CHAPTER 11
RUMOURS OF PIRATES
It didn’t take Harry long to convince Stanley to take him back into town. The dapple-grey farm horse was abashed by his part in the debacle. He told Harry he believed, along with everyone else, that pirates were attacking Port Isabel because Mayor Lion had said so and because he’d seen a strange bald-faced monkey with pear-shaped ears dressed in pirates clothes drawing its sword. He couldn’t be sure in the fog but it also looked like the pirate had a curly mane, like a lion.
‘M-M-Mayor Lion told us some pigs had seen pirates down at the quay, with weapons. He said they had you and a monkey hostage. The Mayor asked us, he asked us to get you out,’ Stanley explained, repeating some words, getting stuck on others.
Harry listened attentively, patiently. He knew that stress and anxiety would make Stanley’s stutter worse.
Harry told them about Flossy and how he and Larry had rescued her from the pirates.
Stanley looked surprised. ‘The bald-faced monkey is a, a human! I didn’t think there were any m-m-more of them. I thought they were extinct.’
The brown sloth with long black claws—her name was Sally—still hung beneath Stanley’s neck. He had seen her earlier, outside the smouldering ruins of the school. Like Stanley, Sally too was caught up in the confusion and panic.
‘Well, bless me… A human you say? Not pirates.’
When Stanley and Sally had recovered from their surprise, Sally helped Harry climb back up. ‘I’m so sorry for the trouble, Mr Possum. We genuinely thought we were helping,’ she said.
‘I’m so stu-stu-stupid,’ said Stanley, shaking his head despondently.
‘That’s okay, Stanley. If we’re quick there’ll be no harm done,’ said Harry. He settled into a comfortable position for the ride back. He could get used to riding about on horses.
‘And thank you for looking after my baby today,’ said the sloth.
‘Elsie’s a beautiful baby. And please call me Harry.’
Above the town, the air was clear and the great band of stars people called the Milky Way washed the furrowed fields in silver light. In the distance, Razor Reef glowed like a long line of fire embers standing rigidly upright.
Stanley sprang forward and was soon galloping back the way they had come. Silver fields fenced by stone walls whizzed by. The wind swept back his ears and his tail was streaming behind in the slipstream.
‘Back, back to the Square?’ Stanley yelled over his shoulder.
‘No, back to where we started. Flossy may still be there and need our help.’
They passed the tall stone columns marking the town’s outer limits. Each was topped by the statue of an owl, stained with age.
Stanley slowed when they reached the town’s first buildings because the streets were full of animals searching for pirates and the thick fog made the cobblestones slippery.
Before long, they plunged into the tangle of ancient buildings surrounding the Square, Stanley slowing to a trot. This caused Harry to bump up and down uncomfortably on his bushy tail.
Two ball-like, buck-toothed beavers stood before a dark green door. One knocked, the other turned and watched Stanley pass. He held up a lantern, eyes squinting suspiciously. There were lots of animals about. They passed some carrying flaming torches and hastily improvised wooden clubs and pikes made from sharpened broomsticks. There was a wild look in their eyes.
Stanley turned into a narrow alleyway that cut through to Zigzag Road, the main road leading down the long hill to Gateway Quay. The fog was thicker in the alleyway and the overbearing townhouses either side blocked out all other light. A flock of sheep hustled aside and gazed up with awe as Stanley passed.
Stanley stopped halfway down the hill. He pawed at the cobblestones, hot breath misting in the cool air.
‘There’s no one here,’ said Harry. They were standing at the spot were Sally had lifted him onto Stanley’s back. A broken barrel and a long length of rope were lying on the road but there was no sign of Flossy.
‘Yuk. There, there’s something slippery,’ said Stanley lifting a front hoof. He stepped back, lowered his head and sniffed. ‘It, it’s olive oil!’
With his superb night vision, Harry noticed three gibbons lurking in the shadows further down the road. He called them over.
‘Friend of foe,’ challenged the largest gibbon, voice shaky. With one spidery arm he held up an unlit firebrand like a club. Two youngsters hiding behind peered up at Harry with large, fearful eyes.
‘Friend,’ said Harry, simply. ‘I’m Harry Possum, and here is Stanley Horse and Sally Sloth. Where is everyone?’
The little troop of gibbons tentatively approached. ‘Round’n up pirates, sir.’
‘But there aren’t any pirates,’ said Harry.
‘Oh, there’re pirates a’right. The town’s running thick with ‘em,’ said the gibbon.
Harry shook his head. ‘No, it’s all a big mistake. The pirates are stranded on Kidney Reef. I should know…’
‘But I’ve seen ‘em wiv me own eyes,’ said the gibbon, stepping forward. ‘They’ve a bald-faced monkey who has a sword and pirate’s clothes. We chased ‘em across the rooftops. Some of ‘em nearly murdered a gorilla by pushing ‘im through a roof. But we caught ‘em, so I’ve heard said.’
‘Caught them?’
‘Got ‘em holed up in the museum, sir. We were just going up to see for ourselves.’
The two young gibbons were peering up at Stanley. ‘Horse,’ said one.
Six water buffalos clip-clopped past on the other side of the road. They gave Stanley and the puddle of oil a wide birth. Candle lanterns swung from their long horns, which made their shadows dance. Their hooves made a racket on the cobblestones. They were heading up the hill towards Town Square.
Harry leaned forward and spoke into Stanley’s ear. ‘Can you take me to Town Hall? I need to speak with the Mayor. This madness has to stop before someone gets hurt.’
Stanley nodded, deftly leapt the puddle of oil and followed the buffalos up the hill at a fast trot.