Текст книги "Рыжик-мореплаватель / Ginger, the sailor"

44. To America!

Aboard the ship they saw one another almost simultaneously. Serga was back from his holiday, Ginger was back after some time on the coast.

"Are you back, old boy?" Serga looked happy and excited. " My biggest regret was that I 11 never see you again, that you've dropped anchor at last!"

"I’m feeling utterly miserable." chirped the sparrow. Serga being very sensitive caught a strong feeling of grief in his voice.

"What's happened, old boy?.. It appears you've lost your friend…"

"Why should I live? Why?" expressed the sparrow deep sorrow.

"Has it been eaten by a cat?… Poor boy! Come flying over here. I’ve brought some seeds… just in case."

Serga stretched his hand towards the bird. Oily sunflower seeds blackened his dry calloused palm. And that worked wonders! The sparrow landed on Serga's palm. The bird didn't eat but it twittered and flew away onto the stern into its own secluded corner.

"Oh, dear!" Sighing happily Serga brushed away his tears. "It seems life has hard hit you as you rejected seeds…"

Serga flung the treatment overboard and went to his cabin to get some sleep. At that time the cargo ship was weighing anchor and sailing for San Francisco, America.

"It's going to be a very long voyage!" said the bosun. "Six thousand miles to go, more than ten thousand kilometers. We used to sail along the Pacific but now we are going to cross it."

45. Meetings in the Ocean

In time even people reconcile themselves to their share of sorrows. Ginger buried those memories deep inside his tiny heart and again turned into the former prankster who was loved by everybody.

Their sailing was long. There were not many islands along the way but a lot of ships passed by. The cargo ship was following a "busy route" connecting Asia and North America.

Ginger was keen on inspecting the waters ahead! The weather being fine it used to take his seat on the mast, being on the alert. The immense blue of the waves accompanied by green cups spread as far as one could catch sight of it. Heading for the right a bright sun was shining. There were not even seagulls in such a remote place. Seagulls usually jam the coast to build nests there.

A tiny spot was heaving into sight.

"A ship! A ship!" the sparrow chirps.

"Our inspector has seen something!" the sailors smile.

They know for sure that the intelligent cockpit controls spotted an oncoming vehicle a long time ago, they even discovered who was approaching, whose flag was waving, which rate of knots they were sailing at. But Ginger knows nothing about it and no one wants to disappoint the bird.

"Good boy, Ginger! Watch for those coming in the opposite direction!" A bit later one could see the faint outline of a strange boat.

"An oil tanker!" the sailors expressed disappointment. "A can" filled with crude oil".

It is so much the better when a same cargo ship or a luxury snow-white liner pass by. The mates equip themselves with binoculars and make a thorough examination of passengers aboard.

Ginger doesn't need a pair of glasses. He has such a good eyesight and such a good field of vision that the decks of the oncoming ship are clearly spread before his eyes. That bears a striking resemblance to his hometown – crowds of people on the streets and most of them wear white feathery clothing.

Both at the swimming pool and on the beaches of the hometown people take off their clothing and throw themselves half-naked into sun-loungers.

Drawing nearer the ships salute one another having their flags at half-mast.

Ginger gets excited jumping up and down and cheering and screaming at the top of its voice, "Hey, those in the swimming pool!" You've lost your feathery clothing, clothing…"

Snatching the glasses out of each other's hands the young mates exclaim in admiration, "Look, what a brown-head!"

"Come on, you can't have examined her hair carefully in that distance!"

"I'd better watch!"

Spring will impact equally on everybody!

One day Ginger started twittering so loudly that the sailors had to crane their necks to see what was happening.

"Why are you shouting at the top of your voice as if you're being killed?"

"The whales are having a fight!" Ginger flitted from one mast to the other.

Ginger has seen those huge bulks several times. But he's never seen loving couples frolicking around.

The most formidable creatures in the world were pretending they were nearly drowning one another, splashing their tails through the water, fooling around altogether.

"This is what they are doing! the bosun shook his head. "Three metres of fat on each side but passion is penetrating their hearts!"

46. Secrets aboard

Being curious since his childhood Ginger from time to time, like all sparrows, poked its nose into something that was not his business. More than anything else Ginger was attracted by a kitchen or a galley as it was called on the ship.

A heavy cook gets out of the galley carrying bones for Changa and crumbs for Ginger.

The sparrow was eager to know how bones were being produced. It gave penetrating a try but each time that awful cook chased the sparrow away with a towel.

"Shoo, shoo, the ship's company!" the cook knit his brows. "Aren't you going to take a pee into the borsch?"

"Help! Help! I’m being killed!" Ginger twittered, flittering across the mast.

But what was it? Neither Changa nor Serga in such cases rushed to their bird's help. "It seemed the cook gave them both quite a big scare. Here is the most important person aboard!" that idea struck Ginger's mind.

One day Ginger flew into the open door of the wheel-house, saw the helmsman steering the ship, the captain, looking into the distance, the navigator, studying the map. The sparrow found nothing interesting there – neither crumps nor seeds.

"What are you thinking of? Ginger twitted. "You'd better work, work!" he flew away.

"What an occurrence! The captain exclaimed." He's still alive and kicking!"

"Alive and healthy!" the helmsman smiled. "He had disappeared without trace while in Nachodka then just turned up before the departure."

"Wonders will never cease!" The captain shook his head. " People won't believe when they hear."

But the oddest thing was that he happened to see at the bottom of the ship, in the engine-room. A cheeky seagull, rushing at him at the moment when there was nobody on the deck, was to blame. Neither Changa nor Serga was in sight.

Everybody got inside to escape the mid-day heat. Ginger dived twenty metres down into the open hole and with bated breath he sat down on the ship's ladder.

The gangway stretched downwards, and the sparrow knew from his previous experience: the deeper you get, the more worms you have. It used to be this way in damp ravines out of town… It might be the same way here?

Casting a glance now and then at a blue small rectangle of the sky Ginger also looked downstairs. Something was buzzing and growling there resembling that huge unfamiliar dog he had seen in his dream at his first night aboard. But so far after so many days in the open sea "the dog" hadn’t come out, and the sparrow got used to her constant growling. She wasn’t heard only at the moorings of the dry cargo ship; at any other time that mysterious creature growled and snarled day and night. She hadn’t eaten anyone yet.

With a sinking heart Ginger jumped one step down, then again and again – there he saw an enormous interior of the steamer, lit by a pale light of the neon lamps. It looked as if there were several dogs. Every dog was locked in a large iron kennel and was flatly growling inside. The general growling was loud, but now it wasn’t frightening at all.

"And now, you devils of the sea! Locked in here?" Ginger chirped in a triumphant manner. – Now you understand!

At that time he spotted the motorist walking along the passageway and looking at this or that kennel.

"Stand from under!" Ginger chirped to himself and began to rush about the engine room. He was afraid of being eaten by those frights… They needed some food after all.

The chief mechanic of the ship entered the room and knitted his brows.

"Who let this little devil in? It will hurt his wings!"

The motorists left the room on tiptoes and Ginger calmed down. He sat down on some pipe, it turned out to be hot, and the poor sparrow had to fly up to his beloved deck.

"Hot! Hot!" the poor thing chirped, hovering over the deck not daring to sit on his burnt legs. Luckily there was some water left in his bowl, he lowered into it and was there till the pain was relieved.

The dry cargo ship was making its way through the great Pacific. Day and night the powerful diesels were working in the engine room, the diesels that Ginger had taken for awesome growling dogs, each locked in its own kennel. The diesels were rotating a huge shaft with a heavy screw on the end. The screw went round pushing the ship forward and the dry cargo ship hurried to the far-and-away shores, fighting opposing waves and underwater currents.

You could find everything in the enormous holds of the dry cargo ship! From one country to another, from one continent to another it carried machines and cars, grain and bananas, coffee and rubber, sugar and tea… Similar ships are sailing night and day all over the world, and at the same time steamship companies in various countries witness the following telephone calls:

"Hello! Hello! I’d like to carry 300 tons of metal from Antwerp to Buenos Aires."

"And I need to carry rolling mill from New York to Calcutta."

"And I’m in a desperate need to carry cork tree from Brazil to Spain."

It’s good that the Internet has arrived. Smart computers define in no time what ship can carry your cargo the quickest and inform the captain:

"Sir! Do you mind taking the consignment of Russian timber on your way and take it to Mexico?"

O course, the captain won’t be against it: who wants to sail without a load?

"Yes, sir," the captain says. "We’ll be in due time."

And it’s not very important what flag the ship has. For those who send cargo the most important thing is to have it delivered safely intact on time.

47. Insidious lawn

It was night when the dry cargo ship arrived in San-Francisco; there were so many searchlights in the port and the work was so noisy that Ginger woke up earlier and began chirping loudly half-awake:

"What’s up? What’s up? Is it a day already? Is it?"

"You are an early riser, my dear" Serga said on hearing the sparrow chirp above him.

Ginger nearly stopped being afraid of that grey-haired sailor with an ear-ring after the event in Nakhodka. He even tried to be closer to the man or to Changa. The dog was still the best friend of the sparrow, and then when it lost its puppies, and Ginger lost his Pinchi, they became more devoted friends.

"Are we on shore? On shore?" Ginger asked excitedly.

He felt pretty tired of the long voyage, the sparrow soul was eager to be ashore. Unlike the deck it doesn’t swing, it is covered with grass and is full of different crawling tasty things – worms, insects, caterpillars…

"San-Francisco," Serga explained. "America, my boy."

The day was breaking. Ginger, fluttering over the masts of the ships, saw a part of the sun and a huge city sinking in the morning haze.

"Land! Land!" He cried out loudly and merrily as if he were the sailor of Columbus who was the first to see America. (To tell the truth, that very sailor saw America from its other side, eastern, and mistook it for India.)

"We’ve come, we’ve come," Serga understood in his way. "As soon as we’ve finished with unloading, we’ll go ashore."

Ginger didn’t like San-Francisco. The city was so large and bustling, there were so many round-legged creatures running along grey roads that Ginger had his head swim.

"What a fuss!" He chirped. "The dry cargo ship is better."

"Is it noisy? Noisy, dear?" Serga guessed. "It’ll be quieter, wait a bit."

Soon they came to a lawn surrounded by neatly cut bushes and rear beautiful trees.

"Well. What will you say, devils?" Asked satisfied Serga.

"Marvelous! Marvelous!" Ginger chirped and flew down to the grass to catch insects and caterpillars.

Changa ran about happily. The sailor took off his boots and lay to the grass under a tree. The three were happy.

Ginger however was considered to be a fidget. After some time he got bored of the place and having flown up the tree he began to take a view of the environs. Nearby there was another lawn, bigger than the first one, and the sparrow flew there without warning anybody. The lawn was nearly empty excluding two senior citizens standing at some distance with the sticks in their hands.

"Hey! Old folks!" Chirped Ginger. "Go and lie on the grass as my Serga is doing while I am jumping here on your lawn."

So he began to jump on the thick, neatly-cut fresh grass. Meanwhile one of the aged lifted his stick and with all his might struck it against a white ball, which was the size of a big egg. It was a heavy blow. The ball flew like a small cannon-ball over the lawn and landed in a centimeter from Ginger.

In fright Ginger chirped briefly "Help!", flushed and flew down only near his faithful Changa.

"What’s going on? What’s going on?" Sputtered Ginger. "The balls are falling right from the sky! In my land boys are always shooting at sparrows from their slingshots, while here the old folks – with balls."

Changa was listening to him with his splendid tongue hanging out.

"Why are you looking at me, scarecrow?" Ginger felt offended. "I’ve nearly been killed and you don’t care. Well, you are a friend!"

The dog smiled at the sparrow slightly showing (its)her splendid white teeth, raised her head and picked up her ears. Two old men with the golf sticks on their shoulders were coming towards them across the lawn.

"Here they are coming! The very same!" Ginger yelled. "Bite them, Changa! Bite them!"

The old men were peacefully talking.

"Your final kick was rather good, sir. Fifty yards, not less."

"It’s funny, but the ball almost knocked off some red sparrow."

Ginger was trembling with impatience:

"What are you waiting for? Catch them, catch!"

Changa stood still, sniffed the air… and all of a sudden started wagging its tail. The old man was followed by a big, shaggy Newfoundland as black as Changa but with a white spot on its broad breast.

Ginger flew up to the tree where Serga was talking a nap and assessed the situation at once.

"Only admires on your mind! Only admires! You’d better intercede for poor Ginger…"

Just at that moment the white-breasted dog noticed Changa. From a distance it seemed that a stranger invaded its territory – Changa looked so fattened thanks to the sailors. Meaning to teach the stranger a lesson it growled and threw at the competitor. But coming closer the stranger found out that the competitor was a… female!

"Pardon, me!" he spoke his dog language, understandable to any other dog in any country of the world. "I’ve expected to meet… a gentleman, but met a lady."

"You’re not very courteous with travelers here," replied Changa coldly.

"Oh! Are you traveling madam? Who accompanies you, may I ask?"

"My master is having a rest under the tree," said Changa turning its head in the direction of Serga.

"And my master is that elderly man with a beard. Frankly speaking he’s rich. I eat a special paste for dogs and other delicacies every day."

"Our cook also treats me to delicious things." Changa demonstrated its winsome smile.

"It’s evidently seen." the admirer glanced with estimation. "I’ve never in my life met such fattened females."

They were running side by side, not knowing where and what for.

"Stewart! Stewart!" called the stranger’s master, but the dog didn’t hear him.

At that time Serga woke up.

"Changa! Changa!" he called, with the same result.

"Excuse me, sir. Are you that dog’s master?" asked the second man.

"I am," proudly replied Serga. He was rising just.

He spoke all the languages of the world… a little bit.

"Please, excuse our dog, but you see he’s infatuated."

"I see. I used to be young myself."

"Oh, yes, yes!" the elderly man smiled. "Hope, your vaccination…"

"By all means!" Serga replied, sincerely looking at the stranger.

"Breed?"

"High class!" he assumed a dignified air. "Medalist of the Australian dog breeders club."

And he told them the name of the club. On hearing it, he smiled from ear to ear.

"Ok!" he exclaimed, and went to share the news with his partner.

…In the evening the dry cargo ship’s crew witnessed an unforgettable show. An expensive cadillac approached the very ladder. Serga was slightly drunk, was extracted from the car and accepted by the sailors with honours. He was followed by a pleased Changa with Ginger sitting solemnly on its back.

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" he twittered, being extremely pleased with abundant fodder for canaries. "A nice country, very nice!"

48. Pretty Girls from Panama

And then the dry cargo ship sailed along the sea sides of Mexico, Guatemala, Nicaragua, San Hose, and at last it reached Panama.

"Here is the middle of America, guys!" Serga said, pointing the bay with plenty of ships from all the country of the world. "God created it one and indivisible and people had digged out a canal that divided it into two continents.

"Is it useless?"

"Oh, no. I don’t mean that. The Panama Canal is very important. You have to pass only 80 km and you are in the Atlantic ocean, in the Caribbean sea. But if you go round – along Colombia, Peru, Chile to Terra del Fuego, and the back along Argentina, Brazil, Venezuela, you’ll have to pass thousands of miles.

"Great!"

"On the other hand, we won’t be able to see lots of interesting sights, friends," the Earring gave a sigh. "I’ve been to Brazil, to Belen. It’s in the mouth of the Amazon. You can’t be impressed. The Amazon has about 500 tributaries and all of them are navigable.

"You don’t say so!"

"That’s true. The Amazon is twice as long as the Nile, the Mississippi, the Tigris and the Euphrates taken together. It’s the king of rivers, indeed."

"Are there any anacondas in the Amazon?"

"Anacondas, piranhas and millions of other creatures. There are lots of them in the water as well as on land. Leopards, tapirs, ant-eaters… And by the way, as for ants – you won’t believe me, friends. They are as big as my finger." and the Earring showed them his little finger. "They are called termits. Their houses are as big as a stove in a country house.

The dry cargo ship had spent twenty-four hours letting ships coming from the opposite direction through and, at last, entered the famous Panama canal.

It was hot and sunny. Ginger felt that they were approaching the tropics. Ginger was sitting on the top of the mast trying to make out the thick southern brushwood in the distance, picking up the scent of unknown flowers, listening to the loud shouting of monkeys and parrots…

The canal was so narrow that the ship seemed to be sailing through the thick forest looking very much like the Ceylon jungles. Everything was beautiful here, thousands of bright-coloured butterflies were fluttering and hundreds of various birds were flying in the sky.

"How beautiful they are!" chirped Ginger and followed these birds of paradise with his eyes.

One of them joined Ginger on the mast and whispered languorously:

"Are you a mach-cho? Mach-cho?"

"Pardon," said Ginger. "What do you mean?"

Her feathers were pearly-white and the bird looked very much like the inside of the pearl-oyster.

"You look like a pirate that had gone through fire and water." said the stranger examining Ginger from head to foot. "Oh… and I adore pirates."

"Well, I’m not very much of pirate." Ginger sounded embarrassed. "Hm, but we’ve sailed, fought and we’ve been to the jungles."

"I beg you to save me!" the bird moved closer to Ginger.

"Who from?"

"From loneliness, of course!" the pretty bird touched his beak with her wing.

The wing was long, beautiful and iridescent.

"What shall I do?" said Ginger, he sounded ready to help.

"We’ll fly to those blooming trees where we’ll be happy on the lianas of love."

Charmed Ginger was about to accompany the wonderful stranger to the lianas of love, but heard another, even more pleasant voice.

"Where are you going to, noble prince?"

Ginger turned round and almost full down from the mast. His new admirer was even better than the first one and the wonderful little crest on her head looked like a crown and seemed to belong to a princess.

"Will you fly with me?" Ginger heard another tender voice.

Ginger was impressed and couldn’t say a word. The third bird was golden like a drop of the sun, her luxurious tail having two long feathers with small bits of bluffs at each end.

The poor sparrow didn’t know if he was coming or going and decided to fly with the beauties where his wings would take him but at that very moment the barking of the annoyed Changa came from the deck, the frightened birds flew away and again Ginger found himself alone on the deck.

"Come here, my dear", Serga called him, showing him a feeding-rack with sparrow delicacies.

Ginger thought it over for a moment and decided to fly down.

"What a clever sparrow!" praised him the senior sailor. "Our beauties will drive you mad! You will be lost in strange lands alone!"