reviled by Captain Llewellyn and his men. To cap it all, the person who cheated me challenged me to a duel. I could find no person on board willing to act as my second, and Llewellyn forbade this matter of honour to be pursued until we reached port.'
'Go on, please.' Cumbrae's suspicions were beginning to evaporate as he realized where the conversation was heading.
'I would be most grateful and honoured if you could consent to act as my second in this affair, my lord.'
'That is all you require of me?' He could hardly credit that it would be so easy. Already he could see the profits that might be reaped from this affair. He had promised Llewellyn his five hundred pounds, and he would give it to him, but only when he was certain that he would be able to get the money back from him, together with any other profit that he could lay hands upon.
He glanced out over the waters of the lagoon. There lay the Golden Bough, a powerful, warlike vessel. If he were able to add her to his flotilla, he would command a force in the oriental oceans that few could match. If he appeared off the Great Horn of Africa with these two vessels, in the midst of the war that Schreuder had assured him was raging, what spoils might there be for the picking?
'It will be my honour and my pleasure to act for you,' he told Schreuder. 'Give me the name of the Bastard who has challenged you, and I will see to it that you obtain immediate satisfaction from him.'
When Llewellyn came ashore again for dinner, he was accompanied by two of his officers and a dozen of his seamen, carrying cutlass and pistols. Cumbrae was on the beach to welcome him. 'I have the purse I promised you, my dear Christopher. Come with me to my poor lodgings and take a dram with me for loving friendship and for the memory of convivial days we passed in former times in each other's company. But first will ye no' introduce me to these two fine gentlemen of yours?'
'Mister Arnold Fowler, first mate of my ship. 'The two men nodded at each other. 'And this is my third officer, Vincent Winterton, son of my patron, Viscount Winterton.'
'Also, so I am informed, a paragon at Hazard, and a mean hand with the dice.' Cumbrae grinned at Vincent and the young man withdrew the hand he was on the point of proffering.
'I beg your pardon, sir, but what do you mean by that remark? 'Vincent enquired stiffly.
'Only that Colonel Schreuder has asked me to act for him. Would you be good enough to inform me as to who is your own second?'
Llewellyn cut in quickly, 'I have the honour to act for Mister Winterton.'
'Indeed, then, we have much to discuss, my dear Christopher. Please follow me, but as it is Mister Winterton's affairs we will be discussing, it might be as well if he remained here on the beach.'
Llewellyn followed the Buzzard to his hut, and took the stool that he was offered. 'A dram of the water of life?' Llewellyn shook his head. 'Thank you, no. Let us come to the matters at hand.'
'You were always impatient and headstrong.' The Buzzard filled his own mug and took a mouthful. He smacked his lips and wiped his whiskers on the back of his hand. 'You'll never know what you're missing. 'Tis the finest whisky in all the islands. But, here, this is for you.' He slid the heavy purse across the keg that served him for a table. Llewellyn picked it up and weighed it thoughtfully in his hand.
'Count it if you will,' the Buzzard invited him. 'I'll take no offence.' He sat back and watched with a grin on his face, sipping at his mug, while Llewellyn arranged the golden coins in neat stacks on the top of the keg.
'Five hundred it is, and fifty for the interest. I am obliged to you, sir.' Llewellyn's expression had softened.
'It's a small price to pay for your love and friendship, Christopher,' Cumbrae told him. 'But now to this other matter. As I told you, I act for Colonel Schreuder.'
'And I act for Mister Winterton.' Llewellyn nodded. 'My principal will be satisfied with an apology from Schreuder.' 'You know full well, Christopher, that my lad will no' give him one. I am afraid that the two young puppies will have to fight it out.'
'The choice of weapons lies with your side,' said Llewellyn. 'Shall we say pistols at twenty paces?'
'We will say no such thing. My man wants swords.' 'Then we must agree. What time and place will suit you?'
'I leave that decision to you.'
'I have repairs to make to my rigging and hull. Damage we sustained in the gale. I need Mister Winterton on board to help with these. May I suggest three days hence, on the beach at sunrise?'
The Buzzard tugged at his beard as he considered this proposal. He would need a few days to make the arrangements he had in mind. Three days' delay would suit him perfectly.
'Agreed!' he said, and Llewellyn rose to his feet immediately and placed the purse in the pocket of his tunic.
'Will you not take that dram I offered you now, Christopher?' Cumbrae suggested, but again Llewellyn declined.
'As I told you, sit, I have much to do on board my ship.' The Buzzard watched him go down to the beach and step into his longboat. As they were rowed back to where the Golden Bough was anchored, Llewellyn and Winterton were in deep and earnest conversation.
'Young Winterton is in for a surprise. He can never have seen the Dutchman with a sword in his hand to have agreed so lightly to the choice of weapons.' He swigged back the few drops of whisky that remained in his mug, and grinned again. 'We shall see if we cannot arrange a little surprise for Christopher Llewellyn also.' He banged the mug onto the keg top, and bellowed, 'Send Mister Bowles to me, and be quick about it.'
Sam Bowles came smarming in, wriggling his whole body like a whipped dog to ingratiate himself with his captain. But his eyes were cold and shrewd.
'Sammy, me boy.' Cumbrae gave him a slap on the arm that stung like a wasp, but did not upset the smile on the man's lips. 'I have something for you, that should be much to your taste. Listen well.'
Sam Bowles sat opposite him and cocked his head so as not to miss a word of his instructions. Once or twice he asked a question or chortled with glee and admiration as Cumbrae unfolded his plans.
'You have always wanted the command of your own ship, Sammy me laddy. This is your chance. Serve me well, and you shall have it. Captain Samuel Bowles. How does that sound to you?'
'I like the sound of it powerful well, your grace!' Sam Bowles bobbed his head. 'And I'll not let you down.'
'That you won't!' Cumbrae agreed. 'Or not more than once, you won't. For if you do, you'll dance me a merry hornpipe while you dangle from the main yard of my Gull.'
The riverbanks were lined with wild willow and dark green acacia trees, which were covered with a mantle of yellow blossom. The river ran broad and deep, slow and green between its rocky piers. The sandbanks were exposed and, as they looked down upon them from the steep slopes of the valley, Sukeena shuddered and whispered, 'Oh, what foul and ugly creatures! Surely these are the very dragons we spoke of?'
'They are dragons indeed,' Hal agreed, as they gazed down on the crocodiles that lay sunning on the white beach. There were dozens of them, some not much larger than lizards and other brutes with the beam and length of a ship's boat, massive grey monsters, which surely could swallow a man whole. They had found out how ferocious these creatures were on their first attempt to ford the river, when Billy Rogers had been seized by one and dragged beneath the surface. They had not recovered any part of his body.
'I tremble at the thought of trying to cross again, with these creatures still guarding the river,' Sukeena whispered tremulously.
'Aboli knows them from his own land to the north, and his tribe have a way of dealing with them.'
On the -rocky bluff, high above the river where the crocodiles could not reach, they stacked the piles of eland meat, which were already beginning to stink, in the hot sunlight. Then Hal sent some of the men to search the forest floor for dried logs that would float high in the water. Under Ned Tyler's instruction they shaped them with the cutlasses, although Hal hated to see the fine steel edges dulled and chipped. While this was being done Althuda, with Sukeena helping him, carefully slit the wet eland hides into long tough ropes as thick as her little finger.
Aboli sought out the species of tree he needed, and then chopped short supple stakes from its branches and carried bundles of these back to where the others were working. Big Daniel helped him to sharpen both ends of these short, resilient pieces of green wood into spear points, and harden them in the fire. Then, using a log of the correct circumference as a template, the two powerful men bent each stake around the log until it formed a circle, the sharpened points overlapping. While they held them in place, Hal lashed the ends together with strips of the raw eland hide. When they gingerly released the tension the coiled stakes were like the loaded steel springs of a musket lock, ready to fly open if the retaining strip of hide was severed. By sundown they had finished work on a pile of these snares.
They had learned from their encounter with the lion pride, and on this night they hoisted the legs of eland meat high into the top branches of one of the tallest trees that grew along the banks of the broad river. They built their stockade well downstream from this cache of meat, and made certain that the walls were of sturdy logs, and that the entrance was blocked with freshly cut thorn
