Brian Jacques - Redwall #05 - The Legend of Luke

Beau began picking up the planking. "Isay there, Bolwag, d'you mind not chuckin' our raft around like that? Took us long enough t'put it together, wot. Of course we'll be sailin' blind, haven't a bally clue where old Vilu wotsischops has sailed off to."

Bolwag nodded his great head wisely. "I know which way the red ship's bound. Always goes the same course when it leaves 'ere. North'n'west two points to Wood Isle. Takes on water'n'provisions there."

Vurg peered upchannel to the open sea. "Wood Isle? Have you been there, Bolwag? Will you show us the way to this place?"

Bolwag frowned, then his whiskers split into a huge grin. "Suppose I'll 'ave to, matey. Couldn't let a pair o' liddle sardines like you two go twiddlin' 'round alone out there. Beau's ole auntie might never clap eyes on 'im agin, and we can't 'ave that now, can we? But first let's git yore raft built proper'n'seaworthy. You lay out a good crisscross of timbers on a big piece o' canvas. I'll go an' fetch some bladderwrackgrows big in these warm waters. Git t'work, an' I'll be back afore you knows it, mates!"

Neither Beau nor Vurg had the least idea what bladderwrack was. They stretched the biggest canvas sail on the sand and began laying a grid shape of ship's timbers on it. Bolwag returned, though at first it was hard to tell whether it was he, because a huge clump of seaweed surrounded the sea lion's body as he swam, towing it with him. With a powerful heave he flung it ashore.

"Bladderwrack, buckoes. Nothin' like it fer keepin' afloat!"

It was slimy, slippery seaweed, but studded with big inflated air bubbles.

Bolwag winked at them. "Cover those timbers with it, an' lay on more timber atop o' the bladderwrack. I'll go an' get some more."

The process was repeated three more times, after which they cloaked the lot with the sailcloth ends. Under Bolwag's directions, Vurg and Beau laced the canvas casing tight with rope until the sea lion was satisfied with the job. It looked an ungainly bundle.

Vurg bounced up and down on it. "Haha, 'tis springy enough. Will we need a sail, Bolwag?"

"Nah, I'll be either pushin' or pullin' all the way. Well, it don't look like much, me 'earties, but 'tis tight'n'strong an' 'twill get you to Wood Isle without sinkin'."

Afternoon was well advanced when they loaded the last provisions aboard and launched the odd-looking raft into the channel. Bolwag grabbed a trailing line in his mouth and went off like a fish. At first Beau and Vurg clung to one another on the skimming, bobbing raft as it bounced and cavorted across the wavetops. However, after a while they became used to the momentum and sat sharing some bread and cheese. Heading north and west, they sped onward, creating a small bow wave of spray, though it was hard to tell exactly where the raft's bows were located, as it swiveled from side to side. Bolwag kept the sunset in the corner of his left eye as he pulled them effortlessly along.

Beau waxed lyrical at approaching evening. "Does somethin' to a chap, the old sunset, rather jolly, wot. Sky goes the color of meadowcream when y'stir it into a plate of damson pudden, sea's as dark as blackcurrant cordial, an' the sun looks like a rosy apple covered with honey. I say, Vurg old lad, rather poetic, wot wot?"

Vurg hid a smile. "Did you compose that with your stomach?"

Beau grinned. "Yes, it did sound rather gutsy, didn't it! Oh I say, nothin' to ruin a perfect evenin' like a great pack o' sharks. Just look at that lot!"

Vurg saw the ominous fins cutting through the water until they surrounded the raft. Suddenly the whole craft swayed threateningly as Bolwag flopped aboard. Beau threw himself on top of the sea lion, grabbing at his slippery hide with all paws and roaring heroically.

"I've got you, old fellow. They'll have t'deal with me before I'll let 'em get to you. Ahoy an' belay, you slab-sided swabs. Scuttle me bilges an' other nautical terms, show me a shark an' I'll show you a coward! Take one bite out of our raft, just one munch, I dare you! I'll leap into the briny an' give you a sound drubbin'! Hah, y'dealin' with a Cosfortingham now, wot wot!"

Bolwag shrugged his huge bulk, sending Beau toppling into the sea. «The hare yelled out in panic.

"Didn't mean it, only jokin' you chaps, there, there, nice sharky, good sharky. Yowoops!"

One of the big fishes flicked his tail, catching Beau and sending him sailing back onto the raft.

Bolwag chuckled. "Yukyukyukyuk! Don't yer know a bottlenose when y'sees one?"

Beau clung to Bolwag's flipper, shivering. "Keep mum, old chap. Don't go callin' 'em names like bottlenose you'll get 'em mad an' they'll scoff the raft. Nice sharks, good sharks. I say, aren't sharks handsome chaps?"

Bolwag's stomach shook as he laughed. "Yukyukyukyuk! Those aren't sharks, ye great booby. They're pals o' mine, bottlenosed dolphins. They offered t'push awhile an' let me 'ave a rest!"

Vurg smiled at his irrepressible friend. Beau regained his composure quickly in any situation.

"Pish tush, sah, I knew that all along, what d'ye take me for, wot? Sharks indeed. What gave y'that idea?" He leaned over the raft's edge and patted the strange beak-shaped snout of the nearest dolphin, which stuck its permanently smiling face out of the sea as Beau nodded to it. "Ahoy there, you jolly bottlenosed rogue, what d'you mean by impersonatin' a flippin' shark? Wipe that smile off your face an' answer me, laddie!"

The big fish gave an earsplittin' squeak and shot a jet of water into Beau's astonished face. He sat back wiping water from his eyes, remarking to Vurg, "Pity that chap never had an auntie to teach him a few manners, wot. Spittin' seawater into a feller's fizzog, huh, very nice, I don't think!"

Bolwag flapped Beau's ears gently with his huge flipper. "Don't you go talkin' about my pals like that, matey. Kweekum an' his school 'ave been friends o' mine since I was a pup!"

While Bolwag held an unintelligible conversation, which consisted of exchanging varying degrees of squeaks with Kweekum, Beau whispered to Vurg, "Tchah! School indeed. Only school that chap ever attended was the school of spittin'. I'd give him detention or a few whacks of the cane if I was his schoolmaster, wot! Blighter can't even speak without squeakin' like a confounded seagull. I'll bet all the baby bottlenoses are a right shower of yahoos. Still, y'can't expect any better if you're brought up with a name like bottlenose, I suppose, wot wot?"

Over a score of dolphins were around the raft, propelling it along at an alarming rate. Every so often, an extra frisky one would jump out of the sea and leap clear over the raft. Vurg sat awake, excited and astounded by it all. Beau tried to sleep, stuffing a piece of bladderwrack in both ears, muttering to himself, "Fat chance of shuteye a chap's got 'round here. Great lump of a Bolwag, snorin' away like a thousand frogs on concert night, an' those pesky bottlenoses squeakin' like a pile o' rusty gates. Not the sort o' thing a Cosfortingham's used to at all. Indeed not. Good job auntie's not here!"

However, despite the intrusions, Beauclair Fethringsol Cosfortingham was soon adding to the din, snoring uproariously and chunnering on in his dreams through the night watches as the strange craft hurtled toward its destination over the sprawling main.

"Hmm, mm, wot? Pass the salad there, auntie, an' tell the cap'n to stop the boat rockin', will you? Mmm, mm. No thanks, old chap, couldn't touch another bowl of that bladderwrack pudden, foul stuff. Give it to old bottlenose for school lunch, will you? Sharks like that sort o' thing. Mmm mm, wot!"

Chapter 31

Bullflay cracked his whip over the heads of the wretched rowers chained to the decks of the Death Pit.

"Back water an' ship oars, you idle bunch o' land-spawn! Sit still there, not a word or a move, or I'll 'ave the hide off yore backs 'til yer bones shows through!"