CHAPTER 19
The long days passed on board the _Mirabelle_. The hours rolledmajestically past as did the waves through which the _Mirabelle_ cuther way.
Amos and Christopher were kept out of sight until Mr. Wicker's shipwas several days out to sea, for the crew, not knowing that thesuccess of their voyage depended on Chris, would have been surly atthe presence of two such young boys on board, useless cargo, in theiropinion, who knew nothing of seafaring. But when Chris and Amosappeared under the banner of "stowaways," the sailors considered themfull of spunk, and welcomed them warmly.
Both Chris and Amos found life on a sailing vessel strange andfascinating but difficult to get used to. Ned Cilley as their bestfriend on board was the one to whom they turned whenever his dutiesgave him free time. However, to Chris's surprise, it was the firstmate, sad-looking Mr. Finney, who would patiently instruct them in seaterms and answer their endless questions.
As the days passed and the _Mirabelle_ pursued her long course throughtropical water, Chris, with many free hours to occupy, at lastunderstood how the model of the _Mirabelle_ had been so painstakinglyarranged inside a bottle. For the time seemed long between glimpses ofshore and shore, or until they sailed for a time along some wild andbeautiful tropic coast. Then Chris would lean on the side of the shiplooking at the mountainous or jungled shore. A scent such as comesfrom the opened door of a hothouse would drift out to sea to thesailors, who looked yearningly toward the land and the greenness. Awarm breath of flowers, damp moss, and leaves in the sun would minglewith the rough salt smell of the sea. Chris and Amos imagined tothemselves what the forest or the mountainsides would be like if theycould only land and investigate them.
Now and again small flocks of birds, migrating perhaps or blown outto sea, would land on the _Mirabelle_, and Ned Cilley made a largecage for some of the sweet-singing gaily feathered creatures for Chrisand Amos. And on one occasion when the _Mirabelle_ was sailing pastBrazil, a flock of butterflies was carried out on a breeze from shoreand hung on the rigging until the boys imagined themselves in ablossoming wood.
Chris had found, his first day at sea, the conch shell Mr. Wicker hadmentioned, and he alone of all the _Mirabelle's_ crew knew how the_Venture_ had fared.
That first evening, in the little cabin Captain Blizzard had givenChris and Amos, Chris had waited impatiently for Amos to sleep. Thetwo boys each had a hammock swung across the cabin by night which theyrolled up and put away to give more room by day. But that first nightpoor Chris had begun to despair that he would ever hear Mr. Wicker'svoice from the shell, for Amos was excited and had no wish to go tosleep. He swung back and forth, happy as a dark bird in his hammock,his round eyes looking toward the porthole where there was a faintgleam of night sea.
"Chris," Amos said, "we're sure going on a mighty far trip! ThatMister Finney, he showed me on a map, but I never heard of any of theplaces we pass by. The Bahamas, he say to me, then the West Indies,Cuba, Barbadoes"--he was ticking them off on his fingers as he namedthem--"an' on to South America. Away down at the tippy endaround--what's the name of that loud-named place?"
"Cape Horn?" Chris said. He was scarcely listening.
Amos tried to prop himself up on his elbow and promptly fell out ofthe hammock in a flurry of arms and legs and a heavy landing thumpthat brought a shout of laughter from Chris. After an attempt atmaking his bed again in the hammock, and some little difficulty inclambering safely back in again, Amos composed himself with the leastpossible movement in his swinging bed and yawned.
"I disremember," he said, "where else we're going. Wise Man islands,or Solemn Islands--"
"You mean, Solomon Islands?" Chris asked him. Amos gave another mightyyawn.
"That's what I said. Miss Becky, she read to me from the Bible aboutSolemn, how wise he was." There was a pause. "On that way--" Amos'svoice was becoming indistinct.
"We go past the West Indian Islands next," Chris murmured, almost tohimself. "I remember that."
"And the Cell-Bees Sea," Amos said in a whisper.
"Celebes," Chris corrected softly.
"What I said," came Amos's voice, and then at last there was silencein the cabin.
He almost got as far as the China Sea! Chris thought to himself, andholding to the hammock, eased himself out and on bare feet wentquietly to his sea chest.
Its square bulk stood in the shadow of the wall, but fragments oflight from the night sky caught the brass nailheads and bands upon itso that it appeared to wink cheerfully at Chris in the gloom.
Slowly, to avoid any creaks that might awake Amos, Chris lifted thelid, thrust in one hand and found the shell. He held it near the smallport for a moment, its rosy interior faded of color in the gray light.Then he turned it in his hand and put it to his ear.
At first he heard only the rushing sound of surf on a beach. Then thesea sound became fainter and a voice so familiar that it meant home tohim came to Chris's ear as if from a long way off.
"Christopher? Christopher, here I am," came Mr. Wicker's voice. "Howare you? All going well I hope. Please do me the favor to tell theCaptain not to put ashore at his usual place in Tahiti, but to go bynight to a cove he will find twelve leagues farther along the coast. Iwill tell you what to do nearer that time. He will find ample freshwater near that cove, but the _Venture_ is up to mischief. You mustescape it, and all on board the _Mirabelle_ shall be witnesses to whatClaggett Chew plans to do."
The voice faded out and then returned.
"You would probably like to know how far behind the _Venture_ is. Sheran aground--most unfortunately and most surprisingly--and is threefull days behind you. But she is a fast ship and will soon lessen thedistance. Please to tell the Captain so; he is the only one to know ofmy gifts and that it is possible for me to communicate with you. Tellhim not to stop for water or food until his stores are running low.You must not waste time. Have you heard me? Tap the edge of the shellthree times for 'Yes.'"
Chris tapped three times, feeling much happier and all at once notquite so much alone. The voice came back to his ear.
"I am following your progress from this room in the manner you know.Practise your magic alone, or you will lose the knack. And now goodnight. Oh yes--Becky Boozer has been crying into her apron all day.Partly for Ned Cilley but I fancy--" Chris heard a chuckle from awell-remembered room--"but I fancy, largely for two boys! Good night,Christopher. Sleep well."
Mr. Wicker's Window Page 18