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‹Better GutenbergHeimweh and Other StoriesV — And Shoot to Make Holes · 35 of 63Contents›

Heimweh and Other Stories

by John Luther Long

35 of 63 · Contents · Download EPUB

V And Shoot to Make Holes

The little boat had disappeared.

“Aha!” cried Wahr, “aha!” and again “aha!”

Weiss Nicht only turned to port and waited for the smoke to drift away.

“But your dinked being right has lost me my toy. Dink you, Wahr.”

From the port bow came the voice of Nicht.

“Here is your toy, all O.K., sir.”

True enough, there she was!

“Wahr,” thundered Ruhet, “you are sailing this ship. What are you doing to her? Have you got her on a pivot? How does she turn in a second without me knowing anything about it?”

“Excellency, perhaps she has lost her rudder. I will have Weiswasser look. She certainly turns, as you say, without us knowing it.”

But the truth is that Wahr was troubled in heart as he took the wheel that Weiswasser might go aft. For, unless the wind had changed suddenly, the ship could not have veered. He began to think of witchcraft.

“Excellency,” said Weiss Nicht, who always had a better chance when Wahr was at the wheel or below, “our ship did not turn. That one dived under us.”

“What!” roared Ruhet. “By the beard of a turnip, what do you take me for? Wahr, did you hear that? Aha, ha, ha!”

“I saw her sink on the starboard side, sir, and I saw her rise on the port side, sir,” said Nicht, doggedly. “She is a magical ship.”

“Nicht, let me tell you a little secret,” said the admiral, with a laugh, “when a ship sinks she sinks, and there’s an end to her—magic or no magic. The devil himself could not raise her again—let alone herself. But you would have me believe that you have seen this miracle. Well, go forward and tell in the fo’castle, no one is there!”

“Well, sir, you’ll see, sir,” said Weiss Nicht. “If I were you, I would fly from that craft. There is some magic there. Excellency, I believe it was none of our own gunners who clipped off the figurehead—I don’t see how they could—but that magic thing.”

“Aha, ha, ha!” laughed Ruhet. “How, Nicht? Did she fire herself at us? That’s as easy as sinking herself and rising again. And let me tell you another little secret, Nicht. No cannon can be fired without smoke. And we have seen no smoke from her—even if she were big enough to carry a gun that would reach us. Why, Nicht, look at that gun there. With that on the deck with the toy she could not float a minute. Nicht—Nicht—poor chap—you must report to the doctor at once, aha, ha, ha!”

Nicht, much hurt, left the deck, and Ruhet laughed until the tears ran down his face.

But he stopped suddenly at last, for the ship trembled for an instant, and then it was known that the rudder post had been clipped away. And Weiswasser had gone with it.

Out on the water the little boat sat as placidly as a swan.

This was so serious that Ruhet would have stormed at the gunners. But he remembered that none of his guns had been fired. Besides, he had no time. Another piece was clipped from the bow. Then, as quickly, another from the stern.

The ship now began to roll backward and forward, like a rocking-horse.

Out on the sea, apparently from the little craft, came the voice, so much greater than she: “Aha, ha, ha! Aha, ha, ha! Tonans ahoy! When you have had enough say so, and we’ll stop! Otherwise we’ll chop you into kindling.”

“Well, by my mother’s carpet slipper!” cried Ruhet, “it can’t be any one on this ship!”

He looked skyward, then over the side, then off at the innocent toy. Nothing seemed to account for it.

Nicht Wahr left the useless wheel and came forward.

“Nicht Wahr,” whispered Ruhet, “Nicht thinks that toy has had something to do with this magic.”

“Sire, I told you—”

“Wahr, you’re a liar,” said the bluff Ruhet, wrathfully. “You didn’t know anything to tell me. You were never in Byzantium in your dinked life! You said you would get it for me. Well, why don’t you do so instead of letting it get us—a little at a time? Now let me see if you are good for anything. I no longer want it. Destroy it. And quickly. Don’t be too polite. Shoot to kill—or, at least, to make holes. Push the Tonans right up on her—so that you won’t miss her!”

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