Dandin shook his head in amazement. "How did you ever find it, Bobbo?"
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"Fishing, young master. I was fishing for shrimp one day, sitting here staring down into the pool, when I saw it glint in the early sunlight."
"And didn't you try to get it out?"
"Ah well, I did try for nearly half a day with my hook and line, but it was too smooth and firmly lodged in the rocks. So I had to leave the little bird, do you see. Then after I found Firl I brought him along to this place to dive for it. Newts are excellent swimmers."
"Of course they are. Why didn't Firl get it?"
The small newt scampered down from the rock and cringed against Bobbo, eyes wide and throat palpitating madly.
"Ah well, do you see, it is not only the little bird who lives down at the bottom," the dormouse explained. "There is also a great shell creature, one with claws like vises, great eyes on stalks and long whiskers. Poor Firl lost his tail to the beast; it has only lately grown back. I would not let him go down there again, no not ever!"
Bobbo produced a piece of oatcake from his longcoat. Powdering it, he mixed it to a paste with some water and molded it around a small pebble.
"Watch now and see."
He dropped the coated pebble into the pool close by the edge. They gathered around and marked its progress as it sank rapidly to the bottom of the water. Near the part where the swallow lay, the pebble came to rest. It had no sooner landed than a gigantic blue-black lobster rushed out of a crevice, pounced on the stone and retreated swiftly with the object held tightly in its enormous pincered claws. It all happened so fast that the onlookers were stunned into momentary silence.
Bobbo shrugged. "So you see now, wayfarers. Is it not a dreadful monster?"
Durry blanched. "It's even too 'orrible to look at, Mr. Bobbo!"
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Mariel's jaw was set, firm and resolute. "But I've got to go down there and rescue the swallow!"
"If you go down, then I do too!" There was determination in Dandin's eyes.
"Er, er, oh, dash it, count me in as well, you chaps!"
Mariel shook her head. "No, Tarquin. You and Durry stay up here with Bobbo. We'll need you two to lower us down and pull us out quick. Now let me think awhile. I'll have to figure out the best way to do this ..."
Durry mopped his brow and blew out a sigh of relief. "Thank my stars! My old nuncle'd 'ave a fit if half a poor nephew walked back in on 'im one o' these days. Best we stay up 'ere, Mr. Woodsorrel. Just think what your Hon Rosie'd say if you turned up with no nose and on'y one ear. Bet she'd be rightly peeved."
"Peeved? Peeved ain't the word, young Durry. Rosie'd take a screamin' blue tizzy if she saw a magnificent specimen of harehood minus a hooter an' a lug. Good grief, I'd have to run off an' become a bally searat, or somethin' equally foul!"
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It was noontide before Mariel and Dandin came up with a workable solution. They went back to Bobbo's cave, where they gathered together what rope they could find, plus all the cooked shrimp and small fish they could lay paws upon. Back at the pool, Mariel explained her strategy to the others.
"The idea is to throw as much food to the lobster as possible. Let's start right now. Durry, Tarquin, chuck the shrimp and fish in. I want you to keep your eyes on the lobster. Once it stops coming out to get the food, let me know. Dandin, you and I will search about for two rocks. We need something to weight us down and make us sink to the bottom of the pool. While we're down there, you keep watch, with the sword ready. I'll get the swallow, then Durry and Tarquin can haul us up out of it."
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Soon the final preparations had been made. Mariel and Dandin sat on the rock lip of the pool with ropes tied about their waists. The mousemaid put aside her Gullwhacker; it would be useless underwater. Dandin took off his scabbard and held on to the sword. Durry and Tarquin were still dropping odd bits of food into the water.
"I think the old lobster villain's had enough. He's not botherin' to come out for any more tucker. The water's teemin' with jolly nice fish an' shrimp, but he seems to have had a tummyfulgreat glutton!"
Both mice picked up their rocks. Bobbo gave final instructions.
"Now then, do you go straight down and get the bird, tug on the ropes and we will haul you up fast. If we see the creature come out we will pull you up, whether you have the swallow or not. I wish you both luck and good fortune. Now take a slow deep breath."
Side by side Mariel and Dandin slid into the water, the coldness forcing them to take deep breaths, then the weight of the stones took over. With eyes wide open, the pool closed above their heads and they began their descent, into the silent aquamarine depths of the watery world.
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BOOK THREE
The Sound of a Bell!
The hare shook paws with Mother Mellus inside Great Hall as the fire-swingers roared outside on the lawns and in the orchard.
"Long patrol from Salamandastron at y'service, marm. Colonel Clary, Brigadier Thyme and Hon Rosie."
Mellus inspected Clary's paw. "You've been hurt. I'll get a proper dressing for that wound. Sister Sage! Bring a clean dressing and some salve, will you."
Clary winced slightly as the dressing was applied.
"Much obliged, marm. Only a scratch, really. Good healin' fur us Meadowclarys have, wot? The young mouse chappie, wotsisname, Saxtus, he's told us what the position is. Not to worry, we'll have the vermin sorted out by dawn for you dealt with their types before. Oh, by the way, marm, can I count on you to be on the west walltop in, say, two hours?"
Mellus nodded. "You can count on me for anything, as long as it gets those filthy searats away from Redwall Abbey, Colonel Clary."
Hon Rosie gawped around Great Hall in open admiration. "Oh, I say, what a super-dooper cottage y'have here. Whoohahahahooh!"
This time it was Mellus's turn to wince. "Colonel
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Clary, would it be possible for Hon Rosie to do her laughing outside? We have infants in the dormitories, trying to sleep."
Clary saluted. "Right you are, marm. Rosie! Put a lid on the giggles, old gel. Keepin' the babies awake, wot!"
"Oops! Silly old me, I'll go an' have a swift chortle in the shrubbery. Whooha Sorry!"
Thyme went about his business efficiently. Mounting the west wall, he introduced himself to Rule Brush and tested a bow and arrow.
"Hmm, this all the archery equipment you've got? Sadly lackin', old lad. Now let me see, range, trajectory, distance . . . Hmmm, yersss! Is there a wicker gate in your east wall leadin' out into the jolly old woodlands?"
Rufe nodded dumbly, slightly overawed by the militaristic hare.
"Good show! Next question: where'll I find your grub wallah y'know the cook chappie, the chef?"
"In the kitchens, gettin' tomorrow's breakfast set up, I s'pose. Inside the Abbey, one floor down below Great Hall."
"Top-hole! See y'later. Face front now, don't turn y'back on the bally enemy, old chap. They'll shoot you in the behind, wot!"
Rufe was left so bewildered he nearly forgot to duck as a low-flying fire-swinger sped overhead.
"Hiyo the grounds, fire-swinger come in over main gate!"
"Hurr, maister Brush," a mole cried out from below. "You'm a bit late, baint 'ee? Durned foir-s'inger near burned moi nose offen."
Friar Alder reluctantly parted with his three best vegetable knives again. "Take care of them please, Mr. Thyme."