Graypatch listened, knowing he had no real answer to Bigfang's argument.
"Shipmates, we ain't woodland rats, we're searats. We always had plenty o' fish an' seabirds too, besides what stores we could plunder. But here we ain't got nothin', an' there's too many of us to be sharin' nothin'! Oh, leaves, berries, roots 'n' fruits are fine, if y'know which are the right ones an' which ones won't make a body sick or even kill yer. But we don't! So we're goin' to starve if we can't get proper vittles to eat!"
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There was massive agreement with this statement. Graypatch shrugged.
"Well, fair enough, Bigfang. Tell us the answer you're so smart!"
Bigfang had his answer ready this time. "I say we use our weapons to get food, not to fight some Abbey or guard a lot of useless oarslaves. Split up, go in gangs, fish the streams an' ponds, kill the birds with slingshots, arrows, anythin', but let's get some decent grub inside of us!"
Amid the roars of approval, Graypatch waved his sword for silence.
"All right, all right! That sounds sensible t' me. I never had no objections to a searat crew feedin' theirsel-ves, mateys. But there's still these oarslaves. They're ours, and we can't let 'em be nabbed away by those Redwallers, so I suggest we build a cage for 'em, then we can go huntin'. Avast, what do ye say?"
Bigfang pointed his sword at Graypatch. "You do what you want, rat. We're goin' to get food!"
The entire crew stopped what they were doing and watched. Bigfang had finally laid down his challenge. Graypatch gripped his sword tight and confronted his enemy.
"So, it's come t' this, eh, matey!"
Bigfang circled, crouching low, sword at the ready. "I'm no matey o' yours, rat!"
"Haharr, I reckon you fancy yourself as Cap'n round here!"
"Couldn't make no worse a job of it than you, smart-mouth!"
With a roar they clashed, blade striking upon blade. The searats formed a circle for them to fight in. Bigfang was strong; he used his sword like a club, hacking and bludgeoning at his opponent. Graypatch was vastly more experienced; he ducked and parried, dodging away from the main attacks, using the campfire as a barrier.
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They fought in silence, none of the crew shouting encouragement to one or the other lest the shouter back the losing beast. Dust and ashes from the fire rose in billows as the pair battled savagely, Bigfang gaining the upper claw slightly with his size, strength and ferocity. Graypatch countered most of the moves, sometimes making Bigfang look awkward and ungainly, but as sword locked sword they gritted and sweated, their faces almost touching.
Graypatch began to realize that he was not as young and powerful as Bigfang. Fighting desperately to keep the foe from his blind side, he felt himself starting to tire and weaken. But experience was on his side; he kept his single eye on the main chance. Striving wildly, he turned Bigfang so that his back was to the fire and redoubled his attack. Bigfang was forced backward until one foot went into the fire. He yelped in pain. Gray-patch dodged away, as if giving his adversary a chance to recover. Bigfang looked down at his scorched foot-claws for a vital second.
It cost him his life. Graypatch snatched the spear that Frink was holding and hurled it. He was too close to miss.
From the branches of a tall beech close by, a fat squirrel sat watching. He shook his head as he saw Bigfang fall. "Hmm, could've told him that'd happen. That old rat's
no fool!"
oo
Graypatch stood with his narrow chest heaving. He glared around the circle to reassert his authority as Captain.
"Come on, riffraff, anyone else wanna be Cap'n?
Speak up!"
A deathly hush had settled over the crew. The only sound was the crackling of the campfire as they stood staring at the carcass of Bigfang, who only moments
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ago had been alive and arguing. Graypatch laid the flat of his sword against Lardgutt's throat.
"Come on, bagbelly. Do you fancy tryin' fer Cap'n?" Lardgutt could not even gulp, the sword was so tight on his neck. "Not me, you're the Cap'n . . . Cap'n!"
Graypatch nodded approvingly, immediately changing his mood. "Right, matey. I'm the Cap'n an' I gives the orders. So let's see plenty o' stout wood bein' cut to make a cage fer our oarslaves. After that we'll head out into these woodlands an' plunder all the vittles a searat can lay claws on. Now, what've ye got t' say to that?"
Though the tone was subdued they all replied, "Aye-aye, Cap'n."
Rufe Brush gave a shout of delight as the fat squirrel came bounding in across the north wall with acrobatic skill.
"Oak Tom, you old bushrumbler! Well, curl my tail!"
They hugged and wrestled, as squirrels do, then the normally taciturn Rufe held his friend out at paw's-length.
"Let me look at you, treejumper. By the fur, you're twice as fat as a badger at a feast. What've you been doin' to yourself?"
Oak Tom patted his vast stomach and chortled. "Yukyukyuk! Rovin' and eatin', though mostly eatin'. Doesn't slow me down at all. I'm faster than I ever was, young Rufe!"
Again they fell to wrestling and hugging. Several Dibbuns had gathered to view the performance. They called encouragement, thinking it was some sort of fight.
"Bite his tail off, Rufe!"
"Kick 'im in 'ee gurt fat tummy, squirr'l!"
Mother Mellus and Abbot Bernard came hurrying over. Oak Tom released Rufe and performed several acrobatic pawsprings.
"Abbot Bernard, how are ye, Father? Oh, look out, it's old stripy top. Bet y'can't catch me for a bath now, Ma Mellus!"
The badger put on a mock-serious expression, wagging her paw at him. "Just let me catch you, Oak Tom. You were the worst Dibbun Redwall ever had to put up with. I'll wager you've not had a bath since you left here last summer."
The fat, nimble Oak Tom bounded up on Mellus's broad back and whispered in her ear, " 'Course I have. Here, this is for you."
Pulling a small package from his traveling bag, he dropped it in Mellus's paw. The badger sniffed it appreciatively.
"Oh, jasmine and lavender soap! Where did you get it? No, don't tell me, I'd hate to think of one of my Dibbuns stealing."
Oak Tom pulled a long face. The Abbot patted his head fondly.
"She's only joking, Tom. Come and talk to me, tell me all the news of your travels. You're just in time for lunchwe're eating out in the orchard. Summer salad, leek and celery soup, hot rootbread and strawberry trifle to follow."
"You must've known I was comin' back. My favorite of alclass="underline" strawberry trifle. Yahoooooo!"
Oak Tom went hurtling away toward the orchard in a series of blurring somersaults. Runn and Grubb watched him go.
"He must've been a terrible Dibbun, worser'n us!" "Buhurr aye, oi weager'ee wurr a gurt fat hinfant!"
oo
The news Oak Tom brought was extremely serious, particularly to Clary and his long patrol. They listened intently.
Mellus glanced anxiously at Clary when Oak Tom finished telling what he had witnessed at the searat
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camp. Clary paced about in the shade of a gnarled pear tree.
"A big cage, y'say. Just how big, Tom?"
"Big 'n' strong enough t' hold all twelve o' them. Well made too, with thick branches an' lashings. Very heavy, I'd say."