Scarum strode forward, flexing his ears. Actually, old chap, ‘twas me who wrestled the blighter, doncha know. When the jolly old shark was worn out, I sent Kroova in to deal him a whack or two, Scarum Sharkslayer at y’service, sah!
Cumarnee raised his bushy eyebrows. Weel now, aren’t ye the bold feller?
We’ll take a trip down t’the shore later an’ let ye show us how you wrestle wid d’great sharks. How’ll that suit ye?
The garrulous hare had his answer ready. Er, I’m restin’ at the moment.
Besides, y’won’t see a fin for miles around. Sharks know I’m here, y’see.
Oh yes, mention Scarum Sharkslayer an’ they paddle off pretty fast.
Can’t blame the poor cads really, can you, wot!
A pretty hogmaid of about sixteen seasons gazed adoringly at Scarum.
Faith, sorr, ye must’ve had some tumble times wid the ould sharks. I’d be afeared just to see one!
Sagax and Kroova were having trouble stifling their laughter. The hare glared at them and whispered, Titter not, chaps, got to impress the locals. They don’t give tramps very big portions, y’know. But I’ll bet they feed heroes like bloomin’ kings.
He turned to the hogmaid. No need t’be feared of sharks, m’dear, not whilst I’m around. Just before we go in to dinner, let me tell you the story of how I fought the great giant monster hog-eatin’ shark. Hah, that was a day I’ll never forget, eh, wot!
The Migooch tribe loved nothing better than a good story. They sat down on the sand and listened to Scarum’s horrendous, and totally untrue, account. He strutted about with his chest puffed out, shutting one eye and glaring ferociously at his audience.
This happened down the coast, south from Salaman-dastron, about, er, two summers ago. Were any of you chaps there at the time?
An oldster raised his paw. Meself was there, sorr!
Scarum twitched his whiskers. Er, no, ‘twas three summers back, now I come t’think of it. Paws up, anybeast who was there three summers back?
No paws were raised, so the hare continued with his lies. Ah yes, chaps’n’chapesses, ‘twas a bright sunny day an’ I was walkin’ along the shore, when all of a bally sudden two small hedgehogs, dear little types, came chargin’ out of the sea, cryin’ an’ wailin’ in pitiful voices.
Ho, Scarum Sharkslayer, they cried, save our granma!
A hogmaid tugged at Scarum’s footpaw. Pray, sorr, what was their names?
He stared down at the hogmaid. Don’t know, m’dear, I’d never met ‘em before. Now sit quietly an’ listen.
But she would not. Arrh, weel how did they know your name if ye didn’t know theirs, ‘cos you’d never met ‘em afore?
Scarum fixed her with an icy smile. Because, my inquisitive beauty, everybeast down that way knows the name of Scarum Sharkslayer, wot!
The oldster raised his paw. But I was never knowin’ your name afore today, sorr, an’ I been down thataways many times.
Shaking with mirth, Sagax and Kroova held their sides as Scarum began losing patience with his audience. He bellowed at the oldster, Well, y’must be flippin’ well deaf if you’ve been down south of Salamandastron an’ never bloomin’ well heard of Scarum Sharkslayer. Now shut your snout an’ listen!
He was about to continue when another paw was raised. Beggin’ yer pardon, sorr, but what was that shark’s name?
How should I flippin’ well know? Scarum roared. The blighter didn’t have a name, it was ... it was the blinkin’ great, bloomin’ giant, confounded monster, wot-jermacallit, hog-eatin’ shark. At least that’s what all the hedgehogs called it. Satisfied, eh, wot?
A hogwife shook her head wonderingly. Ah now, isn’t that the grand ould name for such a beast!
The hog sitting next to her ventured his opinion. D’ye think so? Well, I’m a hedgehog, so I am, an’ I never knew a shark with a name like that.
What was it called again, yer honour, I might be rememberin’ if’n ye tell me?
The hare danced up and down, waving his paws. The thing wotsabloomin’
name shark-eatin’ monster hog!
The little hogmaid tugged his footpaw again. Ah now, that’s not what ye said the first time, sorr.
The rest of the audience began discussing it among themselves, ignoring the storyteller.
Shure the maid’s right, he said a different name!
Away with ye, how’d you know, you was half asleep!
What, a monster shark-eatin’ hog? I’m thinkin’ that Scarum feller’s been out in the sun too long!
Ah now, you leave him alone, doesn’t he tell a fine ould tale. You go on, sorr, we’re lissenin’ to ye!
You lissenin’, hah,’twas you doin’ all the interrupting I take that from nobeast, stand up an’ say it t’me face if’n ye dare!
The storytelling became an argument, which broke out into a fight. Scarum gave up and sat down with his head in his paws. Sagax and Kroova were helpless with laughter as Cumarnee led them off.
Come an’ get some vittles. I forgot to tell your friend that the Migooch tribe is tumble at arguin’ an’ fightin’, so they are!
They were treated to huge bowls of vegetable soup, hot brown bread and some delicious mixed berry cordial, followed by an apple and pear turnover. Whilst they dined, the tent shook and bellied as the conflict raged outside. Cumarnee and Mammee carried on eating as though nothing was happening.
Cries from the combatants echoed round the dunes as Cumarnee and his wife passed the pie and poured cordial.
Take that, y’ould pincushion!
Yowch! Wait’ll I get me paws on ye!
I say there, chaps, steady on. Oof!
Owp! Kick me, would ye, well try this fer size!
Yerrrk! Ye great lump, you bit me nose, take that!
Steady on, chaps, now stop all this fightin’. Ooch!
Scarum staggered into the tent, one eye half-closed and rapidly changing colour, his nose looking puffy and swollen. Cumarnee moved over and made a place for him to sit.
The hedgehog chuckled. So now, me bold beast, how did the story end?
Scarum touched his swollen nose and winced.
The shark ate me, I think. Jolly ungrateful lot, your tribe. I say, that turnover looks rather good!
Kroova licked his lips and grinned happily. It certainly was, me old messmate. I’m just eatin’ the last slice.
The hare’s ears drooped in dejection as he gazed longingly toward the pot. An’ the soup?
Mammee picked up her ladle. Tis all gone nearly, but I’ll scrape ye up a drop from it. Here, take this ould crust of bread, sorr, ‘tis the last bit. Have ye any cordial left fer the great Sharkslayer?
Little Fridilo shook the empty flagon. None at all, Mammee, but there’s a beaker of fresh water over here. Drink that, sorr, ‘twill do ye good.
As Sagax and Kroova discussed the possibility of the Migooch tribe helping with the repairs to their ship, Scarum could be heard muttering complaints to himself.
Rotten lot, hoggin’ all the scoff while a chap’s out there defendin’
his reputation an’ tryin’ to restore order. Huh, I’d sooner face a score of sharks any day. Savage cads, bad-mannered bounders, hope a bloomtn’
great shark comes along an’ eats them all, wot!
19
In the misty dawn of the following day, they went out to the ledge, accompanied by all the able-bodied hogs of the Migooch tribe. It was the time of day when the tide was at its lowest ebb. The ketch Stopdog lay heeled over, almost high and dry.