Chapter 8. The Pitfall

“If you will permit me the observation, it appears that there is land on the horizon. In my opinion, it is the mainland. However, I may be mistaken.”

“Mainland?” growled Wolf. “Blow me down! It can’t be the mainland! By my calculations we should be somewhere between Trinidad and Tobago⁶⁷.”

“All the same, I suggest that you glance through your long glass,” insisted Camel, “two humps are better than one’, as the wisdom of my people would have it.”

“Don’t tell me what to do! I know where I should be looking!” Wolf snapped, all the same pulling his long glass from his belt and training it on the horizon.

“Well, call me Captain Bligh⁶⁸ and throw me overboard! It is the mainland! It looks like we were badly set west during the storm, and we’re off course.”

“That is a totally logical explanation,” Camel said, “however, I would not rule out…”

“Avast yer palaver⁶⁹!” barked Wolf, “helmsman, come two points to starboard! We’ll head for that bay and drop anchor there.”

Mike obediently turned the helm right.

After the business with Moosie, Captain Wolf assigned Mike to the helm. When Mike needed to go aloft to furl or unfurl the sails, Wolf took the helm himself. Deep down, Mike was glad for the promotion, even though he felt sorry for Moosie being demoted.

“Reef the mainsail⁷⁰!” Wolf ordered. “Dead slow. Three points to starboard. Look alive up forward, watch out for reefs!⁷¹”

Camel hung his nose over the ship’s prow, diligently scrutinizing the calm water of the gulf, but he didn’t see any reefs.

When the shore didn’t look more than a cable length⁷² away, Wolf ordered all sails lowered and then dropped anchor. The anchor hit bottom in a few seconds; the gulf wasn’t deep.

“Launch the small boat, boy!” Wolf commanded. “Moose, Camel, cabin boy – head for shore and find fresh water!”

Moosie was not exactly dying of curiosity to set foot on the unfamiliar shore.

“Maybe there are wild animals there,” he said, “maybe they’ll eat me. Let me stay on the boat!”

“Palaver! And she’s a ship, not a boat!” wheezed Wolf, but looking at Moosie’s droopy horns, he changed his mind. “All right, Antlers, stay on board, keep a sharp eye on the ladder and don’t climb anywhere with those hooves of yours. Batten down the hatches⁷³ and don’t start any fires!”

“Yes, yes!” Moosie said gratefully. “I won’t burn anything. I’ll close everything and not open up for anybody.”

Wolf, Camel and Mike climbed down into the boat and headed for shore. Soon the boat’s bow nosed into the coastal rocks. The voyagers jumped out onto the shore. The air on dry land carried aromas of cliffs in the sunshine, warm grass and other smells that they had never sniffed before. There was no smell of predators in the air.

“We’ll split into two groups!” Wolf ordered. “Boy and camel, you go right, and I’ll go left. If anybody finds water, start yelling, and if you run into any danger, start howling.”

“May I be so bold as to observe, Dreamer said, “that camels do not howl; they generate a sound like…”

Wolf started to get angry, and Mike hastened to calm him down.

“It’s okay,” he said, “I can howl almost like a wolf.”

He crouched down, lifted his face up and let loose a mournful, lingering howl. Camel unconsciously shrunk back to one side, and Wolf chuckled, pleased.

“Well done, boy, you’re making progress! We’ll make a real Sea Wolf out of you yet!”

Camel wanted to ask whether it was mandatory for Sea Wolves to howl so frighteningly, but he thought the better of it. They had to hurry; night was falling, and the shore was getting dark.

The friends split up each their own ways, expecting to find some spring or stream running into the ocean. Mike and Camel moved in silence, stepping around the boulders and avoiding the deep holes on the shore.

“My impression is that the topography⁷⁴ of the area…” Camel began, but he didn’t manage to finish the sentence. They heard a blood-curdling, wild howl from behind them on the beach.

Mike felt goose bumps break out all over his body, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet.

“What’s that? Who’s that?” he stammered.

But Dreamer didn’t even wince. He turned his head in the direction of the howl, sniffed the air and said:

“The noise appears to be coming from our most honourable captain. I believe that he is in need of help.”

“Let’s go!” Mike cried, and started running as fast as they could, stumbling and scraping feet and hooves on the rocks.

The howling stopped; it turned into a kind of deep-throated rumble.

“Maybe wild animals attacked Wolf?” Mike said, gasping.

“High-highly unlikely,” Camel managed to get out on the run, “He’s qu-quite inedible.”

They stopped. The howl came from somewhere below, as if it were underground.

“Be careful, my young friend!” Camel said, catching his breath, “it might be some kind of trap!”

He began carefully sniffing the rocks on the shore. Finally, Dreamer stopped.

“Come over here, my young friend,” Camel called to Mike, “mind that you step carefully!”

Mike could see a deep black crevice between the rocks. Hoarse bawling and curses were coming from it.

“It would appear that our captain has fallen into a wolf trap!” Camel stated. “Do you have a torch or matches?”

Mike regretted leaving his torch on the ship. But he had matches, of course, and he had wrapped them twice in a waterproof wrapper to boot.

Mike pulled out the box, crawled up on his stomach to the crevice and lit a match. He saw a narrow hole with sheer walls, and something pacing around and swearing down at the bottom.

“Wolf, Wolf!” Mike called into the darkness of the hole. “Are you alive?”

The grumbling stopped, but then Mike heard the saltiest expressions he’d ever heard from the captain.

“An albatross round me neck and thrash me with a thieves cat⁷⁵ if I ever go ashore again without a light!”

“Are you okay, Wolf? Mike asked. “Where are you hurt?”

“Right in me pride!” the captain howled. “How can an old Sea Wolf like me fall in this blasted HOLE?”

“Pride is hardly the most serious trauma under such circumstances!” Camel observed. “What’s more, a Sea Wolf is not necessarily well-versed in terrestrial ways.”

The response from the crevice was a more mournful “oooh”.

“Don’t cry, Wolf,” Mike said, “we’ll get you out of there right now!”

“The task at hand is clearly defined,” Camel said, “all that remains is to effectuate its completion. And that is never a simple affair.”

“Dreamer,” Mike begged, “you’re smart! Figure out how we can get Wolf out of the hole!”

“I have been considering this problem for a minute and a half, but all this hue and cry is impeding my thought processes.”

“We’ll keep quiet,” Mike promised, although vouching for Wolf was a somewhat unreliable promise to make under the circumstances.

“We need rope,” Camel said profoundly, “but it’s on the ship. To make the circuit there and back in total darkness is risky. I propose that we make a fire and wait until morning.”

“But what about Wolf?” Mike asked. “Do you mean that he’ll be sitting in that hole all night?”

“That is hardly the most fearful prospect in life, my young friend!” Dreamer said. “In any case, the operation for his extraction should take place in daylight.”

Camel lowered his nose to the ground, sniffed around the area, disappeared and a little while later appeared with a big piece of rotten bark in his teeth. Then he disappeared again and returned with a dried out bramble bush.

Mike pulled his Swiss Army knife from his pocket, cut some kindling, collected it in a pile and carefully lit it with a match. The flame took, and it lit up the shore. The smell of the camp fire filled the air, making things comfortable and pleasant. Camel broke up the rotten bark with his hooves. Mike laid the pieces around the fire so that they would dry out.

The ship’s boat, tied to the rocks, was visible in the light of the fire. Mike dug around in the box in the stern and found their Emergency Supplies there: three cans of potted meat and half a jerry can of water. Mike dragged the items over to the fire.

“I’m sorry, Dreamer,” Mike said, “there’s nothing for you to eat!”

“No matter,” Camel said, “I can go without food and water for over a month. A short fast would only do me good. Better to consider our captain and how to raise his fighting spirit.”

“What can we feed him with? Mike asked.

“You should open a can and throw the meat into the hole,” Camel said.

“But Wolf doesn’t eat meat, he’s a vegetarian,” Mike fretted.

“We shall test that right now,” Camel answered.

Mike went up to the crevice, where hoarse growling could be heard.

“Wolf, ah, how are you doing?” Mike inquired.

“Grrrr! Aah! Grrr!” came from below.

“You’re probably hungry, do you want to eat?” Mike asked.

“Aah! Yeees!” Came the voice from the hold.

“Will you eat meat?”

“Yeeeeesssss!” Wolf howled again.

Mike threw half a can of meat into the hole. A juicy “plop” was heard, followed by hearty munching.

“As I assumed,” Camel pronounced, “the rumours of lupine⁷⁶ vegetarian tendencies were somewhat exaggerated⁷⁷. As camel proverbial wisdom would have it, “No matter how much cabbage you feed a wolf, he still wants meat!”

“I don’t think we should tell Moosie about this,” Mike observed.

“I suppose not,” Dreamer agreed.

Chapter 9. Low Tide

The cold woke Mike up; the fire had gone out. A crimson dawn broke over the sea. Dreamer peacefully dreamed on, all four legs tucked up under himself. Mike snuggled against Camel’s warm side and tried to warm up. But he was still cold.

“Dreamer! Dreamer! Wake up!” Mike said, poking Camel in the side, “it’s time to get Wolf out!”

Camel smacked his lips and answered in a calm, peaceful voice, as if he wasn’t asleep at all.

“It is my impression that the weather favours our plans. Return to the ship for a longer rope. And I will check on our captain and inquire into his physical and mental well-being.”

Mike looked toward the sea and was dumbfounded. The sea had disappeared! Instead of the gulf, there stretched a field of dirt, mud and rocks sticking up. Seaweed glistened greenly in between them. Michael’s Ark sat lonely on the bottom, listing slightly to port. The anchor chains sagged limply, and the masts tilted dejectedly.

“Dreamer!” Mike cried. “The sea is gone!”

Camel turned his head back and forth, sniffed the air and thoughtfully pronounced: