A brass-earringed searat stepped forward, pointing. "No it ain't, that belt's mine. I'd know it anywheres, sharkskin, wid a green stone in a round brass buckle!"
"I found it lyin' by me bunk!" Foulscale protested.
Vilu Daskar strode over to Foulscale's belongings. With his swordpoint he flicked the belt to its owner, then addressed Foulscale.
"You stole the belt. Get over there with the others!"
Ashen-faced, the weasel walked over to join an evergrowing band of Sea Rogues who had been caught with the property of fellow shipmates among their gear.
It was high noon by the time the search ended. Those who were innocent stood in line, looking greatly relieved. More than a score of vermin, who had been caught in possession of stolen property, huddled miserably around the mainmast, awaiting the consequences.
Vilu Daskar delivered his judgment for all to hear. "I know you are not the thieves I seek. Somebeasts are plundering wholesale from this ship. Make no mistake, I will find them and punish them slowly to the death. There will be an end to thieving aboard my Goreleech. But you who have been caught, you are still guilty of stealing from your shipmates and must be punished. Thank your lucky stars I am in a lenient mood, and keep your paws to yourselves in future. Akkla, Parug, Bullflay, hoist them up by their tails and give them twenty lashes apiece, sluice them with salt water, let them hang there until sunset, then cut them down. The rest of you will witness the floggings as a reminder never to steal while aboard the red ship!"
Vurg and Beau perched on their raft, well hidden by the overhang of the high carved stern. They could not avoid hearing the screams and wails of the miscreants as they were subjected to the whipping. Neither had any pity for Sea Rogues.
"Makin' more noise than a school of confounded bottle-noses, wot. That'll teach 'em honesty's the best policy!"
"Aye, there's only one thing worse'n a thief, Beau."
"Indeed, an' what is that, pray?"
"Two thieves!"
"Haw haw, rather good that, Vurg."
"We'll 'ave t'be more careful of a night from now on, mate. They'll be watchin' for us, y'know."
"Of course they jolly well will, so you do the stealin' an' I'll keep 'em diverted in me Sea Bogle costume, eh?"
Vurg chuckled. "Sea Bogle, wot a load of ole nonsense!"
Beau fixed two horns he had made from dried bladderwrack to his ears. He waggled them and scowled fiercely. "Talk not like that of ye Sea Bogle, old lad, or I'll put a spell from the dark murky deeps upon thee!"
Vurg closed his eyes, enjoying the warm noon sun. "Pity you can't put a spell on yore stummick, stop it needin' so much food, y'great fat fraud!"
"Steady on there, m'good mouse, us Sea Bogles need nourishment if we're to perform properly. No self-respectin' Sea Rogue'd be scared of a half-starved skinny Bogle. Er, any more of that skilly'n'duff left?"
"There's some in the bowl. Help yoreself, I imagine you'll spirit it away without too much trouble. What are you writin' there? The ship's log of our raft, the Floatin' Fender? Put me down as mouse mate, an' you c'n be cap'n Bogle."
Beau was scraping away with a charcoal stick on a strip of canvas, his tongue sticking out at the side of his mouth. "Actually it's a poem I'm composin' about Bogles. Some of those ignorant vermin may be unaware of the tale, so I'm doin' a bit of publicity for meself, doncha know."
Vurg winced as they heard the splash of water, followed by more agonized wailing from the upper decks. "Ooh! Must sting somethin' awful, bein' flogged an' gettin' salt water chucked on the cuts."
The hare was unmoved as he continued writing. "Prob'ly the only decent wash they've had since their dear old mothers used to scrub 'em in the tub when they were babes. There's a thoughtcan you imagine a filthy beastly little pirate babe bein' scrubbed in a tub? I'll wager his language would frazzle his auntie's slippers, wot?"
In the crew's accommodation that night, the vermin who had been released sat nursing their hurts, while others swaggered about, displaying the treasured gear they had thought lost. The rest huddled around the mess table, playing an old searat game with shells and fruit pips. The entire crew jumped with fright as the cabin door slammed open. Parug staggered in as if his paws were made of jelly, grasping a long strip of sailcloth.
The searat Willag helped him to a seat at the table. "Wot's the matter, bosun? Y'look as if y've seen a ghost."
Somebeast passed him a tankard of barnacle grog. He drank the fiery liquor in one long swallow, and it was dribbling down his chin as he stared wildly about.
" 'Twas the Sea Bogle, mates. I saw the Sea Bogle wid me own two eyes, on me affydavit I did!"
A chilled silence fell over the crew. Parug was quite a stolid rat, not given to silly imaginings. The tankard was refilled and Parug took a deep swig before continuing, "I jus' came out to patrol the deck, searchin' for a sign of any thieves. Before I could blink a glim it 'ad me by the throat. Long long arms it 'ad, like steel, I couldn't move! I tell ye, shipmates, I'll never be the same agin after seein' the Bogle. It 'ad great big horns, three eyes, an' a face that was all lit up, glowin'! Covered it was, wid 'orrible flowin' weeds from the bed o' the seas, all wet an' drippin'. Ugh! 'Twas too terrifyin' to describe!"
Willag took a gulp from the tankard Parug had put down. "Why didn't yer run an' tell the cap'n?"
Parug shot him a haunted glance, whispering dementedly, "Cap'n won't 'ear of it, 'e don't believe in Bogles. I couldn't tell 'im, mate, 'e would've slayed me!"
Foulscale temporarily forgot his stinging back. "Did the Bogle speak to ye, Parug? Wot did it say?"
The bosun held up the canvas strip. "It never said nothin', jus' growled an' gave an awful squeak, like a bottlenose dolphin. Then it pressed this sailcloth inter me paw, let go of me neck an' stood there."
Foulscale shook his head in amazement. "So wot did you do?"
"Do? Wotjer think I did? I ran off, fast as I could!"
"Is it still out there, d'ye think?"
"I don't know. Go an' look fer yoreself!"
"Wot? Lissen, mate, I ain't movin' out o' this cabin 'til it's daylight an' the sun's shinin', so there!"
The crew nodded their heads vigorously in agreement.
Willag picked the sailcloth from Parug's shaking paws. "See, there's writin' on it. Wot does it say, Parug?"
"I don't know, I can't read letters or words."
Grigg the searat beckoned to Willag. "Give it 'ere. I can read. Let's see wot it sez."
Grigg read it out in halting tones. He could read, but only just. His voice echoed out in the awed silence.
"From the dark and icy deeps,
Where the dreaded Bogle sleeps,
He'll rise one night and climb aboard your ship,
Bringing fear and deathlike doom,
To your very cabin room,
Beware the Bogle's clammy vicelike grip!
Aye, woe betide that crew,
Sailing on the main so blue,
And to those who don't believe me double grief,
When the Bogle takes a meal,
You will hear a dreadful squeal,
He strikes when nighttime falls, just like a thief!
Aye, who of you can tell,
Give him gifts and feed him well,
Then the Bogle may slide back into the sea,
But if gifts and food be few,
Hearken now, for it is true,
The Bogle may eat you, or even me!
Crack some ribs or crush a skull,
Stuff down hearts 'til he is full,
Rip paws and tails off any poor seabeast,
Lock your cabin doors this night,
Shake with terror, quake with fright,
For the Bogle may invite you to his feast!"
Grigg was quaking so badly when he finished the poem that he dropped the canvas. Willag was the first to move. He dashed to the cabin door and locked it, calling down the long smoky cabin to his mates, "Bar those skylights, batten 'em down tight! Trim the lamps an' clean 'em, we need it good'n'bright in 'ere!"