Part 3 (1/2)

On hands and knees, not daring to breathe on the limpid surface of the pool, the children watched the little drama. From the cliff top the heated air rose dancing into the sky. So still were earth and air and sea that the old finner's rise sounded as though the cliff were falling. He had worked nearer in to the rocks than seemed possible for his ninety feet of blubber and muscle, and as his black side rolled over, the water about him boiled like a pot; but he did not splash, for he had been well brought up and always knew what his tail was doing, though it was so far away.

”s.h.i.+ver these rocks,” he began in a rage, as he flung two fountains out of his nose. Then he caught sight of Fiona and the gleam of the red bracelet.

”Oh my fins and flippers!” he spouted. ”I ask pardon, young lady; I haven't the manners of a grampus. And they told me about you.”

”Who's they?” asked Fiona, ungrammatically.

”Friends at Court, friends at Court,” said the finner. ”What a thing to have. 'No need of the old sailorman,' said I. But they said I must go. And I've sc.r.a.ped the barnacles off my precious tail. Will it run to some tobacco?”

”Will what run?” said the girl. ”Your tail? What is it you want?”

”Hints are wasted, I see,” said the whale. ”'One question,' said I.

Only one. But magic is magic, you know, even for a tough old sailorman. Come now, one question. I'm too far insh.o.r.e for my liking.”

Fiona understood.

”Is it about my treasure?” she said.

”Yours, or that boy's there, whichever you like,” said the whale. ”But only one, only one.”

For about two seconds Fiona did some hard mental drill. Then she said:

”Will you please tell me where the Urchin can find his treasure?”

”You do have luck,” said the finner. ”Think of it, then. O you little fishes, think of it. If you'd asked the other, I didn't know the answer. Wouldn't have got an answer, and my tail all sc.r.a.ped for nothing. And this one, my great-great-grandmother saw it all, and n.o.body knows here but me and the seals and one man, and he's too fat to count. West cave, Scargill Island; and bring you luck, my dear.

Will it run to some tobacco?”

”Thank you so much,” said Fiona politely. ”And I'm sorry I haven't any tobacco with me. But if you could wait a few minutes . . .”

”s.h.i.+ver it, I'm sc.r.a.ping again,” said the whale. ”No tobacco and very few barnacles in this world. O my grandmother's flukes, I might as well be a bottlenose!”

Once more the water boiled, and beneath it the huge black body shot away for the open sea.

”Fiona,” said the boy, ”do you really think it's cricket?”

”What isn't cricket?” she asked.

”Fiona,” he said, ”I've been a brother to you. I have done all the things a brother ought to do. I have taught you to throw like a boy. I have pinched you for new clothes. I have called you names, to make you good-tempered. I have made remarks on your personal appearance, to prevent your being vain. I have even fought with you, solely for your good. And this is how you repay me. The other day you pretended to be talking to a sh.o.r.e lark; to-day it was an old whale, who spouted and banged his tail on the rock. If it's a joke, I don't see it. If it's not a joke, do go into a lunatic asylum, and let me find a simpler job.”

Fiona tossed up mentally between hitting him and laughing; it came down laughing.

”Urchin,” she said, ”it's all right. I don't understand it much better than you do, but it has something to do with this bracelet of mine. I can really understand them and they can understand me. If you doubt my word, we will fight a duel with the boat stretchers, and I will bury you in the sand here afterwards.”

”Oh, I believe you when you talk like that,” said the Urchin; ”only it's worse than the Latin grammar. _Psittacus loquitur_, ”the parrot talks”; but this thing seemed to be a whale; it was very like one.”

”It was a whale,” said Fiona. ”He said his great-great-grandmother had seen the Spanish captain land his doubloons, and that it was in the west cave on Scargill Island.”

”That means the big cave at the end facing the sea,” said the boy.

”The cave that no one has ever got to the end of,” said Fiona.

”The cave that's haunted,” said the boy.