“To get that warbleflower,” said the Captain, “we needs a plan.”

“Can I just—” said the Crew.

“Shush!” the Captain shushed. “I’m the Captain and I reckon what we want is a really big cannon. KA-BOOM! We blast a hole in that fence and then snatch a plant.”

“Problem,” said Eddy. “We haven’t got a cannon.”

“If I could—” said the Crew.

“Shush!” the Captain shushed again. “Let me think. Got it! Plan B. We go and find a really big cannon. KA-POW!”

“But a really big cannon isn’t something you just find lying around,” said Eddy.

“I’ve got a—” said the Crew.

“For the last time, shush! Maybe you’re right about Plan B. So – Plan C. Two slightly smaller cannons.”

“But—” said the Crew.

“Shush,” shushed the Captain, “for the even laster time.”

“Suit yourself, dearie,” said the Crew.

“We need plan D,” said Eddy. “D for diversion. Something that distracts all the guards. Then one of us can sneak in and steal the warbleflower while they aren’t looking. What can we do to get their attention?”

“Well,” said the Captain, “if we had a really big cannon…”

“Let’s have a think,” said Eddy.

“Who would like a sandwich?” asked the Crew. “Cheese and chutney. It was the very last one in the shop.”

“Lovely,” said Eddy. “It has been a long time since breakfast.”

Seagulls are proud birds. Get the better of one and you can be sure that it won’t forget. Which is why the seagull that Eddy had met on the cliff was now circling high in the sky above. And why it had brought a mob of its friends along. This was payback time.

The seagull checked its target, tucked its wings in, and arrowed straight down towards Eddy. The other birds tailed after it, a plummeting cloud of angry beaks, bent on revenge. Eddy Stone had no idea what was heading his way.

Just a feather’s breadth from Eddy’s head, the seagull caught sight of the sandwich. It flipped out a wing, swerved past Eddy’s right ear, and fell on the food. The other birds followed greedily, screeching and squabbling, and filling the air with angry cries, flying feathers, and chunks of bread and cheese. Eddy yelled at the gulls while the Crew tried to drive them off with a rolled umbrella.

The massive commotion turned every head in the queue of tourists. Guards left their posts and hurried over to try to sort it out.

“Brilliant!” the Captain shouted through the din. “I don’t know how you organized it but that’s what I calls a distraction, and no mistake. Warbleflower, here I come!” He set off at a trot.

It wasn’t a very large cheese and chutney sandwich. The seagull had brought along a lot of friends. Approximately twenty-six-and-a-half seconds after the brilliant diversion had begun, the last scrap of food was gobbled up, the disturbance died down, the birds flew off, and the diversion suddenly didn’t look so brilliant after all. Particularly for the Captain, who was way short of the gateway to the warbleflowers. He was still running at full pelt when he clattered into the two guards who’d stepped out in front of him. They lifted him by the back of his coat, and tossed him through the air over the heads of the people in the queue.

“And don’t try that again!” the first guard shouted after him.

“We’ll be looking out for you!” shouted the other, as the Captain hit the ground with a bump.

He limped back to where Eddy and the Crew were sitting in the middle of a drift of tattered seagull feathers and shredded sandwich wrapper.

“Right,” he said, “who has an idea for plan E?”

“Well, if you’ve finished shushing, how about this, dearie?” The Crew pulled a plant pot from her bag. In it was a straggly little thing with spindly leaves and a few very small flowers of a drab pinky-brown-but-mostly-brown sort of colour.

“From the gift shop,” she continued. “The fabled warbleflower.”

“Is that what all the fuss is about?” asked the Captain. “It’s not much to look at.”

“Appearances aren’t everything,” said the Crew.

“Has it got a scent?” said Eddy.

“Oh, it has,” said the Crew.

Eddy leaned forward and breathed in. It was like sticking his nose into an old trainer that had been worn by a wet Labrador that had trodden in something unfortunate.

“Just not a very nice one,” said the Crew.

“Grungeybeard must have had a right laugh when he decided to make us go through all that trouble for such a boring little plant,” said the Captain. He reached out to grab it, and…

“LA LA LAAAAAAAAAA!”

“Wow!” said Eddy. “It’s singing.”

“That’s what they do,” said the Crew. “I heard a few in the shop. All those people over there are waiting to hear the wild ones – apparently there are thousands of them on this hill.”

At that moment, a high, sweet note trilled through the air. It was joined by another, and another, and then hundreds of them together, weaving melodies that rose into the bright sky.

“Lovely!” sighed the Crew.

“Fantastic!” said Eddy.

“Vocal vegetation is all well and good,” said the Captain, “but we’ve got a quest to follow. Let’s get this warbleflower back to the ship and find out from the map what our next challenge is. And this time we’re all taking the lift down to the beach. Crew, lead the way!”

They passed a cow that was standing alone in a large patch of daisies. The cow watched them as the lift doors closed. Then it said quietly, “Well, they did that the hard way, didn’t they?”

“How would I know?” answered the cow’s stomach. “All I can see is your rear end. It’s my turn for the head next time.”

Who was inside the cow suit? Were they members of The Scavenger’s crew, checking up on the Captain’s progress? Were they spies who would soon be reporting back to whoever was behind the magic map? Or were they just two friends who like dressing up as a cow and who have nothing to do with the rest of the story?