Voyage of the Dolphin Read online

  Reb had been sleeping beside him. He crawled up and looked through the slats of the cage. What he saw was a huge brown rat. “That thing's bigger'n any dog I ever saw,” Reb breathed. “Look at those teeth!” It was an evil-looking creature, and Reb shivered. “I'd just as soon be in this cage as out there with him.”

  “Where'd he come from?”

  “Well, this house ain't too well built. He could've come in anywhere.” When Reb later spotted a hole near the floor, he said, “I reckon the rat came from there. I wish they'd set a rattrap. I don't fancy having that scoundrel around. Never could stand rats!”

  Breakfast was interrupted one morning as Gant came to watch Olina feed her charges. He observed closely as they ate, and then he turned about and began to speak.

  “These Little People,” Gant said in a voice of thunder, “are going to make us rich.”

  “What do you mean, Papa?” Olina asked. She looked fondly at the Little People. “What are you going to do?”

  “I'm going to sell them to rich people.”

  A chill went down Daybright's spine. He knew that most of the Sleepers, except for Josh, could understand little of the giants' language, but everybody appeared to understand that. Daybright and Dawn stared at each other in shock.

  “They're worth lots of money.” A crafty look came to Gant's thick face. “I'm going to take two of them.” He leaned over the table, and his eyes went from one to another. Finally he said, “I'll take these two.” His huge hands reached down, and he plucked up Dawn and the captain.

  His hands had a greasy feel and smelled terrible. Dawn began to cry, and Daybright struggled, but of course it was useless.

  Holding them high, Gant stared at the two. “I'll take these. You teach the rest to sing and dance.”

  “Don't take them, Papa. They'll be lonesome by themselves away from their friends.”

  “They're not people,” Gant said in surprise. “They're pets. You always cry over pets. When we ate your pet chicken, you cried for a week. No, I've got to have money.”

  Ignoring the pleas of his daughter, he put Daybright and Dawn in a carrying box. It was padded and had air holes punched in it, large enough to admit light. Still, when the top closed down, Dawn grabbed for Daybright and held onto him.

  “What's going to happen to us?” she whispered.

  Daybright did not answer. He had been in storms at sea and had faced many other dangers, but nothing in his experience was like this. He tried to think of a way to escape, but as the box swayed back and forth and he heard the giant saying good-bye to his family, he felt they had seen the last of the Sleepers.

  He sat down beside Dawn, and she fell against him. He held her, comforting her as he would a child. She was weeping, and he thought, Sometimes I wish a man could cry. It's about all I know to do in a fix like this.

  9

  Sold to the Highest Bidder

  For Dawn Catalina the journey from Gant's cottage to the city must have been one of the most terrifying events she'd ever known. Their prison admitted light through the holes, and Daybright was grateful for that. Total darkness would have been far too frightening for her. She clung to him, holding his big hand with both of hers as if she were a frightened child.

  The box rose up and down regularly as their giant captor swung along the road. After a time Daybright heard his big voice rumbling, and then they were jolted rudely as he shifted the box.

  By peering out one of the airholes, Daybright could see that apparently Gant had climbed onto a wagon. “I can see horses,” he reported, sitting back down. “Monsters they are, like everything else in this blasted place!”

  Instantly he regretted speaking harshly. The girl's frightened enough, he thought. Aloud he said cheerfully, “Well, look at it this way, Dawn. I thought we'd never get out of the Dolphin alive when that storm hit—but we did. Then, we had snake problems, and we got out of that. We've just got to have faith that we'll make it.”

  Dawn looked up at him quickly. “Sarah talks about faith—faith in Goel—but I don't have any. I've never had to.”

  “I guess wealthy folks don't need it—or don't think they do.”

  “They do, though. They're just like everybody else.”

  Daybright laughed suddenly. “I'll bet you never said that before.” He looked at her, grinning. “When's the last time you said, 'Those poor peasants out there are just like me'?”

  Dawn seemed to catch the humor of his remark. “I guess I never did,” she said.

  Suddenly the box gave a violent jolt as the wagon evidently hit a pothole, jarring Daybright so that his teeth ground together.

  “Oh!” Dawn moaned. “This is terrible. But you are right,” she continued. “I guess I do see things differently since being in this place. I'm really not very important after all.”

  “Because you're small?”

  “Why, yes.”

  Daybright thought for a moment, then he said, “Size doesn't mean anything. I knew a fellow once who was almost seven feet tall, a giant of a fellow. A giant in our world, that is. He was a good friend of mine, good at games, a hard worker. Not very much upstairs, but a nice fellow.

  “I had another friend who was tiny, not over five two or three, smart as a whip, always willing to help. Would you say he was worth less than the big man?”

  “Why, no, of course not.”

  “So being an important person is not a matter of inches. It's a matter of what's on the inside, and you've got more on the inside than that hulk of a Gant who's hauling us around. So that makes you important.”

  Dawn managed a smile. “It sounds nice when you say that, Daybright.”

  “Why don't you call me Ryland?” he said suddenly. “I feel like a servant or something when you call me by my last name.”

  “All right—Ryland. That's a nice name.” Dawn smiled. “I like it.”

  “It was my father's name. It'll be my son's too.”

  “Oh!” Dawn said. “You're married then?”

  “No, I'm not married.”

  “But—about a son?”

  “Oh, well, I'll have one someday—and daughters too. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I hope they have red hair like yours. I always liked red hair—hated mine.”

  “Your hair's very nice,” Dawn said quickly.

  Daybright kept the conversation going, mostly to keep up Dawn's spirits, and then finally he felt the wagon draw to a stop. “I guess we're here,” he said. “This is going to be hard.”

  “They won't separate us, will they?”

  “I hope not.” In his heart he was not at all sure. He knew that Gant would take the best offer made for them, and the thought of being cut off from his own kind forever brought a wrench. He knew that Dawn was thinking the same thing. “We'll be all right. Remember Goél. He knows how to help people in trouble. Trust him.”

  “All right, Ryland,” she said, “I'll try.”

  The box was yanked up, and the giant's voice boomed. They began moving again. Daybright heard Gant's heavy footsteps as he went up stairs and down long corridors. Then their prison was set down with a shock that drove both Daybright and Dawn to their knees.

  “This is it,” Daybright said. “Remember, don't let them see you show fear.”

  “All right, Ryland, I'll try,” she said again.

  There was considerable talking, and by looking through one of the air holes, Daybright could see what was going on. “It looks like he's gathered a group of prospective buyers.”

  “I've heard of slave markets, but I never thought I'd be involved in one,” Dawn whispered.

  At that moment, the box lid was lifted, and Gant called out loudly, “Look! Here they are—the miracle I told you about. See them!” Reaching down, he seized Daybright and Dawn and lifted them high.

  Accustomed as Daybright was to climbing tall masts that moved erratically in the winds, the sudden sweep upward caused him a moment's dizziness. He was held from the waist down in the grip
of the giant's huge hand, and as he looked around he saw a room filled with other giants wearing expensive-looking robes and jewelry that glittered. He observed quickly that in the ring on one of Gant's fingers was a diamond at least four inches across. That'd bring a king's ransom back in my country, he thought grimly and then forced himself to be still.

  Holding the captives high, Gant began his spiel. His sales pitch was that you can buy very few things that are rare. These Little People were the only ones of their kind.

  Dawn, held in the giant's other fist, glanced over at Daybright. “He's lying,” she said. “Why?”

  “To get more for us,” he said. “But don't try to interrupt him.”

  This would have been impossible, for at once an auction began. Daybright was familiar with village streets where vendors sold their wares, calling out their prices and arguing loudly with those who passed by—prospective buyers. Apparently these giants were used to such haggling over price. The sound of their voices was like thunder, and after a time Dawn put her hands over her ears.

  From time to time, one of the prospective buyers was allowed to hold them. One, an elderly giant with long skinny fingers, picked Dawn up and held her close to his nearsighted eyes. His beard was like pack ropes, and he had large eruptions on his face that made him repulsive. He prodded her with his forefinger and grunted. “Twenty-two gold pieces. My highest offer.”

  Gant snatched Dawn back and laughed loudly. “You're always searching for a bargain, sir, but that's not enough.”

  How long the bargaining went on, Daybright was not quite sure. But then a sudden silence came over the room. Gant placed his captives down on a table and tapped them with his finger to make them move about.

  Daybright looked up to see the crowd parting to make an aisle. Down the aisle strolled a man dressed in a blue robe with a massive gold chain around his neck and a crown on his thick white hair. He had a proud, lean face, and his voice broke over the room. “I have come to see your wares, Gant. I hear you have something unusual.”

  “Indeed, Sire. Look!”

  Gant pointed at his captives. “Have you ever seen anything like this, My King?”

  The king's sharp black eyes fixed on Daybright and Dawn. He advanced and stood over them. His lips drew into a tight line as he studied the pair. “Where did you find them?” he asked.

  “Close to the ocean. I think the sea washed them in.”

  “There must be others,” the king said.

  The giant shrugged his mountainous shoulders. “Perhaps, but they would be far away in another land.”

  The king hesitated only for a moment. “I will take them.”

  “But—but the price, My King …”

  The king shrugged. “You will have thirty pieces of gold. I'll take them with me now.”

  “But—but they're worth more, Your Majesty!”

  The king put his piercing eyes on Gant, who seemed to shrivel up.

  Gant cried, “No … I mean … thank you, Your Majesty, for your kindness.”

  “See that you keep a civil tongue in your head.” The king picked up Daybright and Dawn, one in each hand. His fingers squeezed so hard that both of them gasped. “You'll be a nice addition to my little museum,” he said.

  Daybright shouted, “Your Majesty, you must listen tome.”

  The king's eyes opened in surprise. “They talk! Well, it's to be expected. Do you sing?”

  “No, I don't sing.”

  “Do you sing?” The king lifted Dawn higher.

  “Y-yes, yes,” she stammered. “I sing a little.”

  “Good. I will have my dancing master teach you to dance. Then you can perform for me and my guests.” Without another word he put them down into the box and closed the lid.

  The darkness closed in again, and Daybright felt the box sway upward as they began the journey to the palace.

  After the king left, Gant took his payment from the king's steward. He gloated over the gold, feeling the smooth surface of the coins, then slipped it all into a leather bag.

  “Not enough, though!” A crafty look touched his eyes, and he thought, I'll make more from the rest of them. There be some that be as rich as the king. I'll sell them off one at a time. They'll fetch more that way.

  He left the village and started down the road. “This is the last time I'll go afoot,” he said. “I'll buy me horses and a carriage and go like the gentry do!”

  10

  “We're Not Animals!”

  Sarah awoke just before dawn to find the other Sleepers awake too. They had gone to bed early, had slept well, and now that early morning light was coming through the window, they were restless.

  “We'd better have a talk before Olina gets here,” Josh said. He stretched and stood to his feet, holding onto the slats of their cage. Even as he did he exclaimed, “There's one of those rats again. I can't stand those things!”

  “I expect most houses in this place have rats,” Jake said. “They're what brought the Black Plague on, you know. Killed about one-fourth of Europe.”

  “Jake, you say the awfulest things!” Sarah snapped. “Can't you think of anything pleasant to talk about?”

  “I don't know anything pleasant about rats, do you?” Jake growled angrily. He was irritable—as were the rest of them, Sarah noted—and now cast a discontented look at Josh. “We've got to do something! Sooner or later we've got to break out of this place.”

  “That's fine with me,” Josh said angrily. “What's your master plan for getting us out of here?”

  “I'm not the leader. You are.”

  “Please don't quarrel,” Abbey said. “I know it's hard, and we're all worried—but there's no sense fighting one another.”

  Sarah turned to look at Abbey, a smile on her face. She thought how the girl had changed since the Sleepers' last dangerous encounter where she had offered to give up her beauty for the sake of the others.

  “Abbey's right,” she said. “We can't quarrel among ourselves.”

  Jake ducked his head and muttered, “I'm sorry. I guess my nerves are a little bit stretched.”

  “Well, mine are too,” Reb said. “I feel like the time I was in the pokey for stealing hogs with my Uncle Seedy.”

  “You stole hogs?” Dave exclaimed.

  “Well, no, I didn't. My uncle did. I was just along to help him load them.”

  “Well, that makes you as guilty as he was, doesn't it?” Wash said.

  “What are you talking about? He stole 'em, I loaded 'em.” Reb's voice contained hurt innocence. “It's not against the law to load a hog—only if you steal him.”

  “I guess we'd better not get into the ethics of hog stealing right now,” Josh said. He turned and stared at the rat, which was disappearing into its hole. Then he turned back to face his friends. “We've got to escape all right— get away from this place.”

  “And what would we do then?” Dave asked. He had a practical streak in him. “We'd probably get eaten by a snake or a wolf or something. Going out there is like going into a zoo with the animals all loose.”

  “It would be better than staying here,” Reb insisted. “At least we'd have a chance. And I'm getting tired of being treated like a doll.”

  “Olina's a sweet girl,” Abbey spoke up at once. “She just doesn't understand that we are people and not toys.”

  “That's right.” Sarah nodded. “I think she's our only hope. We've got to try to persuade her to let us go.”

  “She'd never do that,” Reb said. “We're just like her toys. Besides, she'd be afraid of her father.”

  Finally Olina and her mother got up, and soon the Sleepers were eating breakfast—oatmeal and chunks of bread smeared with butter. Reb had whittled not only eating utensils for all of them but also trenchers to hold their food.

  Olina was delighted as always to see her Little People. She had learned all of their names, and they had become accustomed to her speech.

  In the middle of the morning she took them outside. She was very careful
where she let them play, for she had learned there were many enemies that could destroy her pets.

  As the Sleepers strolled around in the chest-high grass, Jake pointed out an anthill. The ants were huge, almost a foot long, and Reb cautioned him, “Don't get those things stirred up, Jake. I bet they could bite pretty hard. Little old fire ant back in the old days could hurt like blazes. I'd hate to think what one of these could do.”

  They were interested in watching the ants, however, giving Sarah a chance to talk to Olina. She had grown fond of the giant girl, and Olina had made a special pet of her.

  “Olina, I've got to talk to you!” she shouted.

  “All right.” Olina lay full length on the grass and turned her face upward.

  Her skin, smooth as it was, looked rough when viewed through Sarah's eyes. Sarah thought suddenly, If you enlarge anything, it looks worse. She remembered seeing a piece of fine silk through a microscope. It had looked like a tattered, rough, ugly blanket. So it was with the features of all the giants.

  “Olina, I want to talk to you about us.”

  Olina nodded. “I like you,” she said. “I'm so glad you came.”

  “I'm glad that you like us, but there's something you've got to understand.”

  “What's that, Sarah?”

  “Well, because we're small compared to you, you think of us as dolls or perhaps as one of your pets.”

  Olina loved pets. She had several birds in cages, and a puppy, and kittens in the barn that she was not allowed to bring into the house.

  “Yes, but you're my favorites of all,” she said.

  “But Olina,” Sarah said desperately, looking very serious. “Can't you see that I'm different from your puppy or from one of your birds?”

  “Oh, yes, I see that.” Olina smiled, nodding. She reached her finger out and carefully stroked Sarah's hair. “You're a lot smarter than them. They can't talk like you can.”

  Sarah felt a moment's helplessness wash over her. How was she to get the concept of her humanity into the head of this young girl who had never seen anything like the Sleepers?