Birds of Prey - Smith Wilbur (версия книг TXT) 📗

One at a time, with the point of his dirk, he prised and whittled the dowels from their drilled seats. It was slow work and he dared make no noise. Any blow or rasp would reverberate through the ship.

It was almost dawn before he was able to remove the last peg and then to slip the blade of his dagger into the joint and lever open the panel. It came away suddenly, with a squeal of protesting wood against the oak frame that seemed to carry through the hull, and must surely alarm both his father and the Governor.

With hated breath he waited for terrible retribution to fall around his head, but the minutes slid by, and at last he could breathe again.

Gingerly he stuck his head and shoulders through the rectangular opening. Katinka's toilet cabin beyond was in darkness, but the odour of her perfume made his breath come short. He listened intently, but could hear nothing from the main cabin beyond. Then, faintly, the sound of the ship's bell reached him from the deck above and he realized with dismay that it was almost dawn and in half an hour his watch would begin.

He pulled his head out of the opening, and replaced the panel, securing it with the wooden dowels, but so lightly that they could be removed in seconds.

Would you allow the Buzzard's men ashore?" Hal asked his father respectfully. "Forgive me, IS Father, but can you trust him that far?"

"Can I stop him without provoking a fight?" Sir Francis answered with another question. "He says he needs water and firewood, and we do not own this land or even this lagoon. How can I forbid it to him?"

Hal might have protested further, but his father silenced him with a quick frown, and turned to greet Lord Cumbrae as the keel of his longboat kissed the sands of the beach and he sprang ashore his legs beneath the plaid furred with wiry ginger hair like a bear's.

"All God's blessings upon you this lovely morning, Franky," he shouted, as he came towards them. His pale blue eyes darted restlessly as minnows in a pool under his beetling red brows.

"He sees everything," Hal murmured. "He has come to find out where we have stored the spice."

"We cannot hide the spice. There's a mountain of it," Sir Francis told him. "But we can make the thieving of it difficult for him. "Then he smiled bleakly at Cumbrae as he came up. "I hope I see you in good health, and that the whisky did not trouble your sleep last night, sir."

"The elixir of life, Franky. The blood in my veins." His eyes were bloodshot as they darted about the encampment at the edge of the forest. "I need to fill my water casks. There must be good sweet water hereabouts."

"A mile up the lagoon. There's a stream comes in from the hills."

"Plenty of fish." The Buzzard gestured at the racks of poles set up in the clearing upon which the split carcasses were laid out over the slow smoking fires of green wood. "I'll have my lads catch some for us also. But what about meat? Are there any deer or wild cattle in the forest?"

"There are elephants, and herds of wild buffalo. But all are fierce, and even a musket ball in the ribs does not bring them down. However, as soon as the ship is careened I intend sending a band of hunters inland, beyond the hills to see if they cannot find easier prey."

It was apparent that Cumbrae had asked the question to give himself space, and he hardly bothered to listen to the reply. When his roving eyes gleamed, Hal followed their gaze. The Buzzard had discovered the row of thatched lean-to shelters a hundred paces back among the trees, under which the huge casks of spice stood in serried ranks.

"So you plan to beach and careen the galleon." Cumbrae turned away from the spice store, and nodded across the water at the hull of the Resolution. "A wise plan. If you need help, I have three first-rate carpenters."

"You are amiable," Sir Francis told him. "I may call upon you "Anything to help a fellow Knight. I know you would do the same for me." The Buzzard clapped him warmly on the shoulder. "Now, while my shore party goes to refill the water casks, you and I can look for a suitable place to set up our Lodge. We must do young Hal here proud. It's an important day for him."

Sir Francis glanced at Hal. "Aboli is waiting for you." He nodded to where the big black man stood patiently a little further down the beach.

Hal watched his father walk away with Cumbrae and disappear down a footpath into the forest. Then he ran down to join Aboli. "I am ready at last. Let us go."

Aboli set off immediately, trotting along the beach towards the head of the lagoon. Hal fell in beside him. "You have no sticks?"

"We will cut them from the forest." Aboli tapped the shaft of the hand axe, the steel head of which was hooked over his shoulder, and turned off the beach as he spoke. He led Hal a mile or so inland until they reached a dense thicket. "I marked these trees earlier. My tribe call them the kweti. From them we make the finest throwing sticks."

As they pushed into the dense thicket, there was a explosion of flying leaves and crashing branches as some huge beast charged away ahead of them. They caught a glimpse of scabby black hide and the flash of great bossed horns.

"Nyati!"Aboli told Hal. "The wild buffalo."

"We should hunt him." Hal unslung the musket from his shoulder, and reached -eagerly for the flint and steel in his pouch to light his slow-match. "Such a monster would give us beef for all the ship's company."

Aboli grinned and shook his head. "He would hunt you first. There is no fiercer beast in all the forest, not even the lion. He will laugh at your little lead musket balls as he splits your belly open with those mighty spears he carries atop his head." He swung the axe from his shoulder. "Leave old Nyati be, and we will find other meat to feed the crew."