Kroova stood on the tideline, explaining what was to be done. We’ve got to get’er back’ere for fixin’. I know she ain’t a big craft, but’twill be’eavy goin’.
Cumarnee spat on his paws and rubbed them together. Ah, now don’t ye fret. Us Migooches are well up t’the job!
He was right. The tribe were expert salvagers, having spent their lives living off the flotsam and jetsam thrown up by the seas on all types of coastlines.
Carrying huge coils of rope and pushing a cartload of rounded wood logs, they padded out over the wet sand. When they reached the ketch, Cumarnee began shouting orders to his tribe. Sagax was surprised at the energy and obedience of the normally disorganised beasts.
Hear me now, buckoes, Cumarnee yelled. Make fast those lines t’the bowsprit, for’ard peak an’ amidships. I’ll draw ye a grand ould line in the sand with me stick, lay the logs straight on it. That’s the way, yer doin’ a lovverly job. Right now, shoulder those ropes an’ I’ll mark the pullin’ time for ye with an ould shanty!
Cumarnee perched in the lopsided bows of the Stop-dog, singing the hauling shanty, the pullers joining him on the appropriate lines as the ketch rolled forward on the logs.
Ahoy, me lads, when I was young, Many’s the lively song I sung. Way haul away! Way haul away! Me paw was strong, me back was, too, I’d pull a ship from under you. Way haul away! Way haul away! An’ though’tis not me way t’boast, I’ve towed a ship off many a coast. Way haul away!
Way haul away! We’ll pull’er to the sandy shores, So bend yer back, dig in yer paws. Way haul away! Way haul away! For when I was a babe so young, Me mother o’er me cradle sung. Way haul away! Way haul away!
Kroova and Sagax were out in front, ropes looped about their shoulders, hauling heartily with the hedgehogs. The badger nudged the sea otter.
Scarum’s on the midship side with a rope, can you hear him?
Kroova smiled as he listened to the hare’s nautical bellows.
When I get our ship to the shore,
I’ll need some scoff an’ then lots more.
You can haul away! I’ll just eat all day!
Soup’n’salad, pudden an’ pie,
Just load me plate up, don’t ask why.
Bloomin’ rotten hogs! Scoff-pinchin’ dogs!
Mammee and some others were waiting the other side of the tideline with a couple of pails full of nettle-and-dandelion beer. No sooner was the Stopdog dragged onto the warm dry sand than the toilers cast aside their ropes and gratefully gulped down great beakers to quench their thirst.
However, their rest was short-lived. Cumarnee soon had them up on their paws again, bustling about as he sent his orders left, right and centre.
Tis a good fire I’ll be needin’! Light one right here! Build me an ould sandhill, a long one, about the height of the Stopdog’s decks. Here now, start pilin’ up the sand alongside the ship. Mammee, did ye bring along the pitch an’ resin with ye? Bring it here t’me. Fridilo, me likkle dar-lin’, fetch me that ould bushy rope. Aye, that’s it!
Sagax and Kroova helped to build the long sandhill and wedge the Stopdog hard up against it. Another sandhill was built on the vessel’s other side, so that she stood straight and upright. They sat, taking a rest, sipping beakers of nettle-and-dandelion beer, watching the pitch and resin bubbling together in a cauldron over the fire.
Kroova’s eyes searched among the workers. I don’t see Scarum around, ain’t seen ‘im in a while. Any ideas where that flopeared layabout’s got to, mate?
Sagax refilled his beaker. Anywhere there’s food, that’s where you’ll find him, I suppose. That pitch and resin looks about ready.
The crew went back to work, plugging up the gaps between the planking staves of the Stopdog’s bows. Old rope was hammered into the cracks with mallets and flat-bladed chisels, after which the molten pitch and resin were poured liberally over the whole job. By early evening the ketch was completely shipshape and watertight once more.
Sagax congratulated Cumarnee and the Migooch tribe. Thank you, friends, thank you for your hard work and fine skills. I don’t know how we’d have managed without your help. Alas, my friends and I have nothing to offer you in return but our gratitude.
Cumarnee swiped playfully at them with his straw hat. Arrh, away with ye, we did it ‘cos yer grand beasts an’ we’ve takin’ a likin’ to ye.
A Migooch doesn’t look for any reward from friends, at all at all!
All the Migooches shook their heads and echoed the words. At all at all, ah no, not at all!
Mammee waved her ladle at them. Faith, an’ will ye be after standin’
there all day, tellin’ each other wot fine creatures ye are, or will I go back to the tenty to cook dinner an’ eat it meself?
The sudden mention of food to hungry workers sent them all trudging smartly back to the tents.
Sagax covered his eyes and groaned at the sight that greeted him on entering the tent. Oh no!
Snoring blissfully, Scarum lay amid a debris of half-eaten pies, breadcrusts, salad scraps, empty flagons and the remains of what had once been a large fruitcake. The hare’s stomach resembled an inflated balloon. His whiskers, ears and nose were liberally sprinkled with crumbs.
Some of the Migooch hogs regarded him with awe.
Muther Nature, will ye look at him!
Ah shure, he must be a grand ould scoffer!
The bold feller must have t’keep up his strength after wrasslin’ an’
slayin’ all those sharks!
Kroova and Sagax had never felt so embarrassed in their lives. Shamefaced, the otter averted his eyes from Mammee. Marm, what can we say, after all yore ‘ospitality, for a friend of ours t’do this!
The good hogwife patted his paw comfortingly. Ah now, don’t be fussin’
yerself, ‘twas not yore fault a hare has the appetite of a wolfpack.
Wot d’ye say we do about it, Cumarnee?
The Chieftain of the Migooches had the answer instantly. Do? Is it me advice yer after askin’? Well, I’ll tell ye! We goes to yer sister’s tenty for dinnerÑshe’s gotten more vittles than ye could shake a stick at. Arrh now, Mr. Sagax, an yerself, Mr. Kroova, if’n ye’ll permit me,’tis me-self will decide a penance for the bold Scarum. Now don’t be worryin’, I won’t go too hard on the ould beast. He can’t help bein’
a hare, after all.
Sagax bowed respectfully to Cumarnee’s wish. You can do what you like with the villain, sir. No penance could be too severe for a creature who abuses a friend’s good nature. We leave him in your capable paws.
Mammee’s sister Roobee was a jolly fat sort, and the equal of her kinhog at cooking. They sat down to a spread of cabbage’n’turnip pasties, carrot’n’mushroom bake topped with cheese, wild beetroot soup, and Roobee’s special baked fruitloaf, with elderberry and plum cordial, or pen-nycress and comfrey tea for those who liked it. Roobee’s husband, Birty, thought Scarum’s gluttony was hilarious and kept remarking upon it.
Heeheehee, curl me spikes, that Scarum Sharkslayer’s a real boyo. He’s got a belly on him like an ould stuffed duck. I wager his ma danced a jig the day he left home!
Roobee noticed Sagax and Kroova’s silence at Scarum’s gluttonous acts.
She nudged her husband none too gently. Arrh, will ye shove some vittles in yer ould gob an’ give it somethin’ useful t’do, Birty. Eat up an’