Captain Salt in Oz

by Ruth Plumly Thompson

"The Crescent Moon," began Roger with an impressive jerk of his head, "is a square rigged three-masted sailing vessel. Normally 'twould take from sixty to eighty men in a crew to set and make sail and bring her about in a blow. But Samuel Salt has magic sail controls, so we three manage quite easily, and now that YOU are here and the handy hippopotamus below 'twill be easier still. The mast we're riding is the foremast. The mast second from the bow, as we call the front of the ship, is the mainmast, and the mast at the back or, as we salt water birds say, the stern of the boat, is the mizzenmast. And now for the sails." Roger took a deep breath. "Those below, beginning from the bottom up, are the course, the topsail, the topgallant sail, the royal and the sky sail. And don't forget!" Roger wagged his claw sternly. "Before each sail you must put the name of the mast to which it is attached. As, for instance, this ahead of us is the fore-topgallant sail. SEE? And everything to the left of the ship's center we say is on the port side and anything to the right is on the starboard."

"Then tell me why is the water on the port side bluer than the water on the starboard?" asked Tandy, who had been listening very solemnly as he tried to fix all of these strange sea terms in his head.

"Bravo!" cried Roger. "Right the first time, Mate. And the water is bluer on the port side of the vessel because it is saltier. The bluer the saltier," declared Roger, who, besides his first voyage with the Crescent Moon, had read all the sea books in Ato's library and was simply crammed with deep sea facts and information. "And what is more," he continued, pursing his bill mysteriously, "we're sailing in a magic circle never knowing what may pop up over the edge. A ship? An island? A hurricane? Or even a fabulous monster! That's what makes sea voyaging so glorious, and sailing so much fun!"

Tandy, staring at the empty circle of blue falling away from the ship on all sides, nodded dreamily. The White City—Patrippany Island—all his former life and existence seemed unreal and far away and he hoped in his heart of hearts the Crescent Moon would not reach his native shores for many a long gay day. As Roger said, being a person was fun.

"M—mm!" Roger sniffed suddenly. "Wonder what Ato's cooking? Smells like taffy. I'll bet a ship's biscuit we're going to have a candy pull."

"A candy pull!" exclaimed Tandy, taking a furious sniff himself. "What is that?" As Roger started in to explain about candy pulls, a large green column shot up on the skyline, a column so surprising and shocking in appearance Tandy felt positively stunned.

"Oh, look! LOOK!" he screamed, grabbing Roger's wing. "There's something now. Oh, Roger, what fun! What terrible fun!"

"Fun?" Roger spun round like a weather cock in a gale. "Fun?" he repeated, stretching out his neck as far as it would go and a few inches besides. "Oh, my best bill and feathers. That's not fun—that's a SEA-Serpent. Help! Help! Deck ahoy! 'Hoy! 'Hoy! Below! King! Captain! Ato! SAMMY! SAMU-EL!" As if calling them not only by their titles but by their names would increase the number of the ship's officers and crew, Roger tugged wildly at Tandy's arm. "Below! Below! All hands below," shrilled the Read Bird. "Cover all ports and batten the hatches!"

Urged on by Roger, Tandy, still more interested than frightened, descended rapidly to the main deck. At Roger's cries, Ato had run out with a pan of bubbling molasses in one hand and his trusty bread knife in the other. Right behind him stood Samuel Salt, his eye pressed to his largest spyglass.

"Well, tar and tarry barrels!" exclaimed the Captain exultantly. "Why, this is a sea serpent second to none, the finest example of a marine ophidian I've ever met in all my voyages!"