CHAPTER 18
A New Country
Driven by the pitiless wind, pounded by the merciless sea, the Crescent Moon rode before the gale, coming, toward morning, into quiet waters at last. The sky, now pale grey instead of black, showed a small single star in the east, and with a huge sigh of weariness and relief Samuel let go the anchor and bade his crew turn in all standing. This they were only too glad to do, sleeping heavily and thankfully in their clothes, Nikobo still wrapped in her sail snoring like a whole band of music beneath the mizzenmast.
Tandy, to whom the storm had been a thrilling adventure, was the first to waken. Still stiff and bruised from the pounding he had taken as the Crescent Moon tossed and pitched in the terrible seas, he sprang eagerly out of his bunk, curious to know where the storm had carried them.
The morning mists, lifting like a shimmering veil or the curtain of a stage on some new and strange scene, showed a long white line of chalk cliffs to the east, and beyond the cliffs the dim outline of a great and splendid city. With joy and lively expectations Tandy had run out on deck, but now, after a long look over the port rail, he crept silently and soberly back to his cabin, closing the door softly behind him. Later, as the sun rose higher, and his shipmates awoke, the excited screams of Nikobo and Roger and the eager voices of Samuel and Ato told him that they too had seen the bright land beyond the cliffs. Already Samuel was clewing up his sail and above the rattle in the rigging Tandy could hear the rasp of the anchor cable as it came winding over the side. But he only bent lower over the fat book in his lap, and when the Read Bird, loudly calling his name, came hurtling through the port-hole, he did not even look up.
"Land! Land and MORELAND!" croaked Roger, dancing up and down on the foot of the bunk. "None of your pesky islands this time, but a whole long new continent. What in salt's the matter, youngster, this is no time to be a-reading! Come on, come on, the Captain's looking for you!" As Roger peered sharply down at the book in Tandy's lap two tears splashed on the open page. Quickly brushing two more off his nose, the ship's cabin boy unwillingly met the puzzled gaze of the Read Bird.
"Roger," demanded Tandy in a smothered and unsteady voice, "which is most important, being a King or being a person?" Roger, his head on one side, considered this for a moment and then spoke quickly.
"Well, you can't be a good King without being a good person, so I should say, being a good person is most important."
"But it says here," with a furious sniff Tandy put his finger on the middle paragraph of the page, "'In no circumstances and for no reason may a King forsake his country nor desert his countrymen.'"
"What's that? What's this? Humph! Maxims for Monarchs. Well, what in topsails do we care for that musty volume?" Giving the book a vicious shove, Roger, forgetting how much he had formerly praised Ato's fat volume, fluttered down on Tandy's shoulder. "So THAT'S it!" he burst out explosively. "This pernicious country yonder is Ozamaland. Well, we can't spare you and that's final. They didn't know how to treat a good King when they had one, now let 'em practice on somebody else. Say the word, m'lad, and we'll put about and sail away as fast as a good ship can take us! CAPTAIN! Master Salt! Deck ahoy! All hands 'HOY!" Without waiting for Tandy's answer, Roger skimmed through the port and winged over to the Captain.
"Wait! Wait!" sputtered Tandy, hurrying aft where the officers and crew of the Crescent Moon were now engaged in earnest conversation. "Don't you remember you wanted some of those creeping birds and flying reptiles, Captain? Well, this is the place!" puffed the little boy, waving his arm toward the cliffs. "This is Ozamaland and I've got to go ashore. It's really all right," he continued earnestly as Samuel began unhappily rubbing his chin, "it's been a grand voyage and I've learned a lot, but a King has to stick to his post, hasn't he?"