For three days the party followed Felix’s direction
towards the fortress of Pewtrewsha and Morlox.
Now, as the sun began to set behind them, the
third night of their journey approached. The
energy that they mustered up at the beginning of
their trek was not totally depleted, but it was
fading fast.
“Captain Brownbeard,” said Felix.
“Yes, Felix?”
“Um, I don’t know, but Pewtrewsha’s soldiers
usually don’t patrol this close to the sea.”
“Right,” said Brownbeard. “So?”
“Well, they might come out this far if they were
on a hunt,” said Felix.
“Right,” said Brownbeard. “What kind of hunt?”
“A hunt for children,” answered Wilbert.
“Right,” said Felix.
“Oh. Do you think they’re on a hunt now?”
asked Brownbeard. “Do you think we’re in danger
of running into a hunting party?”
“I normally wouldn’t think so. I am being
careful to avoid all roads and villages I know of,”
said Felix. “That should keep us out of sight and
hearing for a few more days.”
“Good,” said Brownbeard.
“But I’ve got a weird feeling,” said Felix. “I
think maybe we’re being watched.”
Kumquat’s, Wilbert’s and Schmoor’s eyes
widened.
“Watched?” asked Kumquat. “You mean by
Pewtrewsha’s soldiers?”
“I don’t know,” said Felix. “Pewtrewsha has
spies all over the Land of Longing. She may
already know we are coming.”
“I haven’t seen any spies,” observed Wilbert.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t recall seeing any
other living creatures in this awful place!”
“You wouldn’t see her spies!” said Kumquat.
“That’s why they’re called spies!”
“Felix is right,” said Hazel. “I’ve had strange
feelings that we’re being watched ever since we
stepped foot in the Land of Longing.”
“You guys are giving me the shivers,” said
Brownbeard. “Well, let’s all make sure to keep
extra vigilant. From now on, when we set up
camp, we’ll double the night watch from one
person to two.”
The six were working to make it up a long
incline littered with boulders. Everyone was
huffing and puffing. They had been walking uphill
for several miles. Finally, they reached the top.
From this vantage point, the group could look
back across the way they had come. A hint of the
ocean was just visible. Up to that thin line on the
horizon, there was nothing but steel-hued, jagged
spars and rocky plain. Then, the land bored of its
own monotony and gave over to the water.
Before them lay a wooded valley which was the
first visible sign of life, besides lichens and
mosses, they had seen since beginning their march.
A pair of large black birds soaring just above the
tree tops were in search of field mice, or perhaps
something bigger. Hill and valley intertwined as
far as the eye could see. The geography brought
to Brownbeard’s recollection the Blue Ridge
Mountains he had visited when a boy. Except that
like the land they had just traveled over, there was
almost no color to excite the eye. Everything was
some shade of grey save that, here and there, a
smudge of brown struggled to peek out.
“Wow, this place does have a strange beauty to
it,” said Wilbert. “It’s like a charcoal and pencil
sketch.”
“It doesn’t look real,” said Kumquat.
“It wasn’t always like this,” said Felix. “There
use to be color. This should be the peak of spring.
The trees should be green and the sky blue.”
“There use to be color?” asked Brownbeard.
“Before Pewtrewsha and Morlox came to the
Land of Longing,” said Hazel.
“Yes,” agreed Felix.
“Wait a minute!” said Brownbeard stomping his
foot. “That’s too much! A sorceress can’t take the
color out of the trees and sky! I don’t believe it!”
Felix just shrugged his shoulders and said,
“That’s the story I was told.”
“She doesn’t take the color from the trees and
sky. I don’t know anyone that powerful except for
the One who put the color there in the first place,”
said Hazel. “But her evil is like a smog that
covers the land. A powerful sorceress can do that.
It’s how she makes it known you are in her
territory.”
“Hmmph!” was Brownbeard’s reply.
“Let’s get off this hill,” said Felix. “Those birds
seem to be winging over towards us. We should
get undercover of the trees before they get a good
look at us.”
“You mean they could be Pewtrewsha’s
spies?” asked Kumquat.
“Yes,” said Felix.
“Then it’s probably too late to hide,” said
Brownbeard. “Birds have pretty keen eyesight.”
“True,” said Hazel, “but let’s get off this hilltop
anyway. We’re very exposed up here.”
Indeed, the birds did take an interest in the
party as they hiked down into the forest. What
remaining daylight shone was snuffed out by the
shadow of dark wood. The For Sale crew did their
best to stumble along the path Felix led them.
Coming to a small, level space where not too
many trees crowded together, Felix stopped.
“Do you want to set up camp here, Captain?”
Felix asked.
“I guess this would be as good a place as any,”
answered Brownbeard.
The gang used sails from the For Sale to make
their tents. They built a small fire and began to
prepare supper. It became quite cold. Everyone
gathered close to the fire trying to soak up its light
and warmth. All except Brownbeard scarfed down
dinner hungrily. Brownbeard had a hard time
swallowing the valley slug stew Kumquat and
Schmoor had prepared under Felix’s expert
direction. The stew was garnished with wild
onions found around the camp and some potatoes
they had brought along from the For Sale. They
mopped up the stew from their plates with sea
biscuits.
“Mmmmm,” said Felix. “Having cooking
utensils opens up entirely new culinary
possibilities! This is great!”
Everyone except Brownbeard agreed.
“I have an idea!” said Wilbert excitedly. “Let’s
tell ghost stories!”
“Are you crazy!” hissed Kumquat. “I’m scared
of this place enough as it is!”
“I agree with Kumquat,” said Hazel. “This is
not the time or place to get everyone even more
worked up.”
Schmoor smacked Wilbert on the back of the
head.
“Sorry,” said Wilbert defensively. “Just trying
to think of ways to amuse ourselves.”
“I have a better idea,” said Brownbeard. “How
about we clean up from dinner and then get some
sleep. Hazel and Kumquat, why don’t you take the
first watch? Wilbert, you and I will take the
middle watch. And Felix and Schmoor will take
the final watch.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” agreed Hazel,
as did everyone else as well. Everyone else
except Wilbert, that is, who wanted to tell ghost
stories for some strange reason.
* * *
“Psssst! Brownie! Wake-up!” said Hazel softly
as she gently shook him by the shoulder.
Brownbeard stirred and sat up blinking.
“How’d the first watch go?” he asked.
“I don’t like this place,” answered Hazel. “The
feeling that we’re being watched is stronger than
ever. I tried to use my magic to see into the forest,
but I can’t penetrate the gloom. Pewtrewsha’s
powers are strong even many miles from her lair.”
Brownbeard shivered involuntarily.
“Hey! Troll! Get up now!” said Kumquat as she
pinched Wilbert’s nose shut until he woke up
gasping for breath, his eye’s bulging in fear.
“Wha! What?” said Wilbert as he jumped out
of his blankets. When he realized who he was and
where he was, he looked at Kumquat.
“You are a mangy scourge on a sea monkey’s
hindquarters,” said Wilbert.
“The mangiest alley cat is royalty compared to
the noblest troll,” said Kumquat haughtily. “Now
be quiet and take your turn.”
“Captain Brownbeard,” said Wilbert, “I am
sorry, but I think I will now have to throttle one of
your crew.”
“If I’m as bad as you say I am Wilbert,” said
Kumquat, “do you think Santa will bring me coal
for my stockings? Or an ugly, talking troll such as
yourself?”
“Easy there, Wilbert,” said Brownbeard.
“Kumquat, get yourself to bed and quit causing
trouble.”
“Good luck you two,” said Hazel as she tucked
herself into her blankets with Kumquat curled up
at her feet.
“Oh really?” said Hazel to Kumquat. “Should I
let a cat as spoiled rotten as you curl up at my
feet?”
“Hazel!” said Kumquat in shock, her upper lip
beginning to quiver.
Hazel plopped her tired head down and a
tentative Kumquat resumed her position at her
mistress’ feet. Brownbeard and Wilbert settled
into their watch. They talked for awhile about
various topics such as what kind of eats and
drinks they liked, why Wilbert had decided to
abandon life under his bridge waiting to accost
unlucky travelers who happened to pass over, why
Brownbeard did not become a fisherman like his
father, and so on and so forth. About halfway into
their watch, Wilbert began to doze off and
Brownbeard decided to let him sleep, thinking it
would be okay to keep watch alone.
Brownbeard whistled softly to himself to while
away the time. Wilbert and the rest of the group
snored on. He gave himself some math problems
to do, using the dirt at the edge of the fire as a
blackboard and his finger as chalk. Brownbeard
decided to practice his long division. He worked
and worked at different problems as he softly
sang. Then, the numbers began to sing along with
Brownbeard! He watched in delight as the little
numbers danced about to the tune they sang
together. They would dance and shimmy into
position so that whatever question Brownbeard
thought of, the numbers would solve the problem
themselves! In this manner, Brownbeard solved
many long division problems with huge numbers
that great mathematicians have yet to even
imagine. For example, what is
1,098,098,345,098,345,099,898,798,798,787,234
divided by 978,789,019,287,574,573,488,458?
Unfortunately, Brownbeard would not remember
any of these challenges or their solutions once he
awoke.
Bang!
Gunshot shattered the silent night.
“Huh!?! What!?!” shouted a distressed
Brownbeard as he snapped to attention. The crew
of the For Sale peered up from their blankets and
blinked. Many large black figures surrounded the
little group.
“Oh! No! The black soldiers!” cried Wilbert
and Kumquat.
One of the black soldiers, larger and blacker
than all the rest, with pistols draped along his sash
in a diagonal across his chest, and pistols and
knives of all kinds around his entire belt, stepped
into the tiny circle of light provided by the small
fire. The huge man’s back was turned to
Brownbeard. The other dark figures stood outside
the circle of light, but their shadowy outlines
could be seen and their menacing presence felt.
The crew of the For Sale felt very trapped—which
in fact they were.
“Who ye rascals be?” boomed the black clad
figure.
Brownbeard swallowed hard. He guessed it was
his job to speak up for the group since he held the
title of Captain.
“I’m Captain Brownbeard of the For Sale,” said
Brownbeard as courageously as possible. “These
are my crew. Who are you?”
“None of your business ye traitorous
scoundrel!” said the man. Then, turning upon his
heel very slowly in Brownbeard’s direction, the
large, menacing figure continued, “But tell me this!
Since when does a land lubbin’ accountant take on
to become a sea farin’ Captain just like that?”
“B.B.?” said Brownbeard uncertainly.
“B.B.?” said the man mockingly. Then he let
out a hearty laugh.
“B.B.!” shouted Brownbeard in surprise,
jumping to his feet.
The rest of the For Sale crew looked on in
amazement as Brownbeard and the large man
dressed black as midnight stepped towards one
another, embracing as if they had known each
other for a very long time. Which, of course, they
had.
towards the fortress of Pewtrewsha and Morlox.
Now, as the sun began to set behind them, the
third night of their journey approached. The
energy that they mustered up at the beginning of
their trek was not totally depleted, but it was
fading fast.
“Captain Brownbeard,” said Felix.
“Yes, Felix?”
“Um, I don’t know, but Pewtrewsha’s soldiers
usually don’t patrol this close to the sea.”
“Right,” said Brownbeard. “So?”
“Well, they might come out this far if they were
on a hunt,” said Felix.
“Right,” said Brownbeard. “What kind of hunt?”
“A hunt for children,” answered Wilbert.
“Right,” said Felix.
“Oh. Do you think they’re on a hunt now?”
asked Brownbeard. “Do you think we’re in danger
of running into a hunting party?”
“I normally wouldn’t think so. I am being
careful to avoid all roads and villages I know of,”
said Felix. “That should keep us out of sight and
hearing for a few more days.”
“Good,” said Brownbeard.
“But I’ve got a weird feeling,” said Felix. “I
think maybe we’re being watched.”
Kumquat’s, Wilbert’s and Schmoor’s eyes
widened.
“Watched?” asked Kumquat. “You mean by
Pewtrewsha’s soldiers?”
“I don’t know,” said Felix. “Pewtrewsha has
spies all over the Land of Longing. She may
already know we are coming.”
“I haven’t seen any spies,” observed Wilbert.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t recall seeing any
other living creatures in this awful place!”
“You wouldn’t see her spies!” said Kumquat.
“That’s why they’re called spies!”
“Felix is right,” said Hazel. “I’ve had strange
feelings that we’re being watched ever since we
stepped foot in the Land of Longing.”
“You guys are giving me the shivers,” said
Brownbeard. “Well, let’s all make sure to keep
extra vigilant. From now on, when we set up
camp, we’ll double the night watch from one
person to two.”
The six were working to make it up a long
incline littered with boulders. Everyone was
huffing and puffing. They had been walking uphill
for several miles. Finally, they reached the top.
From this vantage point, the group could look
back across the way they had come. A hint of the
ocean was just visible. Up to that thin line on the
horizon, there was nothing but steel-hued, jagged
spars and rocky plain. Then, the land bored of its
own monotony and gave over to the water.
Before them lay a wooded valley which was the
first visible sign of life, besides lichens and
mosses, they had seen since beginning their march.
A pair of large black birds soaring just above the
tree tops were in search of field mice, or perhaps
something bigger. Hill and valley intertwined as
far as the eye could see. The geography brought
to Brownbeard’s recollection the Blue Ridge
Mountains he had visited when a boy. Except that
like the land they had just traveled over, there was
almost no color to excite the eye. Everything was
some shade of grey save that, here and there, a
smudge of brown struggled to peek out.
“Wow, this place does have a strange beauty to
it,” said Wilbert. “It’s like a charcoal and pencil
sketch.”
“It doesn’t look real,” said Kumquat.
“It wasn’t always like this,” said Felix. “There
use to be color. This should be the peak of spring.
The trees should be green and the sky blue.”
“There use to be color?” asked Brownbeard.
“Before Pewtrewsha and Morlox came to the
Land of Longing,” said Hazel.
“Yes,” agreed Felix.
“Wait a minute!” said Brownbeard stomping his
foot. “That’s too much! A sorceress can’t take the
color out of the trees and sky! I don’t believe it!”
Felix just shrugged his shoulders and said,
“That’s the story I was told.”
“She doesn’t take the color from the trees and
sky. I don’t know anyone that powerful except for
the One who put the color there in the first place,”
said Hazel. “But her evil is like a smog that
covers the land. A powerful sorceress can do that.
It’s how she makes it known you are in her
territory.”
“Hmmph!” was Brownbeard’s reply.
“Let’s get off this hill,” said Felix. “Those birds
seem to be winging over towards us. We should
get undercover of the trees before they get a good
look at us.”
“You mean they could be Pewtrewsha’s
spies?” asked Kumquat.
“Yes,” said Felix.
“Then it’s probably too late to hide,” said
Brownbeard. “Birds have pretty keen eyesight.”
“True,” said Hazel, “but let’s get off this hilltop
anyway. We’re very exposed up here.”
Indeed, the birds did take an interest in the
party as they hiked down into the forest. What
remaining daylight shone was snuffed out by the
shadow of dark wood. The For Sale crew did their
best to stumble along the path Felix led them.
Coming to a small, level space where not too
many trees crowded together, Felix stopped.
“Do you want to set up camp here, Captain?”
Felix asked.
“I guess this would be as good a place as any,”
answered Brownbeard.
The gang used sails from the For Sale to make
their tents. They built a small fire and began to
prepare supper. It became quite cold. Everyone
gathered close to the fire trying to soak up its light
and warmth. All except Brownbeard scarfed down
dinner hungrily. Brownbeard had a hard time
swallowing the valley slug stew Kumquat and
Schmoor had prepared under Felix’s expert
direction. The stew was garnished with wild
onions found around the camp and some potatoes
they had brought along from the For Sale. They
mopped up the stew from their plates with sea
biscuits.
“Mmmmm,” said Felix. “Having cooking
utensils opens up entirely new culinary
possibilities! This is great!”
Everyone except Brownbeard agreed.
“I have an idea!” said Wilbert excitedly. “Let’s
tell ghost stories!”
“Are you crazy!” hissed Kumquat. “I’m scared
of this place enough as it is!”
“I agree with Kumquat,” said Hazel. “This is
not the time or place to get everyone even more
worked up.”
Schmoor smacked Wilbert on the back of the
head.
“Sorry,” said Wilbert defensively. “Just trying
to think of ways to amuse ourselves.”
“I have a better idea,” said Brownbeard. “How
about we clean up from dinner and then get some
sleep. Hazel and Kumquat, why don’t you take the
first watch? Wilbert, you and I will take the
middle watch. And Felix and Schmoor will take
the final watch.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” agreed Hazel,
as did everyone else as well. Everyone else
except Wilbert, that is, who wanted to tell ghost
stories for some strange reason.
* * *
“Psssst! Brownie! Wake-up!” said Hazel softly
as she gently shook him by the shoulder.
Brownbeard stirred and sat up blinking.
“How’d the first watch go?” he asked.
“I don’t like this place,” answered Hazel. “The
feeling that we’re being watched is stronger than
ever. I tried to use my magic to see into the forest,
but I can’t penetrate the gloom. Pewtrewsha’s
powers are strong even many miles from her lair.”
Brownbeard shivered involuntarily.
“Hey! Troll! Get up now!” said Kumquat as she
pinched Wilbert’s nose shut until he woke up
gasping for breath, his eye’s bulging in fear.
“Wha! What?” said Wilbert as he jumped out
of his blankets. When he realized who he was and
where he was, he looked at Kumquat.
“You are a mangy scourge on a sea monkey’s
hindquarters,” said Wilbert.
“The mangiest alley cat is royalty compared to
the noblest troll,” said Kumquat haughtily. “Now
be quiet and take your turn.”
“Captain Brownbeard,” said Wilbert, “I am
sorry, but I think I will now have to throttle one of
your crew.”
“If I’m as bad as you say I am Wilbert,” said
Kumquat, “do you think Santa will bring me coal
for my stockings? Or an ugly, talking troll such as
yourself?”
“Easy there, Wilbert,” said Brownbeard.
“Kumquat, get yourself to bed and quit causing
trouble.”
“Good luck you two,” said Hazel as she tucked
herself into her blankets with Kumquat curled up
at her feet.
“Oh really?” said Hazel to Kumquat. “Should I
let a cat as spoiled rotten as you curl up at my
feet?”
“Hazel!” said Kumquat in shock, her upper lip
beginning to quiver.
Hazel plopped her tired head down and a
tentative Kumquat resumed her position at her
mistress’ feet. Brownbeard and Wilbert settled
into their watch. They talked for awhile about
various topics such as what kind of eats and
drinks they liked, why Wilbert had decided to
abandon life under his bridge waiting to accost
unlucky travelers who happened to pass over, why
Brownbeard did not become a fisherman like his
father, and so on and so forth. About halfway into
their watch, Wilbert began to doze off and
Brownbeard decided to let him sleep, thinking it
would be okay to keep watch alone.
Brownbeard whistled softly to himself to while
away the time. Wilbert and the rest of the group
snored on. He gave himself some math problems
to do, using the dirt at the edge of the fire as a
blackboard and his finger as chalk. Brownbeard
decided to practice his long division. He worked
and worked at different problems as he softly
sang. Then, the numbers began to sing along with
Brownbeard! He watched in delight as the little
numbers danced about to the tune they sang
together. They would dance and shimmy into
position so that whatever question Brownbeard
thought of, the numbers would solve the problem
themselves! In this manner, Brownbeard solved
many long division problems with huge numbers
that great mathematicians have yet to even
imagine. For example, what is
1,098,098,345,098,345,099,898,798,798,787,234
divided by 978,789,019,287,574,573,488,458?
Unfortunately, Brownbeard would not remember
any of these challenges or their solutions once he
awoke.
Bang!
Gunshot shattered the silent night.
“Huh!?! What!?!” shouted a distressed
Brownbeard as he snapped to attention. The crew
of the For Sale peered up from their blankets and
blinked. Many large black figures surrounded the
little group.
“Oh! No! The black soldiers!” cried Wilbert
and Kumquat.
One of the black soldiers, larger and blacker
than all the rest, with pistols draped along his sash
in a diagonal across his chest, and pistols and
knives of all kinds around his entire belt, stepped
into the tiny circle of light provided by the small
fire. The huge man’s back was turned to
Brownbeard. The other dark figures stood outside
the circle of light, but their shadowy outlines
could be seen and their menacing presence felt.
The crew of the For Sale felt very trapped—which
in fact they were.
“Who ye rascals be?” boomed the black clad
figure.
Brownbeard swallowed hard. He guessed it was
his job to speak up for the group since he held the
title of Captain.
“I’m Captain Brownbeard of the For Sale,” said
Brownbeard as courageously as possible. “These
are my crew. Who are you?”
“None of your business ye traitorous
scoundrel!” said the man. Then, turning upon his
heel very slowly in Brownbeard’s direction, the
large, menacing figure continued, “But tell me this!
Since when does a land lubbin’ accountant take on
to become a sea farin’ Captain just like that?”
“B.B.?” said Brownbeard uncertainly.
“B.B.?” said the man mockingly. Then he let
out a hearty laugh.
“B.B.!” shouted Brownbeard in surprise,
jumping to his feet.
The rest of the For Sale crew looked on in
amazement as Brownbeard and the large man
dressed black as midnight stepped towards one
another, embracing as if they had known each
other for a very long time. Which, of course, they
had.
The Adventures of Short Stubbly Brownbeard
Alan J. Levine
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Buy yer hard copy
at . . .
at . . .
Want to support
children's literature?
That's great! But
instead, why don't you
go to the followin'
links to buy yer own
miserable copy of
Brownbeard and
support Pirates
Anonymous? We've
been assisting pirates
with mental health and
hygiene issues since
1633. Brownbeard is
also available to
schools and libraries
through wholesalers
like Follett, Ingram,
and Baker & Taylor.
children's literature?
That's great! But
instead, why don't you
go to the followin'
links to buy yer own
miserable copy of
Brownbeard and
support Pirates
Anonymous? We've
been assisting pirates
with mental health and
hygiene issues since
1633. Brownbeard is
also available to
schools and libraries
through wholesalers
like Follett, Ingram,
and Baker & Taylor.
