BorMane sighed and rejoined Red Whale. BorMane led Red Whale toward the cargo-handling area of the docks and, after walking several more blocks, he pointed to a street sign that said, Freighter Way. Turning down the narrow alley lined with warehouses, they picked their way through throngs of greasy, unshaven, muscular Roustabout Hares moving cargo to and from ships. Everywhere, barrels, crates, boxes, casks, and bundles of lizard skins and shark hides were going up and down, or moving from here to there.
It was not a jolly place. “Heave! Heave! Stain your backs! Heave!” Straining and struggling with heavy ropes and cargo, the Roustabouts cursed and swore at anything that came near them. They even pushed and shoved Red Whale and BorMane out of the way if they happened to stumble against them in the crowded, tight spaces of the alley.
Deciding that they should ask for directions to the Whale freighter station, they waited to speak to a towering Barge Goat who appeared to be of some importance. At least he was bellowing at a group of burly Roustabout Hares struggling with an overturned cart of fish. “Blast yar’t laz’n stumps! Fly! Fly! Lift yar’t stumps!” the Barge Goat roared.
The weary Hares, despite the evening chill, were shirtless in the heavy damp; even their coarse leggings sweat-soaked from the heavy lifting. Panting, their breath heaving from exertion, they weren’t in a mood to be hurried. “Shush yar’t gob, M’ster Billows! Narn a single one o’ us that eats at yar’t table. We’ll be loadin’ yar’t wagon right along. Just be shush’in yar’t gob!”
The rough-looking roustabouts, some with colored bandanas tied across their heads, others with snug cotton caps, one with a bowie knife stuck in his belt, another with a large piece of his ear missing, gave the Barge Goat surly looks as they returned to their work. Showing their contempt, the Hares thumped on barrels as they rolled them, giving beat to a swamp shanty wailed in the most tortured Barge Goat brogue:
’N Mis’tr B kissed his’elf in the mirror,
’n ’is crew b’gan to cheer.
Oh, oh, up he puckers, hav’in no fear.
’N he kissed his’self on the nose,
’n thanks from the ladies arose,
Oh, oh, no more, no more shall they fear.
No more, no more, no more shall they fear.
Mis’tr B has found ’is lovin’ own dear.
Oh, oh, he’s found ’is lovin’ own dear.
The Hares howled with glee. “We’ll be done in a lickety-cut, yar’t own lovin’ beauty! Har, har, har!” they laughed. Grumbling darkly, Mister Billows struck a match and puffed angrily on his long clay pipe, glaring at the Hares. “Blasted rob’nabb’it cargo weevils!” he fumed, muttering amidst the Hares’ raucous laughter.
As the Barge Goat turned away from the Hares to return to other business, Red Whale stepped forward. “Excusing myself, sir, but where’d I find the Whale freighting station?”
“Gone, gone this week last—at least if’n you want shippin’!” the Barge Goat replied.
“Gone!” Red Whale exclaimed.
“Aye! And what ’bout that’s you don’t und’stand?” the Barge Goat said.
“But I’m desperate for their help,” Red Whale cried. “How can they be gone?”
“They run’s a four-month freightin’ route,” the Barge Goat responded. “Two month’s out stoppin’ at ports, then two month’s back stoppin’ at different ones.”
“Four months!” Red Whale moaned. “We can’t wait four months!”
“Which way’s you shippin’?”
“We’re bound for the Outer Rings and wanted to avoid the Ogress. So, we were lookin’ to the Whales to carry us across the Stills.”
“Four months,” the Barge Goat repeated. “No chance a’fore that. Only shippin’ runs are in directions where there’s breeze’in for sailin’ ships.”
Red Whale was furious. Surely Death had known the Whale freighters had departed! He had allowed Red Whale and BorMane to go on what he knew would be a disappointing trip. “Crinoo! Zarr!” Red Whale scowled as he and BorMane retraced their steps. “Oh, and he’s a clever one!”
Returning to Daring Dream at a rapid pace, Red Whale found Death lounging contentedly on the sacks of gold coins piled on the dock. A goodly number of Fancy Grace’s crew surrounded him, quietly peeling and eating shrimp. The ferocious pirates seemed to take no notice of Red Whale and BorMane. Being stripped naked to the waist, however, showcased the gruesome scars crisscrossing their bodies, sending a message impossible to ignore. Hatchets, knives, and cutlasses hung from wide belts at their waist. The purpose of the display of force was obvious to Red Whale.
“So, it appears our deal is off,” Red Whale commented.
“Heavens, no,” Death replied with a gruff laugh. “The bargain’s sure and true’s it ever was.”
“Then command those rascals to leave and allow me to reload my half of the gold. We will gladly depart as soon as it’s loaded.”
“Then you are the one breaking our bargain,” Death replied.
“Me?” Red Whale roared. “Me break the bargain? Nay! I have honored my part of the deal.”