Brian Jacques - Redwall #16 - Triss

well be it! I’ll fish for me food, that’s what I’ll jolly well do. Oh yes, us old sailin’ beasts can get along spiffingly on the bounty provided by the briny. Fish, that’s the ticket, whoppin’ great fat tasty fish, wot!

Tying an oversized hook onto the rope, Scarum searched about and came up with two apple cores, which he stuck on the hook. Whirling the lot around his head, he cast it out into the sea. Right ho, come on, little fishies. No, on second thoughts, come on, big fishies, you little chaps stay put. Well, come on, you big chaps, take the blinkin’ bait. I can’t sit around here starvin’, y’know, so get a flippin’ move on!

Wakened by the disturbance, Kroova came out on deck. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he took over the tiller from Sagax. Wot’s ole Scarum up to now, matey?

Oh, him, he’s got to catch a fish before he dies of starvation.

Haharr, him die of starvation, that’s a good’un. He ate more brekkist than both of us, an’ he’s scoffed two more meals since thenÑ

Three, Sagax corrected the sea otter.

Scarum cast a jaundiced eye over their smiling faces. Go on, laugh, you curmudgeons, but when I catch a whoppin’ great fish, you ain’t gettin’ any. Not a confounded morsel, so there!

Kroova’s keen eye caught a large dorsal fin homing in on the line. He leaped up, yelling, Pull that line in, quick! Heave it in, matey!

Scarum defiantly tied the line to the bowsprit. Shan’t! No point in gettin’ jealous an’ shoutin’ at me.

He fell over backward as the line was snapped taut and the ketch took off like an arrow, with Kroova roaring, Shark! We’ve been caught by a shark!

Whipping out a small knife, Sagax dashed to the bow. He raised it to chop at the rope, but Scarum struck his paw aside. The knife dropped into the sea and sank.

Kroova came running. He grabbed the hare by his tunic front. Ye blitherin’ fool, didn’t you’ear wot I said? That’s a shark towin’ us, a full-growed shark, too, by the rate we’re goin’.

Sagax dashed water from his eyes as the ketch set up a bow wave. Aye, and the only weapon we’ve got aboard you just knocked out of my paw!

Scarum fought free of the sea otter’s grip and sat down amidships. Good old mister shark, wot, givin’ us a fine ride, ain’t he? I vote we let him tow us along for a league or two, wot. When he gets tired and packs in pullin’ us, we’ll heave Mm aboard an’ cook him up into a good big scoff. Super idea, wot?

Bumping up and down, the ketch skimmed over the waves. Tt was difficult to stand. Kroova crouched close to the triumphantly grinning hare and berated him.

Belay, ye flop-eared, pot-bellied, wire-whiskered buffoon! Yore trouble is that y’don’t realise we’ve caught a big savage beast’ere, or rather it’s got us. We’re ridin’ the whirlwind an’ yore sittin’ there smilin’. You can’t see the danger we’re in! Ye don’t even know wot a shark looks like!

Scarum twanged the taut line with a carefree paw. Oh, don’t get your rudder in an uproar, old chap. I expect the jolly old shark’s enjoyin’

this as much as I am, wot? Huh, you two are just jealous I was the one who jolly well caught the fish. Anyhow, I bet we get to where we’re goin’ a blinkin’ sight faster’n we would twiddlin’ the tiller an’

tweakin’ those sail ropes. Our friend the shark’ll get worn out, you’ll see. Then all we do is pop the blighter aboard for dinner!

Sagax clung to the stern seat, blinking spray from his eyes. Though he hated to admit it, he was actually enjoying the sensation of speed, never having travelled at such a rate in all his life. The young badger tried to calm his otter friend.

Maybe Scarum’s right. No real need to panic, is there?

Kroova’s head banged the for’ard mastpole as they shot sideways onto a choppy wave. Ignoring the pain, he yelled furiously, I’m surprised at you, mate! That shark could turn any moment an’ smash this vessel to splinters, or it could suddenly dive an’ pull us all down with it.

Hah, wait’ll it gets tired, then pop it aboard fer dinner? Don’t lis-sen t’that fool. If’n we pulled a live shark aboard without a weapon atween us, we’d be the dinner! It’d eat us alive!

The danger they were in suddenly hit Scarum. His jaw dropped. Oh corks, we’re in a bit of a bloomin’ fix, wot.

S’all your fault, Sagax. Y’should’ve let me have a snack instead of makin’ me fish for it. What do we do now, chaps?

The shark made the decision for them by slacking off for a moment, then going into a dive. The Stopdog’s stern began to lift clear of the water.

Kroova had surmised right. They were beginning to be pulled under.

Eulaliiiaaaaaa!

Scarum made a dive for the rope, which was attached to the great seabeast.

Frantically he bared his teeth and savagely tore at the rope fibres like some sort of mad creature. Sagax and Kroova could only sit flabbergasted at the sight of their friend, suddenly gone wild, roaring as he chomped away.

Grrmph grrmph! Y’flippin’ foul fish! Chompchomp-chomp! You ain’t pullin’ us down t’the blinkin’ bottom! Gratch gratch! Can’t have my ma blubbin’ herself t’death! Grrmph! Chomp! Grumff! Grratch! Go an’

find your own dratted dinner! Grripp!

Curling and twirling, the rope strands began to part. Scarum’s jaws began going fifty to the dozen, his large, white buck teeth moving like a blur as he attacked the fraying fibres. Finally there was a loud twang as the rope snapped. All three were thrown flat. The Stopdog splashed down onto an even keel.

Kroova was first up. He dashed over to Scarum, who was lying facedown on the bow seat, and pounded his back delightedly. Haharr, ye did it, shipmate! Stiffen me rudder, I never seen anythin’ like that afore.

Twas tremendous!

Still with his head hard against seat timbers, face down, the young hare called out in a strange language, Gow! Geggoff! Gon’t goo gakk!

Sagax placed his head flat on the seat, level with his friend. Trying hard not to burst out laughing, he explained Scarum’s predicament to Kroova. You’ll never believe this, but he’s got his front teeth stuck in the wood. Scarum must have been biting so hard that when the rope snapped and our vessel slapped down into the water, he was still open-mouthed. His teeth stuck right into the seat!

The hare wailed, Git’s nog gunny, an’ it gurts!

Sagax patted Scarum gently. I know it’s not funny and it hurts. Keep quite still now,’mate. Let’s see if I can get you loose. Kroova, hold his shoulders.

The sea otter braced Scarum’s shoulders. Sagax went to work with his powerful blunt claws. Loosening odd splinters carefully and pulling away the larger fragments, he freed the hare’s teeth. Scarum sat up and clapped a paw across his numbed mouth.

Hanks’agax ... mummff! My teemff hurth!

He had to repeat the phrase until the badger understood.

Oh right, you said, ÔThanks, Sagax, my teeth hurt/ correct?

Scarum nodded his head gingerly and retired beneath the bow seat, where he lay nursing his sore mouth. Kroova was sympathetic.

Never mind, messmate. Yore gob’ll probly be painin’ ye for a while.

But you’ll soon be shipshape.

The remainder of the day passed uneventfully, with the otter and the badger tip-pawing quietly about, so as not to disturb Scarum at his rest. In the early evening, Kroova put tinder to flint and made a small fire with charcoal in a deep stone bowl. Sagax rummaged through the rations and came up with wheat and barley flour, a jar of preserved damsons in honey and a few other ingredients.

Mixing them together with some water from their little water keg, he asked Kroova, Ever had skilly’n’duff, mate?

His friend’s eyes lit up with anticipation. Ho arr, skilly’n’duff, ain’t nothin’ tastier. A sea otter’s favourite vittles, I’d say!