Bernadino Schwimmeltrik – författare

Chapter 24. Singeing the Beard. The quartet trudged down the time tunnel in silence. Each was lost in his own thoughts. ÖffliBöffli was thinking about how close they had come to leaving their heads in a basket under the guillotine. Forward, or rather downward, they went at a leisurely pace. Out of nowhere, a massive iron ball came clattering through a shattered door. The door had been splintered into smithereens. Not a single piece was large enough to carry a date. Kalle Kanon studied the iron ball, and with his highly trained artillery eye, identified it as 36-pound cannonball. "Someone nearby is firing a very powerful Kanon for whatever purpose. Let's go through the door and find out what's going on,'' Kalle Kanon said, excited at the prospect of seeing the enormous Kanon and perhaps meeting some healthy action. That grade of Kanon was not something one encountered every day. After some consideration and discussion, they decided to venture through the time warp. They emerged onto a flowery meadow which sloped gently down toward the sea. A mighty full-rigged warship lay out off shore. All her Kanon ports were open. From them issued puffs of black smoke. "Throw yourselves to the ground! NOW!'' yelled Kalle Kanon. ''That ship is firing at us!" All four of them dropped to the ground and tried to make themselves as small as possible. A second later, cannonballs whizzed over their heads and landed further up the meadow. Large pillars of earth exploded high into the air where the cannonballs had struck the ground with heavy thuds. Then they noticed that large canvasses had been erected. On them had been painted an array of fighting sailing ships. "False alarm! Relax! They're just having target practice'', Pelle Pistol assured them and as he stood up. "Yes, they sure need the practice," growled Kalle Kanon. ''They're miserable artillery men. Poor shots." "Let's move along and try to find out where we've landed,'' said ÖffliBöffli, taking the lead. They came upon a country road winding between green knolls and fields of swaying crops. After a while, they met a farmer leisurely driving a hay wagon pulled by a team of oxen. The old man stopped and stared suspiciously at the four in front of him. "Who are you?'' the farmer asked sourly, displaying the remnants of a set of very bad teeth. ÖffliBöffli introduced himself and his friends, and asked, "What country is this?" "That's the dumbest question I've heard in years. You are in the realm of Her Majesty Elizabeth the First, our glorious Gloriana, Queen of England, the world's only real country. Which country, indeed! There is no other,'' the farmer snapped sourly. ''His bad teeth presumably cause him severe digestive problems, which would explain why he's so sour,'' muttered ÖffliBöffli. "One last silly question, if you please. What year is this?'' he added. "You really are a numskull! It's the year of our Lord 1588. And before you ask any more scatterbrained questions, this is the road to Plymouth, the world's biggest naval base,'' the farmer replied, as he spat onto the road and urged his oxen forward. ''Delightful fellow,'' said Pelle Pistol. They continued down the dry, dusty road. The day was sunny and bright. ''The exact opposite of the tunnel. How wonderful!'' said Unka Duncas. Soon, they were so parched in the heat, that their tongues felt like shoe leather. Luckily, after the next bend in the road, they saw in the distance a modest little building displaying a sign that swayed gently in the mild breeze. It was not easy to read the sign from so far away, but Pelle Pistol, with his sharp vision, croaked in a parched voice, "It's an inn. Thank goodness.'' As they drew nearer, the sign announced, “Halfway Inn”. They entered the premises. It was empty, but for elderly, one-legged man wearing a black eye patch over his left eye and a large brass ring in his left earlobe. On the armrest of the rocking chair in which he sat, perched two colourful birds. They screeched at the newcomers for disturbing the peace. "Welcome, gentlemen, to the Halfway Inn,'' greeted the man, struggling to rise from the rocking chair. He hobbled with some difficulty on his pegleg and positioned himself behind the bar. "My name is Henry Morgan, owner of this fine establishment. What can I do for you gentlemen?'' he asked cheerily. "Do you have cold ale?'' Kalle Kanon asked. "Oh yes, I most surely do'', replied the old man, and in a jiffy swung four foaming tankards onto the bar. They all downed their drinks thirstily and with a clunk, all four empty tankards were slammed back onto the bar. The glasses were refilled to the brim. No one protested. "I once was a pirate, a buccaneer, a corsair or whatever you fancy to call me. Terror of the Seven Seas, they called me. I've taken a lot of gold and treasure, but spent most of it on women and gambling,'' the old man related. "Well, sir, you certainly look like a pirate even though you're retired. The only thing missing, is a colourful parrot on your shoulder squawking, 'Hey ho, scoundrels, empty the rum glass and let's be merry,' or something like that,'' said ÖffliBöffli with a pleasant smile. " You're right. I don't have a parrot. Instead, I have those two valuable birds over there,'' he said, pointing to the rocking chair. ''Hackis and Knackis, they're called and two very intelligent birds they are. They supplement both my hearing and my vision,'' Henry Morgan related. "It was them that told me that you were on your way here after meeting that grumpy old codger, Sam Sour on his ox wagon. I'll let you in on a little secret, as you look like game fellows. When times are tough, Hackis and Knackis contribute to our sparse coffers by nicking a silver spoon or a silver coin or twos from the wealthy. I prefer coins. Less easy to prove ownership than spoons. I won this tavern in a card game and it's now the only thing I own besides my birds." "Clever birds!'' grunted Kalle Kanon. ''By the way, we are colleagues. Him and me, we're in the same profession as you," he added, pointing at Pelle Pistol. "Well, shiver my timbers! Let's toast to that! I recognise fine fellows when I see them,'' said the old man, producing a rum bottle from under the counter. He set out five pewter tankards. ''Just three, will suffice'', said ÖffliBöffli. The publican poured three generous portions of rum. He raised his tankard toward Kalle Kanon and Pelle Pistol and said, ''Cheers, my hearties! To bountiful sailing!'' The rum loosened the old man's tongue. It seemed he hadn't had anyone to talk to for a long time, and was savouring the company of jolly colleagues before him. He rambled on. Conversation flowed back and forth. Stories, yarns, experiences, boasts and tall tales were exchanged in profusion. "You'd be interested to know that England is preparing its defence against a Spanish invasion fleet. Hostilities could start at any time. Admirals John Hawkins and Francis Drake have modernised the fleet and are outfitting the ships for war and bolstering them with bigger crews and extra Cannons. So, they are in desperate need of more sailors and soldiers. So be careful you're not press-ganged,'' warned Henry Morgan. "You must have seen many battles yourself,'' Kalle Kanon said. ''Tell us about your favourite one?" "Oh yes, how about this? At one point, we sailed into Caramaibo in a completely insane manoeuvre through a very narrow strait, called Tablasso. Spies spotted in advance that we were approaching in full sail with our Kanon ports open. All the residents fled inland, and of course, they took all their valuable belongings with them,'' Henry Morgon began his tale. "So, you didn't get a big haul?'' asked ÖffliBöffli. "No, we just turned around and aimed at getting back to the ocean,'' Henry Morgan replied. '' But it wasn't that simple. The Spaniards had laid an ambush. They blocked the strait with three warships. We were really in a tight spot, but when piracy is your profession, you're used to often fighting at a disadvantage, as you boys will know." "How did you get past three warships?'' Pelle Pistol wanted to know. "We split up. Some of us went ashore and attacked the ships from the land side, which they hadn't expected. One of their ships was disabled immediately, and the crew ran the ship aground to avoid sinking to the bottom of the sea. Then we sent in a fire ship filled with gunpowder and all Cannons loaded. The fire ship hit the second ship, which sank in a huge explosion.'' "Then the match was more even,'' said Kalle Kanon. "Yes, but then we had to contend with the fort which guarded the strait with its heavy cannons,'' said Henry Morgan. "So, we feigned an attack on the land side, which fooled the governor into moving his Cannons to the land bastions so they could defend themselves against our attack." "That was a clever move'', ÖffliBöffli said. "Then it was child's play to capture the third and last ship. We got all our men back on board, and we sailed back through the strait, out to sea, safe from the enemy but without having collected any bounty,'' Henry Morgan concluded. "How come your tavern is called 'Halfway Inn'?'' asked Pelle Pistol. " Well, when you look up, you have heaven, and when you look down, then you have hell. So, we are halfway to the one or the other. We'll see which way the journey goes for me when it's time for this old pirate to cash in his chips,'' chuckled Henry Morgan, taking another hearty swig of rum. Henry Morgan peered with interest and rather drunkenly at Unka Duncas, who'd remained silent during all the merry banter. "I could use someone to help me in the tavern. I wonder if I could buy this darky from you? If so, name your price,'' said Henry Morgan. ÖffliBöffli bristled. "Unka Duncas is neither servant nor slave! He is our very good friend and colleague,'' ÖffliBöffli replied indignantly. ''Moreover, he is the high priest of a noble people. And with that, the conversation was over. Henry Morgan conveniently fell sound asleep after gulping another rum. His head hit the table with a loud bang. Snoring filled the room. ''Sounds like a lake full of bullfrogs,'' were Unka Duncas' first words of the evening. The friends looked questioningly at each other. "Let's find somewhere to sleep. We need a good rest after our strenuous and eventful few days,'' said ÖffliBöffli. Everyone found a more or less cosy niche and the fatigue and experiences of the day took their toll. The next morning, before Henry Morgan had risen, they gathered some provisions in the form of cheese, bread and thin beer. Hackis and Knackis started squawking but they stopped immediately, when the friends left a generous handful of coins on the bar in payment for the beer, the rum, the provisions and the accommodation. They set off towards Plymouth. Walking along the dusty road, they happily munched the food they had bought. Many heavily loaded wagons, pulled either by oxen or horses, passed them by. Most of the cargo was ship supplies, ranging from gunpowder, cannonballs and bullets to rope, sail-cloth, and provisions. It was evident that something momentous was underway. As the city walls of Plymouth came into sight, they passed a beggar sitting by the roadside. "Good people!'' called the beggar after them. They ignored him. "Good people!'' he repeated, ''I have an important message for you. Come back." "He probably just wants alms from us,'' Pelle Pistol said, ''Let's keep going." "No, let's hear what he has to say," ÖffliBöffli said, returning to the beggar. "What do you have to say to us?'' ÖffliBöffli asked. "I have been visited by Hackis and Knackis. They brought a message from Henry Morgan.'' ÖffliBöffli was both surprised and sceptical, but asked politely, "Well, please tell us then.'' "When coins jingle in the pot, words will jingle from my mouth.'' The beggar was a wretched fellow with skinny arms and bandy legs and not a tooth in his mouth. "Be careful! Don't get too close!'' he looks as if he might have leprosy, and that's contagious!'' warned Kalle Kanon. "Leprosy!'' sneered the beggar, ''No, my only illness is poverty, not leprosy! My muscles and bones have been weak since childhood because of lack of nourishment. I entered a vicious cycle - poverty, lack of food, weak body, unable to work, no earnings, more poverty - and the cycle starts again and again. And, big fellow, don't worry, poverty is not contagious.'' Kalle Kanon growled to hide his embarrassment. ÖffliBöffli threw a silver coin into the pot, but the beggar demanded more. After the fifth coin had clinked, he began to speak. "Go into the city and find a tavern called the ‘Cockhead & Fowl'. There, someone will contact you,'' concluded the beggar as he limped towards the nearest pub. "Well, let's go,'' said Pelle Pistol and they set off for the city gate. The guards questioned them meticulously and scrutinized them suspiciously from top to bottom. Finding nothing suspicious, they were granted entry into the city of Plymouth. They found themselves in narrow back alleys reeking of refuse and filth. The gutters overflowed with sewerage and waste. No one seemed to care that they had to step warily to avoid soiling their shoes and clothes. They searched long for the” Cockhead & Fowl," but did not find it. Finally, they decided to ask for directions. They stopped a moderately sober sailor but he just shook his head. They asked a snotty street urchin. " 'Cockhead & Fowl’? Never heard of it! But there is one called 'Cock's Head & Owl'. It's just around the corner there," he pointed. ÖffliBöffli gave him a coin. Wide-eyed, he said, ''Thanks, Mister!'' and scurried around the corner. And there it stood. The "Cock's Head & Owl" was a cheap, run-down establishment where even the poorest of the poor were welcome as long as they paid for their booze. Just as Kalle Kanon was entering the tavern, a drunken seaman was being thrown out. The drunk collided with Kalle Kanon who responded by giving the seaman a volley of hefty punches after which he promptly threw him back into the tavern. "I meant you to get out and stay out, Moby Dick!" shouted the angry innkeeper, as he gave Moby Dick a mighty kick in the rear which sent him flying like a projectile back through the door. He landed with a slap against the wall on the other side of the alley. "Welcome, good gentlemen!'' the innkeeper fawned. "What's your tipple?" "What do you have to offer? Pelle Pistol inquired. "We have fine hocks and clarets for elegant gentlemen like yourselves, and of course, premium ales and ciders. Or if, my lords, you fancy something stronger, I have my grogs and my rums. I also have Bummburner, which I have especially imported from Bavaria, for special clients like your good selves. But I am obliged to warn, she's a sneaky damsel and one should be cautious. She's as lively as a firecracker and will set you off like a rocket!'' the host concluded. Pelle Pistol and ÖffliBöffli ordered claret. Kalle Kanon, determined to be true to his image, despite his previous lesson at the beavers' tavern, ordered a shot of Bummburner. Unka Duncas settled for raspberry juice. The quartet found a corner at the back of the tavern which gave a good view of the whole room. They sipped their drinks, while looking around cautiously to see if anyone signalled a desire to make contact. The atmosphere was lively and increased with each glass that was consumed. Nothing untoward happened besides a little scuffle in one corner where a pair of ladies were trying to sell their home brew without the approval of the publican. Through the open door, they could hear the marching of the marines’ seeking "volunteers" for enlistment and the shouts and curses of those being accosted. They remembered Henry Morgan's warning about soldiers press-ganging drunken wretches into the navy's iron grip. The waited long for the contact the beggar had told of. No one approached them. They began to suspect that they had been duped. Quite a few rounds of drinks were downed before a dwarf-like man with an untidy full beard approached the friends. "Have you gentlemen ever seen a dancing monkey that can speak with the wisdom of an owl?'' inquired the little man. "Why do you ask? ÖffliBöffli wanted to know. "I've been informed by some birds that you might be interested,'' claimed the man. ÖffliBöffli understood that it was a disguised invitation for a private meeting. He nodded to the little man. "Just follow me, then.'' said the dwarf. He led them to a loft above the tavern. There sat a man impatiently tapping his fingers on the tabletop. "About time you showed up,'' he hooted. "Well, no one contacted us until a few minutes ago'', ÖffliBöffli replied. "True enough, true enough. I apologise. I'm the impatient one. My name is Ozzy Owl. I'm the owner of this miserable establishment. That buffoon below only runs it for me. I sailed with Henry Morgan as first mate for many years. We were very successful and made a fortune trading back and forth in the New World'', Ozzy Owl recounted. "So then, why do you run such a tawdry tavern if business was so good?'' challenged Pelle Pistol. "Well, as you no doubt understand, everyone is out to pilfer a piece of one's pie, to stand ready to steal another's fortune, despite always being on one's guard, one cannot always prevent being outsmarted or outmaneuvered from all quarters. It could be one's good colleagues in the industry who attempt to appropriate one's fortune but the most dangerous thief of all, is the noble Royal English navy. With their bigger, faster, and better-armed warships, they are the ones who most often succeed in robbing us hard-working seafarers of our hard-earned profits.'' Ozzy Owl explained. "That's the way of the world. One is not always master of one's own fate nor in full control of one's own pocket.'' said Pelle Pistol understandingly. ''Sound like greedy lubbers, the English. How did they get you?'' growled Kalle Kanon. "We were overtaken by a frigate with seventy-seven Cannons. We didn't stand an earthly chance against such a formidable opponent. But we hid most of the loot, gold, coins, jewels and such in a secret compartment deep down in the ship. We left some of the loot in the hold to be easily found in order to fool the navy into thinking that they had been successful,'' said Ozzy Owl. " That was a smart plan. Hope you gave them a good fight as well,'' said Kalle Kanon. "Yes, we fought with everything we had, so it wasn't easy for them. But in the end, we had to surrender after more than half our crew was killed. They searched our ship from keel to mast. They found only what we'd planned for them to find,'' answered Ozzy Owl. "The redcoats interrogated us. They weren't gentle with their interrogation methods. They even hanged a few of us from the yardarm but no one revealed the presence of the rest of the bounty", Ozzy Owl continued. "How come you managed to escape as a free man?'' ÖffliBöffli asked. "I was shackled and imprisoned on board their vessel, awaiting trial, but I managed to bribe a guard when we were anchored near land. I simply jumped into the sea and swam ashore,'' said Ozzy Owl. "Our ship is called 'Aurora' and is now part of the navy after being refurbished as a warship. She happens to lie at anchor here in Plymouth harbour at this very moment. My plan is to board her as a crew member. The need for crew is now tremendous and there is so much confusion and activity related to that with forced enlistment, press-gangs, shanghaiing and so on, that no one really knows what going on. It should be easy,'' Ozzy Owl informed them. "So, I understand from all this that you are seeking our help with this mission?'' ÖffliBöffli inquired, looking meaningfully at Ozzy Owl. "I understood from Henry Morgan that you have been pirates yourselves. There is enough gold on 'Aurora' for all of us. So why not? Few would back away from a little adventure that will be rewarded with a tidy sum in gold and silver coins,'' added Ozzy Owl, with a smug smile. "Count me in! I'm game!'' exclaimed Kalle Kanon, as always eager for derring-do. ''Just a minute! Not so fast!'' cautioned ÖffliBöffli. '' Fist of all, nether this man here, Unka Duncas, nor I have even been pirates. Secondly, why us? Why do you trust us? We could just as well walk out of here, inform the navy of your scheme and reap a good reward without risking our lives at all,'' said ÖffliBöffli. Pelle Pistol and Unka Duncas, nodded their agreement, Kalle Kanon, snarled. ''The very fact that you are answering as you are, is proof of your worth even though you are not a pirate. As Henry informed me, he discerned in you deep wisdom, extraordinary knowledge and a talent for reasoning.'' ÖffliBöffli blushed a bright shade of red. ''Furthermore,'' continued Ozzy Owl, ''Henry's birds, which he relies upon religiously, have apparently informed him, that they had scanned Unka Duncas' brain and found that he has many supernatural powers, like an ability for time travel, and dream prediction, which would undoubtedly be of great value to our mission.'' Unka Duncas squirmed in embarrassment in his seat. ''Thank you for your compliments. But there are also moral issues here. My best friends in all the world, Pelle Pistol and Kalle Kanon, have long since chosen that way of life, but despite that, they have time and time again proved to be kind, considerate, generous and self-sacrificing beings, which amply offsets their misdemeanours. But what about Unka Duncas and I? We have deeply-seated scruples about stealing, violence and the risk of taking the lives of others,'' said ÖffliBöffli. ''Well said! I presumed you would come up with words to that effect. My response is simple. Neither the navy, nor the scoundrels from whom we acquired the loot came by the merchandise by honest means. So, the goods don't 'legally' belong to the either of them nor to me, so we are not really 'stealing', as you put it. We are merely requisitioning lost property. To salve your conscience, you can donate your portion of the pickings to charity, some worthy cause, perhaps set up a home for the poor, start a fund for education of needy youngsters or suchlike. Besides, Henry told me, that like your friends, you are game for adventure and challenge.'' ÖffliBöffli pondered deeply for some minutes. He then consulted with Unka Duncas, and they both agreed to join the adventure. Ozzy Owl proposed splitting the loot into five equal potions and the deal was done. Hands, were shook all around. "Good! Let's waste no more time'', said Ozzy Owl. ''This is my detailed plan. I have sailor's clothes for all of us. We dress in those. We find a row boat and row out to 'Aurora' in the dead of the night. I know exactly where she's lying at anchor. We board her. We blend in with the rest of the crew and the rest we play be ear as the circumstances and occasion presents itself.'' Ozzy Owl opened a large seaman's chest and produced suitable clothes for everyone. They proceeded with stealth and caution, on the lookout for soldiers and press-gangs. In a deserted part of the harbour, they found a row boat, set off from the quay and headed towards a forest of ship masts. Ozzy Owl knew exactly what the rigging and hull of the "Aurora" looked like. They found it easily. The reached the anchor cable. A solitary guard ambled lazily back and forth, waiting for the time to pass and his relief to come. He sat on a bollard with his back against the anchor light. Ozzy Owl climbed slowly but surely upwards towards the deck. Furtively, he approached the guard and disabled him with a pistol butt. He signalled to the others and they boarded without any trouble. "Now follow me down to the battery deck where the crew usually sleeps between the Cannons. No one will take notice of us looking for a place to spend the night,'' whispered Ozzy Owl Before proceeding, Ozzy Owl poured rum over the guard and placed the empty bottle next to him. As predicted, they all found places to lie down and slept deeply after their long and arduous day. Their snoring mixed in harmony with that of the rest of the crew. "Assembly on deck now," bellowed several boatswains early the next morning. They blew their whistles as they walked through the low battery deck. The sailors quickly got to their feet and stowed away their hammocks or whatever they had been sleeping on. On deck, they lined up in a starboard and a larboard watch. The marines stood separately at both ends of the lines. The captain stood on the half deck and addressed to the crew. "We have learned that the enemy is preparing to sail with one hundred and thirty-seven large galleons from Cadiz. All the ships are heavily equipped with both weapons and crew. It is our duty to prevent the enemy from landing on our shores. Therefore, we will hold live fire drills in the coming days so that we are fully prepared to meet the enemy,'' the captain concluded. A loud war cry rang out from the crew. They went to the deck and weighed anchor. They were soon underway at full sail. In a secluded bay, they placed barrels as targets and soon all the Cannons thundered from the starboard side. ''Aurora'' tacked and came up to the targets on the larboard side. Again, a barrage erupted and the Cannonballs whizzed away. Water spouts rose from the sea where badly aimed Cannonballs hit the surface. This evoked boos. When the barrels were accurately hit, there were triumphant shouts from the successful gun crews. The battery officers smiled broadly at each hit as they carefully measured the time it took to reload. The crew was rewarded with a double rum grog for a well-performed exercise. Admiral John Hawkins aboard "Victoria" had divided the fleet into a southern and a northern squadron. ''Aurora'' joined the northern squadron where thirteen warships were already at anchor. Days passed with further exercises and ship maintenance. After a small sloop arrived with intelligence and orders, there was much hustle and bustle on all the ships. The intelligence revealed that the mighty Spanish Armada was preparing for departure on its way to England. The northern squadron set sail south-west. They awaited the arrival of the southern squadron under the command of Admiral Francis Drake on "Revenge" so that the united fleet could confront the enemy. When the southern squadron with its flagship appeared, the wind died down. A group of somewhat battered smaller ships joined the united fleet. They reported that they had come close to the armada and had delivered a few broadsides directly into the powder magazine of a galleon named ''Santa Maria''. It promptly exploded. They managed to damage some of other galleons but also took damage themselves. They concluded was that the English ships were faster and more manoeuvrable than the enemy. The captains of all the ships gathered on "Victoria" for a council of war. Tactics were discussed. Some of the captains advised direct confrontation with direct broadsides into the Spanish fleet. Admiral Francis Drake argued that the wind was too weak and not blowing in exactly the optimal direction. He counselled against a direct attack. Hours passed, and evening approached without reaching a final decision. The company was supplied with food and drink while the discussions continued. 'Aurora's' young captain, Martin Frobisher, went up on deck to get some fresh air. He leaned against the rail and looked down at the sea. He noted that the wind had picked up and had shifted to the right direction. He conceived an idea in his head about what they could do under the cover of the darkness. He went back to the rest of the company and asked to be allowed to speak. "Very well, young man. What do you have to say," said Admiral John Hawkins. It was unusual for such a young captain to have the nerve to offer an opinion in such august company of renowned seafarers and seasoned campaigners. "I have understood that our latest information is that the enemy has anchored just off the coast of the mainland where the strait begins. I've just been on deck and noted that the wind is beginning to pick up and that it is now in our favour,'' explained Martin Frobisher. "So, what is your proposal? Do you have a plan?'' asked Francis Drake somewhat impatiently. "I suggest that we select the three oldest of our ships, load them to the brim with gunpowder. We get a few crewmen to sail each ship towards the enemy's anchored fleet. When the ships are about a half league away from the enemy, the crewmen fix the sails and secure the rudder, and put the three ships on course to sail straight into the enemy fleet. They set fire to our three ships. The crewmen leave their ships on longboats. The enemy sees the approach of the flaming ships and prepares to flee. The rest of our fleet is not far behind and we strike with full force against the fleeing ships, which are now in disarray trying to avoid the fire ships,'' proposed Martin Frobisher. A deep silence sunk over the cabin. Eyes were clamped shut; temples were rubbed. Some gazed at the ceiling, deep in thought. Then there were cries of, ''Brilliant!'' ''Ingenious!'' ''What a plan!'' ''Hurrah!'' ''Well done, young man!'' "That's exactly what we'll do!'' declared Francis Drake, shaking Frobisher's hand vigorously in appreciation. "I volunteer my ship 'Aurora' to be one of the fire ships,'' Martin Frobisher offered. ''She's rather old and is in need of significant repairs." "Good, choose two more ships amongst you. We must make haste. Make the preparations and let us get underway,'' John Hawkins ordered. The captains promptly rowed back to their ships to prepare them for battle. Aboard the 'Aurora', Captain Martin Frobisher informed the crew of the plan. "We need a few volunteers to stay until the last moment and set fire to the ship,'' said Martin Frobisher. Ozzy Owl immediately saw the opportunity he had been waiting for. He volunteered to stay on board and glanced at his four accomplices. ÖffliBöffli. Pelle Pistol, Kalle Kanon and Unka Duncas immediately understood, nodded and raised their hands. Martin Frobisher smiled at his five volunteers and spoke. ''Well done, brave sailors!'' Captain Martin Frobisher and the rest of the crew left in longboats and quickly disappeared into the darkness, leaving the five brave volunteers to complete their heroic task. The sails were swiftly hoisted, and the 'Aurora' set course toward the enemy ships, together with the two other ships that had been chosen. As they approached the planned distance from the Spanish fleet, Ozzy Owl rushed down to the bottom of the hold and began loosening planks. ÖffliBöffli ran to fix the rudder while Unka Duncas secured the sails. Kalle Kanon and Pelle Pistol prepared for the ignition of the tens of powder barrels that had been loaded on board. Ozzy Owl was still busy in the hold when Pelle Pistol shouted down to him that he had to come up on deck as they were close to their target and were about to light the fuse to set the powder barrels alight. "I'll be there shortly,'' roared Ozzy Owl back. "I just need to load the treasure into a sack. I'm coming." "You need to come now,'' shouted Pelle Pistol in return. ''Otherwise, you'll go up with the ship." The friends were already on their way down the ladder to the longboat when Ozzy Owl appeared, carrying a pitifully small sack that clinked with coins. "There's so much more down there but I didn't have time to gather more than this,'' groaned Ozzy Owl, scrambling aboard the longboat. They rowed frantically to put distance between themselves and the burning 'Aurora'. They managed in the nick of time. The 'Aurora' exploded in a tremendous fireworks display amidst the enemy ships. Among other debris, gold and silver coins rained down from the sky like a hail storm. Ozzy Owl groaned in despair and as he tried to catch some of the coins raining down from the smokey heavens. As he had predicted, Frobisher's plan caused panic among the enemy. They tried in vain to extinguish the fire that spread greedily among their ships. They hacked at their anchor cables in order to escape the inferno. For most, it was already too late, they shared the fate of the 'Aurora'. They were lost in a cataclysmic sea of fire. Of the 137 ships in the great Spanish Armada, only sixty returned to safety. Many of those that escaped the fire were lost in severe storms or ran aground because their anchor cables had been severed. The violent explosions The five sailors' small like a cork and nearly lay down in the bottom of sides and hoping for a Suddenly, the longboat around. It was caught in a multiple explosions. Before they could grasp themselves on a barren had generated gigantic waves. longboat bobbed up and down capsized several times. They the longboat, clinging to the miracle. began spinning around and vortex that had arisen from the what had happened, the found beach at the mouth of a large cave that would be underwater at high tide. ÖffliBöffli looked around in amazement. ''Let's head for the cave,'', he advised. They reached it and collapsed on its sandy floor gasping for breath after their miraculous escape from the vortex. "Where is Ozzy Owl?" Pelle Pistol asked, looking around. ''I saw him trying to grab a few more coins in the vortex. He got sucked overboard,'' said Unka Duncas. "Greedy varmint! He probably would have cheated us in the end,'' barked Kalle Kanon. ''The wages of avarice! A fool and his money are soon parted,'' said Pelle Pistol. ''Money is the root of all evil!'' said Unka Duncas ''Yes, I can't say I miss him. In any event, we had an exciting adventure and took part in a battle that changed the course of history'' said ÖffliBöffli. ''And, do you know what? I read of this battle in my history books. After the victory, Admiral Francis Drake, made this boast ' I singed the King of Spain's beard! He never made mention of Martin Frobisher.''

Har Baron von Münchhausen fått en nutida efterföljare? Jag har skrivit en barn-och ungdomsbok som en äventyrsberättelse där huvudpersonerna kan förflytta sig i tid och rum, berättar författaren Bernadino Schwimmeltrik. Huvudpersonerna är en gris, en katt och en hund. Berättelsen började för ca 30 år sedan när min yngste son och jag badade bastu. Berättelsen var ett sätt att få honom att tycka om bastubadandet. Vilket lyckades. Jag grunnade länge på om jag skulle klara av att skriva ner historien. 2018 gjorde jag slag i saken och började att skriva. Det är jätteroligt att fritt kunde fabulera om personer och händelser, faktiska som fiktioner. Att kunna ge några politiska, religiösa och moraliska sidspakar men också påpeka saker som borde rättas till utan för den sakens skull bli en moralisk kompass. Trevlig läsning. EN ÄVENTYRSBERÄTTELSE FÖR BARN OCH HALVVUXNA Författare Bernardo Schwimmeltrik Persongalleri: ÖffliBöffli är en glad gris som nu har blivit gammal nog för att lämna föräld-rahemmet. ÖffliBöffli har gått i den vanliga folkskolan och lärt sig läsa och skriva. Han är mycket nyfiken och vill gärna veta hur allting är och hur det funkar. ÖffliBöffli kan lätt uppfattas som en besserwisser då han ofta har svar på allting. ÖffliBöfflis favoritämne i skolan var historia. Pelle Pistol är en svartvit och mycket elegant katt som har varit fäktmäs-tare hos Kungen av det stora Solskensriket. Han bär alltid en flott röd uniform med en stor vit krage. På huvudet en bredbrämad hatt med en stor strutsfjäder som vajar vackert i vinden. En flintlåspistol är istoppad i vapenbältet på var sida. På vänstra sidan hänger en smärt värja. Pelle Pistol är lite av en klädsnobb. Kalle Kanon är en stor och välvuxen bulldogg med en barsk framtoning men med ett hjärta av guld. Kalle Kanon har varit artillerimästare vid samma hov som Pelle Pistol. Där har de träffat varandra och sedan dess varit vänner i vått som torrt. Kalle Kanon är mycket stark och har vunnit flera brottnings-mästerskap. UnkaDuncas tar vännerna till fånga Åter var det lata dagar på Pissimippi. Tiden bara flöt förbi i långsam mak. För det mesta rörde sig aktiviteterna om att brassa käk och sitta med fiske-grejor och hoppas på napp. Färsk fisk var alltid uppskattat. För det mesta la man flotten in vid bredden över natten och fortsatte då oförtrutet så snart frukosten var intagen. Man hade nog inte riktigt lagt märke till hur Pissimippi ändrade karaktär från skogsområden och gröna gräsfält till träskmarker med plantor och träd som växte direkt i vattnet. Det var mycket mossa på nerhängande lianer och det luktade murket. Dagsljuset trängde knappt fram genom de täta trädkronorna och lövverken. Båten hade på något mystiskt vis förirrat sig in mitt i träsket när vän-nerna dåsade i eftermiddagssolen. Pelle Pistol ryckte till och hoppade upp på benen och slog larm vilket fick ÖffliBöffli och Kalle Kanon att hastigt komma på fötter. Man visste inte vad som var fram eller bak då man hade förlorat orienteringen totalt. Man satte sig ned och höll råd. ”Hur skall vi ta oss igenom denna gröna sörja med nerhängande lianer som omger oss överallt och spärrar vägens framkomlighet”, fnös Kalle Kanon. ”Vi får väl hacka oss igenom med yxor och svärd så gott det går”, sva-rade ÖffliBöffli. Under tiden vännerna stod och kliade sig i nacken dök plötsligt några hotfulla individer upp som stod med var sitt ben på en alligator. Varelserna höll i en töm och varje ände var fastknuten till en ring som gick genom alligatorernas respektive höger eller vänstra näsborre. Sedan var alligato-rernas svansar ihop bundna med en lätt kätting. Det fungerade som ett par stridshästar fast allt föregick i vattnet. Dessutom med ganska hög fart. Va-relserna styrde stridsalligatorerna i krets runt flotten under höga hotfulla vrål. Ansiktsmasker i svart och vitt förhöjde den hotfulla stämningen. ÖffliBöffli, Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon ställde sig med ryggarna mot varandra i försvarsställning redo att möta angriparna ifall dessa ville ta sig ombord på flotten. Svärd, yxa och pistoler fanns redan framme i högsta hugg. Angriparna följdes hela tiden vaksamt med ögonen. Plötsligt lät ett skriande hornsignal och alla tvärnitade och stod helt stilla på vattnet medan de iakttog en till synes prominent ledare som kom på de största kräldjuren. Försiktigt närmade han sig flotten, stint stirrande på trion. Till slut var ledaren helt framme vid relingen utan att något våldsamt hade hänt. ”Jag är UnkaDuncas, högsta ledare och befälhavare för Svinginerna som bor i dessa träskmarker ni just har trängt er in i.” ”Hej på dig UnkaDuncas. Det är på grund av lite ouppmärksamhet vi har hamnat här. Vi har inga avsikter att ställa till med några problem om du förstår”, svarade ÖffliBöffli. ”Hmm”, morrade UnkaDuncas och tittade ÖffliBöffli rakt i ögonen för att se om han kunde upptäcka något tvivelsamt. Efter en halv minuts överläggning med sig själv manade UnkaDuncas alla männen runt om att lägga vapnen åt sidan. Två spann alligatorer gjordes fast till flotten och började att bogsera denna igenom mangroveskogens snåriga lövverk. Så småningom uppenba-rade sig en bredare segelbar kanal. Då ökades också tempot. Snart nådde man fram till ett trångt sund som var ingången till en stor lagun. Hela in-farten var kraftigt bevakat och på flera ställen fanns till fallgaller som kunde sänkas ner i sundet och på så sätt försvåra intrång och spärra sundet. Väl igenom sundet fick man se ett stort antal byggnader ofta i flera vå-ningar som låg runt torg och gator fördelat på hela lagunens utsträckning. Folket strömmade ner till anlöps kajen för att nyfiket titta på de kons-tiga nykomlingarna. Man knuffades och försökte att tränga sig längst fram. Ett barn ramlade över kajkanten och försvann under vattenytan. Resolut hoppade Kalle Kanon över relingen och dök där barnet hade försvunnit. Tiden gick och man började att bli mycket nervösa och fruktade att det värsta skulle inträffa. Men så plötsligt bröt en vresig bulldoggs huvud upp ur vattenspegeln och på ryggen satt barnet. Kalle Kanon simmade in till kanten så som bara en hund kan simma. Folket började jubla och ropa hurra kastande sina hattar och mössor upp i luften. En ängslig mamma sprang snabbt fram och snappade barnet från Kalle Kanons rygg. Nu var stämningen mot de tre främmande personerna vänd till något mycket positivt och gillande. ÖffliBöffli, Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon blev omringande av folket. Alla ville vidröra hjältarna och mest Kalle Kanon. Det var ju han som hade räddat barnet. Triumferande eskorterades trion med UnkaDuncas i spetsen till en stor byggnad som kunde liknas vid ett slott. Väl inne i byggnaden kom betjänter ilande med dryck och mat på stora silverbrickor. Alla sorter exotiska och kanderade frukter serverades till-sammans med en ilsket grön likörliknade dryck som de kallade snålvatten. Stämningen var munter och hjärtlig och en liten orkester började spela suggestiv mycket rytmisk musik på trummor, truttelittor, pillipilliflöjter och något harp liknade instrument som mer såg ut som en grind till en hönsgård. Dans bröt ut spontant och plötsligt var allt förvandlat till en folkfest. Människorna klappade i händerna och sjöng med för fulla halsar på me-lodierna som tydligen var välkända. Det var faktisk den dag på året man firade gudarna och la offergåvor i form av mat, blommor och diverse bruksföremål på en liten flotte som man sedan lät flyta ner för floden och man hoppades att gåvorna kom fram till gudarna. När detta var avklarat så började firandet på allvar. Det fanns olika tävlingar men också uppvisningar där Krokodansen var höjdpunkten. Människorna samlades runt en stor öppen plats där man väntade på ar-tisterna och deras föreställning under mycket stoj och stim. Plötsligt öppnades ringen och fram kom två muskulösa och vältränade män med var sin alligator under armen. Alligatorerna var ungefär en meter långa och försedda med munkavel. Artisterna bugade sig artigt framför publiken samtidigt som de höll fram var sin alligator. ”Min alligator heter Alice”, deklarerade PukkelPuh. ”Och min heter Ally”, ropade MukkelMu ut. Och i tur och ordning presenterade de övriga åtta tävlingsdeltagarna sig. De två artisterna var kusiner och tränade varje dag sina alligatorer så fö-reställningen skulle bli så bra som möjligt. Man inledde uppvisningen med flera olika färdigheter så som balans-gång, alligatorkortdistanslopp och hinderbana. Först ut av tio alligatorer var Alice som balanserade på en smal kant på en cirka tio meter lång balk. Därefter var det bakbenspromenad på gungfly som skulle gå så pass fort att djuret inte fastnade i kvicksanden. För säker-hets skull hade PukkelPuh ett rep fastsatt runt halsen på Alice så han kunde dra in henne ifall läget blev kritiskt. Nästa moment gällde trädklättring eller rättare sagt klättring upp för en blankpolerad mycket hög, avbarkad trädstam. Några diskvalifikationer förekom då en ägare hade smort in trädstam-men med gåsfett så favoriten inte kunde få bra grepp. Fuskaren blev utbuad och utskrattad av publiken som inte gillade detta skurkaktiga tilltag. Alla övningar skulle göras på tid och snabbaste alligator som blev vin-naren fick belöning i form av fisk. Ägaren vann en helkväll med Sköna Sonja. Tiden mättes med ett avancerat solur som var uppsatt vid domartri-bunen. Publiken kunde naturligtvis också se tidsförloppet. Man kunde spela och satsa på vinnaren. Man hade ett system av färgad småsten som gällde som valuta eller myntsystem. Slutligen vann Krälande Kräket de sammanlagda momenten. Ett stort antal kulörta stenar bytte ägare till somligas glädje och andras besvikelse. Nu var det artisternas tur att uppträda. Alligatorerna hade ett rep bundet runt den långa nosen och repet gick i en slinga ner till svansspetsen. Artisterna tog tag mitt på repslingan och började att snurra runt i allt snabbare takt om sin egen axel. På en given signal lät man kräldjuren flyga genom luften när båda artisterna vände an-sikte mot ansikte. Djuren for i väg som en kanonkula och blev skickligt gripen av respektive artist. Fram och tillbaka ett antal gånger när man plötsligt skickade Alice och Ally vertikalt upp i luften och under tiden hoppade PukkelPuh genom en flammande eldring som MukkelMu kastade fram emot honom. Väsande släcktes elden i den lilla dammen som låg bakom ryggen på PukkelPuh. Båda djuren landade säkert i armarna på ar-tisterna under stort jubel och bifall från publiken. Efter att uppträdandet var slut leddes alla alligatorerna till ett stall där djuren hade sitt eget bås. Över stalldörren hade man spikat upp en skylt som var upphittad ute på floden. Det var en pampig skylt med snidade bokstäver på en polerad ekplanka. Bokstäverna var ifyllda med röd färg som framhävde texten mycket bra och synligt. Där stod: Mårten Mås tillverkning av dam- och resväskor i äkta kräldjursskinn. Man hade ingen aning om vad det betydde utan menade att den hade magiska egenskaper. En annan uppskattad övning var åla fisket med gamle kroken Metusa-lem som var försedd med en länk av stål fastsatt på svansroten. Metusalem satte man mitt på en stor flotte och paddlade endast ett kort avstånd ut ifrån flodbanken där alla åskådare stod. Metusalem blev nu tryckt ut över kanten på flotten och dök genast mot botten. Under mycket plaskande och morrande återkom Metusalem med en jättestor elektrisk ål i käften. Ålen piskade våldsamt med svansen och gav hela tiden Metusalem kraftiga elektriska stötar. ”Vilken tuff rackare”, menade Kalle Kanon beundrande. Man kunde räkna åtskilliga brännmärken och ärr på Metusalems långa nos. Men han brydde sig inte det minsta om alla stötar och smällar, men lämnade den elektriska ålen i en tunna där den inte kunde fly ifrån. Metu-salem dök omgående efter en ny ål och snart var tunnan full av ål. Publiken applåderade och menade att Metusalem var värd en smaskig belöning för det dryga arbetet. Nu bar folket fram brända lerkärl som var tillverkade efter en speciell metod så mittendelen runt kärlet var transparent. Man la en ål i varje kruka och ställde upp dessa två och två. Sedan förband man krukorna med en bit hampa med inbyggd koppartråd. Detta retade upp ålarna till den milda grad att de hela tiden spydde ut elektricitet. Krukorna fungerade nu som lampor och lyste upp kvällen med ett för-trollande sken. Man använde grön el och förnybar energi. När man hade lämnat folkfesten och gått till ett lugn del av slottet berät-tade UnkaDuncas att de inte alltid hade bott i träskmarken, men inne på soliga bördiga slätter var det lätt att försörja hela befolkningen. ”Våra gudar berättade för cirka trehundra år sedan att några nya och mer kraftfulla gudar skulle komma via havet i stora praktfulla flytetyg och er-övra och fördriva mitt folk Svinginerna”, berättade UnkaDuncas. ”Men blev det så”, frågade Pelle Pistol. ”Kunde ni inte driva inkräktarna tillbaka i havet.” ”Nej det var inte möjligt då de hade lierat sig med vår största gud Vul-canus som spydde ut rök, kaos och död. Vi hade inte en chans utan fick fly för livet”, svarade UnkaDuncas bedrövat. ”Vet ni vad anföraren för dessa fartyg hette?” frågade ÖffliBöffli då han hade fått mycket bra skolbetyg i historia och kanske kunde få en klarare bild av händelsen. ”Ja, han hette Herman Kortfes och hans soldater kallades Konkvästadorer. Det var fruktansvärda soldater som inte gick att besegra. Där han landade på kusten, byggdes sedan upp en stad som fick namnet ’Flera Krus’”, fortsatte UnkaDuncas. ”Då vet jag vad ni har blivit utsatta för”, replikerade ÖffliBöffli. ”Kommer du ihåg vad er kung hette på den tiden”, frågade ÖffliBöffli vidare. ”Ja, det var PontePuma. Han var väl i och för sig ingen trevlig kung som sådan, då han lät prästerna offra levande människor till gudarna i hopp om bra skördar så alla kunde få mat varje dag. Det är så det har berättats munt-ligt genom alla generationer sedan dess”, medgav UnkaDuncas lite generat. ”Vi har en tidstunnel som sträcker sig vida om och kan ta oss tillbaka till den tiden då det hände. Varje steg neråt i tunneln utgör ett år tillbaka i tiden. Om vi går till det stället som är markerat med 1519 så kommer vi precis till den tiden när de stora vita gudarna ankom”, informerade Unka-Duncas. ”Det var intressant”, utbröt Pelle Pistol. ”Då kan vi kanske påverka ut-fallet?” ”Nej tyvärr inte. Det som har skett går inte att ändra på. Men vi kan kanske betrakta hela eller delar av förloppet”, tyckte ÖffliBöffli. ”Ja, vi kan se dem men kan de se oss eller veta att vi är där? Det är vi inte säkra på”, slog UnkaDuncas fast. ”En annan fråga är hur långt ni har gått ner för tidstrappan?” frågade ÖffliBöffli. ”Den går kanske ända till tidens begynnelse.” ”

Presentation av ÖffliBöffli Mot nya Horisonter. 2300916 Följ med på vännernas ÖffliBöffli, Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanons nya hissande äventyr. Kapitel 1 Ombord på Sixtus igen. Kapitel 2 Med kurs mot Zardinien. Kapitel 3 Slaget om Ballastearna. Kapitel 4 Cartagena på Iberia. Kapitel 5 Till gruvområdet. Kapitel 6 Till Caborandum. Kapitel 7 Helvedet porten. Kapitel 8 Hemma igen 1914. Kapitel 9 Cirkus kommer till staden. Kapitel 10 Fedeby. Kapitel 11 Sirka. Kapitel 12 Stock Holmen. Kapitel 13 Staraja Ladoga. Kapitel 14 Holmgård nästa anhalt. Kapitel 15 Resan till Könugård. Kapitel 16 Resan till Könugård fortsätter. Kapitel 17 Batmania. Kapitel 18 En expedition mot Måskvatt Kapitel 19 Kyiv Kapitel 20 Mot Mickla gård Kapitel 21 Ankomst till Mickla gård Kapitel 22 Bysanz ett mångkulturellt nav. Kapitel 23 Zamaza och Alkasiras. Kapitel 24 Skatteindrivning i Rumelien. Kapitel 25 Ett besök i Tarambura. Kapitel 26 Rymdresa mot okänd himlakropp. Kapitel 27 Resa mot känd bergstopp. Kapitel 28 Resa mot Lhasa. Kapitel 29 Resa mot Bharat. Kapitel 30 Hos alferna. Kapitel 31 Growly. Kapitel 32 Bengolito. Kapitel 33 Bullowonga stammen. Kapitel 34 Buddistisk Tempel. Kapitel 35 Daddivous och hans transport. Kapitel 36 Mutter Kurrage. Kapitel 37 Tyrannen Sultanas. Kapitel 38 Resan fortsätter mot Bharat. Kapitel 39 Den människoätande tigern. Kapitel 40 Flodpiraterna. Kapitel 41 Änkebränningen. Kapitel 42 Lycklig åter syn i Tarambura. Kapitel 43 Olympos det heliga berget. Kapitel 44 Nedanför det heliga berget Olympos. Kapitel 45 Staden Pella. Kapitel 46 Persiska fälttåget. Kapitel 47 Timbuktu. Kapitel 48 Grottmålningar i Uweinat. Kapitel 49 Åter i oasen Siwa. Kapitel 50 Resan mot Cairo. Kapitel 51 Vandring mot Smäckka. Kapitel 52 Kush. Kapitel 53 Mot den stora sjön. Kapitel 54 Krokodilguden. Kapitel 19 Kyiv Nästa morgon församlades alla inblandade ute på den öppna plattformen där man landade och startade flygningarna. ÖffliBöffli fick flyga med Bart Bat och Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon samma Batmanier som de flög med till Måskvatt. Man hade blivit vana vid varandra och det kändes särskild tryggt för flygpassagerana. Med endast en mellanlandning så anlände man till Könugård efter midnatt vilket passade Bart Bat mycket bra på han ville vara osynlig intill man skulle sätta i gång med de nya uppdrag som vännerna inte fick något att veta om. De skulle inte kunna avslöja något varken frivilligt eller ofrivilligt. Överraskningsmomentet var en stor del av hela den nya insatsen. Glada i hågen travade vännerna ut i staden Kyiv för att hitta Ottar Vendelkråka och åter förena sig med fartyget och dess besättning. Natten var mörk och gatubelysning var obefintlig. ”Stopp där och stå blixt stilla” ropade byvakten med hög röst. Man kunde se de hotfulla hillebarderna som byvakterna var utrustade med förutom var sin grov batong. De två väktarna hade uppfattat trion som något skum. Kanske som en inbrotts grupp på väg mot någon förmögen borgares hus. ÖffliBöffli, Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon trädde fram i väkternas svaga fackla sken och blev ingående granskat. ”Vi vill veta vem ni er och vart ni är på väg” krävde den ena vakten och mönstrade trio upp och ner och sedan ner och upp. ”Jag heter ÖffliBöffli och detta är mina vänner Pelle pistol och Kalle Kanon. Vi är på väg till hamnen för att hitta Ottar Vendelkråka och hans fartyg” ”Hmm ja, det fartyget löpte faktiskt in i går eftermiddag” vakten hade dämpat sin aggressivitet. ”Men då kan ni kanske anvisa oss vägen till hamnen” menade Pelle Pistol. ”Vi kan göra mera än det. Vi vill eskortera er dit dels för att ni skall komma säkert fram och dels för att då får vi se om ni verkligen känner Ottar Vendelkråka” bestämde vakterna och man travade iväg till hamnen som låg ganska nära invid. Gryningen var redan där och nu gick det att urskilja omgivningarna. En stor pälsklädd och morgontrött person kom fram på däcket efter att vakterna upprepade gångar hade ropat efter Ottar Vendelkråka. ”Är det du som är Ottar Vendelkråka?” Vaktarna glodde på honom. ”Ja det är högst den samma. Vad vill ni en så här ärlamorgon och förstöra min goda sömn” frågade Ottar Vendelkråka och gned trött båda ögonen ihop om att se bättre. Nu sakta inså den trötta hjärnan vad det var han så. ”Vi alla ölhallas asguder är det inte ÖffliBöffli, Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon som jag ser ljus levande här fram för mig” Ottars Vendelkråkas glädes vrål gick inte att ta miste på. Alert hoppade han upp på kajen och kramade vännerna. ”Jag trodde på riktigt att ni hade gått förlorat i den häftiga snöstormen” Ottar Vendelkråka tittade från den ena till den andra för att fastställa att detta inte var någon synvilla. ”Vi var ganska nära att omkomma i snön men blev räddat i absolut sista momangen. Vi har en lång historia att berätta som vi kan ta vi tillfälle” ÖffliBöffli kände att han behövde lite tid att smälta alla intryck. ”Kom ombord så skall ni få varm havregröt med späck och lunken öl” Ottar Vendelkråka slog menade ut med armen dit kökstjänsten höll på med förberedelserna till dagens första måltid. Nu gick snacket för fullt och alla talade i mun på var andra så det hela blev till ett sammelsurium. ” När vi nästan hade givit upp. Maten var slut och vi hade inte fått bort speciellt mycket av alla trädstammarna som låg över floden. Då kom det en lång procession av män och kvinnor med stora draghästar till vår hjälp. De kallade sig Tavoloner och hade fått order av några konstig överjordiska varelser att hjälp oss. Till gengäld skulle de befria hövdingen vackra dotter Zicolina ifrån en skurk som de kallade Salusinikorv Putting” orden trängdes i Ottar Vendelkråkas hals så de nästan hade svårt att komma ut och fram. ”Allt detta kan vi bekräfta till punkt och pricka” svarade ÖffliBöffli.” vi var med som observatörer när Batmanierna straffad Babirusias maktelit inklusive Salusinikorv Putting. De är nu definit ur cirkulation och kan inte skada ytterligare” ÖffliBöffli var stolt över att ha varit med att bistå till en sådan välgärning för mänskligheten. ”Men vem är då dessa Batmanier” blev en naturlig följdfråga. ”Det är lite svårt att förklara men om du kan hålla dig vaken och nykter så gå upp till midnattsmässan ikväll i den stora Katedralen. Då skall du få se något som varken du eller jag har sett förut tror jag” föreslog ÖffliBöffli. Han hade fått detta tipset av Bart Bat. Men det var fortfarande mitt på dagen och vännerna beslutade sig till att ta en närmare titt på Kyiv. Man släntrade i maklig takt från hamnen upp mot stadens centrum. Staden profil dominerades av den stora Sofia katedralen med en längd på femtiofem meter och som låg vid stora kyrk torget. Kyrkklockorna började att låta för påminna församlingen om att komma till mässan för att höra herrens budskap. Katedralen var flankerad på ena sidan av ett kloster och på andra sidan vad man förmodade var någon form av rådhus dit stadens överhöghet höll till. ”Jag föreslår att vi tar och går till klostret och besöker klosterträdgården ”ÖffliBöffli tittade på de två andra för att se om någon av dom hade andra idéer. Då ingen kom fram med nya förslag ja då gick man till klosterträdgården. Klosterträdgården var uppdelad i flera avsnitt beroende på vad man vill åstadkomma. Man hade en ganska stor medicinsk örtagård, var blommande och doftande växer var strikt uppdelad i respektive ruter för varje växt. Munkarna hade mycket god kännedom om olika växer helande egenskaper. Munkarna hade ett hospice var de tog emot alla människor, rika som fattiga och erbjöd läkarevård kostnadsfritt. Ofta lyckades man att bota ganska många sjukdomar. Man kunde även utföra kirurgiska ingrepp, sätta ihop brutna arma och ben. Den andra delen av trädgården odlade man grönsaker och frukt. Det gav ett stort bidrag till klosterköket. Även där kunde fattiga och behövande människor få ett gratis mål mat. Munkarna var mycket uppskattade av befolkningen. ”Vad härligt att bara sitta här i solen och ta in alla växternas färg och dofter. Den kalla vintern tycks vara avlägsen långt borta med sin kyla och umbärande” ÖffliBöffli lutade sig tillbaka på bänken och sträckte ut benen i välbehag. ”Ja jag håller med dig. Det ända som saknas är någon betjäning med ett glas kall lemonad” Pelle Pistol slickade sina morrhår med tanken om en härlig dryck. ”När vi har suttit här tillräckligt länge så har jag pejlat in en taverna på andra sidan torget. Där kan vi säkert få lemonad. Jag skulle nog hellre vilja ett stop kallt öl” Kalle Kanon var inte så mycket för söt dricka. Efter någon halvtimme verkade tanken på något att dricka i sommarvärmen lockande. Man korsade torget och dök in på tavernan. Strax kom en serveringsdam fram och frågade vad som önskades. När beställningarna var lagda flyttade man sig ut i pergolan för att njuta av i den milda brisen. ”Jag undra vad det är väsen man kan höra dit borta vid rådhuset” ÖffliBöffli tänkte högt och fortsatte” det låter nästan som om det finns någon publik evenemang” ”Troligtvis ” sa Pelle Pistol” det man hör är liksom när något har hänt, typ en brottningsmatch eller så”. ”Om det är brottning på gång så vill jag gå dit och titta” Kalle Kanon hade ju vunnit flera brottningsmästerskap under sin tid i armén”. Efter sista slurken hade runnit ner i halsarna begav man sig iväg nyfiken på vad de skulle få se. Men det var absolut inte vad de hade föreställd sig. Uppe på en scen hade man ställd upp en galge och en schavott. Bödeln var klädd i en rött sidenkappa med en svart huv på huvudet för att understryka hans höga ämbetsposition. Bredvid stod ett antal svartklädda hantlangare som villigt lydde mästerbödeln order och anvisningar. Ett antal kroppar låg redan på rad. Några hade blivit hängda och andra var ett huvud kortare. ”Åh fy, vad är detta för hemska föreställning. Och hur kan folk jubla varje gång en stackare mister livet?” ÖffliBöffli var förfärat. Trots att han hade sedd mycket under sina resor, av vad folk var kapabla att göra mot varandra kunde han aldrig vänja sig vid synen. Hans humanistiska livsåskådning var orubbat. ” De fångarna som förs ut hit för att avrättas är brickor i det stora schackspelet som på går inne på gården” upplyste man i publiken om. ”Menar du att man spelar med människor som insats?” ÖffliBöffli kunde knappt tro sina öron. ”Ja, varje person som avrättas har varit en spelpjäs som har blivit slagen ur spelbrädan och måste därför gå den hemska vägen fram till denna scen” ”Så hemskt, så förfärligt” ÖffliBöffli viste inte hur han skulle uttrycka sig för att visa sin avsky. ”Alla spelpjäserna är kriminella som får en andra chans. Om man inte blir slagen av brädan, ja då får man gå tillbaka till sina celler och avvakta nästa spelvecka därpå. De får dessutom bättre mat än de andra fångarna” den berättande glada mannen fortsatte” om man har klarat av fem omgångar utan att blivit slagen, då får man sin frihet tillbaka” Vännernas gick in på gården där ytan var uppdelad i åtta x åtta vita och svarta fält. Vita pjäser spelar mot svarta pjäser. På var sin kortsida av spelplanen uppe på balkongen satt den spelare som representerade svart eller vit. Ett stort timglas stod framme så alla inne kunde se detta. När sanden hade runnit ut måste spelaren göra sitt drag. Det fortsatta intill ena sidan hade vunnit och hela skådespelet kunde avbrytas för sedan upprepas en vecka senare. Vem som helst kunde utmana den sittande mästaren mot först att betala en förutbestämd summa i klingande mynt. ”Vid mina morrhår. Detta tycker jag är magstarkt” Pelle Pistol som gammal krigare var normalt inte så kräsmagat, visade tydligt vad han tyckte om denna tillställningen. ”Jag tycker att vi skall gå tillbaka till tavernan och få något att stärka oss på nu med engång” Kalle Kanon hade också fått nog. Efter tavernan gick vännerna tillbaka till fartyget var de hittade en plats var de kunde blunda bort en stund och hela den senaste hemska upplevelse. Efter ett tag kom Ottar Vendelkråka och puttade till ÖffliBöffli med foten för att han skulle vakna. ”Är det inte nu vi skall gå till katedralen för att se det som vi inte kan föreställa oss” Ottar Vendelkråka så frågande ut när ÖffliBöffli skakade på huvudet och kom på benen. ”Nej, det är först till midnattsmässan som intressanta uppenbarelser kommer att föregå” ÖffliBöffli ville nu gå till något matställe då magen kurrade. ”du kommer då att se något häpnadsväckande, något som du inte kan föreställa dig” ÖffliBöffli tyckte om att låta lite mystisk. Nu hade Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon också kommit på benen och grinade så gott och konspiratorisk då de viste vad ÖffliBöffli pratade om. Biskopen Pretorius Cantonare skulle naturligtvis och bli en del av upplevelsen. Det ju faktisk han som skulle bli kvällens huvudfigur. Nu gick alla man upp till torget för att hitta något bra ställe med mat som var ätbar och var man inte bli uppskörtat. Torget låg lämpligt nog intill marknaden som var igång varje dag året runt. Det var här invånarna i Kyiv hämtade sina råvaror. Husmödrar och kökspigor från mera förmögna hushåll dividerade och prutad med handels ståndens ägare. Man hade utvecklad detta till ett mycket förfinat system. Om man betalade det begärde priset rätt upp och ner så blev säljaren besviken att inte få demonstrera sina förhandlings färdigheter och ordsvammel. ”Jag tycker vi skall gå in här hos Mamma Mulles välkända krog” Ottar Vendelkråka hade varit många gångar i Kyiv och kände till ställen man kunde besöka och vad mera viktig var vilka man skulle undvika om man ville ha hälsan i behåll. Inga protesterade och snart var man bänkad runt ett solitt bord av ekplankor. Rejäla sejdlar med skummande öl dök upp utan man behövde beställa. Ölet var en naturlig del av en måltid här. ”Vad det dofter gott ” Kalle Kanon slickade sig om munnen i förväntning när han tittade på den stora steken som roterade på spettet över den öppna elden mitt i värdshuset. ”Det är en Mutton av bästa sorten som är mycket stolta över att avla här.” Mamma Mulle visade att Ottar Vendelkråka var en uppskattat återkommande gäst som aldrig var snål med en extra slant till betjäningen. Det är en sådan som personalen uppskattar och kommer ihåg. Mamma Mulle gick fram till steken med en stor förskärare och ett fat och började skiva saftigt och mört kött. Snabbt hade Kalle Kanon ställd sig bakom Mamma Mulle och räckte ut sin matplanka. En stor köttbit landade på plankan så det stänkte om det. En tjock skiva nybakat grovbröd fick också plats på plankan. Alla tog samma rätt och lika bra det var det enda som fanns på menyn. Mamma Mulles krog låg ut med floden så man kunde se vad som rörde sig. Båtar, skepp och fartyg kom hela tiden förbi. Antingen lämnade de Kyiv eller också var de ankommande. Mörkret började att lägga sig över staden och snart skulle alla troende gå till midnattsmässan för att lovsjunga och be till sin himmelska herre. Nu bröt sällskapet upp ifrån krogen och begav sig till kyrkan som låg på andra sidan av stortorget. Ottar Vendelkråka gick in i kyrkan. Men vännerna försvann bakom byggnaden dit de skulle möta Bart Bat och hans fru Bartolina. ”Väl mött” Bart Bat tittade glatt på trion när de trädde fram ur mörkret ” nu skall ni få höra hur kvällen föreställning är tänkt att gå till. Jag kommer att landa på mittgången nere vid ingångsdörren och gå hela vägen fram till altaret. Alla kyrkbesökare får tillfälle att se Djävulen i egen höga person. Biskopen Pretorius Cantonare kommer att slå korset tecken fram för sig och uppmana mig att flyga tillbaka till helvedet dit han inbillar sig att jag kommer ifrån. Det skall bli spännande. ÖffliBöffli följer med mig och Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon med min fru och hennes syster. Vi flyger in och sätter oss längst uppe under taket på någon avsats till det är tid att uppträdda” Bart Bat var uppspelt med tanken på det sprätt man skulle spela Pretorius Cantonare. Predikan började i vanlig ordning med ”Var hälsat ni herrens lamm” ”Ni måste se på er själva och de synder som ni har begått emot herrens bud. Det är en tung börda att bära för den svaga människan. Men Herren har visligen inriktat en möjligt för honom att hjälpa er att bära denna börda. Han har per dekret till vår heliga fader i Fnattikanet givet honom i uppdrag att upprätta en biktstol. Där kan var och en komma och berätta om sina synder och få förlåtelse.” Menigheten svarade med ett halleluja. ”Prisa Herren för hans nåd och vishet” ”Men det räcker inte hela vägen att slippa skärselden eller hamna i helvedet.” dånade Pretorius Cantonare vidare från predikstolen som var byggd som ett podium över menighetens huvuden. ”men även här finns det möjlighet att förkortat tiden i skärselden. Ge pengar till den heliga kyrkan så kan ni lindra denna stränga provningen innan ni kan komma till paradiset” Pretorius Cantonare ögon lyste av girighet vid tanken om alla slantar som kom in kassan och vad han kunde köpa. ”När mynten i kassan klingar själen ut ur skärselden springer” sjöng en trestämmig munk kör mycket vackert. Akustiken i kyrkan var underbar. Menigheten böjde sina skuldtyngda huvuden. Ja, somliga gömde sitt huvud i händerna i ren skräck om vad som skulle komma. ”Men” fortsatte Pretorius Cantonare” om man köper heliga reliker kan det hjälpa till. Vi har nyligen fått delar av den heliga Antonius skelett. En liten bit av den reliken får ni i en liten påse med ett silkesnöre så ni kan bära den in på kroppen.” Menigheten rusade fram till en munk som stod vid en stor kista stor nog till att rymma skelett efter en hel kyrkogård. Åtgången av påsar med skelettdelar gick strykande. Men nu hände det något som biskop Pretorius Cantonare inte i sina vildaste drömmar hade kunnat föreställa sig. Han stod där i sin juvelbesatta kåpa med kräcklan i höger hand och på huvudet den spetsiga mitran. Två vita gestalter vingade sig ner och ställde sig fram för högaltaret dit Pretorius Cantonare sedan skulle ta sig ner från predikstolen för att be till herren. På altaret stod flera tjocka meterhöga vaxljus om lyste upp altartavlan som verkligen fick alla guld och silverinläggningarna att glänsa. Osande rökelsekar skickade ut sina bedövande och kvävande dofter. Det var Bartolina och hennes syster som fladdrade lite till med vingarna så att alla kunde uppfatta att änglar har vingar och de flyger ända upp till himmelen. ”Hur är det Pretorius Cantonare, lever du upp till den heliga skriftens ord om att dela med de fattiga”? Ville Bartolina veta. Pretorius Cantonare skakade så av rädsla att han inte klarade att svara. ”Hur mycket har du delat ut till de fattiga och behövande?” Inget svar. ”Det kan jag berätta. Du har behållit allting för dig själv så att du har kunnat leva flott i ditt palats och smörja kråset på menighetens bekostnad” Bartolina spände ögonen i Pretorius Cantonare som inte viste vart han skulle ta vägen. ”Kom hit och ställ dig fram för mig och min syster Angelica” krävde Bartolina och på vacklade ben kröp Pretorius Cantonare ner från predikstolen och ställde sig fram för Bartolina och hennes syster. ”Från och med nu ger du allting till de fattiga sjuka och behövande och behåller inte längre något för dig själv. Dina munkar skall bedriva gratis sjukvård till den som behöver. Så kanske du kommer till rätta med din skuld hos herren” Pretorius Cantonare muttrade gråtande sitt ja till påbuden. Han hade inte att sätta emot. Bartolina och Angelica flög ut av kyrkan. Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon hade varit vittne till hela föreställningen som nu skulle fortsätta med ännu en spektakulär övning. Bert Bart flög in och ställde sig fram för Pretorius Cantonare som inte hade hunnit att återhämta sig. ”Vad bryter du dig om sådan trams. Du ha ju sålt din själ till mig Djävulen härskar i de ondas rike” Bert Bart fräste och ÖffliBöffli viftade med den fula svarta och hårig svans som de hade fixad med anledning av dagens uppträdande. ”Vi skall snart mötas igen på troll- och djävuls berget och där skall vi träffa alla troll och häxor. Vi skall begå allahanda förfärliga illdåd. Du är välkommen som vanligt” slutade Bert Bart som nu flaxade ut ur kyrkan. Pretorius Cantonare hade sjunkit ihop och låg fullständig utslagen och gav småkonstiga ljud ifrån sig. När man flyttade på honom så man en stor illaluktande fläck på golvet. Pretorius Cantonare fick aldrig sitt normala förstånd tillbaka. Han blev den första patienten på det nya munksjukhuset. Denna kvällen bekräftade att det fanns båda goda och onda krafter. Änglar och djävular. Man tog avsked med Bart Bat, Bartolina och Angelica på båten dit man flög direkt ifrån kyrkan. Vännerna tackade än en gång för räddningen av sina liv. I väg flög Batmanierna med stora vingslag. Efter ett bra tag kom Ottar Vendelkråka in vacklade på fartyget. ”Nu skall ni bara höra vad jag har sett och upplevd. Det är helt otroligt. Ni kommer inte att tro mig” berättade Ottar Vendelkråka. Och med darrig och andfådd röst fick vännerna hela historien från Ottar Vendelkråkas synvinkel. Det tog lång tid innan man kunde sova. Konstigt att Ottar Vendelkråka inte frågade var vännerna befanns sig under tiden predikan på gick. Nästa morgon lämnade man Kyiv med sikte på Micklagård.

Chapter 24. Singeing the Beard. The quartet trudged down the time tunnel in silence. Each was lost in his own thoughts. ÖffliBöffli was thinking about how close they had come to leaving their heads in a basket under the guillotine. Forward, or rather downward, they went at a leisurely pace. Out of nowhere, a massive iron ball came clattering through a shattered door. The door had been splintered into smithereens. Not a single piece was large enough to carry a date. Kalle Kanon studied the iron ball, and with his highly trained artillery eye, identified it as 36-pound cannonball. "Someone nearby is firing a very powerful Kanon for whatever purpose. Let's go through the door and find out what's going on,'' Kalle Kanon said, excited at the prospect of seeing the enormous Kanon and perhaps meeting some healthy action. That grade of Kanon was not something one encountered every day. After some consideration and discussion, they decided to venture through the time warp. They emerged onto a flowery meadow which sloped gently down toward the sea. A mighty full-rigged warship lay out off shore. All her Kanon ports were open. From them issued puffs of black smoke. "Throw yourselves to the ground! NOW!'' yelled Kalle Kanon. ''That ship is firing at us!" All four of them dropped to the ground and tried to make themselves as small as possible. A second later, cannonballs whizzed over their heads and landed further up the meadow. Large pillars of earth exploded high into the air where the cannonballs had struck the ground with heavy thuds. Then they noticed that large canvasses had been erected. On them had been painted an array of fighting sailing ships. "False alarm! Relax! They're just having target practice'', Pelle Pistol assured them and as he stood up. "Yes, they sure need the practice," growled Kalle Kanon. ''They're miserable artillery men. Poor shots." "Let's move along and try to find out where we've landed,'' said ÖffliBöffli, taking the lead. They came upon a country road winding between green knolls and fields of swaying crops. After a while, they met a farmer leisurely driving a hay wagon pulled by a team of oxen. The old man stopped and stared suspiciously at the four in front of him. "Who are you?'' the farmer asked sourly, displaying the remnants of a set of very bad teeth. ÖffliBöffli introduced himself and his friends, and asked, "What country is this?" "That's the dumbest question I've heard in years. You are in the realm of Her Majesty Elizabeth the First, our glorious Gloriana, Queen of England, the world's only real country. Which country, indeed! There is no other,'' the farmer snapped sourly. ''His bad teeth presumably cause him severe digestive problems, which would explain why he's so sour,'' muttered ÖffliBöffli. "One last silly question, if you please. What year is this?'' he added. "You really are a numskull! It's the year of our Lord 1588. And before you ask any more scatterbrained questions, this is the road to Plymouth, the world's biggest naval base,'' the farmer replied, as he spat onto the road and urged his oxen forward. ''Delightful fellow,'' said Pelle Pistol. They continued down the dry, dusty road. The day was sunny and bright. ''The exact opposite of the tunnel. How wonderful!'' said Unka Duncas. Soon, they were so parched in the heat, that their tongues felt like shoe leather. Luckily, after the next bend in the road, they saw in the distance a modest little building displaying a sign that swayed gently in the mild breeze. It was not easy to read the sign from so far away, but Pelle Pistol, with his sharp vision, croaked in a parched voice, "It's an inn. Thank goodness.'' As they drew nearer, the sign announced, “Halfway Inn”. They entered the premises. It was empty, but for elderly, one-legged man wearing a black eye patch over his left eye and a large brass ring in his left earlobe. On the armrest of the rocking chair in which he sat, perched two colourful birds. They screeched at the newcomers for disturbing the peace. "Welcome, gentlemen, to the Halfway Inn,'' greeted the man, struggling to rise from the rocking chair. He hobbled with some difficulty on his pegleg and positioned himself behind the bar. "My name is Henry Morgan, owner of this fine establishment. What can I do for you gentlemen?'' he asked cheerily. "Do you have cold ale?'' Kalle Kanon asked. "Oh yes, I most surely do'', replied the old man, and in a jiffy swung four foaming tankards onto the bar. They all downed their drinks thirstily and with a clunk, all four empty tankards were slammed back onto the bar. The glasses were refilled to the brim. No one protested. "I once was a pirate, a buccaneer, a corsair or whatever you fancy to call me. Terror of the Seven Seas, they called me. I've taken a lot of gold and treasure, but spent most of it on women and gambling,'' the old man related. "Well, sir, you certainly look like a pirate even though you're retired. The only thing missing, is a colourful parrot on your shoulder squawking, 'Hey ho, scoundrels, empty the rum glass and let's be merry,' or something like that,'' said ÖffliBöffli with a pleasant smile. " You're right. I don't have a parrot. Instead, I have those two valuable birds over there,'' he said, pointing to the rocking chair. ''Hackis and Knackis, they're called and two very intelligent birds they are. They supplement both my hearing and my vision,'' Henry Morgan related. "It was them that told me that you were on your way here after meeting that grumpy old codger, Sam Sour on his ox wagon. I'll let you in on a little secret, as you look like game fellows. When times are tough, Hackis and Knackis contribute to our sparse coffers by nicking a silver spoon or a silver coin or twos from the wealthy. I prefer coins. Less easy to prove ownership than spoons. I won this tavern in a card game and it's now the only thing I own besides my birds." "Clever birds!'' grunted Kalle Kanon. ''By the way, we are colleagues. Him and me, we're in the same profession as you," he added, pointing at Pelle Pistol. "Well, shiver my timbers! Let's toast to that! I recognise fine fellows when I see them,'' said the old man, producing a rum bottle from under the counter. He set out five pewter tankards. ''Just three, will suffice'', said ÖffliBöffli. The publican poured three generous portions of rum. He raised his tankard toward Kalle Kanon and Pelle Pistol and said, ''Cheers, my hearties! To bountiful sailing!'' The rum loosened the old man's tongue. It seemed he hadn't had anyone to talk to for a long time, and was savouring the company of jolly colleagues before him. He rambled on. Conversation flowed back and forth. Stories, yarns, experiences, boasts and tall tales were exchanged in profusion. "You'd be interested to know that England is preparing its defence against a Spanish invasion fleet. Hostilities could start at any time. Admirals John Hawkins and Francis Drake have modernised the fleet and are outfitting the ships for war and bolstering them with bigger crews and extra Cannons. So, they are in desperate need of more sailors and soldiers. So be careful you're not press-ganged,'' warned Henry Morgan. "You must have seen many battles yourself,'' Kalle Kanon said. ''Tell us about your favourite one?" "Oh yes, how about this? At one point, we sailed into Caramaibo in a completely insane manoeuvre through a very narrow strait, called Tablasso. Spies spotted in advance that we were approaching in full sail with our Kanon ports open. All the residents fled inland, and of course, they took all their valuable belongings with them,'' Henry Morgon began his tale. "So, you didn't get a big haul?'' asked ÖffliBöffli. "No, we just turned around and aimed at getting back to the ocean,'' Henry Morgan replied. '' But it wasn't that simple. The Spaniards had laid an ambush. They blocked the strait with three warships. We were really in a tight spot, but when piracy is your profession, you're used to often fighting at a disadvantage, as you boys will know." "How did you get past three warships?'' Pelle Pistol wanted to know. "We split up. Some of us went ashore and attacked the ships from the land side, which they hadn't expected. One of their ships was disabled immediately, and the crew ran the ship aground to avoid sinking to the bottom of the sea. Then we sent in a fire ship filled with gunpowder and all Cannons loaded. The fire ship hit the second ship, which sank in a huge explosion.'' "Then the match was more even,'' said Kalle Kanon. "Yes, but then we had to contend with the fort which guarded the strait with its heavy cannons,'' said Henry Morgan. "So, we feigned an attack on the land side, which fooled the governor into moving his Cannons to the land bastions so they could defend themselves against our attack." "That was a clever move'', ÖffliBöffli said. "Then it was child's play to capture the third and last ship. We got all our men back on board, and we sailed back through the strait, out to sea, safe from the enemy but without having collected any bounty,'' Henry Morgan concluded. "How come your tavern is called 'Halfway Inn'?'' asked Pelle Pistol. " Well, when you look up, you have heaven, and when you look down, then you have hell. So, we are halfway to the one or the other. We'll see which way the journey goes for me when it's time for this old pirate to cash in his chips,'' chuckled Henry Morgan, taking another hearty swig of rum. Henry Morgan peered with interest and rather drunkenly at Unka Duncas, who'd remained silent during all the merry banter. "I could use someone to help me in the tavern. I wonder if I could buy this darky from you? If so, name your price,'' said Henry Morgan. ÖffliBöffli bristled. "Unka Duncas is neither servant nor slave! He is our very good friend and colleague,'' ÖffliBöffli replied indignantly. ''Moreover, he is the high priest of a noble people. And with that, the conversation was over. Henry Morgan conveniently fell sound asleep after gulping another rum. His head hit the table with a loud bang. Snoring filled the room. ''Sounds like a lake full of bullfrogs,'' were Unka Duncas' first words of the evening. The friends looked questioningly at each other. "Let's find somewhere to sleep. We need a good rest after our strenuous and eventful few days,'' said ÖffliBöffli. Everyone found a more or less cosy niche and the fatigue and experiences of the day took their toll. The next morning, before Henry Morgan had risen, they gathered some provisions in the form of cheese, bread and thin beer. Hackis and Knackis started squawking but they stopped immediately, when the friends left a generous handful of coins on the bar in payment for the beer, the rum, the provisions and the accommodation. They set off towards Plymouth. Walking along the dusty road, they happily munched the food they had bought. Many heavily loaded wagons, pulled either by oxen or horses, passed them by. Most of the cargo was ship supplies, ranging from gunpowder, cannonballs and bullets to rope, sail-cloth, and provisions. It was evident that something momentous was underway. As the city walls of Plymouth came into sight, they passed a beggar sitting by the roadside. "Good people!'' called the beggar after them. They ignored him. "Good people!'' he repeated, ''I have an important message for you. Come back." "He probably just wants alms from us,'' Pelle Pistol said, ''Let's keep going." "No, let's hear what he has to say," ÖffliBöffli said, returning to the beggar. "What do you have to say to us?'' ÖffliBöffli asked. "I have been visited by Hackis and Knackis. They brought a message from Henry Morgan.'' ÖffliBöffli was both surprised and sceptical, but asked politely, "Well, please tell us then.'' "When coins jingle in the pot, words will jingle from my mouth.'' The beggar was a wretched fellow with skinny arms and bandy legs and not a tooth in his mouth. "Be careful! Don't get too close!'' he looks as if he might have leprosy, and that's contagious!'' warned Kalle Kanon. "Leprosy!'' sneered the beggar, ''No, my only illness is poverty, not leprosy! My muscles and bones have been weak since childhood because of lack of nourishment. I entered a vicious cycle - poverty, lack of food, weak body, unable to work, no earnings, more poverty - and the cycle starts again and again. And, big fellow, don't worry, poverty is not contagious.'' Kalle Kanon growled to hide his embarrassment. ÖffliBöffli threw a silver coin into the pot, but the beggar demanded more. After the fifth coin had clinked, he began to speak. "Go into the city and find a tavern called the ‘Cockhead & Fowl'. There, someone will contact you,'' concluded the beggar as he limped towards the nearest pub. "Well, let's go,'' said Pelle Pistol and they set off for the city gate. The guards questioned them meticulously and scrutinized them suspiciously from top to bottom. Finding nothing suspicious, they were granted entry into the city of Plymouth. They found themselves in narrow back alleys reeking of refuse and filth. The gutters overflowed with sewerage and waste. No one seemed to care that they had to step warily to avoid soiling their shoes and clothes. They searched long for the” Cockhead & Fowl," but did not find it. Finally, they decided to ask for directions. They stopped a moderately sober sailor but he just shook his head. They asked a snotty street urchin. " 'Cockhead & Fowl’? Never heard of it! But there is one called 'Cock's Head & Owl'. It's just around the corner there," he pointed. ÖffliBöffli gave him a coin. Wide-eyed, he said, ''Thanks, Mister!'' and scurried around the corner. And there it stood. The "Cock's Head & Owl" was a cheap, run-down establishment where even the poorest of the poor were welcome as long as they paid for their booze. Just as Kalle Kanon was entering the tavern, a drunken seaman was being thrown out. The drunk collided with Kalle Kanon who responded by giving the seaman a volley of hefty punches after which he promptly threw him back into the tavern. "I meant you to get out and stay out, Moby Dick!" shouted the angry innkeeper, as he gave Moby Dick a mighty kick in the rear which sent him flying like a projectile back through the door. He landed with a slap against the wall on the other side of the alley. "Welcome, good gentlemen!'' the innkeeper fawned. "What's your tipple?" "What do you have to offer? Pelle Pistol inquired. "We have fine hocks and clarets for elegant gentlemen like yourselves, and of course, premium ales and ciders. Or if, my lords, you fancy something stronger, I have my grogs and my rums. I also have Bummburner, which I have especially imported from Bavaria, for special clients like your good selves. But I am obliged to warn, she's a sneaky damsel and one should be cautious. She's as lively as a firecracker and will set you off like a rocket!'' the host concluded. Pelle Pistol and ÖffliBöffli ordered claret. Kalle Kanon, determined to be true to his image, despite his previous lesson at the beavers' tavern, ordered a shot of Bummburner. Unka Duncas settled for raspberry juice. The quartet found a corner at the back of the tavern which gave a good view of the whole room. They sipped their drinks, while looking around cautiously to see if anyone signalled a desire to make contact. The atmosphere was lively and increased with each glass that was consumed. Nothing untoward happened besides a little scuffle in one corner where a pair of ladies were trying to sell their home brew without the approval of the publican. Through the open door, they could hear the marching of the marines’ seeking "volunteers" for enlistment and the shouts and curses of those being accosted. They remembered Henry Morgan's warning about soldiers press-ganging drunken wretches into the navy's iron grip. The waited long for the contact the beggar had told of. No one approached them. They began to suspect that they had been duped. Quite a few rounds of drinks were downed before a dwarf-like man with an untidy full beard approached the friends. "Have you gentlemen ever seen a dancing monkey that can speak with the wisdom of an owl?'' inquired the little man. "Why do you ask? ÖffliBöffli wanted to know. "I've been informed by some birds that you might be interested,'' claimed the man. ÖffliBöffli understood that it was a disguised invitation for a private meeting. He nodded to the little man. "Just follow me, then.'' said the dwarf. He led them to a loft above the tavern. There sat a man impatiently tapping his fingers on the tabletop. "About time you showed up,'' he hooted. "Well, no one contacted us until a few minutes ago'', ÖffliBöffli replied. "True enough, true enough. I apologise. I'm the impatient one. My name is Ozzy Owl. I'm the owner of this miserable establishment. That buffoon below only runs it for me. I sailed with Henry Morgan as first mate for many years. We were very successful and made a fortune trading back and forth in the New World'', Ozzy Owl recounted. "So then, why do you run such a tawdry tavern if business was so good?'' challenged Pelle Pistol. "Well, as you no doubt understand, everyone is out to pilfer a piece of one's pie, to stand ready to steal another's fortune, despite always being on one's guard, one cannot always prevent being outsmarted or outmaneuvered from all quarters. It could be one's good colleagues in the industry who attempt to appropriate one's fortune but the most dangerous thief of all, is the noble Royal English navy. With their bigger, faster, and better-armed warships, they are the ones who most often succeed in robbing us hard-working seafarers of our hard-earned profits.'' Ozzy Owl explained. "That's the way of the world. One is not always master of one's own fate nor in full control of one's own pocket.'' said Pelle Pistol understandingly. ''Sound like greedy lubbers, the English. How did they get you?'' growled Kalle Kanon. "We were overtaken by a frigate with seventy-seven Cannons. We didn't stand an earthly chance against such a formidable opponent. But we hid most of the loot, gold, coins, jewels and such in a secret compartment deep down in the ship. We left some of the loot in the hold to be easily found in order to fool the navy into thinking that they had been successful,'' said Ozzy Owl. " That was a smart plan. Hope you gave them a good fight as well,'' said Kalle Kanon. "Yes, we fought with everything we had, so it wasn't easy for them. But in the end, we had to surrender after more than half our crew was killed. They searched our ship from keel to mast. They found only what we'd planned for them to find,'' answered Ozzy Owl. "The redcoats interrogated us. They weren't gentle with their interrogation methods. They even hanged a few of us from the yardarm but no one revealed the presence of the rest of the bounty", Ozzy Owl continued. "How come you managed to escape as a free man?'' ÖffliBöffli asked. "I was shackled and imprisoned on board their vessel, awaiting trial, but I managed to bribe a guard when we were anchored near land. I simply jumped into the sea and swam ashore,'' said Ozzy Owl. "Our ship is called 'Aurora' and is now part of the navy after being refurbished as a warship. She happens to lie at anchor here in Plymouth harbour at this very moment. My plan is to board her as a crew member. The need for crew is now tremendous and there is so much confusion and activity related to that with forced enlistment, press-gangs, shanghaiing and so on, that no one really knows what going on. It should be easy,'' Ozzy Owl informed them. "So, I understand from all this that you are seeking our help with this mission?'' ÖffliBöffli inquired, looking meaningfully at Ozzy Owl. "I understood from Henry Morgan that you have been pirates yourselves. There is enough gold on 'Aurora' for all of us. So why not? Few would back away from a little adventure that will be rewarded with a tidy sum in gold and silver coins,'' added Ozzy Owl, with a smug smile. "Count me in! I'm game!'' exclaimed Kalle Kanon, as always eager for derring-do. ''Just a minute! Not so fast!'' cautioned ÖffliBöffli. '' Fist of all, nether this man here, Unka Duncas, nor I have even been pirates. Secondly, why us? Why do you trust us? We could just as well walk out of here, inform the navy of your scheme and reap a good reward without risking our lives at all,'' said ÖffliBöffli. Pelle Pistol and Unka Duncas, nodded their agreement, Kalle Kanon, snarled. ''The very fact that you are answering as you are, is proof of your worth even though you are not a pirate. As Henry informed me, he discerned in you deep wisdom, extraordinary knowledge and a talent for reasoning.'' ÖffliBöffli blushed a bright shade of red. ''Furthermore,'' continued Ozzy Owl, ''Henry's birds, which he relies upon religiously, have apparently informed him, that they had scanned Unka Duncas' brain and found that he has many supernatural powers, like an ability for time travel, and dream prediction, which would undoubtedly be of great value to our mission.'' Unka Duncas squirmed in embarrassment in his seat. ''Thank you for your compliments. But there are also moral issues here. My best friends in all the world, Pelle Pistol and Kalle Kanon, have long since chosen that way of life, but despite that, they have time and time again proved to be kind, considerate, generous and self-sacrificing beings, which amply offsets their misdemeanours. But what about Unka Duncas and I? We have deeply-seated scruples about stealing, violence and the risk of taking the lives of others,'' said ÖffliBöffli. ''Well said! I presumed you would come up with words to that effect. My response is simple. Neither the navy, nor the scoundrels from whom we acquired the loot came by the merchandise by honest means. So, the goods don't 'legally' belong to the either of them nor to me, so we are not really 'stealing', as you put it. We are merely requisitioning lost property. To salve your conscience, you can donate your portion of the pickings to charity, some worthy cause, perhaps set up a home for the poor, start a fund for education of needy youngsters or suchlike. Besides, Henry told me, that like your friends, you are game for adventure and challenge.'' ÖffliBöffli pondered deeply for some minutes. He then consulted with Unka Duncas, and they both agreed to join the adventure. Ozzy Owl proposed splitting the loot into five equal potions and the deal was done. Hands, were shook all around. "Good! Let's waste no more time'', said Ozzy Owl. ''This is my detailed plan. I have sailor's clothes for all of us. We dress in those. We find a row boat and row out to 'Aurora' in the dead of the night. I know exactly where she's lying at anchor. We board her. We blend in with the rest of the crew and the rest we play be ear as the circumstances and occasion presents itself.'' Ozzy Owl opened a large seaman's chest and produced suitable clothes for everyone. They proceeded with stealth and caution, on the lookout for soldiers and press-gangs. In a deserted part of the harbour, they found a row boat, set off from the quay and headed towards a forest of ship masts. Ozzy Owl knew exactly what the rigging and hull of the "Aurora" looked like. They found it easily. The reached the anchor cable. A solitary guard ambled lazily back and forth, waiting for the time to pass and his relief to come. He sat on a bollard with his back against the anchor light. Ozzy Owl climbed slowly but surely upwards towards the deck. Furtively, he approached the guard and disabled him with a pistol butt. He signalled to the others and they boarded without any trouble. "Now follow me down to the battery deck where the crew usually sleeps between the Cannons. No one will take notice of us looking for a place to spend the night,'' whispered Ozzy Owl Before proceeding, Ozzy Owl poured rum over the guard and placed the empty bottle next to him. As predicted, they all found places to lie down and slept deeply after their long and arduous day. Their snoring mixed in harmony with that of the rest of the crew. "Assembly on deck now," bellowed several boatswains early the next morning. They blew their whistles as they walked through the low battery deck. The sailors quickly got to their feet and stowed away their hammocks or whatever they had been sleeping on. On deck, they lined up in a starboard and a larboard watch. The marines stood separately at both ends of the lines. The captain stood on the half deck and addressed to the crew. "We have learned that the enemy is preparing to sail with one hundred and thirty-seven large galleons from Cadiz. All the ships are heavily equipped with both weapons and crew. It is our duty to prevent the enemy from landing on our shores. Therefore, we will hold live fire drills in the coming days so that we are fully prepared to meet the enemy,'' the captain concluded. A loud war cry rang out from the crew. They went to the deck and weighed anchor. They were soon underway at full sail. In a secluded bay, they placed barrels as targets and soon all the Cannons thundered from the starboard side. ''Aurora'' tacked and came up to the targets on the larboard side. Again, a barrage erupted and the Cannonballs whizzed away. Water spouts rose from the sea where badly aimed Cannonballs hit the surface. This evoked boos. When the barrels were accurately hit, there were triumphant shouts from the successful gun crews. The battery officers smiled broadly at each hit as they carefully measured the time it took to reload. The crew was rewarded with a double rum grog for a well-performed exercise. Admiral John Hawkins aboard "Victoria" had divided the fleet into a southern and a northern squadron. ''Aurora'' joined the northern squadron where thirteen warships were already at anchor. Days passed with further exercises and ship maintenance. After a small sloop arrived with intelligence and orders, there was much hustle and bustle on all the ships. The intelligence revealed that the mighty Spanish Armada was preparing for departure on its way to England. The northern squadron set sail south-west. They awaited the arrival of the southern squadron under the command of Admiral Francis Drake on "Revenge" so that the united fleet could confront the enemy. When the southern squadron with its flagship appeared, the wind died down. A group of somewhat battered smaller ships joined the united fleet. They reported that they had come close to the armada and had delivered a few broadsides directly into the powder magazine of a galleon named ''Santa Maria''. It promptly exploded. They managed to damage some of other galleons but also took damage themselves. They concluded was that the English ships were faster and more manoeuvrable than the enemy. The captains of all the ships gathered on "Victoria" for a council of war. Tactics were discussed. Some of the captains advised direct confrontation with direct broadsides into the Spanish fleet. Admiral Francis Drake argued that the wind was too weak and not blowing in exactly the optimal direction. He counselled against a direct attack. Hours passed, and evening approached without reaching a final decision. The company was supplied with food and drink while the discussions continued. 'Aurora's' young captain, Martin Frobisher, went up on deck to get some fresh air. He leaned against the rail and looked down at the sea. He noted that the wind had picked up and had shifted to the right direction. He conceived an idea in his head about what they could do under the cover of the darkness. He went back to the rest of the company and asked to be allowed to speak. "Very well, young man. What do you have to say," said Admiral John Hawkins. It was unusual for such a young captain to have the nerve to offer an opinion in such august company of renowned seafarers and seasoned campaigners. "I have understood that our latest information is that the enemy has anchored just off the coast of the mainland where the strait begins. I've just been on deck and noted that the wind is beginning to pick up and that it is now in our favour,'' explained Martin Frobisher. "So, what is your proposal? Do you have a plan?'' asked Francis Drake somewhat impatiently. "I suggest that we select the three oldest of our ships, load them to the brim with gunpowder. We get a few crewmen to sail each ship towards the enemy's anchored fleet. When the ships are about a half league away from the enemy, the crewmen fix the sails and secure the rudder, and put the three ships on course to sail straight into the enemy fleet. They set fire to our three ships. The crewmen leave their ships on longboats. The enemy sees the approach of the flaming ships and prepares to flee. The rest of our fleet is not far behind and we strike with full force against the fleeing ships, which are now in disarray trying to avoid the fire ships,'' proposed Martin Frobisher. A deep silence sunk over the cabin. Eyes were clamped shut; temples were rubbed. Some gazed at the ceiling, deep in thought. Then there were cries of, ''Brilliant!'' ''Ingenious!'' ''What a plan!'' ''Hurrah!'' ''Well done, young man!'' "That's exactly what we'll do!'' declared Francis Drake, shaking Frobisher's hand vigorously in appreciation. "I volunteer my ship 'Aurora' to be one of the fire ships,'' Martin Frobisher offered. ''She's rather old and is in need of significant repairs." "Good, choose two more ships amongst you. We must make haste. Make the preparations and let us get underway,'' John Hawkins ordered. The captains promptly rowed back to their ships to prepare them for battle. Aboard the 'Aurora', Captain Martin Frobisher informed the crew of the plan. "We need a few volunteers to stay until the last moment and set fire to the ship,'' said Martin Frobisher. Ozzy Owl immediately saw the opportunity he had been waiting for. He volunteered to stay on board and glanced at his four accomplices. ÖffliBöffli. Pelle Pistol, Kalle Kanon and Unka Duncas immediately understood, nodded and raised their hands. Martin Frobisher smiled at his five volunteers and spoke. ''Well done, brave sailors!'' Captain Martin Frobisher and the rest of the crew left in longboats and quickly disappeared into the darkness, leaving the five brave volunteers to complete their heroic task. The sails were swiftly hoisted, and the 'Aurora' set course toward the enemy ships, together with the two other ships that had been chosen. As they approached the planned distance from the Spanish fleet, Ozzy Owl rushed down to the bottom of the hold and began loosening planks. ÖffliBöffli ran to fix the rudder while Unka Duncas secured the sails. Kalle Kanon and Pelle Pistol prepared for the ignition of the tens of powder barrels that had been loaded on board. Ozzy Owl was still busy in the hold when Pelle Pistol shouted down to him that he had to come up on deck as they were close to their target and were about to light the fuse to set the powder barrels alight. "I'll be there shortly,'' roared Ozzy Owl back. "I just need to load the treasure into a sack. I'm coming." "You need to come now,'' shouted Pelle Pistol in return. ''Otherwise, you'll go up with the ship." The friends were already on their way down the ladder to the longboat when Ozzy Owl appeared, carrying a pitifully small sack that clinked with coins. "There's so much more down there but I didn't have time to gather more than this,'' groaned Ozzy Owl, scrambling aboard the longboat. They rowed frantically to put distance between themselves and the burning 'Aurora'. They managed in the nick of time. The 'Aurora' exploded in a tremendous fireworks display amidst the enemy ships. Among other debris, gold and silver coins rained down from the sky like a hail storm. Ozzy Owl groaned in despair and as he tried to catch some of the coins raining down from the smokey heavens. As he had predicted, Frobisher's plan caused panic among the enemy. They tried in vain to extinguish the fire that spread greedily among their ships. They hacked at their anchor cables in order to escape the inferno. For most, it was already too late, they shared the fate of the 'Aurora'. They were lost in a cataclysmic sea of fire. Of the 137 ships in the great Spanish Armada, only sixty returned to safety. Many of those that escaped the fire were lost in severe storms or ran aground because their anchor cables had been severed. The violent explosions The five sailors' small like a cork and nearly lay down in the bottom of sides and hoping for a Suddenly, the longboat around. It was caught in a multiple explosions. Before they could grasp themselves on a barren had generated gigantic waves. longboat bobbed up and down capsized several times. They the longboat, clinging to the miracle. began spinning around and vortex that had arisen from the what had happened, the found beach at the mouth of a large cave that would be underwater at high tide. ÖffliBöffli looked around in amazement. ''Let's head for the cave,'', he advised. They reached it and collapsed on its sandy floor gasping for breath after their miraculous escape from the vortex. "Where is Ozzy Owl?" Pelle Pistol asked, looking around. ''I saw him trying to grab a few more coins in the vortex. He got sucked overboard,'' said Unka Duncas. "Greedy varmint! He probably would have cheated us in the end,'' barked Kalle Kanon. ''The wages of avarice! A fool and his money are soon parted,'' said Pelle Pistol. ''Money is the root of all evil!'' said Unka Duncas ''Yes, I can't say I miss him. In any event, we had an exciting adventure and took part in a battle that changed the course of history'' said ÖffliBöffli. ''And, do you know what? I read of this battle in my history books. After the victory, Admiral Francis Drake, made this boast ' I singed the King of Spain's beard! He never made mention of Martin Frobisher.''

Möt Våra Huvudkaraktärer ÖffliBöffli, Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon är djur, men de har mänskliga egenskaper och umgås på lika villkor med männi-skor. ÖffliBöffli är en glad, optimistisk ung gris. Han är törstig ef-ter kunskap. Han tillbringade sex år i byskolan i Tryneslund, Sverige, där han föddes. Trots att han lärde sig läsa och skriva var det inte en mycket bra skola. Hans törst efter kunskapar var tvungen att stillas någon annanstans. Han slukade varje bok i skolbiblioteket och andra bibliotek i närmaste stora stad. Han hade snart uppnått basala vetande i matematik, fysik, historia, geografi, anatomi och en mängd andra ämnen. När han blev äldre kompletterade han sin kunskap genom att gå på kvälls-skola. Dock insåg han att hans kunskap var ytlig. Han hade hoppats på att kunna gå på universitetet, men familjens eko-nomi tillät inte det. ÖffliBöffli är en blyg typ. Han är inte sär-skilt lång eller fysiskt stark men det han saknar i muskler kom-penseras väl av hans kunskap. Han kan bidra till vilken konver-sation som helst med information om en mängd ämnen. Pelle Pistol är en svart och vit katt. Han hade varit Kung Louis IV av Frankrikes Master-at-Arms. Han är alltid elegant klädd i en fläckfri röd uniform med en vida vit krage. På huvu-det bär han en bredbrämad hatt med en strutsfjäder som dallrar i vinden. Ett par flintlåspistoler vilar i sina hölster vid hans höft. Pistolens på vänster sida åtföljs av en smal värja. Han har en fin, frodig mustasch som han ständigt putsar. Han är mode-medveten och något fåfäng. Han njuter av fina viner och gour-metmat. Han skulle hellre lata sig i solen än arbeta. Men han är modig och en utmärkt skytt. Kalle Kanon är en tuff, stadig bulldogg med en sträng upp-syn och ett hjärta av guld. Han hade varit Artillerimästare i den franske kungens armé där han och Pelle Pistol möttes. De har varit vänner i vått och torrt ända sedan dess. Kalle Kanon är enormt stark, utan rädsla och oerhört modig. Han kompenserar för vad han saknar i intellekt med praktiskhet och pragmatism. Han är alltid redo för handling, en god måltid och några öl. Han har lätt för att bli arg och är snabb med nävarna. Han är ingen konversationsidkare. Hans uttalanden är grymma, kortfattade och till poängen. Inget prat. Inget banalt snack. Bara uppgiften är viktig. Och han utför alltid jobbet. Deras äventyr binder samman dessa tre olika personligheter i ömsesidig kärlek, re-spekt och lojalitet. De stöttar varandra genom livets upp- och nedgångar. De blir närmare än bröder

Denna underbara bok kommer att transportera dig till nya horisonter och bortom dina vildaste drömmar. Du kommer att njuta av varje sida. ÖffliBöffli är en extremt intelligent ung gris. Hans kunskap är encyklopedisk. Pelle Pistol är en katt. Han är en stilig, ganska fåfäng, men mycket modig .Han är överste inom kungens livgarde. Kalle Kanon är en bulldogg. Han är butter och vresig men han är tuff, modig och den mest lojala av vänner. Han är en artilleriofficer. Trion är mer mänskliga än djur och talar alla språk i universum. Följ med dem på deras spännande äventyr genom tid, rymd och historia. Besök grottmän, Neandertalare och en nyupptäckt planet bebodd av robotar. Res med dem till havets botten och genom galaxerna. Bli transporterad av drakar, valar och ubåtar. Möt azteker, romare, vikingar och Conquistadorerna. Kämpa med Francis Drake när han besegrar den spanska armadan. Segla längs Nilen, Mississippifloden och Gula floden. Följ med de tre vännerna när de skyddar en ädel fransk familj från giljotinen, räddar slavar från onda fångvaktare, och räddar en by från en pest av råttor. Se pyramiderna i Egypten och kinesiska muren blir byggd. Överlev med dem när de kämpar mot snöstormar och sandstormar, öknar och vattenfall, piratattacker, tsunamis och tvehövdade ormar.

Följ med på många nya spännande äventyr med de tre vännerna ÖffliBöffli, Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon. De hälsar på hos Robin Hood i Sherwood skogen och fajtas med den lömska Sheriffen av Nottingham. Var med på en medeltida turnering med vackra damer och ädla riddare. I Canterbury träffar man Kung Richard Lejonhjärta och alla hans riddare där de uppmanade folk till att ta korset för att deltaga i ett korståg till det heliga landet Palestina. En fet prelat, abbot Marmel de Fuzz blir gripen på bar gärning med smuggelgods och han förs till Kung Richard Lejonhjärta för att få sin dom. I Australien möter man Yana, ser med förundran på känguruer och en aborigin bushtelefon. James Cook tar ombord dem på HMS Endeavuor som är en bark utrustad med tio fyrpundiga kanoner. Hemska kannibaler som blir till vegetarianer, åker skridsko på planeten Permafrost, Grevinna Flottenheimer var inte en kvinna. Men en utklädd fransk skojare. I Vilda Western staden Deadwood räddar Pelle Pistol livet på Will Hickok. Ett legendarisk foto tar Bildstein av Will Hickok ståendes tillsammans med ÖffliBöffli, Pelle Pistol och Kalle Kanon. Åker med Guden Tor i hans kärra och skapar stjärnfall. Befriar barnoffer, Panama slukas av en orm, Amazonerna namnger floden, runt Kap Horn, ÖffliBöfflis flygfärd på ödla, en strapatsrik färd till Sydpolen.