Part Three: James' Secret
James’ forehead and eye were perfectly normal. But the thing that took my breath away was the fact that the face staring at me wasn’t the face of a boy younger than me, but a girl about my own age!
“You’re a girl?” I asked in surprise.
Quick as lightning, “James” grabbed the cloth and tried to jerk it away from me, but only succeeded in pulling me headfirst into the crow’s nest. “Give me that!” she cried in a panic. She snatched the bandanna from my fingers, pulled a knife from her belt, and held it uncertainly with the tip extended toward me as if she were ready to gut me like a sea bass. “Why did you do that?” she demanded.
Eyeing the knife, I tried to edge away. Unfortunately, the crow’s nest offered very little space for that. “I-I came up here so you could take a break,” I stammered. “Captain’s orders.”
“He told you to come up here?” she asked. Her voice sounded cold and ruthless, but I realized later that at that moment, she was as scared as I was. Which I gotta say was pretty darn scared. “And was he the one who told you to do this, too?” she demanded, holding up the bandanna. Her voice was a sort of alto, high pitched but not so much that she hadn’t been able to make it sound masculine.
“No,” I insisted. “I just did that as a joke, honest. I never thought that you were… well…”
She nodded. “Okay, I believe you. But you can’t tell anyone about this.”
I gulped. “I won’t tell, I swear,” I said. “Could you uh… put the knife away now?”
With a surprising air of relief, she stuck the knife in her belt. Then she sat down and began to cover her head with the cloth.
“So why did you sneak on board?” I asked.
She stopped in the middle of wrapping her head, looked at me contemplatively, then let out a breath. “I suppose I might as well tell you. I ran away from home because my father wanted me to marry someone I didn’t like.”
“Marry?” I echoed. She looked at least one, maybe two years too young to marry anyone. “But you can’t be any older than I am.”
“I tried pointing that out,” she answered. “It’s something rich families do.”
“Figures,” I snorted. “Rich people never make sense.”
She seemed offended. “Well, Mother tried to take my side, but Father said it was his decision.”
I nodded. “Tough dad,” I commented, wondering if my father had been like that. I suddenly gained a new appreciation for the fact that I’d been born a boy instead of a girl. “So you ran away and got hired on this ship to get away from it, huh?”
She nodded. “The dog he wanted me to marry was a real nightmare. My father said ‘he has a lot of money and a good pedigree,’ but just talking to him made me sick.”
“Is he that bad?” I asked.
She shivered. “Worse. He’s a monster whenever Father isn’t around. Our housekeeper used to say she thought he was Satan in disguise, and his friends were ‘a troupe of arch-demons.’” She glanced at the sun and added, “You’d better take the watch or the captain will send someone up here to check on us.”
I nodded, picked up the spyglass, and stood up. She stayed sitting down. “Shouldn’t you be going?” I asked.
She looked over the edge, glanced in the direction of the foredeck, then ducked down again. “Maybe later,” she muttered with a shiver.
I looked in the direction she’d been looking, but didn’t see anyone on that part of the ship except Silver talking to the captain. “How’d you get this job anyway if the captain thinks you only have one good eye?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I just told him I didn’t have many skills, but I really needed the work and was willing to do it for half-wage in exchange for training.” With another tremor she added, “Now I wish I’d stayed home or picked a different ship.”
I was embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to… well I didn’t know, or…”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not you. The dog my father wanted me to marry is on this ship.”
I almost dropped the telescope. “You’re joking!”
“Don’t I wish. You work for him, sort of.”
“I work for him?” I asked. Then it hit me. “He wanted you to marry Silver?!” I gasped in shock. Silver, who had to be over twice her age? “But that dog is old enough to be your dad!”
“Why do you think I didn’t want to marry him?” she asked. “Besides, I could tell right away he was no good.”
“No good?” I asked, feeling the need to defend my friend. “I’ll admit he’s old for you, but he seems like a nice guy.”
“You'll never have to worry about marrying him,” she retorted.
I had to admit she had me there. “Was he really that bad, though?”
She nodded. “He’s nothing but a faker. His real name isn’t even Silver, it’s Steele.”
I nodded. “Yeah, the squire said something about that.”
She looked up at me anxiously. “You can’t tell him who I am, please,” she begged.
Despite the risk of being caught off-duty, I bent down to look her in the eye. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “Your secret’s safe with me. I promise.”
She smiled. “Thanks.” Then she looked down and I felt her paw sliding out from under mine. I hadn’t even known it was there!
Clearing my throat and trying not to meet her gaze, I glanced over the edge and surveyed the deck. “Looks like he’s gone,” I told her. “You’d probably better go now.”
She nodded. “Thanks,” she whispered as she climbed over the edge of the crow’s nest and onto the rigging.
I nodded and then realized something. “Hey!” I called.
She stopped her descent. “Yes?” she asked in her usual male falsetto.
“I don’t know your name.”
She glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then mouthed, “Jenna.”
I nodded. “OK. See you later.”
She nodded back with a look of desperation on her face as if I needed to be reminded how serious the situation was. Then she slowly climbed down the ropes.
“Jenna,” I said slowly to settle her name in my mind. I knew it was dangerous, lest I let it slip and give away her secret. But I figured if I knew, I might as well keep it in my mind.
That night I dreamed I was the best man at a wedding. Jenna was the bride, and Silver… no, Steele was the groom. I stood there as the ceremony began. Then the priest asked, “If anyone has a reason why this girl should not be married to this man, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.”
Jenna’s mouth seemed to be glued shut, but her face spoke volumes. “I do,” I said.
All eyes turned to me. “And what is your reason?” asked the priest.
I tried to answer. “He’s too old for her, and she’s too young for anybody,” I wanted to say. “She doesn’t want to marry him. It’s only her father who wants her to.” I tried to give a reason, any of the reasons on my mind, but no sound came out when I moved my lips. I was so unnerved I started to shake like someone having a seizure.
“Balto?” asked the priest. “Balto, what is your reason? Balto? Balto…”
“Balto!” yelled a voice, startling me awake. With a yell of surprise, I flipped and fell out of my bunk. “AAAH!”
The “priest” from my dream was Togo. “You’re late, Balto!” he yelled. “Hurry up, I’ve been shaking you for ten minutes.”
“Sorry,” I apologized, staggering to my feet and grabbing for my boots. “I guess I overslept.”
He nodded. “Dreaming about someone back home?” he inquired.
Still blinking sleep from my eyes, I drawled, “Wha…?”
He smirked just a little. “You were saying some girl’s name or other.”
I wanted to slap myself. Bonehead! I could have blown Jenna’s secret wide open in my sleep! “Er, uh, yeah, just someone I… know,” I stammered. “But, uh, would you mind not mentioning it?”
He smiled. “Young lad, I won’t breathe a word.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir.”
I tried not to act like anything was amiss around Mr. Silver as I went about my duties in the kitchen, but I guess I didn’t do such a good job because he finally asked, “What?”
“Huh?” I asked.
“You were looking at me kind of funny,” he answered, studying me closely. “Like I had something on my face.”
I shook my head. “No, there’s nothing on your face.”
He seemed puzzled for a minute, then laughed. “You've been talking to the crew, haven't you?” he asked.
I shrugged, trying to look innocent and praying like crazy that he wasn’t as good as my mother at seeing through an act. “One or two of ‘em, I guess,” I admitted. “Mostly the only ones I talk to are the squire and the doctor.”
Silver chuckled. “Well, don’t take anything the others say too seriously. They’re good sailors, but a rough bunch. And they tend to say strange things now and then, but there’s a saying that us sailors will believe anything.”
“Do you?” I asked.
“Not really,” he shrugged. “I've got to see something myself to believe it, most of the time. But you just be wary of them, especially that wolverine.”
I nodded. “Mr. Scroup,” I replied with a gulp. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on getting buddy-buddy with him anytime soon.”
Silver grinned and clapped me on the back. “Smart pup,” he approved. “Just keep a good head on your shoulders, and let me know if you hear anything interesting. Fair?”
I nodded, wondering what he meant by ‘anything interesting.’ If I had known then what I would know later, though, the part about my head would have been a lot higher on my worry list.
Especially after what happened next.
For two days we sailed under gray, cloudy skies. The winds became rough and unpredictable. We were going somewhat faster, but I could tell from what the other sailors said that it was getting hard to tell where we were.
Then the storm hit. It was worse than any nightmare I'd ever had, even the ones inspired by Billy Bones' stories. The wind howled, and became so fierce that Captain Orde ordered us to take down all the sails. Silver had to put out the fire in the kitchen, and the crew was forced to eat dried rations and hard tack, biscuits so hard that they would have been more use as weapons than food. Work on deck was canceled entirely, except for a few crew members periodically sent up with lifelines tied to their waists so they wouldn't be washed overboard. Their reports came back grim: waves as high as mountains, lightning slashing down like falling knives, and wind so fierce that ropes stood out from the masts as straight as ramrods. One time Scroup and Togo went up. As we waited below, both lifelines suddenly went taut. Then one went limp, and about a minute later the other one followed suit. Scroup came rushing down, soaked and gasping.
“What happened?” asked the captain. Then, looking even more worried than he already did, he added, “Where is Togo?”
Scroup coughed. “A wave... knocked us off the deck. We was dangling over the side, an' 'is lifeline broke. I tried to grab 'im, but...” he hung his head. “Sorry Cap'n,” he muttered. “'E's long gone.”
Orde paused, then took off his hat and hung his head, laying the hat against his chest. All of us who wore hats or headcloths followed suit except for Jenna, who kept hers on. After a moment, the captain spoke. “Togo was a fine sailor. Better than any of us could hope to be. He knew the risks, and he did his duty regardless.” He lifted his eyes. “We'll have no more checks up on deck. We must wait the storm out.”
The hoped-for end came at night about a week after Togo disappeared. I realized it the following morning when I woke up and noticed my bunk wasn't swaying as much as it usually did. Instead of pitching violently back and forth, it rocked gently like a baby's cradle, up and down. I wearily climbed out of bed, changed clothes, and headed up to the deck. The sky was blue. I'd never known it could look so beautiful! There were scarcely any clouds, and the sun shone bright and clear. Around me, other sailors were coming up from below, first blinking in the light and then laughing and throwing their arms up in the air as if to embrace the sun and clear sky. I noticed Orde exiting the hatch, a wide grin painted on his face. “Gents,” he announced, “We've got our sailing weather back again!”
A cheer arose from the sailors, and I felt a stout paw strike me on the back. It wasn't a heavy blow, but the surprise made me stumble. I turned and saw Steele grinning down at me. “We'll make it where we're goin' yet, pup!” he exulted.
I smiled. Maybe Jenna had her doubts about him, but in my book, right at that moment, he was alright.
If only I had known his real plans.
One night some days later, when we were close to our destination, I awoke feeling hungry. Wearily, I slipped from my bunk and tiptoed out of the sleeping quarters to the kitchen. No one was there. I made my way by the light that shone down from the open hatch to the apple barrel, which by now was nearly empty. The fruit was so far down I had to climb onto a box beside it and then inside the barrel to get one. I was just about to take a bite when I heard footsteps coming down into the kitchen. It sounded like a whole crowd was coming down, and last of all came the familiar thump, clunk, thump, clunk of Steele on his crutch. What were they doing? Then I heard Steele speak.
“Alright,” he growled after clearing his throat. “By what we've been able to pick up, we should be at our destination in a day or two, a week at most.”
There was a general murmur of approval at this. “And then wes get ouwa paws on Flint's gold?” asked Nikki.
There was a grin in Steele's voice. “Exactly.”
“I say,” grumbled Scroup's voice not three feet from the barrel, “We 'urry up an sends the rest to join that lout Togo.”
Steele turned toward him, glowering. “Scroup, that trick with the first mate was not in the plan.”
Trick? I wondered. What trick was he talking about?
Scroup growled in response. “He 'ad it coming to 'im. Sides, we'll be doin' it to all of 'em.”
That's when it hit me. Togo hadn’t been lost as everyone supposed. Scroup killed him!
“Only when I say,” Steele shot back. “You move ahead of the plan again, and I'll send you to join him.”
“Throwing him overboard was the riskiest, the most careless, the stupidest…” Kaltag started to ramble.
“It wasn’t smart!” interjected Star, followed by a thunk.
“What about that pup?” growled the wolverine.
I could imagine Steele turning his cold gaze on him. “What about him?” he asked.
There was murder in the wolverine's voice as he rumbled, “Something tells me you 'ave a soft spot for 'im.”
I heard a punch, followed by the jolt a heavy body crashing into the barrel. I bounced and had to stifle a yelp when I came back down right on my tail.
“Belay that!” snapped Steele. “I’m not about to go soft on some wolf-pup. They’re nothing but scum, all of ‘em. Wolves are trash, and wolf-dogs are gutter trash! I play nice with the whelp to keep him out of our business and hopefully get him to tell us where the map is on this miserable ship.” There was a long pause, during which I imagine he glared around the room. “Anyone else want to say I’ve gone soft?” Nobody answered. “Good,” spat Steele. “Now remember, nobody, and I mean nobody, makes a move until I say so. We can use these lubbers to run the ship and make things a little easier loading it up with Flint’s loot. Then once the treasure’s loaded, ideally when we’ve gotten about halfway home, we strike. The squire, captain, sawbones, and especially the wolf-dog. I don’t want any of them showing up like the devil at prayers when we’re done.”
“What about the others?” asked Nikki.
“Yeah,” Kaltag agreed, “The polar bears. And there’s still a couple dogs who are loyal, straight-up, living by the…”
“Good gu-” Star started to interrupt again before the coconut-like sound of his head being hit, followed by a falling body, ended his sentence.
Steele chuckled. “Keep up the work recruiting,” he replied. “And if anyone won’t join us, they can join the sharks. I’ll take care of that James lad myself. You can see at a glance he’s got no stomach to be a gentleman of fortune.” Just then he began to cough. “Scroup, grab me an apple from that barrel to wet my pipe.”
I started to panic. If they found me in there I was sure I would meet the same fate as Togo, or worse. I could hear Scroup lumbering to his feet right beside the…
“Land ho!” came a voice from up on deck. “Laaaannndd hoooo!”
“Ah,” cried Steele with vicious delight, “Forget the apple, Scroup. Let’s go up and have a look!”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I heard them tramping up the steps to the deck above. It was some moments before I dared to raise my head. When I did, the kitchen was empty.
I’ve got to warn the others, I thought.
“Pirates?!” exclaimed Orde. “On my ship? Mark my words, they’ll all hang!”
“Ha!” retorted the doctor. “Ve are a mere handful and they are nearly whole crew! Ve’re doomed, doomed…” he moaned, helped little by the two polar bears whimpering in the corner of the cabin.
“I’m afraid he’s right,” the squire concurred. “We can’t hope to defeat that many.”
“Oh yes we can!” snapped the captain. “We just need to plan. Now, let me think.” He sat down on the bed and propped his chin on his hand for a moment. “Balto, how much did you hear?”
I thought back. “Well, they haven’t won over the whole crew yet. There are one or two Steele must have picked off the street to fill in for members who were dead, or whom I might recognize. He’s hoping to discreetly persuade them to join, and dispose of anyone who won’t.”
Orde nodded. “So, Steele is the ringleader. I might have known, he was the one who helped our good squire select the crew.”
Squire Trelawney shifted uneasily. “Anything else?” he prompted me, obviously anxious to change the subject.
I thought for a moment. “He said he wanted to wait until we were headed home.”
Boris looked hopeful. “Then ve have time?”
“If the crew doesn’t turn on him,” I replied. “They want to get rid of us now.”
Orde nodded. “Division among them. That might be trouble, or it might be a chance to save our skins if we use it right.”
“What should we do?” asked Muk.
“For now,” answered the captain, “We’ll have to keep our eyes and ears open and our mouths shut. Our only advantages are control of the weapons, which they know about, and the fact that they don’t know we know about them.”
“Perhaps we should arm ourselves,” offered the squire.
“And anyone else still loyal,” I volunteered.
“Yes, but we’d better be quiet about it. Balto, how many are still on our side?”
“James,” I answered right away. “He’ll side with us, that’s for sure.”
“You’re sure of this?” asked Boris. “James, he seems a little strange to me.”
“Trust me,” I replied. “James is my friend.”
“You thought the same about Steele,” answered the squire.
I shook my head earnestly. “Not the same,” I insisted. “He wasn’t with the pirates, and they definitely talked about dealing with him. Steele said he wouldn't have the stomach, and he's right about that.”
“Right,” agreed Orde, reaching into the weapons cache and pulling out several pistols and a handful of ammunition. Loading two and tossing them to me, he instructed, “Balto, arm yourself and James, since he seems to trust you most on this ship. Who else did they mention?”
I had to inform him regretfully that I had no idea. The captain frowned. “In that case we'd best be on guard,” he decided. Personally, I'd already figured out that much.
Nimbly I climbed up to the crow’s nest, rapping out a signal of knocks we had arranged.
She turned around, looking surprised and a little pleased to see me. “Balto,” she asked, “What are you doing up here?”
“Captain’s orders again,” I replied grimly. “And this time we’re not trading watches.” I reached under my shirt and pulled out one of the pistols. She gasped, her one visible eye wide with surprise.
“We’ve got trouble with the crew,” I explained, making sure she knew how to load and fire as I quickly filled her in on the situation. She was a bit clumsy with the thing, and I could tell she’d never held a gun before and didn’t want to start now.
“Looks pretty bad,” she muttered.
I tried to reassure her. “Don’t worry, we’ll be OK. The Captain will figure out what to do.” Impulsively I laid a paw over the one in which she held the gun. “And no matter what happens, we’re in this together like crew mates. Right?”
Her voice quivered slightly as she answered, “Right.”
It wasn't long before the crew became anxious to get on shore. Were it not for the tension of the situation, I would have felt the same. Captain Orde agreed to allow most of them shore leave, only keeping a few behind to mind the ship. Steele quickly took over arranging the boarding parties, and I noticed with some dismay that he left a handful of pirates behind while bringing some of the crew still undecided ashore. I had been entertaining the thought of sending all the pirates ashore and then leaving them stranded so we could come back with reinforcements. From the disappointed look on Captain Orde's face, I suspected he felt the same way.
It occurred to me that someone should keep an eye on the pirates. So when no one was looking, I slipped into one of the boats and hid under the back seat board, concealing myself with a sheet of canvas in hopes that they would get in it without noticing me. My hopes were not in vain. Soon a half-dozen sailors climbed in and the boat was lowered into the water. I raised my head to see who was there, and I heard a shout from the boat behind us. “Balto! Is that you?”
My blood ran cold. Steele had spotted me! I wasted no time. The moment the boat touched shore, I jumped up and was away like a shot into the jungle. I fought my way into the undergrowth until I could hear no more voices, then waited for my heart to stop pounding before I started to explore. I saw birds, snakes, and other animals, none very large, wandering around. I ran into a wild goat, which ran off. Then I heard voices close by. Peering through the greenery, I saw Steele talking to another sailor, a badger. I soon realized that this was one of those not with the pirates, and he would have no part of their scheme.
“Mutiny I'll have nothing to do with,” he was saying. “I'm an honest beast, God knows it, and I curse the day I joined this crew.”
Steele seemed to be making every effort at persuasion. “Come on, don't ye see I'm only trying to save yer hide? It's because I think gold dust of you that I'm warning you. There's no changing the course now, riding it out's the only chance.”
Just then a cry of anger sounded somewhere off to my right, followed by a terrible scream. “What was that?” asked the sailor.
Steele leered. “That was your friend Joseph, another who wouldn't go along with my plan.”
“Joseph!” cried the badger. “Well, God rest his soul. And as for you, Long John, I'll have no part with you or your crew. If I die, God help me I'll die doing the right thing. Kill me too if you dare, but to the devil with you!”
He lunged for Steele, who spun nimbly aside on his one leg and drew a knife in the same motion, slashing the badger a gash across his arm and drawing a bellow of pain with the blood. The two faced off again, and a moment later heard approaching footsteps. Eyes widening, the badger realized he would soon be overrun and made a break for the beach. Before he got ten yards, Steele had grabbed a branch overhead and whipped his crutch through the air and into the sailor's back. I couldn't see the impact from where I lay, but from the sound of the blow and the groan that followed I think he must have broken the poor fellow's back. Whatever the extent of the injury, Steele was on him in a flash and I could hear him grunting as he and his knife did their terrible work. Surrendering part of my breakfast, I turned and ran, knowing that if the pirates caught me I'd soon be as dead as that brave sailor. Behind me, like the ominous cry of a banshee, screeched the voice of his parrot. “Dead dogs don't bite! Dead dogs don't bite!”
I plunged headlong through bushed and ferns, around pine trees and over or under fallen logs, until I had no idea where I was. Suddenly the world turned a complete flip-flop. A pressure on my ankle, a yank and a rush, and the next thing I knew I was about twenty feet off the ground dangling from a branch. “Hey!” I yelled without thinking. Then I slapped myself in the forehead. Wonderful, I thought. Now the pirates are sure to know where I am.
I considered my options. Could I cut through the rope? I reached for my knife and discovered it wasn’t there. I looked down and saw it lying on the ground. Must have fallen out of my belt when the snare got me.
I considered trying to shoot through the rope, but I was still swaying too much to have a chance at a decent shot. And even if I did manage to hit it with all my blood rushing to my head, I wasn’t very interested in a headfirst landing from twenty feet in the air. Especially if the bullet paid a visit to my foot on the way. Wonderful, I thought. Death by pirates, or an upside-down hanging. Just wonderful.
After what felt like three hours (although it could have been three minutes in that isolated place), I heard a rustling sound behind me. I jerked around in an effort to get a better view and saw someone coming toward me through the foliage. Pirate, I thought, pulling the pistol out of my pocket and cocking it. I pointed it in the direction of the figure and fired as soon as he stuck his head out. The shot missed, exploding a tree branch a few inches from his head.
“You come any closer and I’ll fire again!” I shouted, trying to sound braver than I felt. Even with the confidence boost from managing to get off that good of a shot from my position, I still felt pretty shaky.
The figure raised his hands and called out in a deep, slightly rough voice, “Mercy! Mercy! 'ave pity, please! I thought you was a goat.”
“A goat?” I raised… no, lowered… ahh, you know what I mean. I shifted an eyebrow. Was this some kind of trick? “Come out slowly with your hands in the air.”
The figure stepped out and I instantly realized my mistake. This wasn’t one of the pirates at all. The dog that emerged from the undergrowth had wildly overgrown hair and a beard that could have filled in for his tattered clothes all by itself. He had a wild look in his eyes, and he was staring at me like he’d never seen another dog before. His fur was brownish-gray, and his nails reminded me of an eagle’s claws. “’Ave pity, friend,” he pleaded. “I was only tryin’ t’ catch a goat for supper.”
Friend? I thought. If I were looking for a friend, this guy wouldn't have been my first choice. But the throbbing in my head made me decide to worry about that later. “Would you mind getting me down?” I asked.
He nodded. “Sure’n I’ll get you down, matey.” He ran to the trunk and started to climb up.
“Wait!” I called. “How are you going to get me down without dropping me?”
He paused. Apparently he hadn’t thought of that. “I’ll pull you up,” he decided at last.
I was amazed at the ease with which he climbed the trunk, moving with all the speed and dexterity of a monkey. In no time at all he had me up on a branch and my feet free. “Sorry again, lad,” he said as if he were thrilled just to speak to someone. “I hadn’t a notion you’d be stumbling into my trap.”
I nodded. “No problem,” I replied, trying to stay on the branch while my body reassured itself that I was right-side up. “Who are you, anyway?”
The stranger put a hand on my shoulder to steady me. “Name’s Ben. Poor old Ben.” He never took his eyes off me for even a second. “And you are?”
“Balto,” I answered. “Balto Hawkins.”
“A fine name!” he laughed heartily. “And the only one as I’ve heard in many a year since I was marooned here.”
“Uh, yeah,” I agreed, trying to sound jovial. Marooning was a serious punishment used by sailors, where they left the offender stranded on an island. Some managed to survive long enough to be rescues, but most were never heard from again. And those who did survive were often just a little crazy, as was obviously the case with this Ben. “How long have you been here?”
He scratched his beard, as if he couldn’t remember. “Been about ten long years since I was left ashore, it has.”
“Ten years?” I asked in surprise. “How did you survive?”
“I managed to live offa berries and goats, but cheese is what I’m after. Many’s the night I’ve dreamed of cheese. Tried makin’ some from goat’s milk, but it went terrible sour. The sailors didn’t leave none, and the pirates’ cache-” he gagged a trifle. “Eh, the merchants’ cache…”
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “You were a pirate?”
He sighed. “More of a slave,” he admitted. “Served Flint himself, I did. Not too proud of it, but I had folks back home to think of, y’know.”
I shrugged, edging away from him as much as the branch allowed. “Didn’t work out too well, did it?” I asked.
“Ooh, I wouldn’ know,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m a rich man, I am.”
“Uh, sure,” I pretended to agree. “Richest man alive, I’ll bet.” Berries, I thought. I’ll bet that’s what did it to him.
“Ho ho, if you only knew,” he laughed. “Make Solomon look like a pauper, I do. But tell me, lad, be the ship ye from a pirate ship?”
It took me a minute to untangle his sentence. “No, but there’s pirates on board. Some of Flint’s crew.”
His face turned so pale it showed even under his fur. “Be there a sailor with one leg?”
I nodded. “Steele,” I replied.
Ben shook like a leaf and grabbed me by the shoulders. “You isn’t one o’ them, is ye?” he begged. “If you was sent by him I’m dead and I knows it.”
I shook my head. “No, never. I’m on the other side.” I listed the good sailors, emphasizing Doctor Boris, the captain, and the squire.
“You’re a good lad, Balto!” he laughed, clapping me on the back so hard I almost fell off the branch. “You’re a friend to old Ben, shore enough, and Ben’ll be a friend to ye, he will! And will your squire give me passage home to dear old England if I does?”
“Of course,” I agreed. “Once we’ve beaten the pirates we’ll need every hand we can get.”
“Once!” he exclaimed, beaming. “Once, not if. I likes that mind. And might I have a fair share of the treasure, say seventeen hundred pounds sterling, not more or less?”
I nodded. If the treasure was as vast as we imagined, that would be very reasonable. “I think we can manage that,” I agreed. Seventeen hundred pounds sterling, I thought, puzzled. Why that particular amount?
He grabbed my paw and pumped it like a man dying of thirst going at a water pump. “Then I be glad to help ye!”
Just then a thundering crash shook the jungle and I jumped as if a snake had bitten my tail, and would have fallen to my death if Ben hadn't seized me by the wrist and hauled me back up. “The cannon!” I cried.
“Aye, been a spell since I heard one o’ them,” Ben groaned uneasily. What fur he had that wasn’t matted down now stood up like a porcupine. “But who’s shootin’, and who’s they shootin’ at?”
Before I could say anything, he had slid down to the end of the rope, dropped to the ground, and was beckoning to me. More than a little uneasy, I climbed to the end of the rope, said a quick prayer, and let go. He caught me as easily as a dropped pillow, grabbed me by the paw, then hauled me through the jungle with the strength of a horse and the easy manner of a wild ape. We made our way to the beach and peered through the foliage. As the cannon fired again, Ben pulled a small telescope (in surprisingly good condition) from his clothes and peered trough it. “That be Nikki!” he cried. “Flint’s old gunner!”
My heart sank. “Is there anyone else?” I asked.
“Aye, another at the gun and one dog dead,” he replied gravely.
“Where are they shooting?” I asked.
He squinted. “I’d say they’s shooting for the old stockade the pirates built,” he replied. He shimmed up a tree and aimed the telescope in another direction. “A Union Jack!” he cried. “Been some time since I saw that!”
“The honest crew?” I asked. “What are they doing ashore?”
“I dursn’t know,” he replied. “But those pirates’ll never hit the stockade from that far away. Balto, you go tell the squire Ben’s an honest dog, and if ye help him he’ll help ye. If'n he wants to talk, they can look for me at a clearing 'bout half a mile west o' the fort with a boulder that looks like a whale where I keep me boat. Be sure 'n bring somethin' white as a token of peace.” And with that he took off through the growth.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To see what the pirates are up to!” he answered without a backward glance.
“But where…?” I asked, but he was gone. So, with no idea what else to do, I headed off through the jungle in the direction he’d been looking when he saw the stockade. As I walked I happened to spot something on the ground. Bending over to examine it, I discovered it was a ring! Must be part of the treasure, I thought. It was simple, but beautiful, shaped from smooth gold with a large diamond set in it. I would have liked nothing better than to search for the rest then and there, but I had to get to the others. I stuck it in my pocket, thinking it would be nice to show them. As it turned out, however, things would soon be too wild for showing off a trinket like that.
I got lost searching for the stockade, and the moon was above the treetops by the time I came out in a clearing surrounding it. The fort stood on a little hill in the middle of a clearing which I would later learn was some hundred feet across, and the fort itself was a wall of upright logs in a circle at the top, about thirty feet across and ten feet high, sharpened at the top to deter enemies from trying to get over. Casting my eyes in every direction for pirates, I crept up and tried to climb the wall. I was just wondering how to get over the tops of the sharpened tree trunks without stabbing myself when a metal tube thrust its way through a gap and pressed against my forehead. “Who goes there?” came a voice.
I gasped. “James?”
Jenna hesitated. “Who is that?”
“Jenna, it’s me.”
“Balto?” she asked, dropping her falsetto and her weapon in surprise. “Where have you been?”
“Everywhere,” I replied. “Can you let me in?”
“Sure, the gate’s about five yards to your left.”
I ran to the gate and waited until she opened it, slipping inside and pulling it shut as soon as the gap was wide enough. “Thanks.”
“Where have you been?” she demanded, taking me by the arm. “Everyone’s been so worried about you!”
“I slipped into a boat and followed the pirates ashore,” I admitted. “But what are you doing here?”
“Never mind,” she replied. “You'd better get inside. Everyone thinks you're dead.”
I nodded. “How long have you been out here?” I asked.
“Quite awhile,” she replied. With a yawn, she added, “I think it’s about time for the end of my watch.” So she came along with me.
We crept up to a crude cabin in the middle of the stockade. “Has there been any trouble from the pirates?” I asked.
She nodded. “When the captain realized you had gone ashore with them, he and Hunter, the one who told him you had gone, decided to go ashore and see that you were alright. When they made it to shore, they heard screams and knew the pirates were killing off those who wouldn't agree to side with them. Captain decided they must have caught and killed you too. They returned to the ship, where they and the rest of us held the pirates at gunpoint. Hunter, Gray, and Joyce agreed to help us and were ordered to stock the lifeboat with supplies, and then they locked the pirates in the foredeck and made for shore with as many weapons and other equipment as they could carry.”
“They planned to fight it out with the pirates?” I asked.
She nodded. “I was so afraid, especially when, looking back, we discovered the pirates had broken out and were getting ready to fire the cannon at us. The squire managed to pick one of them off, but they still damaged our boat badly enough that it sank by the time we reached shore. All we could salvage were an armload of the guns. So, we took shelter here in the stockade.” She paused to take a lantern that was hanging outside the door. Then we went in.
The place looked in good condition despite being out of use for so long. Jenna took two steps and stopped with a gasp. I looked too and saw a snake curled up next to the motionless figure of Boris.
I bent forward, causing the snake to raise its head and hiss. The hiss was accompanied by the sound of a rattle. I stepped out of striking range and glanced around before picking up a ramrod sitting next to the door.
“What are you doing?” asked Jenna, paralyzed in terror.
I took her hand and drew her back to where I stood, then waited until the snake had settled down again. Warily, I brought the rod over the snake, pausing every time it moved or hissed. Then with a lunge, I pinned its head to the ground. I grabbed it just behind the head and threw it out the door.
Jenna breathed a sigh of relief. “I didn’t know you could do that,” she whispered.
I wiped the sweat from my brow. “Neither did I,” I admitted. I had heard about those kind of snakes from a sailor once, who told me that sometimes on islands they would curl up next to a sleeping person and then bite him when he woke up.
Boris suddenly became aware of our presence and sat up. “Who are you?” he asked.
“It’s us,” I replied, relieved to see he was unharmed.
I decided not to mention the snake. I wouldn’t have had the chance, for Boris hollered at the top of his lungs, “Balto’s back!”
That woke everybody up in a hurry. Muk and Luk tumbled out of their hammocks to greet me with the usual hugging-and-licking routine polar bears always seem to do. Captain Orde and the Squire sat up in their hammocks and swung their feet to the ground. “Mr. Hawkins!” exclaimed the captain. “Where have you been? We thought the pirates got you.”
“Never mind me,” I was all set to exclaim before I remembered my manners. I stopped myself and answered, “I slipped ashore hidden on one of the boats to spy on the pirates, then ran away from them hoping to hide. I got caught in a snare set by a dog named Ben, who says he’s been marooned on this island for years.”
Squire Trelawney was immediately all business. “Is this Ben friend or foe?” he asked.
“Friend,” I answered without hesitation. “He knows Flint’s crew and is scared to death of them, but he’s promised to help us if we help him.”
The Captain put a paw to his chin. “What sort of help does he ask of us?” he inquired.
“Transportation back to England and a share of the treasure,” I answered.
“How much?” the squire wanted to know.
I searched my brain for a moment. “Seventeen hundred pounds sterling,” I replied.
Squire Trelawney seemed a bit uneasy about giving that much to a stranger, but Doctor Boris cut in, “That sounds qvite fair to me.”
“Done,” agreed Captain Orde, slapping a fist into his open palm. “If he’ll help us beat these bloody pirates and make it off this island with the treasure and our lives, he can jolly well have a share of the bounty. Did he say how to let him know we agree to his terms?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Perfect,” Jenna put in. “So our best chance against these pirates is a dog we can’t find.”
“He seemed to know his way around,” I replied in Ben’s defense. “I guess he’ll just find a way to tell us when he’s ready.”
Luk mumbled something, which Muk translated, “Luk wants to know what we should do until then.”
“Sit tight,” Squire Trelawney offered. “Pray for a miracle. That’s all we can do.”
The captain nodded. “Sage advice, my friend. Sage advice.”
The next morning, the pirates attacked. Running out of the woods literally armed to the teeth, they swarmed the fort from the east side in an attempt to overwhelm us. At the same time, gunfire opened from the woods and a rifle shot sang through the doorway, splintering wood from the back wall. Fortunately, the captain had anticipated such a move and had all the guns ready and loaded inside.
The pirates swarmed over the wall like monkeys, nimbly avoiding the spiked top or cutting the sharp tips off with their cutlasses, and forced in the cabin door we had just shut and bolted. It was such an intense fight I can't remember much of what happened, but Muk, Luk, and the doctor scrambled for cover as the rest of us opened fire or grabbed up swords. One of the pirates appeared in the doorway only to be run through by the Squire. I snatched up a saber and began exchanging thrusts and parries with a weasel who was missing several teeth and whose breath stank of rum. He knocked my sword aside and was all set to run me through when a rifle butt slammed into his temple and brought him down. I looked in the direction of the attack and saw Jenna looking grim even through her disguise. "Thanks," I managed to say.
With the squire holding the door, the rest of us finished those who had gotten through and crouched behind him with rifles, picking off any pirates we could spot. I advised Jenna to stand guard where the doctor and the two bears were hiding, and she didn't seem at all reluctant to do so.
After a brief but intense skirmish, the pirates had retreated or been rendered immobile, either wounded or dead. We made for the fence and peered through gaps, waiting for their next move while Jenna, Boris, Muk and Luk ventured to the doorway of the cabin to watch. After a moment, Captain Orde spied something in the woods. “A white cloth,” he observed in labored words, and I noticed when I looked at him that his left shoulder was a ragged mess, apparently torn apart by a gunshot. He was grimacing in pain, but managing to keep his composure. “Brutes. First they attack us and now they want to talk terms.”
“Ahoy, Orde!” Steele called. “Request permission to parlay!”
“Boil you head!” snapped Orde. “Come if you want, but we're keeping our arms at the ready.”
Steele hobbled up to within ten yards of the palisade while a dog behind him held up a white rag tied to the end of a musket – a mixed signal if I ever saw one. “There’s not a one on my crew that doesn’t want your heads,” growled Steele. “Wasn’t too sporting, sneaking into our camp and spiking three of us in our sleep.”
Looks were exchanged. “Ben!” we all whispered, suddenly very glad the old dog was on our side.
“Not too sporting you lot attacking us before breakfast either,” the captain shot back.
“Tit for tat,” Steele said dismissively, as if it had been a fair exchange. “But I’m willing to make a fair trade. You give us that map, and on my word as a gentleman of fortune I’ll split the supplies with you man-for-man, and tell the first ship we pass where you’re at. Or if ye want, I'll take you all aboard and let you off at the first port. You can’t get a better deal than that.”
“The word of a pirate is less than the word of a snake!” Captain Orde shot back. “But you hear me now, Steele. You surrender, you and your rabble, and we’ll put in a good word with the judge for you lot when we get back to England.”
This drew a mix of derisive laughter and outraged yells from the pirate crew. “Ha!” mocked Steele. “You’ll clap us in irons the day the sun sets this island ablaze! Mark my words, dog, you give up now or the next you’ll hear from me is cannon fire!”
Orde raised a paw. “Give me a moment to parlay with my crew,” he called. “But we’ll be watching, and if any of you comes an inch forward, he’ll come back with a round in him!” And he withdrew from the fence.
“Vhat are ve going to do?” asked Doctor Boris.
“Well we can’t give them the map,” said the captain. “If we do, they’ll just take the treasure and kill us or leave us stranded here. I hate to say it, but we're in a bit of a spot here.”
Jenna’s face was grim. “I know another solution,” she answered. All our eyes turned to her as she slowly unwound her bandanna and revealed her entire face. “Me.”
P.S. The character known as Hunter is not a reference to Road Rovers, in case anyone wondered. It's an actual name taken from the original book.