to mew pitifully at the door, imploring the sailors to let him out.
For a long while nobody heard him, and when they did they quite refused to open the door.
“No, no, Gobbolino, the wind would blow you away, the waves would wash you overboard and the spray drown you. We cannot allow that. Stay where you are, and by and by when the storm is over we will let you out.”
“But I’m so frightened down here!” complained Gobbolino, trying to make his voice sound as piteous as possible.
“It is ten times more frightening up here,” said the sailor.
“I am so cold down here!” said Gobbolino.
“It is ten times colder up here!” said the sailor.
“I am so hungry down here!” sobbed Gobbolino.
“Well, I will see if I can find something for you to eat, if it has not all been washed away,” said the kind-hearted sailor, “but you must wait here like a good cat until I come back again.”
Gobbolino waited. As he listened to the groaning ship and the shriek of the storm that grew ever louder and louder, he thought that every minute theMary Maud must plunge to the bottom of the sea and be lost.
He could hear the sea witch singing her song over and over again as she circled the ship.
The sailors took her for a seagull, and her song for the cry of a bird, but to Gobbolino, born in a witch’s cave, a witch was always a witch, however she disguised herself, and he trembled to think of what she meant to do to theMary Maud and all the sailors on board her.
When at last his kind friend returned with a morsel of fish and some milk in a tin, Gobbolino could hardly wait for him to unfasten the door. He slipped between the sailor’s legs as the honest man stooped to lay the food before him, and was up on the deck in a flash.
“The cat has escaped!” the sailors cried who saw him, but theMary Maud was near her end, and no one could spare a hand from the ropes to grab at Gobbolino.
To his surprise he found they were not far from the shore, but the ship was running fast for a cruel-looking reef of rocks, and once she crashed on these there would be no hope left for her.
The night was gone and it was broad morning, but great clouds covered the sun, and where there was no sun there was no shadow for Gobbolino to jump upon. What is more, the sea witch flew aft the ship, as if she felt the danger of casting her shadow on it, and unless he could coax her nearer at the same time as the sun came out, theMary Maud and all aboard her would be lost.
Gobbolino had to cling with all his might to the ropes and sails to avoid being washed into the sea, but at last he found a more sheltered spot where the wind and water could not reach him, though showers of spray still drenched his fur and stung his eyes, alert to watch the passing of the sea witch.
Oh, joy! Oh, joy for Gobbolino, when all of a sudden the clouds rolled back, and the sun moved into a rift of clear blue sky that flooded the deck and bathed the battered ship in glory.
The sea witch circled out to sea, sweeping angrily past theMary Maud as if the cheering light annoyed her. Gobbolino was afraid she meant to fly away altogether, for the ship was bound for the rocks and nothing could save her.
And the sailors had suddenly caught sight of the little cat crouching in his corner.
“Save the cat! Save the cat!” they cried. “Put him in a basket, and if we strike the rocks he may float to shore!”
They left the ropes and six or seven of them ran to seize Gobbolino but he slipped out of their hands and leapt on to the cookhouse roof.
The cook, still busy with his pans in spite of the ship’s rolling, put out a hand to pull him inside, but Gobbolino made a leap and gained the Captain’s bridge. The Captain clutched him by the scruff of his neck. Gobbolino gave a wriggle, the ship plunged again, and they fell to the ground in a heap.
Gobbolino found his feet first and sprang up the remaining mast, up, up, up to the cross-trees, and there was not a man reckless enough to follow him there in such a tempest.
The sailors stood below wringing their hands, for they felt sure that at any moment their kitten would be flung into the sea, while the sea witch flew round the ship in ever-widening circles, and the next bank of storm clouds moved up to swallow the sun.
Even if the sea witch saw him crouching there in the rigging, it meant nothing to her that a small dark cat had been foolish enough to climb the mast with the ship breaking to pieces beneath him.
But Gobbolino could not let her vanish in this fashion:
“Mistress! Oh, mistress!” he cried above the storm. “Don’t you know me? Have you never met Grimalkin my mother, nor Sootica my little sister, nor my mistress the witch who lived in the cavern under the Hurricane Mountains? Oh, mistress! Oh, mistress! It is Gobbolino, the witch’s kitten,who is calling to you! For my mother’s sake, don’t leave me to drown on this miserable ship! Have mercy! Have mercy!”
The sea witch heard his pitiful cries and wheeled suddenly, just as she was preparing to fly away out of sight.
“Is it true what you say?” she cried above the storm. “If you are really a witch’s kitten, what are you doing on board this ship?”
“The sailors took me aboard!” piped Gobbolino. “I couldn’t escape – how could I, so far from the shore?”
“Witch’s kittens swim like seals!” said the sea witch suspiciously, creeping nearer and nearer the ship, but careful not to let her shadow fall upon the deck.
“It was so far to the shore, mistress, that I was afraid!” said Gobbolino, anxiously watching the bank of cloud drawing nearer and nearer the sun. “Oh, take me on your broomstick, kind mistress, and carry me back to the cave in the Hurricane Mountains! You would not let a witch’s kitten die, kind mistress?”
“Jump into the sea and swim!” said the sea witch. “When the ship is gone down I will pick you up on my broomstick and take you home again.”
“It is so far and so deep!” sobbed Gobbolino. “I am afraid! I am afraid!”
“And, oh, my goodness!” he thought to himself. “In one more minute the sun will be gone, and then nothing that I can do will save us!”
So he clung to the rigging with all his might and main, sobbing:
“Oh! Oh! Oh! The wind is pulling me off! I shall fall on the deck and be smashed into a thousand pieces, and what will my mother Grimalkin say, and my little sister Sootica, and my mistress the witch? I am falling! I am falling!”
“I will save you! Be ready to spring upon my broomstick as I pass!” cried the sea witch angrily as the ship wallowed once more into the depths of a wave, and the rim of the sun touched the bank of cloud.
Gobbolino crouched on the mast as the ship rose again, watching, watching the deck.
The anxious sailors, who had heard his pitiful mewing, but could not understand all that he said, stood watching too, each one ready to plunge into the sea to save him if he should fall.
The sunlight began to fade.
“Oh, my goodness, if it is already too late!” said Gobbolino, and now he saw the cruel reef of rocks rearing to the ship’s bows.
“Be ready!” shrieked the sea witch almost in his ear. “Spring!”
But as she passed him like a streak of summer lightning her shadow fell for one moment on the deck, and in that moment Gobbolino sprang, not on her broomstick, but right on to the shadow of her head, crying loudly:
“Fiddlesticks to you, ma’am!” – and with a shriek of rage the sea witch was gone.
“Traitor! Traitor!” she cried, as the wind swallowed her up and then a dead calm fell on the sea.