Scores of vermin came racing across the beach with Klitch and Ferahgo yelling in the rear.
"Get them! Stop those hares!"
"Kill the two of them if you have to, but stop them!"
The driftwood was just beginning to float as Oxeye pushed his friend aboard. The enemy was now in the shallows, racing
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toward them through the rippling waves. Sapwood turned and grabbed Oxeye* s free paw.
"I haint goin' anyplace without you, Ox!"
Big Oxeye shook his head and laughed. "No no. Sap, you sail away. I'll hold 'em off. Have a good trip!" He whacked Sapwood beneath the chin with the butt of the spear he had taken from Feadle. The Sergeant lay stunned on the dead tree limb as Oxeye pushed it out into the current and the waves began to recede, carrying the makeshift craft into deep water.
A skinny ferret had outdistanced the rest. He waded out, swinging a sword. The big hare disarmed him with a single spear thrust. Grabbing the ferret, Oxeye pushed his head beneath the waves as he called out to the advancing foebeasts, his anger renewing the warrior spirit of his strength: "Come on, chaps, who's next for a jolly good bath?"
Sapwood was out of reaclrof the enemy as the water bore him on a southerly curve. Far behind him Big Oxeye threw himself spear in paw at the foe crowding forward through the waves.
' 'Eulaliaaaaaaaa!"
36
Dumble sat on the edge of little Droony's bed. The mole listened wide-eyed as the baby dormouse described his flight in great fictitious detail.
"Wizooooo! Right up inna sky we was, anna heagle was frightened, but Dumble wasn't, me laughed, haha! like that."
Brother Hollyberry opened his eyes slowly. "Who's that I hear laughing? Woke me up from a lovely sleep."
Thrugann was caught by surprise. She almost dropped a beaker of lector Flower mixture, juggling it in the air as she hooted, "Mercy me! Look, Furgle, it's Brother 'Ollyberry, an' he's waked!"
Furgle clasped his paws together gratefully. "Oh joy! He was first to go into that deadly sleep and the last to come out. Aren't old mousewives tales wonderful? Flowers of lector boiled in springwaterwho'd have ever thought it?"
Mrs. Faith Spinney trudged up from the Infirmary. She was carrying a trayful of hot hazelnut scones, each one with a blob of buttercream and chestnut on top of it.
"Dearie me, bake, bake, bake! I've done nothing the livelong day but bake since you sleepyheads woke up. Friar Bellows, when d'you think you'll be fit for kitchen duties again, sir?"
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The fat friar hopped nimbly from his bed. "Right now, marm. Are those hot hazelnut scones? Very good, very good. I'm quite partial to a well-baked scone."
Faith rapped his paws. "Then get along wi' you an' bake some, you idle mouse. These are for the big bird. I'm afeared greatly of it meself. Here, Dumble, take these to your friend."
Abbess Vale and the two mousemaids Turzel and Blossom watched chuckling from the dormitory window as Dumble and Droony fed the Wild King MacPhearsome on scones.
"Missus Spinney says don't eat too much, you get heagle's tummyache."
"Yurr, Dumble, let oi give heagle a scone. Burr, 'ere y' are, zurr."
MacPhearsome had never tasted such food in all his wild life among the icy crags. He picked the scones from the infant's paws delicately with his savagely curved beak and wolfed them down, showering the two little heads below with crumbs.
"Och, these vittles are braw eatin', Dumble. Ha' ye nae mair o' those wee veggible pasties the guid hedgepig lady made?''
Droony squinched his eyes until they nearly disappeared into his small velvety face. "Bohurr, you'm heagle do be a-talken funny loik. Oi carn't unnerstan' a wurd 'ee be sayen, Dumble."
That evening the tables were laid out in the orchard. Friar Bellows, Faith Spinney, Thrugann and Furgle were setting out a scratch feast in honor of the two saviors of Redwalclass="underline" Dumble and the Wild King MacPhearsome. It had all been done on the spur of the moment with what food was available; nonetheless it was a happy and joyous occasion.
Perched on a specially chosen log, the great golden eagle and Dumble did full justice to the food from their place of honor. A large basin of mole's deeper'n ever tater 'n' turnip 'n' beetroot pie stood steaming in the center of the board, surrounded by woodland salad, yellow and white cheeses and oat farls. Farther out it gave way to candied acorns, hazelnuts
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and chestnuts arranged around flagons of October ale. Three plumcakes, heavy with honey, stood at strategic points, and between them were heaped platters of bilberry, redcurrant and apple tarts, with bowls of greensap milk and rich buttercup cream. Friar Bellows had invented a special MacPhearsome cake, comprised mainly of damson cream, stiff comb honey, arrowroot shortbread and glazed maple shoots. It was difficult for the Wild King to keep a dignified posture and satisfy his ravenous appetite, so Dumble translated for him as he sank his talons into the special cake.
"Ach, yer a bonnie wee mousie, Dumblebringin' yer auld pal MacPhearsome tae sich a gran' blow-oot. I'll remember ye fer aye an a', ye wonderfu' bairn."
Abbess Vale wiped Dumble's cream-caked mouth. "What is your friend saying, Dumble?"
The infant chortled. '""The heagle says to feed me plumcake so I'll grow all bigga an' strong, wiv cream too."
Tudd Spinney and Droony, his new cellar apprentice, rolled out a keg of elderberry wine.
Foremole removed the head from the keg and bowed graciously. "Yurr, zurr, heagle, dip'n 'ee beak into this woin, hurr hurr!"
Thrugg strode down through the foothills, accompanied by Rocangus. Tammbeak and two other able-looking falcons circled overhead as they began the trek back to Redwall. The Laird Mactalon stood waving goodbye with both wings.
"Mind how ye go, lads. Rocangus, ye young rip, watch yer manners an' be civil tae other beasties. Guid luck walk with ye, Sir Thrugg. Yer a braw riverdog an' Ah'm proud tae call ye fren'."
"Och, man faither's no' a bad auld stick," Rocangus whispered to Thrugg. "Just o'er fussy."
Thrugg chuckled as he swung his sling. "Listen, matey, d'you think by chance we could drop in on them crows an' whack the features off 'em? Make the journey back to Red-wall a bit more interestin', eh?"
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Rocangus flexed his good wing. "Ach, yer a wicked riv-erdog, Thrugg, but et's a braw idea!"
The two logboats were about to be lowered from the cliffs in the early dawn when a scream from the rock ledge below cut the still summer air.
"Eeeeyaaahhh! It's the Deepcoiler!"
Log-a-log's face was ashen. "That's Nordo down on the ledge!"
Urthwyte and Loambudd tore into action. Shoving Mara and Pikkle aside, they grabbed the lowering ropes and scrambled down to the ledge, Mara and Log-a-log following them as soon as the ropes were clear.
Like some grotesquely twisted tree trunk, the reptile lay half in and half out of the water, its tail trailing off into the take depths and its monstrous head laid flat on the rock ledge.
"Stay clear! It'll kill you all!" Ashnin yelled down after
them.
Mara ventured forward cautiously, staring into the wide-open eyes that were glazed over with a milky film.' 'It's dead!''