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The Three-Legged Rescue Plan Moves Forward

The Three-Legged Rescue Plan Moves Forward

Arrr, matey! Welcome to the Sea Dog’s storytelling lair, where ye’ll hear the legend of the ol’ Sea Dog in all its glory. Draw up a chair and listen to the rollickin’ good tale of the exploits of the fearless dalmatian. In our last episode, the Sea Dog had helped his mates to locate their beloved Captain, Bill, who had gotten captured.


The three sailors hidden in the jungle waited silently as Bill and his companions worked, hacking through the jungle vines, shrubs, and thick undergrowth to expand the clearing. Suddenly, they heard the overseer say, “Halt! That’s it. Back to your quarters.”

The other workers lay down their machetes and started filing towards a small, cramped bamboo hut that Bill hadn’t noticed before. He followed suit, undecided about what to do, for he had expected to go back along the jungle path to the town. The overseer didn’t release their leg chains, so they all had to lie down together in the hut. The Sea Dog was nowhere to be seen.

Sparky was slinking through the shadows along the edge of the clearing, and he reached the hut and went in while the overseer’s back was turned.

“That’s my boy,” Bill whispered. “Now let me check for a note.” Sure enough, when he checked the cavity in the peg leg, he found the note his men had written, along with the blank sheet they had left for him. Quickly, in the dim light, he penciled a message.


“Now go,” he said to his trusty friend. The dalmatian ran off into the darkness. Then, Bill turned to his companions.

“Tomorrow, we will have help,” he said. “We can’t get out of these chains. However, we can help them to rescue us. At my signal, each one of you grasp his machete and stand in a circle, back to back. Whoever comes against us, we can fight them off. Act like everything is normal.”

The three sailors who had stayed in the shadows took turns keeping watch all night.

Morning light dawned, and the overseer put the men to work again. They worked with a light heart, full of hope for what the day would bring.

Around mid-morning, Brutus arrived. The men in the jungle watched him pass into the clearing and clenched their fists silently, but waited to see what he would say.

“Overseer,” Brutus said in his guttural voice, “These men apparently think they have help coming.” He pulled out a note and Bill recognized with horror the slip of paper he had penciled the night before.

Brutus made eye contact with Bill. His eyes were cold, sinister. “I found a certain spotted dog limping around my property,” he said. “It seemed like he had come from the direction of the jungle. So I caught him and disposed of him… but not before I retrieved some vital information from his secret message pouch. Give up all hope now. As I said to you yesterday, you will never be rescued.”

Just then, Bill saw his three companions running out of the jungle toward Brutus. Bill gave the signal, and the men who were chained with him positioned themselves in a circle.

To Be Continued.

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