Read Online Peter Pan in Scarlet by Geraldine McCaughrean - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Geraldine McCaughrean
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and jolting the ship from stem to stern. Powerless to resist, the big brig was pushed through the water ahead of the steam-cutter like a pram being pushed along by a nursemaid. The captain of the steam-cutter was carried for’ard from the bridge, borne aloft on a swivelling leather captain’s chair carried by four child warriors. It was none other than Starkey: first mate to Captain Jas. Hook in the long-lost days before Pan’s great victory over Hook and his scurvy crew!
‘Now what do you say, boys?’ Starkey asked, his triumphant features creasing up like old leather. ‘Introduce yourselves to the nice people.’
They were not all boys, by any means. Half were girls, with long silken hair and cleaner buckskin tunics. But they were all armed. Drawing back their bowstrings to full stretch, they bowed (or curtsied), blinked their large dark eyes at the crew of the Jolly Peter and shouted, ‘Hello. Thank you very much. How do you do. Delighted I’m sure. Kindly shed your loot in our direction then lie face down on the deck or, sadly, we will have to slit your gizzards and feed you to the fishes. Deep regrets. Please do not ask for mercy as refusal can give offence. Thank you very much. Nice weather we are having.’
Captain Starkey nodded approvingly and spun round once in his chair. ‘Very good, buckos, but you forgot about the scalping. You must always mention the scalping.’ Suddenly he seemed to recognize the ship for what it was. Then his eye fell on Peter—or rather Peter’s coat—and a lifetime’s sunburn could not hide how his face drained of colour.
Meanwhile, the steamship shoved the Jolly Peter through the water like a wheelbarrow. They could see now that the name daubed on to the prow of the steam cutter was not ‘SS Shark ’ at all, but ‘SS Starkey ’. The wooden hull creaked and groaned. Cannonballs fell from their monkey-racks and rolled down the deck, making both crew and Puppy jump out of their way. Peter’s cheeks burned with humiliation.
‘Call yourself a captain now, do you, Starkey!’ he jeered. ‘You were never more than a mop for swabbing Jas. Hook’s decks!’ One or two of the Explorers had got down on their faces. Now they stood up again, as Peter laughed in the face of his attacker. ‘I heard you were captured by the Redskins, Starkey! After we routed you in the Great Battle? I heard you were put to looking after their papooses ! Terrible fate for a man who calls himself a pirate!’ Peter loaded the words with contempt, as he would have loaded a musket.
Captain Starkey spun round twice in his chair. The colour was back in his cheeks. ‘Swipe me naked! If it ain’t the cock-a-doodle! For a moment I thunk it was … Well, ain’t revenge sweet, eh? Terrible fate? Yeah! Fate worse than death, I thunk at the time. Forced to look after a bunch of babbies and sprogs? A shame and come-down for a man of my calling! But I made the best of it, see? Turned it to my advantage. See what a job I done on ’em, my little squaws an’ braves? You won’t find better manners in the King of England’s parlour. An’ I trained them up in a trade, too, which is more’n you can say for most schoolmasters. Learned ’em everything I knowed. Turned ’em into pirates, every Jack-and-Jill of ’em. Got some real talent in there, I can tell you! Pride of me heart, these little throat-slitters are! Pride of me heart. What’s your cargo, cock-a-doodle? Cos it’s mine now!’
When Peter refused to answer, Starkey ordered a dozen of his little throat-slitters to board the Jolly Peter and hunt for loot. ‘And bring me my old kitbag from the fo’c’sle!’ he told them. ‘The one with me name writ big on it.’ When the League bravely drew out their wooden swords to defend the ship, Starkey laughed so much that he nearly toppled out of his chair. ‘What? Wouldn’t your mummies let you play with real blades?’ Even Peter, who always carried a real dagger in his belt, could not defy the
‘Now what do you say, boys?’ Starkey asked, his triumphant features creasing up like old leather. ‘Introduce yourselves to the nice people.’
They were not all boys, by any means. Half were girls, with long silken hair and cleaner buckskin tunics. But they were all armed. Drawing back their bowstrings to full stretch, they bowed (or curtsied), blinked their large dark eyes at the crew of the Jolly Peter and shouted, ‘Hello. Thank you very much. How do you do. Delighted I’m sure. Kindly shed your loot in our direction then lie face down on the deck or, sadly, we will have to slit your gizzards and feed you to the fishes. Deep regrets. Please do not ask for mercy as refusal can give offence. Thank you very much. Nice weather we are having.’
Captain Starkey nodded approvingly and spun round once in his chair. ‘Very good, buckos, but you forgot about the scalping. You must always mention the scalping.’ Suddenly he seemed to recognize the ship for what it was. Then his eye fell on Peter—or rather Peter’s coat—and a lifetime’s sunburn could not hide how his face drained of colour.
Meanwhile, the steamship shoved the Jolly Peter through the water like a wheelbarrow. They could see now that the name daubed on to the prow of the steam cutter was not ‘SS Shark ’ at all, but ‘SS Starkey ’. The wooden hull creaked and groaned. Cannonballs fell from their monkey-racks and rolled down the deck, making both crew and Puppy jump out of their way. Peter’s cheeks burned with humiliation.
‘Call yourself a captain now, do you, Starkey!’ he jeered. ‘You were never more than a mop for swabbing Jas. Hook’s decks!’ One or two of the Explorers had got down on their faces. Now they stood up again, as Peter laughed in the face of his attacker. ‘I heard you were captured by the Redskins, Starkey! After we routed you in the Great Battle? I heard you were put to looking after their papooses ! Terrible fate for a man who calls himself a pirate!’ Peter loaded the words with contempt, as he would have loaded a musket.
Captain Starkey spun round twice in his chair. The colour was back in his cheeks. ‘Swipe me naked! If it ain’t the cock-a-doodle! For a moment I thunk it was … Well, ain’t revenge sweet, eh? Terrible fate? Yeah! Fate worse than death, I thunk at the time. Forced to look after a bunch of babbies and sprogs? A shame and come-down for a man of my calling! But I made the best of it, see? Turned it to my advantage. See what a job I done on ’em, my little squaws an’ braves? You won’t find better manners in the King of England’s parlour. An’ I trained them up in a trade, too, which is more’n you can say for most schoolmasters. Learned ’em everything I knowed. Turned ’em into pirates, every Jack-and-Jill of ’em. Got some real talent in there, I can tell you! Pride of me heart, these little throat-slitters are! Pride of me heart. What’s your cargo, cock-a-doodle? Cos it’s mine now!’
When Peter refused to answer, Starkey ordered a dozen of his little throat-slitters to board the Jolly Peter and hunt for loot. ‘And bring me my old kitbag from the fo’c’sle!’ he told them. ‘The one with me name writ big on it.’ When the League bravely drew out their wooden swords to defend the ship, Starkey laughed so much that he nearly toppled out of his chair. ‘What? Wouldn’t your mummies let you play with real blades?’ Even Peter, who always carried a real dagger in his belt, could not defy the
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