Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction; Oz (Imaginary place) -- Juvenile fiction
"Why not call it by its proper name?" teased Roger, scratching his head
with his left claw. "And I think it most unlikely we'll strike anything
as curious and important as Tazander Forest. Two discoveries like that
just couldn't happen two days running. Still, I'll just fly up to the
main truck and have a look around."
"Main truck?" Tandy wrinkled up his brows. "I thought I knew all the
parts of this ship by now. You never told me about the main truck,
Roger."
"Just the top of the main mast, Brainless." Giving Tandy an
affectionate little shove, Roger soared into the rigging and Tandy went
joyfully off to have another look at the forest Samuel had insisted
on naming after him. He had taken great pains with the painting and
printing when he sketched it on the map, and now with a sigh of
complete satisfaction he stood regarding the sea chart. Then, suddenly
remembering he had promised to water Samuel Salt's plants, he jog
trotted contentedly down to the hold.
The tumbleweeds in their small red pots grew so rapidly Samuel had
to cut them back every day. These Tandy watered very sparingly,
snapping his fingers at Mo-fi, who was gravely chinning himself on a
branch of his artificial tree. The slips of the sea trees in their
covered aquarium required no attention at all. Ato had planted all the
vegetable and fruit vines from Peakenspire on the rail outside the
galley, so that left only the creeping vines from Patrippany Island to
care for. He had just picked up one of the small potted creepers when
a sharp rap tap under his toes made Tandy leap straight up in the air.
Someone was knocking on the bottom of the boat.
"Ato! Captain! ROGER!" shrilled the little boy, scurrying up from the
hold faster than he had ever done before.
"Su--su--SOMEBODY'S knocking on the bottom of the boat." Before he
could explain, or tell them anything further, a perfectly terrific
knock from below made the _Crescent Moon_ shiver from end to end.
Samuel and Ato, leaning over the port rail, turned round so suddenly
they bumped their heads smartly together. Next with a scrape, screech
and splintering of timber, a giant white horn came tearing up through
the decks.
"Whale! Whale!" croaked Roger, falling off the main truck and coasting
crazily down to the deck. "Wha--what ever'n ever's that?" he quavered,
pointing a trembling claw at the rigid white column between the main
and mizzenmasts. Samuel did not even try to explain, for at that
instant the ship began to rise, to fall, to lash and plunge both up
and down and east and west. Hooking his arms through the rail, Tandy
blinked, gasped and shudderingly waited for the _Crescent Moon_ to fly
asunder.
"Narwhal, Mates!" panted Samuel Salt, throwing himself bodily upon the
wheel. "Horn like a--uni--corn--branch of the Odontocetes and--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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