The Wrackshee chieftain directed that Katteo be carried to the stern of the ship and lifted onto the gunwale. “Now, my Bug-brained Wildcat, do you want to leap off yourself, like a brave beast, or would you rather admit you are a cowardly rascal and have us throw you overboard? In either case, putting you off the rear of the ship show’s best to all to leave you in the past, while the rest of us go forward.”
“The only cowards here be yourselves!” Katteo declared. “And rascal is too good a word for the likes of you Dung-swilling Hell-bounders! Nay, I’ll not take more of your filthy hands—I’m away on my own powers—my spirit whole, and off to see new adventures!” With that, Katteo gave a hop and dropped out of sight—KERSPLOOSH!
Alas for the Wrackshees, they should have thought again of their hasty act, for listening below were, of course, Captain Red Whale Gumberpott and his good mate, Fishbum. When the Wrackshee kayaks were summoned to the ship, abandoning their watch, Red Whale and Fishbum breathed a deep sigh of relief. Pulling themselves up and hanging their arms over the rudder chains, they listened with great interest to the proceedings above them.
Hearing Katteo’s speech and seeing her fall past them into the sea, Fishbum silently slipped into the water and swam underwater to where Katteo was struggling in her bonds. Coming up beneath his struggling comrade, Fishbum tugged firmly on Katteo’s trouser leg until she stopped her struggles and allowed him to untie her feet. Now able to stay afloat by kicking her legs, Katteo still kept up the sounds of her struggle so as not to draw the attention of the Wrackshees back to her.
Soon, Fishbum has also freed Katteo’s arms and Fishbum said softly, covered by the continuing sounds of Katteo’s dramatic struggle, “Now for the finale of your acting debut—drowning—make it real and trust me.” Taking a deep breath, Fishbum slid under the surface and pulled hard on Katteo, dragging her underwater. A more convincing image of an exhausted, drowning beast slipping into Davy Jones’s Locker was never presented. Once below the waves, and out of sight, Fishbum guided Katteo to the darkness behind the rudder workings where Red Whale was waiting.
A gray-red dawn was beginning to streak the sky as the three comrades silently greated one another. The opportunity for happy reunion was short-lived, however, because cries and activity on the ship called their attention.
“Butter-Slaggers coming along! Lines and ladders down! Slaves to the Butter Dock in time for breakfast! HORT-HAR-HORT! Breakfast—a stew of spiders and beetles for the lucky beasts! HORT-HAR-HORT!” The Wrackshee chief roared out in his bellowing style. The sounds of running feet, lines being hauled, and the cursing grunts of beasts straining at their work, painted a picture not lost on Red Whale. “Crinoo!” Red Whale cursed under his breath. “They’re going to steal away our mates! We’ve got to make a plan.”
While Red Whale, Fishbum, and Katteo began their urgent deliberations, several large catamaran-style boats pulled alongside Daring Dream. The roughly-made vessels were constructed of two sets of logs, four or five in a group, strapped together with strong grass rope, then joined, one set to another, by a “deck” of woven ropes, supported by a light wooden frame. Two broad woven-reed prows, fronting the bundles of logs, allowed the boat to cut the waves with some grace.
“Butter-Slaggers along and ladder down to the Wreckers!” The repeated call, made eight times, counted off the number of catamarans that pulled aside Daring Dream to take away the captured crew. Quickly, the crew of captured seabeasts was hurried down the rope ladders onto the Butter-Slaggers. Alighting in the catamarans, the captives were greeted by Wreckers—mountain-sized Wrackshees detailed only to the hauling of slaves to the Butter Dock—seven feet or more in height, each one with the strength of ten beasts—scimitars and daggers bristling from their belts.
“See here now, Wreckers!” the Wrackshee leader roared out from the Daring Dream helm. “Every one of you as reaches the Butter Dock with no escapes or dead beasts, there’s an extra lump of gold for you!”
“Ho-Ho!” Red Whale thought to himself, smiling. “I wonder if that includes us?” For while the slaves were being loaded, Red Whale, Fishbum, and Katteo had swum under the Daring Dream and come up under together beneath one of the Butter-Slaggers. Catching hold of the underside corners of the woven-rope decking, the daring comrades well hidden and able to have their heads above water to breathe. “Ho-Ho! I think there may be more than an extra lump of gold coming to them with this cargo!” Red Whale had very good feelings about this turn of events.
Red Whale had great fun listening to the Wreckers arguing above him.
“Yah! It must be a bad current running against us. There’s no wind, but we can’t keep up with the others!”
“Blast it, Doggo, it’s just the lot of those slaves playing slacker at the paddles!”
“Not so—looks to me like they’re pulling for all they’re worth.”