The Tale of Little Pig Robinson (6 page)

Therefore the cat neglected its duties, and was upon the worst of terms with the cook.
Instead of blacking boots and valeting the Captain, it spent days and nights in the rigging, serenading the
moon. Between times it came down on deck, and remonstrated with Robinson.

It never told him plainly why he ought not to eat so much; but it referred frequently
to a mysterious date (which Robinson could never remember) — the date of Captain Butcher’s birthday, which
he celebrated annually by an extra good dinner.

“That’s what they are saving up apples for. The onions are done — sprouted with the
heat. I heard Captain Barnabas tell the cook that onions were of no consequence as long as there were apples
for sauce.”

Robinson paid no attention. In fact, he and the cat were both on the side of the ship,
watching a shoal of silvery fishes. The ship was completely becalmed. The cook strolled across the deck to
see what the cat was looking at and exclaimed joyfully at sight of fresh fish. Presently half the crew were
fishing. They baited their lines with bits of scarlet wool and bits of biscuit; and the boatswain had a
successful catch on a line baited with a shiny button.

The worst of button fishing was that so many fish dropped off while being hauled on
deck. Consequently Captain Butcher allowed the crew to launch the jolly boat, which was let down from some
iron contraption called “the davits” on to the glassy surface of the sea. Five sailors got into the boat;
the cat jumped in also. They fished for hours. There was not a breath
of wind.

In the absence of the cat, Robinson fell asleep peacefully upon the warm deck. Later
he was disturbed by the voices of the mate and the cook, who had not gone fishing. The former was
saying:

“I don’t fancy loin of pork with sunstroke, Cooky. Stir him up; or else throw a piece
of sail cloth over him. I was bred on a farm myself. Pigs should never be let sleep in a hot sun.”

“As why?” inquired the cook.

“Sunstroke,” replied the mate. “Likewise it scorches the skin; makes it peely like;
spoils the look of the crackling.”

At this point a rather heavy dirty piece of sail cloth was flung over Robinson, who
struggled and kicked with sudden grunts.

“Did he hear you, Matey?” asked the cook in a lower voice.

“Don’t know; don’t matter; he can’t get off the ship,” replied the mate, lighting his
pipe.

“Might upset his appetite; he’s feeding beautiful,” said the cook.

Presently the voice of Captain Barnabas Butcher was heard. He had come up on deck
after a siesta below in his cabin.

“Proceed to the crow’s nest on the main mast; observe the horizon through a telescope
according to latitude and longitude. We ought to be amongst the archipelago by the chart and compass,” said
the voice of Captain Butcher.

It reached the ears of Robinson through the sail cloth in muffled tones, but
peremptory; although it was not so received by the mate, who occasionally
contradicted the Captain when no one else was listening.

“My corns are very painful,” said the mate.

“Send the cat up,” ordered Captain Barnabas briefly.

“The cat is out in the boat fishing.”

“Fetch him in then,” said Captain Barnabas, losing his temper. “He has not blacked my
boots for a fortnight.” He went below; that is, down a stepladder into his cabin, where he proceeded to work
out the latitude and longitude again, in search of the archipelago.

“It’s to be hoped that he mends his temper before next Thursday, or he won’t enjoy
roast pork!” said the mate to the cook.

They strolled to the other end of the deck to see what fish had been caught;
the boat was coming back.

As the weather was perfectly calm, it was left over night upon the glassy sea, tied
below a port-hole (or ship’s window) at the stern of the “Pound of Candles”.

The cat was sent up the mast with a telescope; it remained there for some time. When
it came down it reported quite untruthfully that there was nothing in sight. No particular watch or look-out
was kept that night upon the “Pound of Candles” because the ocean was so calm. The cat was supposed to watch —
if anybody did. All the rest of the ship’s company played cards.

Not so the cat or Robinson. The cat had noticed a slight movement under the sail
cloth. It found Robinson shivering with fright and in floods of tears. He had overheard the conversation
about pork.

“I’m sure I have given you enough hints,” said the cat to Robinson. “What do you
suppose they were feeding you up for? Now don’t start squealing, you little fool! It’s as easy as snuff, if
you will listen and stop crying. You can row, after a fashion.” (Robinson had been out fishing occasionally
and caught several crabs.) “Well, you have not far to go; I could see the top of the Bong tree on an island
N.N.E., when I was up the mast. The straits of the archipelago are too shallow for the “Pound of Candles”,
and I’ll scuttle all the other boats. Come along, and do what I tell you!” said the cat.

The cat, actuated partly by unselfish friendship, and partly by a grudge against the
cook and Captain Barnabas Butcher, assisted Robinson to collect a
varied assortment of necessaries. Shoes, sealing-wax, a knife, an
armchair, fishing tackle, a straw hat, a saw, fly papers, a potato pot, a telescope, a kettle, a compass, a
hammer, a barrel of flour, another of meal, a keg of fresh water, a tumbler, a teapot, nails, a bucket, a
screwdriver —

“That reminds me,” said the cat, and what did it do but go round the deck with a
gimlet and bore large holes in the three boats that remained on board the “Pound of Candles”.

By this time there began to be ominous sounds below; those of the sailors who had had
bad hands were beginning to be tired of carding. So the cat took a hasty farewell of Robinson, pushed him
over the ship’s side, and he slid down the rope into the boat.

The cat unfastened the upper end of the rope and threw it
after him. Then it ascended the rigging and pretended to sleep upon its watch.

Robinson stumbled somewhat in taking his seat at the oars. His legs were short for
rowing. Captain Barnabas in the cabin suspended his deal, a card in his hand, listening (the cook took the
opportunity to look under the card), then he went on slapping down the cards, which drowned the sound of
oars upon the placid sea.

After another hand, two sailors left the cabin and went on deck. They noticed
something having the appearance of a large black beetle in the distance. One of them said it was an enormous
cockroach, swimming with its hind legs. The other said it was a dolphinium. They disputed,
rather loudly. Captain Barnabas, who had had a hand with no trumps
at all after the cook dealing — Captain Barnabas came on deck and said:

“Bring me my telescope.”

The telescope had disappeared; likewise the shoes, the sealing-wax, the compass, the
potato pot, the straw hat, the hammer, the nails, the bucket, the screwdriver, and the armchair.

“Take the jolly boat and see what it is,” ordered Captain Butcher.

“All jolly fine, but suppose it is a dolphinium?” said the mate mutinously.

“Why, bless my life, the jolly boat is gone!” exclaimed a sailor.

“Take another boat, take all the three other boats; it’s that pig and that cat!”
roared the Captain.

“Nay, sir, the cat’s up the rigging asleep.”