The Pirates of Shan Part 17

"You're right," Zircon agreed. "No question of it. So curb your impatience, Scotty. Your turn will come and so will mine. Chahda, you take the lead in figuring out disguises for you and Rick. Scotty, you and I will take over the watch and get underway."

By morning the _Swift Arrow_, with the vinta in tow, was in Indonesian waters far from shipping lanes or fishing grounds. Zircon figured their position as 120 degrees 29 minutes longitude, and 4 degrees 21 seconds lat.i.tude. They had seen no sails for hours.

The MTB was allowed to drift while the group went about the business of making ready. Chahda had created a Moro cap for Rick from a piece of upholstery he had cut from a seat bottom. Rick had cut the seams in a pair of white duck trousers and laced them with twine from the rope locker until they fitted as tightly as Moro pants. One of his own shirts, dirtied up a little and left open at the collar, would complete his outfit.

Chahda cut one of his extra turbans in half and made sashes for both of them, and modified the wrapping of his own turban so that it was more like the flat Moro variety.

The only real problem was Rick's color. In spite of his deep tan he couldn't possibly pa.s.s for a Moro. He and Chahda searched the boat for something that would serve as a stain, then finally took their problem to the others.

Scotty had the answer. With a broad grin he went to his suitcase and drew out a can of brown shoe polish. "Neatness pays," he proclaimed. He pa.s.sed it to Chahda with a flourish. "Don't give him too high a gloss when you polish him."

"How about shoes?" Zircon asked. "The polish reminded me. The pirates don't wear any."

"This pirate does," Rick declared. "I'll rub the shine off, but I can't go barefoot."

"Also," Chahda agreed. "Foots too tender. We could not run or fight in barefoots."

When everything was in readiness except for the application of polish, Rick and Chahda took time to eat, then got into the vinta and began practicing.

The craft was filthy, from years of acc.u.mulated dirt and no cleaning, and it offended Rick's nose. But more than that, it was hard to handle.

He could sail in conventional craft, but the outrigger design had its own peculiarities.

Slowly, as the day wore on, the two boys learned the Moro craft's ways until they could handle it fairly well. There were paddles, in case the wind failed, and Rick thought they might end up using the paddles, anyway.

As they tied up after the last practice run Zircon called them to eat, then instructed them to get some sleep. None of the four had slept more than an hour at a time since the previous morning, but the big scientist and Scotty had decided to handle the MTB themselves on the way to the pirate island, so Rick and Chahda could be fresh for the night's adventure.

After a meal of hot soup and crackers, the two boys climbed into their bunks and drifted off to sleep. Zircon and Scotty had already started the run toward Shan.

Rick awoke with Scotty shaking him. "Time to rise, old son."

The boy swung to the deck. "Where are we?"

"About five miles east of the island." Scotty shook Chahda and told the Hindu boy it was time to get up, then he sat down next to Rick. "I feel funny, not going with you. Maybe I'd better go along. I could stay in the vinta, and be ready in case of trouble."

Rick gave his pal a sympathetic grin. He knew how Scotty felt. "Look at it this way. If Chahda and I get caught, that leaves only you and Zircon. And you couldn't give up, even with us out of the picture."

"I guess so." Scotty gave in reluctantly. "Come on. Coffee and sandwiches waiting. I'll go topside and help the professor keep a lookout."

Rick and Chahda got into their outfits, then the Hindu boy carefully rubbed in polish on Rick's face, neck, arms, and hands, and his chest where it showed through the open shirt.

Finally the Hindu boy stood back and admired his handiwork. "Plenty good. You make fine Moro, Rick."

Rick adjusted Chahda's kris in his sash. "So are you. You'd fool the Sultan of Sulu himself."

"We be two Datus," Chahda said, grinning. "Datu Rick and Datu Chahda."

"What's this date business?" Scotty asked as he came down from the pilothouse.

"Is Datu, not date. Datu is what Moros call Chiefs. We Datus."

"Okay, Datus. The professor wants a look at you. I'll go take the wheel while he comes down. We're blacked out topside, just in case there's a lookout on this side of the island."

In a moment Zircon came down and inspected them carefully. "You'd never pa.s.s in daylight, Rick," he said finally. "But at night there should be no trouble unless someone gives you a close inspection--in which case you'd be caught, anyway. Now, have some coffee and sandwiches while Scotty and I move the boat in closer."

Rick said doubtfully, "Isn't it dangerous to get too close?"

Chahda chimed in. "In 'Worrold Alm-in-ack,' says can see pretty far at sea. Volcano is maybe five hundred feet. Man on top can maybe see 25.6 ocean miles, says 'Alm-in-ack.'"

"True." Zircon smiled. "But that would be in daylight, with absolutely clear visibility. You recall that we didn't see the island yesterday until we were perhaps ten miles away? Water vapor in the air cuts down visibility here, and at night of course it's even less. If we're blacked out, I think we can get within two miles with safety. Fortunately, the moon set shortly after sunset. So our princ.i.p.al problem will be guessing how far away we can be heard. At low speed, on only one engine, I think two miles will be safe."

The professor had been figuring things out, Rick realized. He nodded approval. "All right. We'll be ready by the time you're in position.

I'll leave my Megabuck unit on the boat, and we'll depend on Chahda's.

Then, if we get caught, you and Scotty will still have two sets."

"You won't get caught," Zircon stated emphatically. "Don't even entertain the idea. I'm sure you can outrun the pirates. If you're spotted, call us, then get to the sh.o.r.e. We'll come roaring in. Also, I want you to take the pistol and extra clips. Then, if need be, you can hold off the mob for the few minutes it will take us to get there."

"All right." Rick didn't really believe they would be caught. Chahda was an expert at reconnoitering, and he had had plenty of experience himself. Besides, it was good to be moving into action, no matter what the danger. They had searched for a long time. Now, their missing friends were within reach. He had to believe that because the alternative was to think they were dead.

"Let's eat, Chahda," he said. "Almost time to go."

CHAPTER XIV

The High Fire

The Celebes Sea was dark, with a low swell but no chop. There was just enough wind to fill the vinta's sail, which suited Rick. At this stage in the proceedings he was more concerned about silence and safety than speed. Zircon and Scotty had moved another mile seaward as soon as the vinta was launched. That was to avoid anyone on the island hearing the engines in case a sudden onsh.o.r.e wind came up.

Up ahead, Chahda was a dark blur against the sail, tr.i.m.m.i.n.g it for maximum efficiency. Presently the Hindu boy came back to the tiller and sat down near Rick.

Shan's volcanic cone blotted out the stars ahead. There were no lights of any kind on the mountain itself, and the number of lights in the village was gradually diminishing.

The water splashed a little under the rudder, and the cordage holding the mast and sail creaked as a vagrant breeze caught the vinta.

Otherwise, there was no sound. Once a fish jumped nearby, and Rick was halfway to his feet, hand going to the pistol at his belt, before he realized what it was. He smiled at his own tenseness.

Rick wiped moist palms on the thighs of his tight pants and strained to see the first sign of the beach on which he and Chahda would land.

Chahda, according to plan, moved to the bow of the Moro craft in order to keep a lookout.

The timing was all right, Rick thought. There were still lights in the village, but not many. Early, when too many pirates were out of doors, would not be a good time. Later, when perhaps only guards were moving around, would be even worse. They had tried to time their reconnaissance for an in-between period, and it looked as though the selection of the hour was good. Most villagers were in bed, but enough kerosene lamps and candles burned to show that the two of them probably would not attract special attention by being out so late.

Chahda came back and whispered, "We drop sail now."

"Okay." Rick was careful to keep his voice at a whisper. He knew sound carried across the water.