Robots and Moon Rockets

by Mark Douglas Stafford

CHAPTER 2

  A FAIR FIGHT

  A black dog with sagging skin, deadly eyes and a missing ear—One Ear, as Reginald has named him—struggled through the reeds. He shook himself dry as he made his way up the bank. He didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk, he looked annoyed. Waggles, Red and Blotch Face fanned out directly behind him. These dogs would probably be his lieutenants. As the rest of the pirate pack arrived they took up positions behind the four lead dogs, forming a rough semicircle centred on Reginald. In all, more than thirty dogs faced him.

  Reginald cleared his throat and looked sincerely at One Ear. ‘Welcome ashore, Captain Pratt. Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Reginald Elephant and I speak for the town of Port Isabel generally and the owner of the Serendipity, Harry Possum, specifically. Now before we begin, I require certain assurances, including…’

  Reginald stopped short. One Ear had turned away to face his three lieutenants. They whined and growled at each another indecipherably. Not a word of Latin was used. The rest of the dogs looked dangerous and curious but kept their positions. Some switched attention between him and the four lead dogs, others scratched themselves or lay flat on the soft, damp earth, head between outstretched paws, curious eyes watching.

  Reginald risked drawing attention to the crew of the Happy Trader when he glanced over his shoulder. They were still fussing with the harpoon gun, which was swinging about erratically. His sensitive ears were just able to make out that some kind of argument was in progress.

  Reginald turned back to find One Ear and his three lieutenants staring past him at the Happy Trader. ‘You may have the numbers right now,’ he said to the pirates, ‘but rest assured, help is on the way. Others will soon arrive and you will come to realise it would be best to surrender before someone gets seriously hurt. I’m only telling you this to avoid unnecessary violence, which won’t help either you or us. I am sure that someone as intelligent as you would only choose to fight when there is a fighting chance. As there is none, I am happy to hear the terms of your surrender. And I am prepared to argue for leniency when the time comes for…’

  One Ear looked at Reginald with intelligent, calculating eyes. He gave no indication he had understood a word spoken.

  ‘Do you speak the common tongue? Do you speak Latin?’ Reginald asked. Their inability to understand would be major miscalculation on his apart, or perhaps an opportunity to stretch out negotiations.

  One Ear turned again and whined and growled at the other three.

  Reginald looked him over. He had never seen a dog up close but he had learned from books that they were blood-thirsty and ferocious. He had always assumed that the descriptions were exaggerated. Now he was not at all sure. He had seen drawings showing them as fast pack mammals with sharp teeth designed to kill and eat. He could see now that the drawings were accurate. Their teeth looked razor sharp and they were all muscle and bone.

  ‘Nice day isn’t it? After all the rain it’s good to finally have some nice weather. Not that I mind a bit of rain. In some ways I actually prefer it. I’ve enjoyed stomping in puddles since I was a calf. Back then, I was only a third of my current rather considerably immovable size. One advantage of having big, flat feet is that they’re good for stomping. How about you: do you like the rain?’

  The lead dogs gave no indication they understood. Earlier he had thought they were just using a secret dog language so they could talk in front of him without being understood. But perhaps he was hearing their only language. If this was true then he could forget about diplomacy and negotiation. It would come down to a battle of strength and numbers and timing. The help Stanley would bring would be decisive.

  One Ear turned and looked past him towards the Happy Trader, his one remaining ear swivelling forward, tongue panting over pointy teeth and pink gums.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about them,’ said Reginald, cheerfully. He shifted in his harness so that it creaked. ‘They’re just putting on lunch. They’re probably preparing something just for you lot. Have you ever tried tofu marinated in honey? It has lots of protein, just like meat only much easier to chew and without the moral dilemma. The thing that looks like a harpoon gun is used for roasting the tofu over a fire.’

  One Ear growled and the other three drew up beside him. A few growls and woofs were exchanged then Waggles bounded down the bank and waded through the reeds towards the Serendipity. Red and Blotch Face stepped in front of One Ear and snarled at Reginald, menace written on their faces, fangs bared.

  ‘So this is how it’s going to be, is it? The two of you against the one of me? Come now, two against one is hardly a fair contest. Admittedly I am a little bigger, but still…’

  The crescent of pirate dogs tightened, moving as if they were one deadly creature.

  Through his study of ancient history Reginald knew that battles were won by armies, not soldiers. Soldiers working as one were much more effective than the sum of each working alone. These dogs were working as one; they were an army. Perhaps he had underestimated them.

  As the dogs moved closer they kept one eye on One Ear, as if awaiting instructions.

  What were they waiting for? Were they sizing him up? Were they waiting for him to make the first move? Were they afraid? They didn’t look afraid, they looked curious. It was unlikely that they had faced an elephant before. That could be an advantage. They had also left the Serendipity in great numbers. Perhaps they were all now ashore. That could be an advantage too; it would make retaking the sleek ship easier. Would they all attack at once or a few at a time?

  There was a fallen log in the underbrush beside him that he should be able to pick it up if he could get his truck under. They needed a demonstration of how strong an elephant was. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, but if he could raise it above his head he could show them that he shouldn’t be toyed with.

  Reginald sidled toward to log, keeping taut the rope securing the Happy Trader, and wrapped his trunk around one end. The log came away easily and he dragged it onto the path. The dogs shuffled about uneasily as if surprised at his show of strength. Good!

  One Ear barked and a group of dogs on the far end of the crescent broke off and ran around the log straight past him. Reginald turned and saw that they were heading for the big rock at the mouth of the creek. They were trying to prevent the crew from coming to his aid.

  ‘Come back here, you yellow-bellied cowards!’ yelled Reginald. He hadn’t counted on them running around him. ‘Face me like a…’

  Bang!

  At the noise, Reginald turned sharply towards the Serendipity. A cloud of smoke drifted away from the harpoon cannon operated by Waggles. He thought for second that he’d been shot but he felt no pain. He followed the trailing rope and watched the heavy iron harpoon slam into the Happy Trader’s prow, just below her gaily painted masthead depicting a mermaid and turtle. The harpoon stuck fast and the line was pulled tight.

  Bang!

  This time it was the Happy Trader’s harpoon gun that fired. Reginald watched the harpoon strike deep into the bank under the fallen tree at the creek’s mouth. The crew were pulling tight the trailing rope, which they would use to get ashore.

  One Ear barked again and the line of remaining dogs moved forward, tightening their formation around him. Red and Blotch Face were in front.

   ‘Oh, all at once then? Well I suppose that puts the odds on a more equal basis now—still in my favour, but more fun.’

  He lifted the log from the ground. It would serve as a good weapon when they attacked as well as making him appear a whole lot more intimidating. He just needed a little more time and Stanley would arrive with help.

  One Ear barked and Red and Blotch Face sprinted towards Reginald, muddy divots flying out behind them. Red ran behind and bit Reginald’s angle but the skin was tough so it didn’t hurt. Reginald kicked and Red went flying backwards, whimpering.

  ‘Oh my, the mosquitos are big around here,’ quipped Reginald.

  Blotch Fa
ce leapt onto one end of the log and snarled ferociously. Reginald lifted it high and swung about mightily. Surprisingly, the pirate held on for a full revolution before he lost his grip and flew over the reeds, landing with a splash in Thompsons Creek.

  ‘Is that really the best you can do? I thought you were supposed to be pirates. Perhaps you would all like a swimming lesson?’

  Red returned, more wary this time. He circled Reginald with a limp, head down and keeping a careful eye on the log.

  ‘Care to see another demonstration, Red?’ Reginald slammed the log to the ground with as much force as he could manage. Mud and broken wood exploded and showered down on Red. The crescent of dogs stepped back but Red held position. ‘Or perhaps you’d enjoy a quick game of cricket?’ said Reginald with bluster. ‘I’ll bat and you can be the ball.’

  He glanced back at the Happy Trader. The dogs that had run past had reached the old tree at the mouth of the creek and were digging the Serendipity’s harpoon from the ground. Mud and sand fountained upwards. As he watched, the trailing rope fell slack as the freed harpoon was dragged into the river by the current. A lemur, caught half way along the rope, fell with a splash and was washed away. Reginald could hear the crew shouting, then someone shot an arrow at one of the pirates but it missed and stuck fast into the muddy riverbank.

  Red crept towards Reginald on his belly. His tail was wagging, as if he was enjoying himself, and the whites of his eyes were large.

  ‘Be warned, Red. This may hurt a little.’ He lifted the log above his head.

  Red shot straight under the log before Reginald could react. On the other side he bounded up and bit hard into Reginald’s fleshy ear. Reginald hadn’t known dogs could move so fast, jump so high, or bite so deep. The ear of an elephant is tender. To Reginald, the pain was excruciating. It felt like his ear was being torn asunder. He dropped the log and grabbed at the dog but at such a sharp angle he couldn’t see well enough to take hold. Red bit unmercifully hard and began swingingly like a pendulum.

  Reginald fell to one knee as he tried to shake the dog free.

  One Ear barked again and the remaining dogs hurled themselves at Reginald. They were trying to take advantage of his vulnerability. They bit into his legs, leapt onto his back and tore at any sagging skin. They scratched with claws, bit with teeth and howled.

  As a calf he had seen drawings of war elephants in the thick of battle. Working in a long straight line they scythed wild animals before them with their specially sharpened tusks, as harvesters scythe wheat at harvest time. None could stand in their path. Reginald thrashed about, just like the war elephants of old. Dogs went flying. Some hit the ground whimpering, others landed in Thompsons Creek with a splash. His trunk was really just a big muscle and with it he picked up many dogs and hurled them great distances. He threw a small white dog with brown spots clear cross the creek into the mangroves. But for every dog he managed to shake free, two more would be upon him biting and tearing at his flesh.

  ‘Who’s next in line?’ he asked, dizzy with pain. Dogs hung from him like gaudy costume jewellery. Red was still hanging from his ear like an oversized earring, his clamp-like jaws drawing blood. Reginald waded through the flood of yelping dogs towards a nearby tree trunk. It was time to rub Red loose. But there were too many and he was beginning to weaken. How long had Stanley been gone? Would he soon return with help? He could see that he had already lost ground and that it would only be a matter of time before the pirates prevailed. There were just too many and they were too well organised. If he could just hold on a little longer, help would surely arrive.

  Blotch Face was back from his swim, dripping wet. He leapt up and tore into Reginald’s other ear causing fire to spread throughout his body, blurring his vision. Shaking his head just made the pain worse. Blotch Face’s jaws were like steel traps.

  Reginald staggered sideways and fell heavily to his knees. Dogs swarmed over him like ants causing him to roll onto his side. He tried to roll back up but wasn’t quick enough. Now he was pinned down by dogs. They were tearing at his ankles, his ears, his eyes and his tail.

  Through dizzying pain he felt the heavy towrope connecting him to the Happy Trader go slack. The pirates had cut the rope. Soon the bulbous ship would be swept away in the river’s swift current.

  Reginald could feel himself slipping from consciousness. This is how it felt to be eaten alive. Then, as if from a great distance, he heard a strong and decisive bark. All the dogs released him at once and ran yelping back into the creek. There was great deal of splashing and then silence.

  Still lying on his side and too weak to move, Reginald watched dimly as the pirates readied the Serendipity for departure. The harpoon rope connecting the sleek ship with the Happy Trader was taut. The pirates had fired the harpoon at the bulbous ship so they could use it to tow them safely from Thompsons Creek and past the sandbar.

  The Serendipity glided past Reginald, entered the fast flowing river and was swept from view. There was nothing further he could do. Silence muffled the world like a thick blanket and memories of past regrets washed over him like a dark tide, then everything dimmed to black.