Stirring Adventures and Mad Mods! Saving the world one questionable decision at a time.
This entry is part of a series, Voyage to Antafrica» In which the children have too much and too little imagination to enjoy their meal.
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The next morning the twins found something in their net. They called it a fish, for it wriggled and had fins and lived in water. However, the fins (there were six) were evenly spaced around the back of the thing, making a ringed sort of tail. It had three eyes on either side of its head, and a great rounded lower lip that protruded over its upper lip. It was a rusty orange-pink in color, with a pattern of pale purple spots beginning lightly at its head and intensifying so that it was mostly purple at the tail.
Mirabelle held it in the net while Annabelle hit its head with the side of the pick. She worked quickly so that no one (including her) could get attached to the creature and forget it was supposed to be food. When it stopped wriggling they examined it and made quick notes and sketches in Mirabelle’s observation book before borrowing a pocketknife from Gerhardt. (For all the tools and assorted objects in their pinafore pockets, they did not happen to have a knife, comb, or handkerchief.)
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This entry is part of a series, Voyage to Antafrica» In which the much tried and exhausted children make camp in the unexplored wilderness.
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Having no idea of the time of day, but a great deal of anxiety at the thought of being caught out after dark in this strange and dangerous land, the children decided to make camp on the small sandy beach. It wasn’t much bigger than the overturned mushroom boat, but they ventured into the woods and found sturdy fallen branches and propped up the riverside edge of the boat, making it into a lean-to shelter. Then they returned to the woods for firewood and soon had a cheery blaze between them and the water. Feeling thus secured from threats by land or sea, the twins shared out the last of the gouda.
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This entry is part of a series, Voyage to Antafrica» In which the children at last ascend to the surface of the earth, only to find themselves in more danger!
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The river did not quicken to throw them over a cliff. The cave broadened and the river slowed. The twins plied their oars for speed. Gerhardt, carving a name for their vessel into its hull, looked down and realized he had spelled “Mycelium” wrong.
“Hey,” he said, “there’s light.”
Ahead across the broad, flat water was a slit of blinding light, so welcome that the children stared into it until they had to close their eyes against it, and then saw the bright red impression of it against their closed eyelids.
They cheered and rowed toward it.
The cave mouth was low and they all had to lie down in the mushroom cap to pass through. With the yeti lying in there as well there was not enough room, so Claire and Adolphus jumped into the cold water and clung to the back of the boat, kicking to propel them back into the light.
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This entry is part of a series, Voyage to Antafrica» In which we discover what Claire found.
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“This narrow cave will open into an enormous cavern,” Claire said. “I don’t know how big, I couldn’t see very far because I only have one of Mother’s algae lamps.”
“So that’s where that went,” Adolphus muttered.
“Shhh! Go on, Claire,” Mirabelle said.
“But there was light there! I think there were cracks in the cave ceiling, or vertical tunnels, because there were patches of light beaming down. That’s where these mushrooms are growing. This is one of the biggest. I chopped it down at the base, then made the pole and oars out of the stem.”
“That was clever and brave of you!” Annabelle said.
“It is nice to have a boat that doesn’t leak,” Gerhardt added.
“But next time, please tell us,” Annabelle said. “We were worried.”
Adolphus opened his mouth to speak. There was the muffled thump of a sharp kick to the shins, so all he said was “Ow!”
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This entry is part of a series, Voyage to Antafrica» In which we learn of Claire’s fate.
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Gerhardt was gone. Mirabelle grabbed the net, kicked out of Adolphus’ grip, and leaned over the edge to look for him. She expected to see him bobbing in the current downstream with only the hope of catching onto Claire’s rope to save him, but Claire’s rope was no longer stretching into the blackness downstream. Instead, here was Claire herself, standing in a perfectly round boat with a surprised Gerhardt sitting beside her.
Mirabelle turned back and leaped at her siblings. Adolphus and Annabelle caught her. She grabbed Gerhardt’s shoe and reassured her horrified twin.
“He’s safe! Claire’s back; it’s time to go.”
There was little left on the ship worth taking. They loaded up the rope, the last of the food and tools, the algae lamp and their sodden winter clothing, and last of all the yeti, dragged onto the raft with considerable heaving and ho-ing.
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This entry is part of a series, Voyage to Antafrica» In which Bettina’s excellent idea puts her siblings in grave danger.
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“Net yeti,” said Bettina.
“Yes, dear, it was a nice yeti,” Mirabelle said.
“Net yeti,” Bettina repeated pointing up.
Gerhardt looked up. In the dim light he saw the dark square of the open trapdoor, through which he had ascended many hours, or possibly days ago.
“The balloon net,” he said. “She means the balloon net.”
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This entry is part of a series, Voyage to Antafrica» In which Annabelle loses her composure.
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Adolphus attacked the control panel with hammer and pliers, looking for wire or cable sturdy enough to hold the weight of any of the children. Having been forced to admit that he could not rebuild the airship into a raft before they all drowned, he was working on harnessing himself and his siblings to one or two of the gas balloons that even now kept them from sinking into the underground river.
Mirabelle and Annabelle were helping him, but the younger two were struggling to keep the yeti’s head above the water seeping into their ship. The creature was huge and heavy, and showed no inclination to float.
“If Claire hadn’t taken all the line without a word to anyone,” Adolphus muttered, “we’d be flying out of this mess by now.”
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This entry is part of a series, Voyage to Antafrica» In which there is yet more arguing.
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Bettina came over and wriggled between Mirabelle and the gondola wall. The others paid no notice as their dispute became more heated. They were all shouting, or in the case of Gerhardt, muttering while bailing.
“Why don’t we do what we did before?” Gerhardt said. “Let a little gas out and tighten the net. If it doesn’t unstick us you can go back to yelling at each other then.”
“What if we get unstuck and plunge off the top of a waterfall without enough gas to pull us up?” Mirabelle asked.
“What if we just sit here until we die of old age?” Adolphus sneered.
“Why don’t we push you overboard and see how far to the waterfall?” Annabelle leaned forward, but whatever act of unsisterly violence may have tempted her, Gerhardt interrupted her.
“Claire? What do you think we should do?”
His answer was the rushing of the river and the scraping of the hull.
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This entry is part of a series, Voyage to Antafrica» I which, I am sorry to say, there is squabbling.
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There was no more line left, so they untied coils and coils of it from the still sleeping yeti and secured Gerhardt with that. He scrambled up again, let a little gas out of each balloon, and fastened the net closer to the ship.
They sank closer to the river’s rushing water, and were on their way for a while. But before another ten leagues had passed, they were stuck again.
“What else can we pitch?” Claire asked, thinking aloud.
They looked around them. They had thrown all the rugs and blankets out the windows for Ulrik and the boiler crew back on the surface. They had tossed out all the furniture when they’d run aground in the tunnel.
“Water!” Annabelle seized a small barrel. “There’s plenty of water now, let’s dump it. There’s another one over there.”
The second barrel proved not to be water, but a sharp-smelling, eye-watering alcohol.
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This entry is part of a series, Voyage to Antafrica» Which contains a bit of fishing, a bit of cartography, and a bit of trouble.
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Image rjstyles' flickr photostream
Every time the tunnel branched the children stopped the ship and got out to examine their choices. They looked, listened, and smelled, straining for a hint of the Earth’s surface. For the most part, they just picked a random way. Whenever they made a choice, Gerhardt marked the tunnel.
He was out of marshmallows, but now that they could disembark he marked the wall with paint or chalk or whatever else the little ship could spare, signing GvH, so his parents knew where to find them, and so their path of discovery was marked for posterity.
“Perhaps we shall go down again,” Gerhardt said, “and find the center of the earth like Professor Lidenbrok.”
They were not going down, but up, ever so slightly, for the rest of the night and into the third day, when the smooth walls of their volcanic tunnel opened into a natural cave. The cave branched off their tunnel to left and right, but they could not get out and examine the cave to decide which way to go. The floor of the cave was covered with water!
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