“I’ve got part of it,” he called. “The shipwright’s fife refers to a boatswain’s whistle,” Andy said excitedly. “It’s a funny-looking brass whistle that’s usually worn on a chain around the carpenter’s neck.”
“Good job, Andy!” called Abigail. The others gave a weak cheer.
“That means that this creature—what did you call it?” Andy asked.
“Dingonek,” Rusty called.
“The Dingonek must be sensitive to its sound. It says in the poem that it obeys the shipwright’s fife. Maybe the person who discovered that escaped, but hid this note for the next person imprisoned here to find.”
“But where is it? Is there any boatswain’s whistle hidden in your cell?” called Dotty.
“I don’t think so,” Andy said. He glanced over the poem again. “It says, Barnacle Billy took it below; he’s in the Rog Guffaw.”
“Could it mean that whoever Barnacle Billy is, he’s buried beneath one of the cells?” Abigail asked.
Andy shook his head. “I have a feeling that below refers to the water.” He glanced uneasily at the deep channel of water that flowed down the chamber outside his cell.
“Okay, but if that’s the case, then what’s the Rog Guffaw? It sounds like a location,” said Betty.
“Maybe,” said Andy. “Let me think some more.”
Rog Guffaw, Rog Guffaw. Andy couldn’t remember hearing that name in any story about ships. What could a Rog Guffaw be? And how could someone be in it?
He gazed at the poem and tried separating the words. Rog. It could sound like log. Or maybe it was short for something. Reg could be short for regius and was also an abbreviation for the name Reggie. What if Rog didn’t sound like log, but Raj, like short for…?
“Roger,” Andy whispered. “Okay, now if Rog is short for Roger, how could Billy be in the Roger Guffaw? Unless…”
Andy brightened. Of course! It was so simple! Guffaw was another word for laughter. But in pirate speak, Rog Guffaw could mean…
“Jolly Roger!” Andy exclaimed. “Barnacle Billy must have died and been wrapped in a pirate flag, commonly called the Jolly Roger. And since they couldn’t bury him at sea like pirates usually do, they must have dumped him in…”
Andy’s voice trailed off as he gazed at the horrible trench. Somewhere down at the bottom of the trench was the ship’s carpenter, the boatswain called Barnacle Billy. The pirate who had left the note wouldn’t have wanted to risk his captors finding the boatswain’s whistle after he escaped. So he’d hidden it on Billy’s bones under the water.
Andy gulped. The rest of the poem was easy now.
So if ye dare to take a swim,
beware the creature’s maw.
Andy knew maw referred to the jaws or throat of a voracious animal. Now everything was clear. He knew what he had to do.
“Looks like I’m going for a swim!”
Andy stood, shivering, at the edge of his cell. He’d stripped down to his skivvies so that his clothes would stay dry.
“Andy, be careful! Are you sure you want to do this? What if the note isn’t true?” Abigail asked.
Andy called back, “It’s the only chance we’ve got.”
Suddenly, a noise that sounded like booted feet echoed on the ceiling above them.
“It’s the guards,” Betty and Dotty said in unison.
Andy knew there was no time to waste. “I’m going in,” he said. “If I don’t make it back, please do everything you can to rescue my grandfather.”
“Andy, wait!” Abigail shouted.
But Andy ignored her. After taking a couple of steadying breaths, he leapt from the cell and ran as fast as he could to the deep trench in the center of the hall. As he ran, he heard the sound of a heavy door scraping open from somewhere and a huge splash.
Don’t think about it!
Andy hit the water. When it came to athletics, he wasn’t all that gifted. He wasn’t a particularly strong swimmer, but he knew he could hold his own.
Andy kicked his feet like his life depended on it—which it probably did. He had no idea where the Dingonek was, and he cringed at the thought of its powerful jaws closing on his feet. The water in the trench was murky, but he could make out shapes beneath the surface. He dove deeper, hoping beyond hope that he’d deciphered the note correctly.
His lungs were screaming for air when he spotted what he was looking for—a black flag wrapped around a bulky form. He could see the hint of a skull and crossbones along one side.
Barnacle Billy!
Andy kicked hard to the surface and grabbed a quick breath before diving back down again. Fearful that the Dingonek’s sharp teeth might pierce his legs at any minute, he tore away the rotted fabric that covered the bones and searched desperately around the skeleton’s neck for the chain a boatswain usually hung his whistle upon. There was nothing there! Then, just as he was about to give up hope, he felt the tiny links of a chain stuck between two of the neck vertebrae of the skeleton.
Andy gave a mighty tug. The chain was stuck! If he couldn’t get it soon, he would be out of air!
A shadow passed over the skeleton. Andy looked up and saw that a gigantic pair of eyes were suddenly even with his. The Dingonek was a monster unlike anything Andy had ever seen before. Its face reminded him vaguely of an anglerfish, with horrible pale eyes and long saberlike teeth that stuck out from its lower jaw. But the resemblance stopped there. On its head stood a large pointed horn, and its tail was barbed like that of a scorpion!
The sight filled Andy with such horror that, without even thinking, he jerked back on the chain he was holding. The skeleton’s bones cracked and the whistle came free.
The Dingonek lunged, its mouth open wide like a great white shark’s. Andy, driven by adrenaline and fear, ducked under the creature at the last possible second. He barely managed to avoid the stinger tail as he swam beneath its belly.
He was screaming bloody murder
