Don’t leave me alone here like this!
14
Moonlight danced on the waves. It was a clear night and the breeze was running fair. Kroova and Scarum lay sleeping under the bowspace. Sagax sat at the tiller, taking his turn as steersbeast. The shoreline was still in sight as the Stopdog steadily plowed her course north. All the young badger had to do was to tweak the rigging lines and check the vessel from veering landwards. He was also tweaking his conscience, trying not to think too hard about his mother and father back home at Salamandastron. Sagax had an idea that his parents had secretly allowed him to leave and go roaming; it was customary with young male badgers.
Yet somehow he had a feeling that he and Scarum had forced the issue through their rebellious behaviour. He decided that when they did eventually return home, he would become the model of good behaviour and obedience. Sagax chuckled to himself. But for now he would enjoy being a runaway!
Sitting there musing, he became aware of a flickering light coming across the waves toward the Stopdog. He sat, calmly watching until it appeared as a small boat with a tiny sail and two occupants. Hastily he roused Scarum and Kroova.
Wakey, wakey, you two sleeping beauties, we’ve got company coming.
Better arm ourselves in case they’re unfriendly.
Kroova took the cutlass. Scarum tossed a dagger to Sagax, clenching the other one between his teeth.
Trying hard to look fierce, he scowled. Haharr, buckoes! Woe to anybeast who crosses the path o’ Scarum the jolly wild tailslitter, wot!
The boat pulled alongside the Stopdog. It was crewed by a sleek grey seal and an old female sea otter. She sat calmly and cast an eye over the three, smiling at the sight of Scarum, who was trying to keep the dagger in his mouth whilst scowling around it.
Barnacles’n’binnacles! Will ye look at that pudden-headed young rabbit.
What’n the name o’ flukes’n’fishes are ye tryin’ to do, chop yore own tongue out?
Sagax could see that they were friendly. He extended a paw to help the sea otterwife aboard the Stopdog. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he did chop his tongue off, marm, it’d give us all a bit of peace. I’m Sagax.
The sea otterwife seized his paw in a grip that belied her many seasons and leapt sprightly aboard. My name’s Raura Shellrudd, pleased t’meet ye. That there seal is Slippo, me ole shipmate. Ahoy there, seadog, wot d’they call you?
Kroova winced as she shook his paw mightily. They calls me Kroova, marm, an’ that longeared scoffbag, well, y’can call’im anything, as long as ye don’t call’im late fer supper.
Scarum spat out the dagger, spluttering, Now see here, you two wavewallopers. One, I’m not a bloomin’ rabbit, an’ two, my name is Bescarum Lepuswold Whippscut, but you may call me Scarum. Tut rut, dear lady, no need for apologies, wot!
Raura shook his paw until Scarum flinched visibly. Wasn’t goin’ to apologise, matey. Kroova, I’m surprised at you. Yore no landlubberÑcan’t ye see a risin’ spring tide approachin’? Yore ship’ll get pounded t’splinters on the shore rocks if’n ye stays on this course, eh, Slippo?
Raising a shiny webbed paw, the grey seal called out, Room, kahonk woopa buhonk!
Scarum blinked at the seal. I say, what’s all that flippin’ great honkin’
row supposed t’mean?
Raura took a ropeline from Slippo and secured the prow of her boat to the stern of the Stopdog.
That ain’t no honkin’ row. Slippo’s just agreein’ with me. Shift yoreself, Sagax, I’ll take that tiller. Ye can come to our den an’ shelter from the’igh tide. I take it ye ain’t backward in coming forward if I was to offer youse a bite or two o’ supper, eh?
Scarum bowed gallantly to the sea otterwife. Beauty combined with brains, m’dear, a rare combination in these watery parts, wot. Supper! The word hangs on the bally night air like a lingerin’ melody!
Raura winked at Kroova, nodding toward Scarum. I bet that’n could eat the four legs off’n a table if’n there was no vittles on it.
Kroova sat next to Raura and trimmed the sails. You never spoke a truer word, marm!
High tide began rising as they beat their way up the coast. Seaspray shot in on the port side of the Stopdog. Raura took her visitors skilfully through a shoal of rock-strewn reefs. Slippo watched the friends’ faces, horrified as they sped through the perilous stone maze. The sleek seal clapped his flippers and laughed.
Ahuunk ahuunk ahuunkaaah!
Raura’s den was situated up a channel between some small cliffs. The passage twisted and doubled back upon itself so many times that it took all the force out of the sloshing water.
Slippo slid expertly onto a thickly seaweed-fringed ledge. He moored both vessels loosely, allowing them to ride up and down on the swell.
Raura explained.
Lashin’s o’ seaweed’ere, our liddle ships can bump against the rock forever. They won’t come t’no’arm. Away, boat’s crew, shift yoreselves, messmates, step lively now!
Sagax would never have guessed there was a cave at the rear of the ledge until Slippo drew aside a curtain of long trailing kelp. The friends hurried inside and stood staring wordlessly. It was a natural cave in the solid rock, with a crack in the roof serving as a chimney vent.
A fire, complete with stone-slabbed hearth and a rock oven, burned low but warm. Raura fed the flames with driftwood and sea coal as she chattered away.
Sit ye down there, you three. Slippo, where’s yore manners? Serve’em a drink an’ fetch me some bowls!
The seal rolled his huge liquid eyes. Kumhoo kohay! They sat on a shelf of rock padded with sailcloth cushions stuffed full of dried sea moss.
Slippo presented them with beakers fashioned from nautilus shells.
Scarum sipped warily. Hmm, this tastes like a bit of all right, wot!
Kroova smiled broadly. Crabapple an’ sweet woodruff tonic. I ain’t tasted this since I was nought but a shrimp!
Raura looked secretly pleased as she pulled a deep basin from the oven.
Fragrant smells wafted round the cave. Makes it to me own recipe. Nought like crabapple an’ sweet woodruff t’put a gleam in yore eye an’ a wag to yore rudder. Waif 11 ye taste my seastew an’ laverbread!
Scarum swigged away at his tonic drink heartily. Yours truly is willin’
to try anythin’, marm. But’laverbread’? What the deuce is that when it’s at home, wot?
Kroova accepted a wedge of the dark green loaf. Laver-bread’s made out of a special kind o’ seaweed. It’s a delicacy in coastal parts.
Sagax liked the laverbread. It was savoury tasting, a bit salty, but not unlike spring cabbage made into a loaf. The seastew was rare good eating, comprised of many types of shrimp and shellfish, thickened with cornflour and full of mushroom, potato, leek and carrot.
Kroova sampled it from his deep scallop-shell bowl. Beg pardon, marm, but’ave ye got any hotroot pepper?
Raura produced two small wooden boxes and a tiny spoon. This’un’s yore normal’otroot, but this other’un, hah, this is from my ole granpop’s store.’E used f make a livin’ fightin’ pirates. This pepper came from a corsair galley wot sailed from the far isles o’er the big ocean. I calls it Red Firebrand Pepper, ten times stronger’n’otroot!
Kroova sprinkled both peppers liberally on his seastew. He tried it, put the bowl down and bent double, making loud gasping noises. Grabbing his tonic, he quaffed a deep swig and straightened up. Tears poured from his reddened eyes and great beads of sweat stood out on his nosetip.