Read Online Peter Pan in Scarlet by Geraldine McCaughrean - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Geraldine McCaughrean
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volcanic atolls, and islands not at all extinct whose volcanoes smoked and rumbled and tossed lumps of molten rock far out to sea. There were islands shaped like turtles and others shaped simply like islands but teeming with turtles. All these Peter found marked on the charts, as well as lighthouses and headlands, whirlpools and estuaries. In the shaded areas labelled ‘ Fishing Grounds ’ a magnet swung over the side would bring in a can of sprats or a tin of sardines. There were wrecks, and drowned villages whose church bells rang when the sea was rough …
It vexed Peter that the islands that passed by the casement windows of his cabin looked nothing like the ones on the charts. Stupidly the chart-makers had drawn everything as if they were looking down on it from above: all very well if you are travelling by hot-air balloon but confusing to a ship’s captain. They ought to have shown what each island looked like from the side, through a brass telescope.
He knew there would be other things in store, of course—things not marked on charts—tide rips, whales, and waterspouts—life-threatening dangers. But that was all right. Exploration should be the province of heroes. Peter fingered the white tie around his throat and closed his eyes, which were sore from map-reading. Spots of colour expanded inside his lids, into strange views and vistas: wide green lawns, rowers on a sunlit river, a cream-coloured building like a palace, with tall, narrow stained-glass windows … There were no such places in Neverland—none that he had ever seen, at least. Wonderful, then, that there were these pictures in his head!
‘ Sail ho! ’
Peter flung down his quill pen and red ink splattered the Sea of a Thousand Islands. He ran up on deck.
‘ Sail ho! ’ called Curly again from the crow’s nest.
‘Hardly sails , dear,’ said Slightly. ‘It’s a steamer.’
Through Hook’s brass telescope Peter sighted a steam-cutter as steel-grey as a knight in armour. Caked in rust like dried blood, it chugged and throbbed and clanked towards them under an awning of dirty smoke from its black smokestack. A jawful of teeth had been painted on to its bow so that it appeared to chew its way through the water. Wendy signalled it with semaphore:
‘F-R-I-E-N-D O-R F-O-E?’
The Boys watched with admiration Wendy’s outstretched arms moving round like the hands of a clock. Unfortunately the crew of the steamship could none of them read semaphore. They came on, full speed ahead. It was not much of a full-speed, but since the SS Shark was on course to ram the Jolly Peter amidships, there was no time to lose. No time to load the cannon with gunpowder (or flour). No time to search the ship for muskets.
‘ Jibe to port! ’ shouted Peter.
The crew blinked at him. They were very impressed, but they had no idea what it meant: Peter must have found a book of sea-going phrases in Hook’s sea chest.
‘ Steer that way, you lubbers! ’ he yelled.
John spun the ship’s wheel. The Jolly Peter heeled over. The ship’s bell clanged. Sails flapped and billowed. Ropes twanged taut. The puppy slid clear across the deck. The prow of the Jolly Peter swung round until she was pointing almost the same way as the Shark . Instead of being sliced in two by sheet steel, perhaps they could dodge out of her path or outrun her.
It was a vain hope. The sails emptied of wind; the Jolly Peter wallowed and rolled. On and on came the SS Shark , so close now that the children could see the pirate flag at the masthead and the crew getting ready to board. They made an unnerving sight, because these pirates, though no more than waist high, were wearing full warpaint and were armed with hatchets, bows and arrows, and bowie knives.
‘Starkey’s Redskins!’ said Peter under his breath.
The steel bow with its painted arc of teeth did not slice open the hull of the Jolly Peter . It struck her in the aft quarter, shattering the casement windows of Peter’s stateroom
It vexed Peter that the islands that passed by the casement windows of his cabin looked nothing like the ones on the charts. Stupidly the chart-makers had drawn everything as if they were looking down on it from above: all very well if you are travelling by hot-air balloon but confusing to a ship’s captain. They ought to have shown what each island looked like from the side, through a brass telescope.
He knew there would be other things in store, of course—things not marked on charts—tide rips, whales, and waterspouts—life-threatening dangers. But that was all right. Exploration should be the province of heroes. Peter fingered the white tie around his throat and closed his eyes, which were sore from map-reading. Spots of colour expanded inside his lids, into strange views and vistas: wide green lawns, rowers on a sunlit river, a cream-coloured building like a palace, with tall, narrow stained-glass windows … There were no such places in Neverland—none that he had ever seen, at least. Wonderful, then, that there were these pictures in his head!
‘ Sail ho! ’
Peter flung down his quill pen and red ink splattered the Sea of a Thousand Islands. He ran up on deck.
‘ Sail ho! ’ called Curly again from the crow’s nest.
‘Hardly sails , dear,’ said Slightly. ‘It’s a steamer.’
Through Hook’s brass telescope Peter sighted a steam-cutter as steel-grey as a knight in armour. Caked in rust like dried blood, it chugged and throbbed and clanked towards them under an awning of dirty smoke from its black smokestack. A jawful of teeth had been painted on to its bow so that it appeared to chew its way through the water. Wendy signalled it with semaphore:
‘F-R-I-E-N-D O-R F-O-E?’
The Boys watched with admiration Wendy’s outstretched arms moving round like the hands of a clock. Unfortunately the crew of the steamship could none of them read semaphore. They came on, full speed ahead. It was not much of a full-speed, but since the SS Shark was on course to ram the Jolly Peter amidships, there was no time to lose. No time to load the cannon with gunpowder (or flour). No time to search the ship for muskets.
‘ Jibe to port! ’ shouted Peter.
The crew blinked at him. They were very impressed, but they had no idea what it meant: Peter must have found a book of sea-going phrases in Hook’s sea chest.
‘ Steer that way, you lubbers! ’ he yelled.
John spun the ship’s wheel. The Jolly Peter heeled over. The ship’s bell clanged. Sails flapped and billowed. Ropes twanged taut. The puppy slid clear across the deck. The prow of the Jolly Peter swung round until she was pointing almost the same way as the Shark . Instead of being sliced in two by sheet steel, perhaps they could dodge out of her path or outrun her.
It was a vain hope. The sails emptied of wind; the Jolly Peter wallowed and rolled. On and on came the SS Shark , so close now that the children could see the pirate flag at the masthead and the crew getting ready to board. They made an unnerving sight, because these pirates, though no more than waist high, were wearing full warpaint and were armed with hatchets, bows and arrows, and bowie knives.
‘Starkey’s Redskins!’ said Peter under his breath.
The steel bow with its painted arc of teeth did not slice open the hull of the Jolly Peter . It struck her in the aft quarter, shattering the casement windows of Peter’s stateroom
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