Pyro Watson and the Hidden Treasure Read Free Page A

wasn’t too fond of dirt.
    â€˜And she especially wouldn’t like to think I was dragging you into quicksand! Just give her my love and tell her to give Nan a kiss from me and fill up the rest with the swim we had this morning.’
    Pyro did.

    And then he took out his pirate book. He liked treasure maps and the way little lines ran all over islands and around palm trees with an ‘X’ marking the spot where the treasure was hidden.
    He checked out the side window of the camper. The ocean was on the right. He looked across to the littleswimming cove where the waves slapped sweetly on the shore. That was round the corner and to the left. How many paces would that be? And then, further back where the boggy beach was, how far back there? And what were the landmarks?
    He craned up.
    â€˜See something interesting?’ Mr Stig looked out.
    â€˜Not really.’ Pyro thought about mentioning the pirate map but was worried that it might disappear from his head if he spent too long talking about it. That sometimes happened with drawings, he’d discovered. One minute they were there in your brain, the next … gone, leaving a pencil with a line that had nowhere to go.
    â€˜Keep looking,’ Mr Stig said. ‘You’re bound to find something sooner or later.’
    Pyro had already found something. He was studying the map he was going to draw in his head. He was busy deciding on the way it would have a skull and crossbones at the top corner. And compass points that had twirly lines all over the place like they do in pirate books.
    And he had almost decided how the bravest Pirate Chaser of them all was going to find the map and save the treasure.

    Sweet Calamity Belle had been captured. She was the granddaughter of the richest merchant who’d ever sailed the Caribbean. He had amassed his fortune and then, as he’d sailed home with his ship filled to the rigging with gold and silver from the Aztecs, spices and jams from the East Indies and glorious silks from the silkworms of China, the most dreaded thing happened. His ship struck stormy seas and, as she foundered on the cruel rocks, Captain Ricketty Belle had hidden her wares.
    â€˜Never fear, me fair ship Freydra , I’ll be back for ye!’ And he set off across land, armed with one long sword and pushing a wheelbarrow in which he’d stacked his most precious cargo.
    He did go back and he did float Freydra off the rocks. He did mend her sides and fill her again with spices and sweet jams, then he set sail to fetch the treasure he’d hidden ashore.
    He never claimed it. Captured he was, by the wicked pirates of the South Seas. He had time only to draw the map of his treasure on the tummy of his tiny granddaughter as he set her adrift. He knew a paper map would be damaged forever in the waves that lapped at the tiny boat he used for her escape.
    â€˜Go safely, little lady!’ he called. Then he cried ‘Take me!’ and gave himself up to the Wicked Pirates of the South Seas.
    Little Calamity was saved by the women of the Illiam tribes of the Itchum islands. The Illiams of Itchum didn’t wash very often so the map on the baby’s tum became etched there for all time. Of course, the Itchum Islanders knew about it.
    But they didn’t tell anyone.

    It was going to be the best map. Already there were palm trees and a place where the tide would come inand make a quicksand bog. There’d be a hill, and a graveyard and a little town and there’d be a long fence that separated the town from the cruel ocean. And it was all going to be small enough to fit on a baby’s tum.
    But it could be done bigger and then shrunk on the photocopier when he got home.

    San Simeon looked in horror at Sweet Calamity. She was wrapped around with rope and was, at that very moment, being hung out over the deep, dark ocean.
    Shark fins circled. Great open jaws full of razor-sharp teeth snapped at the maiden’s