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Authors: Terry Pratchett
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They cast off, the coxswain negotiating the craft into the main channel of the river. Sir Harry changed his hat for a nautical peaked cap emblazoned with the word ‘captain’ and a small embroidered anchor. He took the large seat in the centre, all the while looking around to see who and what was floating in his vicinity. There was a bell beside him so he could attract the coxswain’s attention to give him instructions, via a speaking tube, as to any change of course.
Geoffrey had never travelled in a boat before and to be there with Sir Harry was his best adventure yet. There was a lot to see: the river was very busy with barges and small ferries and water taxis. He reached over and made to dangle his fingers in the brown sludge.
‘I’d keep your hands out of the water if I were you,’ warned Sir Harry. ‘Are you enjoying youself?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Geoffrey. ‘At home I don’t get to see anything like this.’
‘So what do you do to amuse yourself?’ asked Sir Harry.
‘Well, I’ve got lots of toys. I like playing with my soldiers and Papa bought me a Captain Carrot last Hogswatch, though I really wanted the Omnian Quisition game.’
‘When I was a lad we had to make our own amusement,’ said Harry. ‘On rainy days if we couldn’t play foot-the-ball and if we were lucky, and in the right place at the right time, we might spot a brace of floaters coming down in the gutters. Oh, we used to have some fun wagering which one would hit the grating first. Like men-o’-war they were, a convoy of pure delight for us kids. We called it poo sticks.’
As they approached the Ankh Bridge the coxswain shouted, ‘Umbers up, lads.’ The oarsmen, who could not see where they were going, but only where other people had been, without breaking their rhythm pulled up a large tarpaulin canopy over their heads.
‘Folks think it’s funny to take a potty shot at me and my boat,’ said Sir Harry. ‘They didn’t laugh so much the day I took a marksman with a crossbow along for the ride. There’s still a few fools that can’t sit comfortably for trying it on with Harry King.’
He saw the expression on Geoffrey’s face and said, ‘Don’t worry, it was only rock salt. They’ll get better when it works off.’
They continued downriver, where on either side there were tall warehouses and queues of barges waiting to be unloaded. Large sailing ships were anchored by the wharves, and lighters and other small craft darted to and fro on the scummy, barely moving water. Occasionally, a warning shout of ‘Watch out below’ was to be heard as the stevedores scurried over a ship like ants. Suddenly Sir Harry leapt to his feet. ‘By Offler’s tooth, lad, we’ve got a couple,’ he cried, pointing out a pair of floaters. ‘Look, there, I’ll bet you a dollar to a penny that the one nearer the bank will hit that wall first.’
With a practised eye they both studied the movement of their movements in the current.
‘Ah, well, I reckon that one’s yours, lad; I’ll settle up with you later. And thank you very much for letting an old man revisit his boyhood for a while.’
As they rowed through the ancient portal of the River Gate, Sir Harry was hailed by a group of watchmen who were huddled smoking in the lee of one of the old battlements. ‘Any chance of an extra pick-up, Sir Harry?’ one of them shouted. ‘Trap four is full and some of the lads had a Klatchian last night.’
‘What? I’m the bloody boss, ain’t I,’ said Harry, angrily. ‘There’s one of my lighters along in about fifteen minutes, they’ll help you out.’
Outside the city walls the view changed to ramshackle sheds and old farmhouses, reedy swamps and a tow-path. ‘Not far now,’ said Sir Harry. ‘You can just see the top of my biggest heap, over there.’
Geoffrey looked afresh at what he’d taken to be a small hill in the distance. As they drew nearer he could see smoke rising, and the general miasma of smells grew
They cast off, the coxswain negotiating the craft into the main channel of the river. Sir Harry changed his hat for a nautical peaked cap emblazoned with the word ‘captain’ and a small embroidered anchor. He took the large seat in the centre, all the while looking around to see who and what was floating in his vicinity. There was a bell beside him so he could attract the coxswain’s attention to give him instructions, via a speaking tube, as to any change of course.
Geoffrey had never travelled in a boat before and to be there with Sir Harry was his best adventure yet. There was a lot to see: the river was very busy with barges and small ferries and water taxis. He reached over and made to dangle his fingers in the brown sludge.
‘I’d keep your hands out of the water if I were you,’ warned Sir Harry. ‘Are you enjoying youself?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Geoffrey. ‘At home I don’t get to see anything like this.’
‘So what do you do to amuse yourself?’ asked Sir Harry.
‘Well, I’ve got lots of toys. I like playing with my soldiers and Papa bought me a Captain Carrot last Hogswatch, though I really wanted the Omnian Quisition game.’
‘When I was a lad we had to make our own amusement,’ said Harry. ‘On rainy days if we couldn’t play foot-the-ball and if we were lucky, and in the right place at the right time, we might spot a brace of floaters coming down in the gutters. Oh, we used to have some fun wagering which one would hit the grating first. Like men-o’-war they were, a convoy of pure delight for us kids. We called it poo sticks.’
As they approached the Ankh Bridge the coxswain shouted, ‘Umbers up, lads.’ The oarsmen, who could not see where they were going, but only where other people had been, without breaking their rhythm pulled up a large tarpaulin canopy over their heads.
‘Folks think it’s funny to take a potty shot at me and my boat,’ said Sir Harry. ‘They didn’t laugh so much the day I took a marksman with a crossbow along for the ride. There’s still a few fools that can’t sit comfortably for trying it on with Harry King.’
He saw the expression on Geoffrey’s face and said, ‘Don’t worry, it was only rock salt. They’ll get better when it works off.’
They continued downriver, where on either side there were tall warehouses and queues of barges waiting to be unloaded. Large sailing ships were anchored by the wharves, and lighters and other small craft darted to and fro on the scummy, barely moving water. Occasionally, a warning shout of ‘Watch out below’ was to be heard as the stevedores scurried over a ship like ants. Suddenly Sir Harry leapt to his feet. ‘By Offler’s tooth, lad, we’ve got a couple,’ he cried, pointing out a pair of floaters. ‘Look, there, I’ll bet you a dollar to a penny that the one nearer the bank will hit that wall first.’
With a practised eye they both studied the movement of their movements in the current.
‘Ah, well, I reckon that one’s yours, lad; I’ll settle up with you later. And thank you very much for letting an old man revisit his boyhood for a while.’
As they rowed through the ancient portal of the River Gate, Sir Harry was hailed by a group of watchmen who were huddled smoking in the lee of one of the old battlements. ‘Any chance of an extra pick-up, Sir Harry?’ one of them shouted. ‘Trap four is full and some of the lads had a Klatchian last night.’
‘What? I’m the bloody boss, ain’t I,’ said Harry, angrily. ‘There’s one of my lighters along in about fifteen minutes, they’ll help you out.’
Outside the city walls the view changed to ramshackle sheds and old farmhouses, reedy swamps and a tow-path. ‘Not far now,’ said Sir Harry. ‘You can just see the top of my biggest heap, over there.’
Geoffrey looked afresh at what he’d taken to be a small hill in the distance. As they drew nearer he could see smoke rising, and the general miasma of smells grew
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