Michael’s Ark. Alex Nuller

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      Moosie liked that name so much that he didn’t call himself “little white Moosie’ any more, but would repeat to himself “I’m Moosie, Seamoosie”. Moosie gladly agreed to be the helmsman51, but he absolutely refused to climb up in the rigging and lines. In any case, Wolf didn’t insist; after looking Moosie over, he wheezed “Can’t use you aloft52, you’ll get them horns fouled in the rigging53.” Camel wasn’t suited for the work either, since he had hooves on all four legs.

      “By St. Elmo’s fire,” Wolf croaked, “what use are ye on a ship?”

      “I have analyzed my capabilities,” Camel said, “and I have come to the conclusion that the best position for me would to be lookout. Camels are known for their excellent sight and hearing.”

      “With hearing that good, you ought to be a hearout,” Wolf croaked, slightly confusing even himself, “anyway, all right, be a lookout. Just be brief in your reports, or else we’ll be stuck on a reef before you shut your gob!”

      Wolf made Mike the cabin boy and assigned all the other work on board to him. At first Mike was a bit upset:

      “I wanted to be captain, or at least first lieutenant54, and now I’m only going to be a cabin boy?”

      “Better to start off as cabin boy and end up as captain than to start as captain and end up at the bottom of the sea,” Wolf said.

      “A sage observation55,” Camel agreed.

      “There’ll be no favourites on my ship,” the captain concluded, “stand your watch, boy!” But Mike wasn’t downhearted. First he had to be the cook for the animals and for himself. He had stocked the galley56 and laid in supplies for the purpose. In addition, Mike learned how to raise and lower the sails, tie sailor’s knots and drop the anchor. True, sometimes he confused the mainsail with the mainbrace57, and Wolf loudly dressed him down. But the cabin boy bravely withstood Wolf’s criticism, and didn’t resent his captain.

      Their first days at sea were tranquil. A fair warm wind filled the sails. The friends enjoyed the views of the faraway shores, the fresh sea air and the sunny sky above the sails.

      “It’s so great that we’ve started off on this voyage!” Mike thought. “It’s so terrific!”

      Moosie manned the helm. Camel dreamed, dozing on the brig’s bow, occasionally raising his eyebrows and looking off into the distance. Wolf paced up and down the ship importantly, sucking on his pipe and barking comments at Mike and Moosie.

      “Just how in Davy Jones’s locker58 are you securing that jib59, boy? Can’t you tie a sailor’s knot? You’re not tying your shoes! And as for you, don’t you know yet how to come about60, you horned beast? You’re gonna lower the boom61 on them horns of yours! You’re not driving a streetcar!”

      At first Moosie was afraid of Wolf and he winced every time he heard his hoarse yells, but then he got used to it and just lightly flapped his ears.

      On their third day at sea, the weather took a nasty turn. The sky was filled with rain clouds, a fine rain was falling and a blustery wind blew.

      “Of course, I am not a meteorologist62,” Camel said, “but the weather no longer favours us. Preventive measures63 are called for!”

      Wolf ordered lowering half the sails, and Mike had to climb up the pitching, rolling mast right into the rain.

      By the morning of the fourth day the bad weather had turned into a real storm. Gigantic waves tossed Michael’s Ark up and down, and the brig creaked and rolled from side to side. Rain came down in torrents. You couldn’t even see the sky, only clumps of gray clouds hanging over the rolling masts.

      Moosie could barely control the helm with his short paws. He was soaked all through, his hooded coat stuck to his body, his horns waving back and forth in the wind. But to Mike’s surprise, he wouldn’t abandon his post for anything.

      “I’m Seamoosie, and I’m steering the ship,” he would say.

      “You should put up your hood, Moosie!” Mike suggested.

      “I can’t,” Moosie said, “my handlers won’t fit in my hoodie.”

      “Then go below and dry off, I’ll take your place. Your paws must be all rough and raw!”

      “Yes,” Moosie said, “they are, look!”

      Moosie let go of the helm and showed his paws to Mike.

      Just at that moment, a gust of wind made the ship lurch; the helm spun around and a grip hit Moosie right in the nose. The helmsman lost his footing and fell on the deck, floundered around on the wet boards, flipped over the railing and landed straight in the boiling sea.

      “Moosie!” Mike cried, “Moosie fell overboard!”

      “What?!” roared Captain Wolf. “Fell overboard?!”

      “Yes!” Mike cried, despairingly. “Over there!”

      “Moose overboard!” Wolf bellowed. “Cast a line!”

      Mike didn’t understand what Wolf meant, but there was no time to ask questions. So he jumped in after Moosie, without taking off his shirt, trousers or sandals.

      For a moment, Mike was struck blind and deaf in the cold water. The waves slapped him from side to side, and he couldn’t figure out where he needed to swim to.

      “Swim more to your left, ten thousand moose in me craw!” bawled Wolf from the deck.

      Mike started working his hands and feet and swam to his left. Suddenly, in the trough between the waves, two brown branches appeared on the surface that looked like a moose’s horns from a distance. But waves immediately engulfed them, СКАЧАТЬ