If there was one thing that Daring Do valued more than anything, it was sleep. Without sleep, you could not function: your thinking slowed and your reflexes dulled, and in Daring’s line of work, that could be deadly. Thus, over the years, she had become quite good at getting whatever sleep was available, even under adverse conditions.

However, whenever she could get the chance, there was nothing that she enjoyed more than a long night’s sleep on a soft bed with warm sheets. In fact, she had recently decided that there was only one thing that she enjoyed more than that: getting a long night’s sleep in a soft bed with warm sheets, and waking up snuggled up to the stallion that she had spent most of the night having sex with.

A beam of sunshine filtering through the curtained windows fell upon her face, rousing Daring from her sleep. She opened one eye and found herself facing a sleeping dark brown earth pony. His gray-tinged black hair hung over his face, the strands waving back and forth as he breathed. She smiled and kissed him on the nose. “Good morning.”

Phillip Finder blinked, groaned and pulled the covers over his head. “Piss off, it’s too early for this,” he grumbled. Phil had never reconciled himself to the fact that Daring was a morning pony, able to wake up with the sun no matter how little sleep she got. She delighted in punishing him for it.

Daring took him by the shoulders and shook him gently. “C’mon, it’s seven thirty. You’re gonna sleep the day away.”

“That sounds like a bloody fantastic idea,” Phillip stated, his voice muffled by the heavy sheets that kept out the mid-fall chill.

Daring frowned for a moment, then grinned wickedly. “Phil, if you don’t come out from under there, I’m coming in after you.”

She saw the sheets shift slightly as the figure beneath stiffened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

In an instant, Daring flung the sheets off Phillip and pounced, digging her hooves into his armpits and relentlessly assaulting his sides with her wings. Phil flailed helplessly beneath her, his laughter punctuated by loud snorts and pleas for mercy.

“Stop! Stop! I’m awake!” he cried, desperately trying to shove Daring off.

Daring relented, continuing to smirk down at her captive. He tried to glare up at her, but the corners of his mouth kept twitching upwards.

“You know I hate it when you do that,” Phillip stated.

“That’s why I do it,” Daring teased, touching her nose against his before getting up off him. “Now, c’mon, let’s get some breakfast.”

A few minutes later, the two of them were contentedly feasting on Prench toast drizzled in butter and maple syrup. “I’m really glad you came to visit,” Phillip said to Daring as he carved up his toast.

“Me too,” Daring smiled. “I have to admit, Ponyville is a nice change from the forest.”

Phillip swallowed another bite. “Your last book was four months ago. What’re you working on now?”

Daring stopped chewing for a moment, then swallowed slowly. “Nothing at the moment,” she admitted. “I’ve been doing a few small jobs for my contacts in museums, but nothing really exciting. Believe it or not, I’ve actually managed to stay out of trouble.”

Phil raised an eyebrow at her. “Stay out of trouble? You?”

Daring gave him a playful punch on the shoulder, giving him a look of mock offense. “So I thought I might as well do something with my time, and I wanted to see you again,” she continued.

Phillip smiled. “So how long are you going to stay?”

“Don’t know, really,” Daring stated. “I was thinking about meeting up with Rainbow Dash.”

“Bad luck,” Phillip said. “She and the others went vacationing in Baltimare. They’ll be there for a few days.”

“Oh,” Daring sighed, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

The awkward moment, however, was quickly and thankfully interrupted by the sound of the mail hitting the front hallway floor. Phillip rose from the table and walked over to the front hallway, stooping to collect the mail from beneath the slot in the door. He quickly flipped through the envelopes as he returned to the kitchen. Bill, telegram, charity letter, bill…

He suddenly paused, staring at a particular envelope with slowly widening eyes. He tore the envelope open with his teeth, pulled out the letter within and began to examine it slowly. Noticing his change in behavior, Daring looked at the address on the envelope.

“Who’s Blue Billabong?” she asked.

“A name I have not heard in a long time,” Phillip replied, not looking up from the letter.

“That’s cryptic. And not helpful at all,” Daring deadpanned.

Phillip looked up at her, his expression uncertain. He was silent for a moment before answering. “Blue was one of my neighbors. In Sydneigh.”

Daring withdrew slightly, internally wincing. “Oh.” She mulled over her next words for a while, then asked, “What’s he writing to you about?”

Phil handed the letter to her, and she looked over the pale blue ink.

"Dear Phillip,

"How have you been? I know it’s been a while since you’ve heard from me. I’ve been doing all right, just living out the quiet life here by the seaside. It’s a little lonely down here, though: I miss all of the old crew. They’ve all (here there were a few words that were scratched out and illegible) moved on, though. I think you and I are some of the few left.

"I’m writing to ask you to come by my place soon, if you have the time. I found something in an old trunk rummaging around the attic that I think you’d be interested in: Captain Bushwacker’s journal.

"If you’re interested at all, would you come and visit me this coming Thursday, around noon? I’ll throw some shrimp on the barbie, just the way you used to like ‘em.

"See you soon, I hope!

"Blue.”

Daring looked over the message once more, then looked at Phillip, who was sitting at the table, his chin on his hooves and a distant look in his eyes. “Who’s Captain Bushwacker?”

“He was the founder of Aushaylia,” Phillip explained. “Over eight hundred years ago.”

“Ah,” Daring nodded. “So this is important.”

“Pretty important,” Phillip agreed.

There was a long pause. “Well, we going to go?” Daring asked.

“We?” Phillip asked, looking up at her.

“If this is important for you, it’s important for me,” Daring stated plainly, taking his hoof in her own.

Phillip smiled. “Aces,” he declared. “We’d best get our train tickets for Baltimare, then.”

The next afternoon, just as the bells were chiming noon, a train pulled into the Baltimare station with a hiss of brakes. A small crowd of ponies disembarked from the metal carriages, hurrying off the concrete platforms to avoid the dripping rain that cascaded down from the heavy clouds that hung over the city.

Two ponies—a stallion in a green vest and an old gray trilby, and a mare in a heavy blue jacket and slouch hat—exited the train and walked calmly down the platform, unaffected by the rain. The scent of brine hung in the air in spite of the cleansing rain, and the visitors tasted it on their tongues as they descended onto the main street of the city. To their right, far off towards the southeast, were the choppy waters of the Horseshoe Bay. A hundred ships of every shape and size were bobbing up and down in the water like a strange dance. Ponies and carriages, both hoof-drawn and motorized, passed by on the cobbled streets at a relaxed pace.

Daring took a deep, appreciative sniff of the air. “Ah, I missed this place.”

“Me too,” Phil agreed, turning and walking northwest up the street. They passed by a maritime store, the front window of which proudly displayed a large ship’s wheel surrounded by a variety of seafaring equipment, from life preservers and oars to fancy compasses, oversized nautical charts in polished frames, and a ticking chronometer.

“If I recall, Disko Street is this way,” Phil stated, pointing. “Hey!” he shouted a moment later when Daring grabbed him beneath the forelegs.

“Let the one with the compass take the lead, okay?” she grinned, lifting him up off the ground and carrying him up into the air, flying over the rooftops of the city. Baltimare sprawled beneath them as they flew, a mass of brick stores and houses with streets cutting across them like rivers of stone dividing them up into islands. The rain and wind tasted of the spray of the sea, and the clouds rolled and pitched about them.

Before long, Daring swooped back down out of the sky and landed on a street below, carefully dropping Phillip down with the same care as a pilot guiding a yacht into dock.

“We could’ve walked here, you know,” he grumbled up at her, adjusting his trilby.

“This is faster,” Daring replied, smirking at him. “Admit it, you’re jealous.”

Phil grunted, but he couldn’t fight back a faint smile. They walked down the street, observing the numbers on the cottages that they passed by, all of them brightly colored as if deliberately trying to call attention to themselves. Finally, they reached number 37, a two-floor cottage colored entirely in shades of blue: pale blue for the walls, dark indigo for the roof, midnight blue window shutters and a deep sky azure door. A small stone pathway led up to the door, like a dock leading up to the ship.

“We’re here,” Phillip stated quietly. He hesitated at the threshold of the pathway, staring up at the door.

Daring gently touched his shoulder, and that seemed to snap him out of his stupor. He walked forward, briskly, as though trying not to prolong this any longer than he had to. He stepped up to the door and knocked three times.

After a long silence, the door opened. A rotund unicorn stood at the door, squinting at the visitors through thick glasses. He had a sea blue coat and pale green eyes, set in a heavily etched and wrinkled face. All that remained of his mane and tail were silver tufts of hair. His cutie mark was a small sailboat with a quill and a pot of ink painted on the sail.

“G’day, Blue,” Phillip said softly.

“Phillip!” Blue declared with a broad smile, reaching forward and pulling Phillip into a hug. “It’s been too long, mate!” Blue pulled back to look at Daring. “And who’s your sheila?”

Daring frowned at him. “Irene Alibi. And I’m just his friend. Not his ‘sheila.’”

“Right, ‘course you are,” Blue grinned at her, then winked at Phillip as they entered. Phil just gave him a deadpan stare.

They entered Blue’s sitting room, which was decorated to resemble a ship’s cabin: there were several large nautical charts spread across the walls, and a bookshelf on one side of the room held a number of antique navigational equipment, including a chronometer in a red box, held in several metal hoops so that it would remain level in the tossing waves. In place of chairs, there were three hammocks made of canvas hanging from the ceiling, slowly swinging back and forth. A small, cozy fire crackled merrily in the fireplace. A strange scent floated in from the kitchen, accompanied by the sound of sizzling.

Phillip breathed in the aroma. “You kept your promise,” he observed as Blue disappeared into the kitchen.

“Shrimp, fresh off the barbie,” Blue smiled, carrying in a large dish loaded with cooked shrimp, perfectly browned and still steaming, set alongside some grilled vegetables. He placed the dish on the center table and leapt up on one of the hammocks.

Phillip reached out and took a shrimp from the plate without hesitation, closing his eyes and allowing it to slide down his throat with a content hum. “Bonzer. Just like I remember, mate.”

Daring took a shrimp herself, examining the little steaming shellfish. She was no stranger to meat: while most ponies chose to eat only plants, they were still capable of eating meat, and some cultures were more accepting of omnivorous diets. Apparently, the Aushaylians included seafood in their palates. She took the shrimp into her mouth and bit down, finding the taste pleasantly juicy and tangy. She gave Blue an approving nod, which he acknowledged with a grin.

“I see the retired life has been treating you well, Blue,” Phillip commented, settling back on one of the hammocks. Daring joined him.

“Ah, it’s a nice life,” Blue admitted, laying back in his own hammock. “But I do miss the sea life.”

“I guessed,” Daring commented, lightly pushing on the hammock and making it swing back and forth.

Phil looked at Blue with an unreadable expression for several seconds of charged silence. “So, you said you had something about Bushwacker?” he finally asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Blue said, sitting up in the hammock. He ignited his horn with a dark green aura and levitated over an old book bound in waterproof canvas. He floated it over to Phillip, who took it with a curious expression.

“What’s this?” Phillip asked, opening the book. The old, yellowed pages within were lined with ink, faded dark brown with time.

“Bushwacker’s journal, fair dinkum,” Blue said proudly. “I found it in an old trunk that belonged to my great uncle. Guess it was passed down in the family.”

“The family?” Daring asked, bending over to look at the journal.

“Bushwacker is family,” Phil stated, staring at the ancient words with a forlorn expression. “Something like our fifth great grandfather.”

“Really?” Daring asked in surprise. “So you two are…” She looked back and forth between Phillip and Blue.

“Distant cousins, something like that,” Phillip stated, continuing to flip through the journal, studying the words of his ancestor. He reached the end of the journal, finding that the last two pages were blank. He looked up at Blue. “This is interesting, but why’d you bring me down here for this?”

Blue’s face fell into serious lines for the first time. “Because, well…” He reached up and rubbed the back of his head, sighing sadly. “...you’re the only one left that I could reach.” He sighed and glanced at the crackling flames that danced in the brick fireplace.

“You know how it was, mate. There were so few of us left after the fire, and we all had to move back to the mainland. It was hard to keep contact with one another, especially when most of us spread out…” He stared at the fire for several seconds, his green eyes reflecting the flames, then sighed again and looked at the floor. “I guess most of us decided to move on, and some of us...some of us couldn’t.”

Phillip laid a hoof on the journal, looking down at the final line of ink: Bushwacker’s signature, full of swirls and loops like a mountain river. He swallowed and spoke in a quiet voice. “This is interesting, Blue, but, we all know Bushwacker’s stories. We grew up with ‘em.”

“Oh, but I didn’t show you the best part!” Blue cried, his excitement returning in an instant. He took the book from Phillip’s grasp in his magic and opened it up to the final pages. He floated the journal over to the fireplace, holding the pages close to the heat. His guests watched in curiosity, then astonishment.

Ink, light green, was appearing on the pages, spreading across the leafs. Grinning broadly, Blue held the journal up to Phillip’s eyes. Phillip began to read the swirling letters upon the pages, silently mouthing them out to himself. Daring read the hidden message herself, but was bewildered to find that none of the words made any sense.

“Is this a foreign language?” she asked, trying to force the written words to make sense. But none of the words made any sense when she tried to apply them to any of the dozens of languages, both living and extinct, that she knew of.

“It’s Aboriginal,” Blue stated. “The original language of the natives of the Aushaylian island.” He leaned in close, the hammock swinging back and forth excitedly. “But the question is, why would it be written in hidden ink?” He grinned at Phillip, who stared back at him.

“You can’t be serious,” Phillip said incredulously.

Blue Billabong’s eyes twinkled like stars plucked from the sky. “Bushwacker’s treasure.”

Daring’s ears perked up. “Treasure?”

“It’s just a legend,” Phillip protested. “Even if there was a treasure, somepony could have found it years ago.”

“But you don’t know that for sure,” Blue declared, his smile broadening. “Oh, come on, Phil, I thought you were a detective. Clues like this are your thing!”

Phil smiled faintly for a moment, then handed the journal back to Blue. “I don’t understand Aboriginal, though; never learned more than some of the basics. Can you translate it?”

“Sure can!” Blue smiled, taking the journal back. “In fact, I can transcribe the entire journal for you two. Have it ready by tomorrow!”

“Thanks, Blue,” Phillip said, sliding off the hammock. He reached out with his hoof to shake, but Blue pulled him into a hug instead.

“You take good care of that sheila,” he whispered into Phillip’s ear, giving him a wink. Phillip just rolled his eyes.

“Nice meeting you, Ms. Alibi!” Blue called out, waving as Phil and Daring exited.

“You too,” Daring waved back with a wing as they walked out the door and back into the wind and rain and spray. As soon as the door closed behind them, she turned eagerly to Phillip. “What treasure?”

Phillip shook his head with a rueful smile. “Some things never change.” He walked down the sidewalk, Daring by his side.

“Captain Bushwacker was a privateer, a pirate hunter, and a damned good one,” he explained. “He and his crew were famous across Equestria for their effectiveness. Over the years, he was able to amass a sizable fortune from the rewards he got for hunting pirates.

“One year, while he was patrolling the southeastern seas for pirates, he discovered a small island, populated with some native ponies, the Aborigineighs. He and his crew made friends with them, and they visited frequently.

“Not long after, Bushwacker and his crew were ambushed by several pirate crews that had allied against him. Bushwacker managed to escape, but they were chased all across the oceans by the pirates. They needed a place to hide. And that’s when they thought of the island.

“They sailed to the island and settled amongst the natives. They named the island Aushaylia, after the Aboriginal word for ‘home.’ Eventually, they built a city, Sydneigh.” He paused, swallowing. “And the rest is history,” he concluded in a soft tone, his eyes seeming to darken slightly.

Daring was silent for a few seconds, walking side by side down the sidewalk. Eventually, Phillip shook his head and seemed to refocus. “And the treasure?” she asked.

“All the bounty that Bushwacker had collected over the years,” Phillip explained. “He’s supposed to have hidden it somewhere on the island. Of course, ponies have been looking for it for hundreds of years, but…” He shrugged. “I’ve never seriously considered it. Always thought it was a myth.”

“Well, maybe it wasn’t,” Daring commented. “How many times have we gone looking for some ancient statue or something that was supposed to be just a legend?” She tried to smile at him, but Phillip was looking at the ground at his hooves, his expression crestfallen. “What is it?”

“I…” Phillip looked around and swallowed. “I don’t know if I want to go back. It’s been seventeen years, and the last time I saw my home, there was nothing left but cinders.”

“Hey, you came here, that means something,” Daring tried to reassure him, draping a wing around his shoulders. “How about this? Let’s let Blue transcribe that journal. You’ll have until tomorrow morning to decide what you want. But no matter what,” she added, giving him a quick squeeze. “I’ll be right there with you.”

Phillip looked up at her, his face slowly warming into a smile. “Thank you, Daring,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “C’mon, let’s see if the Flying Dutchpony is still open. And let’s just walk there,” he added quickly.

“You’re no fun,” Daring protested with a small, ironic smile, following him up the street on the search for a meal.

Both of them were so absorbed in each other and their ideas, that they weren’t paying attention to their surroundings. A mistake: if they’d been more observant, they might have noticed a small pony, his body clad in a dark green windbreaker, following behind them.

“Bushwacker’s treasure…” the pony muttered, his face splitting into a grin to reveal two golden and three blackened teeth. He scurried down a dark alley. The Captain would want to hear about this!

Author's Notes:

Raise the mainsail and hoist the anchors, lads and lassies. We're setting sail for another adventure!

This time, we'll be charting a course for Aushaylia, the land down under and Phillip's native home, in search of treasure, adventure and romance. We hope that you enjoy your cruise with us...just watch out for sharks and pirates.