Gobbolino the Witch's Cat

The storm grew louder and fiercer, and the poor ship trembled as each wave struck her. Once there was a tremendous crash as though a mast had fallen on the deck and always there were the shouts of the sailors – too busy now to come and ask Gobbolino if he were still alive and hearty – the wail of the wind and the groan of the weary timbers.

“Oh, my goodness!” said Gobbolino as he was rolled from side to side. “Will it never come to an end, never? Surely when the morning comes the waves will die down, and the sea will be as calm and as beautiful as it was before.”

But the morning came with the storm still raging, and now Gobbolino heard a new noise, the song of the sea witch as she flew round and round the ship:

“I’ll send her down, the Mary Maud,

And every man of her aboard,

For not a sailor here can tell

The way to break a witch’s spell!”

When he heard these words Gobbolino sat up suddenly with his ears a-prick.

An old, old memory had stirred in him with the sea witch’s words.

Long, long ago, as he lay in the gloom of the witch’s cave with his little sister Sootica beside him, their eyes scarcely opened, their paws still pink and flat, he had heard his mother Grimalkin and her mistress, the witch, talking together.

“There is only one way to break a witch’s spell!” the witch had said. “You must pounce on her shadow, stand on her head and cry the words ‘Fiddlesticks to you, ma’am!’ before she whisks her shadow away. No spell is proof against this counter-witchcraft.”

When Gobbolino remembered this advice he grew quite crazy with excitement, and began to mew pitifully at the door, imploring the sailors to let him out.

For a long while nobody heard him, and when they did they quite refused to open the door.

“No, no, Gobbolino, the wind would blow you away, the waves would wash you overboard and the spray drown you. We cannot allow that. Stay where you are, and by and by when the storm is over we will let you out.”

“But I’m so frightened down here!” complained Gobbolino, trying to make his voice sound as piteous as possible.

“It is ten times more frightening up here,” said the sailor.

“I am so cold down here!” said Gobbolino.

“It is ten times colder up here!” said the sailor.

“I am so hungry down here!” sobbed Gobbolino.

“Well, I will see if I can find something for you to eat, if it has not all been washed away,” said the kind-hearted sailor, “but you must wait here like a good cat until I come back again.”

Gobbolino waited. As he listened to the groaning ship and the shriek of the storm that grew ever louder and louder, he thought that every minute the Mary Maud must plunge to the bottom of the sea and be lost.

He could hear the sea witch singing her song over and over again as she circled the ship.

The sailors took her for a seagull, and her song for the cry of a bird, but to Gobbolino, born in a witch’s cave, a witch was always a witch, however she disguised herself, and he trembled to think of what she meant to do to the Mary Maud and all the sailors on board her.

When at last his kind friend returned with a morsel of fish and some milk in a tin, Gobbolino could hardly wait for him to unfasten the door. He slipped between the sailor’s legs as the honest man stooped to lay the food before him, and was up on the deck in a flash.

“The cat has escaped!” the sailors cried who saw him, but the Mary Maud was near her end, and no one could spare a hand from the ropes to grab at Gobbolino.

To his surprise he found they were not far from the shore, but the ship was running fast for a cruel-looking reef of rocks, and once she crashed on these there would be no hope left for her.

The night was gone and it was broad morning, but great clouds covered the sun, and where there was no sun there was no shadow for Gobbolino to jump upon. What is more, the sea witch flew aft the ship, as if she felt the danger of casting her shadow on it, and unless he could coax her nearer at the same time as the sun came out, the Mary Maud and all aboard her would be lost.

Gobbolino had to cling with all his might to the ropes and sails to avoid being washed into the sea, but at last he found a more sheltered spot where the wind and water could not reach him, though showers of spray still drenched his fur and stung his eyes, alert to watch the passing of the sea witch.

Oh, joy! Oh, joy for Gobbolino, when all of a sudden the clouds rolled back, and the sun moved into a rift of clear blue sky that flooded the deck and bathed the battered ship in glory.

The sea witch circled out to sea, sweeping angrily past the Mary Maud as if the cheering light annoyed her. Gobbolino was afraid she meant to fly away altogether, for the ship was bound for the rocks and nothing could save her.

And the sailors had suddenly caught sight of the little cat crouching in his corner.

“Save the cat! Save the cat!” they cried. “Put him in a basket, and if we strike the rocks he may float to shore!”