"Keep it goin' up, chaps, that's the ticket! Everybeast remain still now, hold y'positions. Up she goes, wot wot!"
Borrakul and Elachim grunted and strained artistically until they had finally lifted the bench over their heads. Suddenly Borrakul gave out a tremendous bellow.
"Yahwooooch!"
He released his hold on the bench and grabbed at his rear. Amid howls of dismay, the troupe and the bench came to earth in jumbled disarray. Florian dashed forward, furious. Down on all fours he berated Borrakul, who lay trapped by the bench, still clutching his bottom.
"Great seasons o' sausages, you blitherin' bangtailed buffoon! Why did y'let the bally bench drop?"
Crimson-faced, Borrakul gasped, "Because that perishin' mousebabe shot me with a slingstone!"
Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop drew himself to his full height, ears twitching, teeth grinding audibly. "Oho, he did, did he! Well, 'tis high time I had a serious encounter with that blisterin' undersized miscreant. Dwopple! Come out o' that cart, front'n'center, this instant. Out I say, sir!"
Florian strode resolutely forward, but the mouse in the blue gown suddenly flung herself dramatically in front of the cart. One paw outstretched, the other across her brow, she declaimed, "Oh, mister Florian, I beseech you, sir, touch not a hair of that babe's tender head. Do nothing you will reproach yourself for in the sunlit seasons lying ahead. Hear a pitiful mother's plea, and punish not the harmless innocent. Spare him, I beg of you!"
Runktipp the hedgehog chortled bitterly as he removed the bunting from his spikes. "Dwopple a harmless innocent? Huh, that 'un's about as harmless as a bucket o' serpents an' a sack o' stoats! An' you ain't his mother, Deesum, yore only his auntie!"
Deesum shot Runktipp a haughty glance. "A mere detail. Do not quibble, sir. No mother could love a babe as I love Dwopple. Come to me, my precious little mite!"
Clambering into the cart, she grabbed a small fat mousebabe, who wore a stained oversized smock and a wicked scowl. Hanging from one of his grubby paws was a miniature slingshot. He wriggled and kicked desperately as Deesum smothered him with kisses.
"Garraaagh! Leggo a Dwopple, stoppa kissy me. Blurrgh!"
Elachim the otter massaged a bruised paw as he glared at the infant. "You steamin' liddle nit, Dwopple, you ruined our re'earsal!"
Florian interrupted sternly. "Indeed you have, ye young ripcurdle. Apologize to the entire troupe, this very flippin' instant! Say you're sorry, sir!"
From over Deesum's shoulder, Dwopple grinned fiendishly at the company. "A soggy!"
The hare squinched his eyes at Dwopple. "Beg pardon, what did y'say?"
Deesum stamped her paw impatiently. "He said he's sorry, isn't that good enough for you? Would you like the little fellow to shed salt tears and roll in the dust? Isn't the word sorry satisfactory to a heartless, driving taskmaster like you?"
Florian threw up his paws in despair. "Tchah! I suppose it'll have t'be, wot!"
Deesum patted the mousebabe's back reassuringly. "There now, my little treasure, they've all forgiven you, isn't that nice. Will you give them all a big kiss?"
The hedgehog, Runktipp, backed off with a horrified face. "Let that liddle savage kiss me? No, thanks! He'd prob'ly bite the snout off'n me!"
Florian waggled his cane severely at Dwopple. "Absolutely no need t'go kissin' an' huggin' everybeast. Just behave y'self in future, m'laddo, particularly at rehearsals, wot!"
Turning on his heel, the hare strode grandiloquently off, only to be hit sharply on his bobtail by a missile from Dwopple's sling.
"Yowhooch! Bandit, fiend, pollywoggle, scallywag! I'll have y'tail for breakfast, sah!"
The sight of Florian's enraged face set Dwopple crying in distress. "Wahaaah! Nasty wabbit gonna eat Dwopple's tail. Boohoohoo! Me on'y a likka baybee. Wahaahaa!"
Deesum hugged the mousebabe closer to her as she rounded on Florian. "You callous monster! Fancy frightening the poor little fellow like that!"
Florian flung his hat down and danced upon it. "Madam, I'll have y'know that wretch shot me in the posterior, an' called me a rabbit t'boot!"
Deesum stamped her paw hard. "Enough! One more word, sir, and I'll resign from your troupe and take baby Dwopple with me!"
Roop, the mole in the spangled bloomers, shook his head dolefully, grumbling in his curious molespeech. "Hurr, no such lukk oi doan't surpose, burr no."
Muggle, the other mole, gathered up a pail and trundled toward the stream. She wrinkled her velvety snout at her companions. "Ee can stan' yurr arguin' all day. Oi'm goin' to get brekkist vittles readied. Bain't goin' to wurr moi jaws out a-shouten."
Florian, who liked to issue all the orders, coughed officiously. "Ahem, rather! Just what I was about to suggest m'self. Right, troupe, breakfast. Elachim, get a fire goin'. Runktipp, see to the larder, the rest of you make y'selves busy, wot. Quick's the word an' sharp's the action, wot wot!"
Runktipp spread the meager rations on the bankside where Muggle was boiling water over the small fire Elachim had kindled. The hedgehog scratched his head spikes. "Ain't enough grub left t'keep a fat bumblebee goin'."
Deesum glanced at the two shriveled apples, dandelion stalks, a stale loaf of ryebread which had crumbled into pieces and some half a dozen withered field mushrooms. "Oh, seasons of mercy on us, the babe will starve!"
Ever the optimist, Florian began chopping the scanty provisions up and tossing them into the pail of bubbling water. "Nonsense, marm. Fiddlesticks! Nature's bounty has provided us with sufficient food for a nourishin' broth. Let's all eat hearty an' look forward to better, more prosperous times, wot!"
The soup was dreadful, but knowing there was nothing else the Wandering Noonvale Companions spooned it down in stoic silence, until Runktipp began eulogizing on past dishes he had eaten, as hungry hedgehogs will invariably do. "Crispy 'ot white bread, straight out o' the oven, that's the stuff. Goes down a treat with some good yellow nutcheese an' young onions fresh picked, all washed down with a foamy beaker of dark ale. Hoho! A feast fit fer a king, I say!"
Borrakul the otter closed his eyes dreamily.
"Pipin' 'ot scones, matey, spread wid meadowcream an' served wid fat juicy strawberries coated in honey, with a flagon of cold cider, o' course. Now, that's a feast fit fer a king!"
Roop picked something dubious out of his soup bowl, wrinkling his nose as he flicked the offending item into the stream. "Burr aye, well, seein' as 'ow you'm two bain't kings, whoi doan't ee use yore mouths furr eatin' an' not makin' us'n's 'ungrier?"
The mousebabe, Dwopple, picked up his bowl and began toddling off. Deesum chided her charge brusquely. "Dwopple, come back here. Where are you taking that soup?"
Dwopple nodded to a rock-strewn knoll along the streambank. "Diss soop not gudd for baybees. Gunna give 'im to the fosskers."
Elachim stared at Dwopple quizzically. "Fosskers?"
Deesum translated. "He means foxes."
Florian was immediately on the alert. "Foxes, what foxes? Where?"
Another pair of Marlfoxes, identical to the two who had accosted Janglur, rose up from amid the rocks where they had lain watching the Companions since dawn. Their names were Gelltor and Predak, brother and sister. Seeing they had been spotted, the pair approached the camp boldly, their drab cloaks flapping slightly in the light morning breeze. Borrakul cautioned his friends, keeping an eye on the strange pair.