The Bellmaker

by Brian Jacques

  Durry had run for’ard. He shouted from the bowsprit, ‘The shark’s gone under the water now, I can’t see him!’

  Pearl Queen shuddered fitfully. ‘It’s underneath now, scraping along the keel,’ said Joseph, pointing down.

  Finnbarr made ready with the tiller. ‘Tell me where ’e comes up agin an’ ’ow ’e’s comin’ at us!’

  Durry stayed for’ard, Joseph took the stern, whilst Rufe and Fatch climbed into the lower rigging to port and starboard. Late afternoon shadows lengthened on deck, sails flapped gently and rigging creaked, as the four lookouts scanned the sea around them. Suddenly Durry called, ‘Here it comes again, dead on for’ ard!’

  Finnbarr and Log a Log were quick this time; they shot the tiller hard aport and were rewarded by Durry’s cheer. ‘Hurray! The shark never touched us that time!’

  Silence again . . .

  Rosie sat with a towel in her mouth, eyes travelling back and forth. Joseph’s paws gripped the rail; he shouted, ‘Look out, it’s coming at us from astern . . . No wait! . . . It’s gone down again. Rufe! Over by you!’

  Rufe Brush anchored his tail around a spar, screaming, ‘The shark, the shark! Comin’ starboard side amidships!’

  Again the sea otter and the shrew threw the tiller aport, Finnbarr muttering as they did, ‘Can’t git outta the way much if the rogue belts us amidships!’

  Boooommmm!

  The entire ship shook sickeningly under the impact.

  ‘Hog overboard, Durry’s in the water!’ somebeast yelled.

  The shark was a short distance away. Feeling the agitation caused by Durry’s thrashing paws, it homed in on him, heading straight and swift as an arrow. Durry was being swept along level with the midships as Joseph yelled out, ‘Get a line, somebeast throw him a line!’

  Already the Bellmaker was dashing to the rail. He saw it would be too late for Durry in a very short time. Without thinking he grabbed the nearest thing – Foremole. Grasping the mole’s footpaws firmly, Joseph shot him out through a gap in the rails, shouting aloud, ‘Stretch out, Foremole! Durry, get hold of him quick!’ The hedgehog practically leapt from the sea to grab Foremole’s digging claws and he held on like a leech.

  ‘Oo urr yurr cumms zurr shark!’

  The vicious head lifted clear of the waves, mouth agape as it hurled itself at Durry. Joseph’s grip on Foremole was like a vice. The powerful Bellmaker lifted back his head, roaring at the sky as he gave an almighty heave.

  ‘Redwaaaalll!’

  Thokk!

  Foremole and Durry shot over Joseph’s head, so great was the strength he put into his effort. All three collapsed in a heap on the deck, Joseph wriggling backward calling, ‘Look out, the shark – stay clear!’

  The shark’s head was stuck between the midship rails. Pearl Queen listed heavily as the giant brute thrashed and pulled. Log a Log grabbed a boarding pike, Finnbarr unsheathed his swords, and together they charged the shark. Jumping from side to side, avoiding the snapping jaws and slashing teeth, Finnbarr Galedeep attacked ferociously with both swords, hacking and thrusting at the monstrous head. The ship began heeling perilously as it pushed forward, wriggling its body, thrusting to get at its tormentor.

  Log a Log saw Finnbarr slip and fall to the water-slicked deck, and with a wild cry he charged the shark.

  ‘Logalogalogalogalog!’

  The shrew Chieftain drove the pike hard into the fleshy area above the shark’s mouth. With a dreadful rattling, hissing noise it recoiled sharply and fell free of the smashed rails into the sea. Pearl Queen bobbed upright, freed of the great weight, water running from her gunwales in torrents. The crew’s mighty cheer was overshadowed by Fatch shouting from the rigging, ‘Finnbarr! Another shark, coming from astern!’

  Sure enough, there was the deadly triangular fin of yet another sea monster ploughing steadily towards Pearl Queen.

  To the amazement of the crew, Finnbarr Galedeep began a little jig around the tiller. ‘Hahaharr, we’re saved, hohoho, good ole shark!’

  Rosie took the towel from her mouth. ‘The poor chap’s gone cuckoo, what’s he laughin’ at?’

  Finnbarr sat on the tiller, swinging to and fro. ‘Haharr, you’ll see marm, mad am I? Watch that other shark!’

  The other shark ignored the ship completely and headed right for the injured monster, scenting its blood in the water. The sea thrashed up red foam as predator attacked predator.

  Joseph turned away from the sickening sight. ‘Now I know what you were laughing at, Finnbarr. The sharks are cannibals, they’ll eat each other.’

  The otter resumed his position at the tiller. ‘Aye, they’re scavengers, they’ll attack anythin’ that’s bleedin’ an’ injured. Seabeasts don’t know about pity. So now, Bellmaker, ask the fates’n’fortunes t’be good an’ sail us inter land soon.’

  ‘Sail into land, what for?’ Joseph appeared puzzled by the request.

  The sea otter gave a rueful grin. ‘I knew the tiller wasn’t workin’ right, it didn’t budge the Queen last time yon shark charged us amidships. Now I knows why, that scurvy seabeast snapped our rudder clean off when it was attackin’ us.’

  Joseph tested the tiller; it swung limply back and forth. ‘You mean that you can’t control the vessel?’

  ‘Aye, that’s about the size of it, Joseph. We’re at the mercy of the ’igh seas, matey, an’ ’tis comin’ on night too. I’ll post lookouts in the riggin’, and if they sights land we might be able to row an’ scull, so’s we kin ’elp pore ole Pearl Queen inter shore. Then I kin fix ’er up.’

  Fortunately the night seas lay calm, with little wind or breeze to carry the vessel one way or another. Rosie and Foremole took first watch aft, with two shrews standing for’ard. Foremole turned his gaze up to the star-strewn skies. After a lengthy spell, in which he attempted a star count, he turned to his companion.

  ‘You’m be vurry soilent marm, be ee thinken?’ he asked.

  Rosie tossed an apple core overboard; it bobbed on the surface aimlessly. ‘What, er, oh yes, thinkin’. Hmm, can’t help wonderin’ how Tarquin is coping with the family back at Redwall. I’m a dreadful creature really, wot? Goin’ off harum scarum, sailin’ and questin’, while poor old Tarkers is prob’ly workin’ his paws to the bone lookin’ after the family. There must be a lot of butterfly in me somewhere.’

  Foremole scanned the dark horizon, his chin resting on both paws. ‘You’m b’aint no butterflyer marm, us’n’s are only a doin’ our dooty, ’elpin’ friends and followin’ Martin’s request. Zurr Tarquin an’ ee liddle uns, hurr, oanly danger they be in is frumm eatin’ too much. Yore fam’ly be a gurt lot safer at ee Abbey than us’n’s out ’ere on ee gurt sea wi’ no rudder to steer us.’

  The optimistic hare pulled another apple from her tunic and began munching happily. ‘You’re right of course old thing, I’ll bet Tarquin and the family will be so bally tubby I won’t recognize ’em when we return. Bunch of gluttons, scoffin’ away at all that lovely food, without a thought of their poor mater starvin’ out here on the deep. Wot?’

  Foremole smiled as another apple core went sailing over the stern rail and plopped into the sea. ‘Hurr, you’m roight thurr marm!’

  25

  JOSEPH ROUSED DURRY, Rufe and Fatch for the dogwatch in the two hours before dawn. Rufe yawned and stretched mightily, saying, ‘Looks like we’ve been bobbing up’n down in the same place all night to me.’

  Fatch cast a weighted line over the side, noting its progress. ‘No, mate, we’ve been movin’ all right, only slow, but steady.’

  Durry sniffed the still air appreciatively. ‘Wood burnin’ in the galley, soon be breakfast time. I’m fair starved an’ that’s a fact!’

  They had not long to wait. Finnbarr appeared with a tray. ‘Some early vittles fer me gallant watchbeasts. Come on, mates, there’s a bowl of ’ot veggible soup apiece an’ some fresh baked bread. Tuck in!’

  While they ate, Finnbarr’s keen eyes spotted the telltale signs to the east in the earl
y dawn light. ‘There ’tis, land ho, buckoes!’

  Durry ran to the rail, bowl in paw. ‘Land – where? I can’t see anything.’

  The sea otter chided him merrily. ‘That’s cos yer a cellar ’og from an Abbey, but we’ll make a sailor of yer yet, young Quill. Ahoy, Fatch, yore a waterbeast, show Durry the landfall.’

  The Guosim shrew pointed with a fresh bread crust. ‘East. See that bundle of grey cloud, matey, well it ain’t cloud, that’s land, though it don’t look like much.’

  Finnbarr climbed into the rigging for a better view. ‘Aye, yer right, all rock an’ cliff, but any ole port’ll do fer rudderless ducks like us. Rufey, rouse all paws, we’ll set sail fer any breeze t’carry us to it.’

  Under Finnbarr Galedeep’s skilful navigation Pearl Queen hove alongside the high grim rocks in bright morning sunlight. Log a Log stared up at the grey forbidding cliffs, saying, ‘No place we can berth her around here, Finn!’

  The sea otter took up a boarding pike. ‘That’s a fact. Come on crew, git pikes’n’spars, we’ll push ’er round these rocks until we finds a landing!’

  Striving and sweating under the eye of the hot morning sun, the crew pushed at the rock face with pikes and spars. It was high noon when they found a landfall on the island. A rocky cove opening out into a forest-fringed beach, the high cliffs rearing either side of the entrance, it gave Pearl Queen scant leeway. Finnbarr winced as the vessel scraped through the opening with barely a splinter to spare; he called out orders to guide them through.

  ‘Joseph, Durry, Rosie, git rope fenders o’er the sides to protect ’er. You aloft, turn those mast spars sideways or they’ll be smashed. Fatch, sound the depth with a lead!’

  Rufe had the best view of the incoming shore from his perch in the bows, and he could not believe his eyes. ‘Ships! Look, there’s ships in here, Finnbarr!’

  And ships there were, but none of them in any fit state to sail on the sea. They were all wrecks. Finnbarr cast an experienced eye over the hulks that littered the shoreline where beach met cliff on both sides. ‘Harr, that’s a sad sight, messmates! That’n there is a merchantship, t’other side of it looks like a searat galley, an’ lookit that, an’ ole otter fishin’ smack, ’tis long seasons since I clapped eyes on one o’ those!’

  Joseph came up to stand beside Finnbarr. ‘But they’re all wrecked beyond repair. What d’you suppose happened here, Finn?’ he asked.

  ‘Happened? Nothin’, mate, they’ve all been thrown up ’ere by the sea, blown towards this island durin’ storms an’ forced through that gap in the rocks on floodtides. Ah well, mates, one beast’s ill wind is another’s good fortune. We’ll soon find us a spankin’ good rudder in this cove!’

  Joseph scouted out a good axe, Log a Log took a broken and chipped sword to serve as a saw and Finnbarr found his heavy mallet. Pearl Queen nosed into the soft sands of the shallows and the trio of rudder finders prepared to wade ashore. Rosie pouted a little. ‘Bit of a bore, wot, all of us cooped up here on board, we could be off into those woods lookin’ for fresh water and provisions.’

  The Bellmaker wagged a warning paw at her. ‘Stay where you are, Rosie Woodsorrel, and pay attention to Finnbarr. We don’t want the crew wandering loose about this island, you never know what beasts may be lurking inland.’

  A rudder was found sticking from the stern of a high-beached wreck. They got to work immediately, and, using the mallet and the axe, Log a Log and Joseph unpinned it from its moorings. Finnbarr stood on the deck of the wreck. ‘This’n’s been a fast Corsair craft in ’er day, single masted an’ flat bottomed for coastal raidin’. Aye aye, why don’t we use ’er mainmast to replace our broken one?’

  Rufe and his two friends attached themselves to a party of shrews who came aboard to remove the mast. It was hard and heavy work under the hot noonday sun. Rosie had given up sulking and appointed herself cook. She and Foremole were in the galley inventing a huge mixed fruit and honey pudding for the evening meal.

  ‘Where’s the candied chestnuts got to? Foremole, you villain, stop nibblin’ them an’ pass them here!’

  The mole relinquished the nuts with a guilty smile. ‘Burr, they’m good uns, me an’ ee Abbot picked ’em last autumn, they’m been soakin’ in ee cask of hunny ever since. Ho urr, oi dearly do luv a good candy chesknutter, hoo aye!’

  Rosie stuffed several in her mouth and spoke around them. ‘So do I, d’you think it’s worth savin’ any for the crew?’

  Pearl Queen’s crew worked late into the evening on Finnbarr’s urging. ‘Fix ’er t’day, sail away tomorrer, mates, that’s the ticket! Besides, I don’t like ’angin’ around on this island, I got a funny feelin’ in me stummick about the place, ’tis too nice.’

  Joseph wielded the mallet, hammering home the last copper spikes that held the rudder brackets in place. He tested the tiller, and found it swung well. ‘There, a good job well done! How’s the mast coming along, Log a Log, nearly there?’

  ‘Aye, almost ready,’ the shrew Chieftain called up from the for’ard hold. ‘I’m seatin’ it in pitch an’ caulkin’ it tight with oakum so it’ll be waterproof and stand firm.’

  Foremole and Rosie poked their heads from the galley. ‘We’m gotten noice cool ’tober ale yurr for ee!’

  ‘And a Pearl Queen Pudden, though you chaps best hurry or it’ll start stickin’ to the stove!’

  The rudder workers joined the mast riggers, and with the added help of willing paws they had the foremast rigged as the sun dipped below the western horizon and night set in.

  The Pearl Queen Pudden was voted a huge success by all the crew, who went back licking their spoons for second helpings. Rosie undid her apron with a flourish, winking at Foremole. ‘Y’know, it wouldn’t hurt old Finnbarr to appoint me permanent cook aboard this vessel, jolly wise choice!’

  Foremole heaped two bowls with pudding for himself and Rosie. ’Ee must amember, miz Rose, that cookers be potwashers too, hurr.’

  Rosie threw the apron to a nearby shrew. ‘Hmph! I’ve just resigned!’

  Sheltered by the high rocks, the cove was snug from wind and weather. With no anxiety and the prospect of sailing on the morrow, Pearl Queen’s crew lay about on the hatch covers, eating, drinking and singing. Rosie was prevailed upon to perform her laughing song. With Finnbarr twiddling the keys of his ottercordion she braced herself and launched into it.

  The crew found themselves sorry they had asked her to start. Rosie stood demurely, paws clasped, eyelids aflutter, and began singing in a piercing soprano voice, outrageously twisting and elongating the words:

  ‘There is nought on this earth to com-pa-a-a-a-are,

  With a comely young fee-hee-male ha-a-a-a-a-are,

  He-er beauty is winsome to see-e-ee-e-e-ee-ee,

  She will smile and she’ll larff pri-ti-lee-eeeeeeee!

  Whoohahahahooh haha, whoohahahahooh ha ha ha.’

  She smiled coyly at her stunned audience. ‘Tarquin wrote this for me, y’know – there’s another six verses. Shall I sing them for you, chaps?’

  There followed a joint unplugging of paws from ears as the entire crew yelled in a single voice, ‘No thank you!’

  The Hon Rosie sniffed airily as she launched herself at a bowl of pudding. ‘Rotten lot, somebeasts have no appreciation at all of life’s finer things, wot?’

  However, her indignation soon vanished as she clapped paws with the rest, in time to Joseph’s rendition of an old favourite. Finnbarr twiddled an accompaniment as the Bellmaker’s strong baritone voice echoed round the cove.

  ‘O Willyum mole to his father said,

  “Why don’t I hear daybreak?

  And why can’t I hear the nightfall?

  No noise does either make.

  O riddle me diddle me riddle me ree,

  Silly old father tell to me,

  Why doesn’t a fish nest in a tree,

  Or a bird fly under the sea?”

  “O wise little son,” said his father,

  “You never
hear daybreak,

  And you’re never awake to hear nightfall,

  You’re asleep for goodness sake!

  So riddle you diddle you fiddle you do,

  Your silly old father loves you true,

  If you’re good I’ll tell you something more,

  A beech is a tree and a beach is a shore,

  And if sky is blue and wind blew too,

  Your silly old father is wiser than you,

  So weigh my words as you go on your way,

  Tomorrow’s today when the nightfalls away!”’

  Amid the applause that followed Finnbarr slipped back into the darkness, fading away like a shadow. Log a Log followed him, rapier at the ready. Rufe noticed them going and said in a loud voice to Fatch, ‘Where are those two going, mate?’

  ‘Keep yer voice down, Rufey, an’ act normal like,’ the Guosim shrew cautioned him.

  There followed a squeal and a scuffle. Joseph reached for a boarding pike as he whispered, ‘Stay calm everybeast, keep your weapons close to paw and wait until Finnbarr or Log a Log calls us. There’s been something or someone out there since dusk!’

  ‘Owow lemme go, get y’paws off me, searat!’

  Durry was startled by the shrill voice. He turned to see Finnbarr hauling a struggling young squirrel over the rail. ‘Be still, yer liddle rogue, or I’ll tan yer ’ide. Ouch! ’E bit me!’

  Log a Log materialized out of the gloom, tugging a small sobbing mousemaid behind him. ‘Here’s another one, I reckon there’s more out there!’

  The mousemaid broke free; throwing herself down in front of Joseph she pleaded brokenly, ‘Oh, please don’t slay us sir. Please!’

  The young squirrel attempted to bite Finnbarr Galedeep again; he struggled and kicked viciously, shouting, ‘Save your breath Wincey, they’re pirates, you won’t get mercy from this scummy lot!’

  Rosie Woodsorrel confronted him. ‘Now see here, young thingummybob, mind your manners, do we look like pirates?’

  Squirming hard to get free of the sea otter’s iron grip, the young squirrel bared his teeth. ‘If you’re not pirates then tell this big searat to let go of me!’ he snarled.