The Pirates in the Deep Green Sea (20 page)

And we never set eyes on a shrimp again?

Swift and slim

In a silver shoal

We swoop and swim

In search of our goal—

A sweet soft shrimp for our supper to-night

In the shimmering sheen of the silver light

Of a circlet of moon and the stars so bright—

Swift and soft and silent—
shoo!

Shivering, quivering—
whew, whew, whew!

Where the shallows skip on the saffron sand

Or the surges sweep

O'er the salt-sea deep—

To the scattering spray and the stormy strand

We whisper the secretest wish of our soul

In this silly sweet song of the Silver Shoal—

Shoo, shoo,

Shoo, shoo,

Shoo, shoo, shoo!'

Then a great chattering broke out, and all the fishes in the Shoal said to each other: ‘How sweetly we sang! Oh, we sing splendidly; that went with a bang! I'm sure there's no shoal in the whole of the sea that rejoices in voices as choice as we!'

‘Wait for me here,' said Timothy to William Button. ‘I'm going to talk to them.'

He jumped off the shark and swam towards the herring, and when he was on the fringe of the Shoal he shouted in a friendly way, ‘Good morning, fishes!'

‘Shining dawning!' they answered. ‘And our best wishes!'

‘I need help,' said Timothy, ‘and I very much hope you'll do something for me.'

‘Will it be stormy?' they asked.

‘Well,' he said, ‘there may be a little fighting.'

‘But how exciting!' they replied. ‘Swim in more approachably, and we'll share your story more sociably.'

A moment or two later, Timothy was entirely surrounded by thousands and tens of thousands of little glittering fish. They pressed closely against him, above and below, against his legs and his ribs. He could feel them under his feet and under his arms, and he hardly knew whether he was
treading water or treading on the Shoal. Only round his head—and that was for politeness—did they leave a little clear space, and it was pinpointed with hundreds of gleaming eyes. For a minute or so the dazzle of light on silver scales bewildered him, and the pushing and prodding of a multitude of firm little heads—and the feathery stroking of a myriad brisk little tails—gave him an uncomfortable feeling that he was either going to be eaten alive or tickled to death. But the herring were so obviously friendly, and eager to help, that he soon forgot his discomfort, and in the simplest words he could find he began to explain the situation and tell them what he wanted them to do.

They listened closely, and whenever he mentioned the pirates they all hissed. Sometimes they found it difficult to understand him, and then the Shoal would exclaim: ‘Softly, softly! Say it more slowly. Say it seven times slowly.' It was strange and a little confusing to listen to the voice of the Shoal—which was many thousands of voices all speaking together—for it came from under his toes and behind his ears, from the tips of his fingers and the back of his knees and beneath his chin; and because he had to repeat some parts of his story seven times, it took him a long time to tell it. But when at last he had finished, the herring spoke with a sudden rush, like a river running in spate.

‘Full steam ahead!' they said. ‘Smite and spare not! We'll slash ‘em and smash ‘em and smear 'em and smother 'em! Oh, steer us, dear boy,
and we shall annoy Inky Poops with great joy. Every fish will do as you wish, and because our sense of solidarity is unerring, you can rely on us to the very last herring!'

Timothy was much encouraged by this quick and enthusiastic response, and he thanked the Shoal with all his heart.

‘But please be patient,' he said, ‘because we must wait till Inky Poops's fleet is moving, and then—well, we'll do what I suggested. So will you please swim in
that
direction as hard as you can'—he pointed south-south-west, which was the course that Inky Poops must take—‘and William Button and I will join you as soon as we have made all our arrangements.'

‘Sou'-sou'-west and we'll see you soon, and we'll save your brother before it's noon!' shouted the Shoal, and every fish immediately turned in that direction and swam so quickly away that in a few seconds Timothy was all alone again. The Shoal struck up a brisk and lively tune that sounded like a great yacht under full sail, heeling to the wind and cutting the pointed sea. It was evidently a marching-song, but Timothy could not stay and listen to it, because he had to hurry back to William Button.

William was waiting rather anxiously for him, though no warning had yet come from Henry String that Inky Poops was preparing to move. Timothy climbed into the howdah and carefully explained what he intended to do; and William
Button was delighted by his plan and thought it had a good chance of being successful.

‘I shall want you to come with me,' said Timothy, ‘and you'd better bring your lance, because that's the only weapon we have.'

William thrust at an imaginary enemy with the lance he used to spur the shark, and said, ‘If I can tickle Inky Poops in the ribs with this, it'll be the happiest day I've had for many a year.'

‘Do you think Henry String will be able to drive both the sharks?' asked Timothy.

‘Easy,' said William. ‘He's one of the best drivers in the sea.'

‘Then let's go down and talk to him, and tell him the plan,' said Timothy.

They found Henry and the other shark floating in the middle depths of the sea, and far below they could just distinguish a busy movement in the pirates' lines.

‘That's Inky Poops getting ready at last,' said Henry. ‘Dan Scumbril went off an hour ago.'

‘We're going to make an attack,' said Timothy, ‘and this is how I think we should do it.'

Henry grumbled a little when he learnt that he was to play a less exciting part than William Button, but he agreed that he was a better driver than William, and therefore more capable of looking after the two sharks; as he might have to do for some considerable time. Then, when all the details of the plan had been settled, Timothy and William Button turned their shark to the south again and
hurried after the herring, while Henry String remained to watch the pirates.

Timothy and William quickly overtook the Shoal, and encouraged it to keep swimming on a south-south-westerly course, while at the same time they kept a good look-out to the rear for Henry String. They had to wait for nearly an hour before they saw him and his shark break the surface. Then they stopped and waited for him, and the Shoal lay close beside them. Henry came up at high speed—‘Doing thirty knots at the very least,' said William—and told them that Inky Poops was under way at last.

‘Well, it won't be long now,' said William, and passed his reins to Henry. Timothy and William jumped out of their howdah, and Henry a little jealously wished them luck. Then, with a firm grip on both sets of reins and the two sharks swimming side by side, he drove them westward, and presently turned north and went down. His part in the plan was to keep pace with the pirate fleet on its westerly flank: he had to avoid being seen himself, but watch carefully for what happened.

Timothy and William Button swam into the midst of the Shoal, and all the herring chattered, ‘Screen ‘em and cover ‘em, hide ‘em from sight; but careful, don't smother ‘em, leave ‘em some light.' They surrounded the two boys completely, in front and behind, above and below and on both sides, but beneath them the Shoal was more thinly packed so that Timothy and William could see
between the herring into the sea below; and with their heads all pointing to the north, they waited for the pirates.

‘I think,' said Timothy, ‘you'd better sing something. If they hear you singing the pirates won't be suspicious.'

‘Certainly, certainly,' said the herring and began to sing again the song that Timothy had first heard:

‘Swift and soft and silent,
shoo,

Shimmering, shivering,
whew, whew, whew!'

Presently they saw approaching the leading sharks of Inky Poops's fleet, who were travelling some three or four fathoms deeper in the sea.

‘They're not in very good order, are they?' whispered Timothy.

‘No discipline, that's what's wrong with them,' said William. ‘They're out of line and out of column too.'

There were, indeed, wide gaps between many of the sharks, though here and there two or three swam close together. They were moving at a fair speed but in a very ragged untidy array, and the pirates paid no attention to the Shoal of herring singing above them. Nor, indeed, was there any reason why they should; for it appeared to be just the same as any other shoal, and its song was well known throughout the sea.

‘Inky Poops is sure to be in the middle of the fleet, isn't he?' murmured Timothy.

‘I don't know,' said William. ‘He may be dawdling along behind it, and that'll be all the better for us—no, there he is! See him? There he is.'

‘Down, down!' cried Timothy to the herring. ‘Down and at them!'

‘Smite and spare not!' shouted the herring. ‘Slash ‘em and smash ‘em!' And in a great shining solid mass, all swimming swiftly together, with Timothy and William Button in the midst of them, the Shoal dived suddenly towards a shark in the middle of the fleet, in whose comfortable howdah, paying no attention to the danger above him, sat Inky Poops with Hew beside him.

Like a hail-storm glittering in the sun the Shoal burst upon the shark, and surrounded it and hid it from sight. Inky Poops howled in alarm, but his voice was quickly choked when a herring swam half way down his throat, and a thousand other fish so confused him and battered him that he fell out of the howdah, and William Button, striking shrewdly with his lance, managed to prick him as he fell. Timothy, in the meantime, had grappled Hew and lifted him from his seat, crying, ‘You're all right now. Don't ask any questions, just swim—and swim hard!'

Hew was as much bewildered by the sudden bursting of the Shoal as Inky Poops had been, but recognising Timothy's voice he obeyed him, and struck out strongly in the same direction.

The Shoal reformed, and now with three boys
in its midst turned westward, while the nearer pirates steered their sharks hither and thither in great disorder. They had no idea what had happened, but some of them could see that their captain's howdah was empty, while others in the rear saw Inky Poops swimming round in circles, as though he were still trying to escape from the herring, which by now were two or three hundred yards to the west.

The Shoal swam on till it met Henry String, waiting with his pair of sharks, and there it stopped. There was no time for making long speeches, but Timothy told the herring how grateful he was, and promised to recommend them to Davy Jones for their splendid behaviour. The herring were so excited by the success of their manœuvre that for once they were unable to speak in chorus together, and though the sea was full of the whispering of innumerable voices, no one could understand what they were saying. But they were obviously delighted with themselves, for their eyes were glittering more brightly than ever, and their scales shone like silver new-minted and filled the sea with light. They remembered, moreover, what they had promised to do, and scattered right and left and up and down in a vast glimmering screen to cover the boys' escape.

Timothy mounted with William Button again, and Hew with Henry String, and pricking their sharks and waving good-bye to the herring they set off at their utmost speed. All day the sharks
swam side by side, and when Hew saw Timothy riding within a few feet of him, and Timothy saw Hew no further away, they both felt as happy and as much at home again as if they were walking together on the beach of Inner Bay.

When night fell they went down and found a sleeping-shell without much difficulty, and saw, to their surprise, that the Crab who was its caretaker was actually on duty.

‘How far is it from here to Davy Jones's summer court?' asked Timothy.

‘The very same distance it is from Ushant to Scilly,' answered the Crab, and in an extraordinary voice like two stones being rubbed together, began to sing:

‘Farewell and adieu to you, fine Spanish ladies,

Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain — '

‘Oh, please don't bother to sing any more!' Timothy interrupted. ‘I know the song quite well, and the distance is thirty-five leagues, isn't it?'

‘It is, it is — or that's what it used to be when I was young,' said the Crab ill-temperedly; for singing was his only hobby, and not for many years had he found anyone who could bear to listen to him.

‘And I don't suppose it's changed much: the distance from Ushant to Scilly, I mean?'

‘Everything's changing,' said the Crab. ‘Everything's getting worse and worse.'

‘Not everything, surely?'

‘Everything,' said the Crab firmly. ‘Look at the shrimp paste they issue nowadays—'

‘Yes, that's what I want,' said Timothy. ‘Can you give us some food, please?'

‘You'll get the usual food if you're going to spend the night here.'

‘But we're not. We want to go on a little farther—'

No refreshments can be served except on the premises,' said the Crab. ‘That's orders, that is, and it serves you right for not letting me sing.'

They had decided that it would be dangerous to sleep in a shell, in case they were being pursued by any of Inky Poops's pirates. They had seen two of his sharks come through the herring-screen, searching vaguely for an enemy, and though they did not think they had been observed, they could not be sure; and they had judged it wiser to beg their supper, and then go on to find a hiding-place for the night. The Crab's refusal to give them food was annoying, and Timothy began to argue with him. His argument did no good, but he noticed, while he was talking, that William Button and Henry String were slipping in and out of the shell, behind the Crab's back, and helping themselves. So he went on talking until William signalled to him that they had got enough, and then he told the Crab how sorry he was to have troubled him; and said good-bye.