Pirate Boy of Sydney Town by Jackie French

Author:Jackie French
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-04-12T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Ben woke to a knock on the cabin door. Captain Danvers stood there, holding a candlestick.

‘Mr Huntsmore, sir, I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s almost dawn. Would you give permission for Master Huntsmore to climb to the top again? His sharp eyes may see a ship before any of the men.’

Ben’s father yawned and nodded. His eyes met Ben’s. Do what is necessary, his look said, but do not be familiar. Remember what I said.

Ben dressed quickly, envying the sailors who did not have to dress each morning or button up boots. He clambered up the companionway, following the candlelight. The last faint stars still shone above, with a faint haze beyond the shore where the sun would rise. The wind blew strong and cold, though in gusts now instead of the ceaseless roar.

He bent to unbutton his boots again. Stupid to have put them on for a one-minute scramble up to the deck, but he could imagine his father’s face if he’d seen his son go through the door barefoot. Ben’s heart beat faster than a horse could gallop. At least he was playing a part in this adventure, not simply hiding below.

He pushed off his socks and clambered up the shrouds, felt the wind tug at his shirt and tickle his ears with cold. Finally his fingers found the cross-edge of the top platform above the futtocks. He hoisted himself up and clung there, monkey-like. It was easier this morning than it had been perched above the vast seas of the Southern Ocean, but he still needed to cling tight, for the waves that dashed against the ship’s hull were sharp and unpredictable.

Grey washed across the dark horizon. The stars vanished. Colour seeped back into the world. Blue sky. Blue sea and wind-curled white caps. But no sails marred the thin line of the horizon.

He watched.

Men vanished down the hatch, emerging with pannikins of cold meat and potatoes. Of course, he thought, it might be hours before they had a chance to eat again. One of the sailors doled out mugs of lime juice laced with rum.

Ben could hear a strange grinding noise, almost kitchen-like, then recognised it. The sharpening of swords and knives on a grindstone.

He watched.

The wind blew.

A shark circled the Golden Girl in the clear blue water, and then another. Did the sharks sense there’d be blood in the water this afternoon, bodies to feast on? Or did they always prey here in such numbers, growing fat on the fish that bred near the river’s mouth?

He watched.

Surely the Dutch ship should have reached this far north by now. It must have gone further out to sea, as he’d thought last night, running with the wind swiftly, safely, to Batavia.

And yet . . .

He saw a cloud down south, and then the smallest speck of white.

‘Ship ahoy!’ he yelled.

The wind carried his words into the emptiness, but the men below had seen his gesture. Captain Danvers signalled to him to come down.

He moved carefully,

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