Battle for Cannibal Island Page 2

  Ambrose laughed as Nettleton tugged Patrick and Beth onward.

  “Why is he chained up?” Patrick asked.

  “He’s a convict. The ship is looking for a new place to put criminals. Today he be waitin’ to go to the brig,” Nettleton said. “Now, no more talk.”

  They stopped at a raised deck filled with men. Nettleton stopped at the edge of the crowd.

  Beth studied the men in front of her. Several wore red coats and tall black hats. All of them had rifles.

  The red-coated men were gathered around a tall man. Beth guessed he was the captain.

  The captain had a round belly and a short white beard. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. At least thirty shiny brass buttons were sewn to the front of his blue naval jacket. He wore a white ruffle around his neck. He looked like a cross between Santa Claus and George Washington.

  The captain was in an argument with another man. The thin man was dressed in a plain black suit and a white shirt. He didn’t look like a sailor or a soldier.

  “It’s too dangerous, Calvert,” the captain said to the man. “The cannibals are killing all the Christians. Not even missionaries are safe. If I put you ashore, you’ll die.”

  “It makes no difference,” the missionary called Calvert said. “I died a long time ago.”

  Beth was curious. Calvert looked tired and terribly thin. But what did he mean about dying a long time ago?

  Just then a sailor stepped forward. He took off his hat. “Captain Home,” he said, “we’ve prepared yer landin’ boat.”

  The captain pointed at the canoe raft headed toward the ship. “I don’t think we’ll be needing it,” he said. “The cannibals are coming to us.”

  Nettleton cleared his throat. A dozen pairs of eyes turned toward him. He removed his blue hat.

  Beth pulled off her knit cap. She grabbed Patrick’s hat off his head, too. Then she handed it to him.

  “By yer leave, Captain Home,” Nettleton said. “I just discovered these here stowaways. I brought ’em straight to ye.” He pushed the cousins forward.

  Beth staggered and then gave a half bow. Patrick stood stiff and stared ahead.

  “Stowaways!” the captain said with a boom in his voice. “And one a girl! How can it be?” The captain studied Patrick. “You’re not old enough to serve Her Majesty, are you?”

  “I’m almost ten,” Patrick said.

  Captain Home sighed. “You’re too young,” he said. “Her Majesty’s law forbids it.”

  Just then a blast of thunder echoed across the ocean. Beth looked at the sky. Storm clouds were gathering on the horizon.

  “Cannibals, stowaways, and a storm. Can this day get any worse?” the captain asked. He reached into his jacket. He pulled out a ring with long, thin keys on it.

  “Nettleton, I’ll decide the stowaways’ fates later. First I must deal with the cannibals,” the captain said. He handed a ring of keys to Nettleton. “Throw them in the brig with the other prisoner.”

  “Aye, sir,” Nettleton said.

  Calvert suddenly stepped forward. He asked, “Captain, surely you don’t intend to put this girl in the brig with ruffians?”

  “I don’t have time to play nursemaid,” the captain said.

  “Then I will,” Calvert said. “Leave the girl in my care.”

  The captain thought for a moment, then nodded. He said, “Throw the boy in the brig with the convicts for now—”

  “No!” Beth shouted. She linked her arm to Patrick’s. “I want to stay with Patrick!”

  The captain glared at her. Then he roared, “Child! Do you defy me?”

  Calvert suddenly appeared at her side. He crouched down so he was eye-level with her.

  “Mind me, child,” Calvert said with a warm smile. “Be a good girl. Let Captain Home run his ship the way he thinks best.”

  He gently pulled Beth’s arm away from Patrick’s.

  Beth couldn’t take her eyes from Calvert. There was something about his tone and manner that reminded her of Mr. Whittaker. She wanted to trust him.

  Calvert was still crouching. He pivoted toward Patrick. “The faithful man will always find help in times of trouble,” Calvert said.

  Patrick looked puzzled. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Remember to say your prayers,” Calvert said. “You are never alone.”

  Nettleton led Patrick away. The missionary put a hand on Beth’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.

  5

  The Man in Irons

  Nettleton led Patrick across the deck toward the middle of the ship. This side of the deck was almost deserted now. The rest of the crew was watching the cannibals.

  Nettleton poked Patrick’s side with a pistol. “Keep movin’,” he said.

  Patrick tried to think of a way to escape. But he couldn’t. The knife in his pocket wouldn’t be any help against a pistol.

  “The captain said we’re going to the brig,” Patrick said. “Where’s that?”

  “Ambrose can tell ye all about it,” Nettleton said. “He knows the way well enough.”

  They moved in closer to the man chained to the deck.

  Patrick winced. Ambrose smelled of rotten cabbage. Patrick held his breath.

  “I didn’t mean no harm before, Peggy,” Ambrose said. “Just callin’ out one cripple to another. Me leg be a goner. The irons be too tight.”

  “But not tight enough to keep yer mouth shut,” Nettleton said. “Well, soon I won’t have to hear yer rude comments.”

  “Why be that?” Ambrose asked.

  Nettleton moved forward. He leaned over and spoke right in Ambrose’s face.

  “Captain wants ye locked in the belly of the ship, that be why,” Nettleton said with a grin. He shook the keys on the ring Captain Home had given him.

  Patrick didn’t like the words belly of the ship. The brig would be dark. Worse, the other convicts might smell as bad as Ambrose.

  “For once I agree with the captain,” Ambrose said. “Get me out of these irons. And hurry it up!”

  Nettleton had a difficult time kneeling because of his wooden leg. But he crouched low. He could reach the lock on the iron band around Ambrose’s ankles.

  Nettleton pointed his pistol at the prisoner. “No tricks,” he said.

  Suddenly a hatch nearby burst open. The head of a large bearded man popped up.

  The man looked around.

  Nettleton turned toward the sound. Suddenly Ambrose grabbed Nettleton’s arm to get the pistol. The two men struggled. The huge man was on deck now and came at them.

  Patrick didn’t know what to do. “Help!” he called to the huge man.

  “I’ll help, all right,” the large man said. He knocked Patrick aside and leaped on Nettleton.

  “Get him pinned, Bryan!” Ambrose called. “Be quick!”

  The one called Bryan put his hand over Nettleton’s mouth. Nettleton struggled but couldn’t call out.

  Patrick lay sprawled on the deck. The wind was knocked out of him. He watched as Bryan wrestled Nettleton onto his back.

  Patrick was confused. The one-legged man was gasping for breath. Bryan pinned Nettleton to the deck. The huge man’s foot firmly pressed into Nettleton’s chest.

  Bryan jerked the pistol from Nettleton’s hand. “Be still, or breathe yer last,” he said.

  Patrick stood up. The air came back to his lungs. He thought he should call out for the captain. But the big man aimed the pistol at him.

  “Not a word from ye, boy,” Bryan said. His face looked like a snarling bulldog.

  Patrick snapped his mouth shut. His eyes widened in fear at the pistol.

  “Bryan, get the keys!” Ambrose said in a harsh whisper.

  Bryan leaned down and snatched the keys from Nettleton. He gave them to Ambrose.

  Nettleton struggled, but Bryan pointed the pistol at him again. Nettleton stopped moving.

  Ambrose sorted through the keys. He gave a low growl. “Which one be the right key?” he asked Nettleton.


  Nettleton grunted at him.

  “Be quick, Ambrose,” Bryan said. “Our luck might run out, and Captain Home will send us to a deserted island.”

  “This be the one!” Ambrose said and shoved the key into the lock. He was free in an instant. He scowled and asked, “Now, what shall we do with Peggy and this boy?”

  6

  The Cannibal King

  On the other side of the ship, Captain Home and the crew had turned their attention to the cannibals. The canoe was near the ship now.

  Calvert kept his hand on Beth’s shoulder. He seemed to sense that she might run off if he let go.

  “You can see better through the firing hole next to that cannon,” he said to her. “It’s not often one gets to see cannibals.”

  Beth paused for a moment. It’s true, she thought. Patrick would have stayed to see this if he could.

  She moved over to a long black cannon. She scooted close to its firing hole. Then she poked her spyglass through to watch the approaching canoes.

  The canoes were filled with baskets and barrels. Beth also saw a couple of log drums. Most of the men were sitting and rowing. Only three men were standing.

  The man in the middle had the tallest, frizziest hair. He had the biggest necklace too. Beth thought the man must be their leader.

  The cannibal grinned and showed his white teeth. A shiver of fear went up Beth’s neck.

  Captain Home and Calvert waited by the ship’s railing.

  When the canoes got close, Beth stood up. She moved near the railing to watch and listen.

  The leader of the canoe raft called out in a strange language.

  Captain Home turned to Calvert. “Will you translate for me?” he asked.

  Calvert nodded. “The chief is called Toki,” he said. “He brings you a great tribute. He offers you the finest food and turtle shells his tribe has to offer.”

  The captain grunted. “What does Toki want in return?” he asked.

  “To come aboard the ship. He wants to talk to you as one leader to another,” Calvert said. “He also wants to send a message to Queen Victoria.”

  “What message?” Captain Home asked.

  Calvert called out to Toki in the strange language. Beth wondered how he knew it.

  Toki answered. Calvert listened, and then he translated. “He wants Queen Victoria to give him five thousand rifles.”

  Five thousand rifles? Beth wondered. How many people does this chief want to kill?

  Captain Home laughed. “Toki burned down a Christian village on his own island,” he said. “Does he really expect Her Majesty to give him weapons?”

  “Toki thinks of himself as a great king,” Calvert said. “How will you answer him?”

  The captain’s face flushed red with anger. “A king?” he said. “King of the devils maybe. He’s a disgrace to the human race.”

  Captain Home slammed a fist on the deck railing. “He’s the last cannibal king under Queen Victoria’s rule,” he said. “He will never come aboard my ship and defile it.”

  Calvert turned to Toki. Then Calvert paused and looked at the captain again. “Before I give your message, I will ask you once again. May I go with Toki back to his island on Fiji? I want to minister to the Christian Fijians whose huts have burned.”

  Captain Home frowned at Calvert. “I’ve already told you no,” he said in a stern voice. “I will not leave you on an island full of cannibals. Tomorrow I’ll return you to your village, to be with your family.”

  “So be it,” Calvert said with a sigh. He turned to Toki and then a strange thing happened. Calvert didn’t speak in the native language. Instead he called out in English.

  “Toki,” Calvert said, “the captain asks you to stop your war. And so do I. But the one true God asks you to stop killing. He asks that you love your enemies.”

  Toki answered in English. “I do not care what you or your captain or your God want,” he said. “Burning down the Christian village gave me great pleasure.”

  “The heathen speaks English?” Captain Home shouted at Calvert.

  The cannibal king waved a large black club at Calvert. “I hate the Christian people,” he shouted back. “I hate your God.”

  Beth gasped. She had never heard anyone say he hated God. Thunder rolled above them. Beth wondered if God might strike Toki dead with a lightning bolt.

  Calvert leaned heavily on the rail. “Beware, my friend,” he said to Toki. “The one true God will not be mocked.”

  At that moment, thunder crashed. Beth jumped, startled. She looked up at the storm clouds. They were tall and dark and moving toward the island. She wondered if the storm was a typhoon.

  King Toki sat down on a canoe bench. His men paddled to turn the canoe raft around.

  “I hope that’s the last I ever see of him,” Captain Home said to Calvert.

  Calvert sighed. “I hope to see him every day in heaven,” Calvert said. “God loves the cannibals, Captain. Even if you don’t.”

  The captain eyed Calvert. The captain said, “You are a strange and difficult man.”

  7

  Overboard

  Bryan waved the pistol at Patrick and Nettleton. “Both of ye! Move it!” Bryan shouted. “Ye get to be our hostages in case we be caught.”

  Ambrose was standing now, but his legs looked wobbly. “Get goin’, Peggy,” he said.

  Patrick offered Nettleton his hand. Nettleton grabbed it and pulled. At the same time, he pushed himself up with his good leg.

  “Thank ye, lad,” Nettleton whispered to Patrick. “Sorry for bunglin’ me job. I’ll see us out of this mess. Trust me.”

  “Shut yer fish face,” Ambrose said. “Bryan and me, we’ll do the talkin’.”

  Bryan and Ambrose led Patrick and Nettleton to the side of the ship. A landing boat hung about twenty feet over the water. It was attached to the ship with rope and pulleys.

  This must be the landing boat that the captain didn’t need, Patrick thought.

  “Be quick,” Bryan said to Ambrose. “The captain won’t be talkin’ to the cannibal king much longer.”

  “By the stars, this be our lucky day,” Ambrose said.

  Bryan poked Patrick’s ribs with the pistol. “Get to the boat,” Bryan said. “Move it.”

  A small platform jutted out from the side of the ship. Patrick climbed over the railing to reach the platform. Then he took a giant step.

  He stepped into the boat, and it quickly tilted. Patrick grabbed the side of the boat. Then he sat down to keep his balance.

  Patrick watched from the boat as Nettleton, Bryan, and Ambrose climbed onto the small platform.

  “Ye be next,” Ambrose told Nettleton.

  Nettleton stretched his good leg into the boat. Just then a blast of thunder shook the air.

  Ambrose and Bryan looked up at the approaching storm clouds.

  Nettleton took that moment to act. He grabbed a boat paddle and hit Bryan full force. Bryan dropped to his knees. The pistol fell from his hand.

  Nettleton swung the paddle again. He hit Ambrose in the gut. Ambrose doubled over, gasping for breath.

  Nettleton turned around. “Quick, Patrick!” he shouted. “Help me!”

  As Patrick stood up, Bryan shoved Nettleton. Nettleton fell into the boat.

  The boat swung wildly. Patrick lost his balance. He stumbled backward. The boat tipped over. Suddenly Patrick was falling.

  Patrick closed his eyes. He hit the water.

  Splash!

  8

  The Storm

  Beth watched the cannibals row away from the ship. The muscular men paddled the oars quickly. She wished Patrick could have seen Toki.

  On the deck, Captain Home clapped his hands. Beth turned her eyes toward the captain.

  “All right, men,” Captain Home said. “Time to batten down the hatches. We have a storm blowing in.”

  The sailors scrambled across the deck and up the rigging. Some rolled up the sails and tightened ropes. Others closed the ha
tches.

  Only Beth, Captain Home, and Calvert remained on the upper deck. Beth turned to the missionary and asked, “Mr. Calvert, why did you want to go with the cannibals? They seem so dangerous.”

  Calvert looked down at Beth and patted her head. “The cannibals are a dangerous tribe,” he said. “But I am a missionary. I must preach the gospel to them. I’ve shown them God’s love by teaching them the Bible and English. I have done so for twelve years. And so far, God has protected me.”

  “What did you mean when you said you had already died?” Beth asked.

  Calvert smiled. “What I meant was that I’m a Christian,” he said.

  “So am I,” Beth said. “But I’m not dead.”

  Calvert chuckled. “If you’re Christian, then you are quite dead,” he said.

  Beth crinkled her nose in confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “When I became a Christian,” Calvert said, “I gave up my life. My old life of selfishness died. But now, I’m alive in Christ. I live for Him.”

  “Even if the cannibals kill you?” Beth asked.

  Calvert nodded.

  “So if you die, you live for Jesus,” Beth said. “And if you die while living, that’s okay?”

  Calvert laughed. “That’s right,” he said. His laughter ended when a thunderclap shook the ship.

  Beth looked up at the sky. The storm clouds were dark and angry. She shivered.

  Captain Home came over to them. “The two of you must get below deck,” he said. “This storm will rock the ship.”

  “Is Patrick going to be all right?” Beth asked.

  “The brig is at the center of the ship,” Captain Home said. “The prisoners will be safe enough.”

  Then the captain gave a small snort. “Where is Nettleton?” Captain Home asked. “It’s not like him to dally. I want my keys.”

  Just then a red-coated soldier jumped onto the deck from the rigging. He rushed over to Captain Home.

  The soldier was holding a blue hat in his hand. He was out of breath. He took off his own black hat. The sergeant had red hair and big ears. His uniform was perfectly neat and clean.