Martin leaped on Dinny suddenly, stifling the mole's mouth with both paws. Trimp sniffed at the Warrior severely.
"Don't be so bad mannered, sir. Let poor Dinny finish his song. Chugger and I were enjoying it!"
Martin shot her a warning glance, his voice an urgent whisper. "Don't make another sound, Trimp. Gonff, throw some water on that fire, and let's get in the stream, quick!"
They obeyed Martin without question. Gonff flung water on the flames, which sizzled and hissed in clouds of white steam. Trimp found herself breathless in the cold stream, pulled there by Dinny. Keeping their heads low, the travelers clung to the raft. A hail of arrows hit the sailcloth shelter, some zipping through, others bouncing off to stick in the deck timbers. These were followed by a volley of slingstones and a couple of throwing spears, both of which buried their points in the food haversacks. Then there was silence.
Chugger clung to Martin's neck, shivering. "I cold an' wet, not nice inna water!"
Another lot of arrows hit the raft. Martin stroked the little squirrel's head, whispering softly, "Ssshhh now, Chugg. Right, let's swim over to the far bank. Try not to make any splashes, go easy."
As they swam off, a harsh voice called from the opposite bank, "Give 'em some more just t'make sure, then we'll board the raft an' have fun with any still breathin'!"
The travelers made it safely to the far bank. Trimp found some dry grass and rolled Chugger in it. Then she joined her friends, watching in the thick bushes by the stream's edge. Swaying under the impact, the raft took several more salvos of missiles. Gonff nudged Dinny. "D'you reckon we're slain by now, Din?"
"Hurr, they'm ratters given ee raft 'nuff to finish off ee troib o' badgerfolk, oi be thinken!"
Martin began gathering pawfuls of pebbles from the shallows. "Let's see how they like a spot of sniping. Wait for my word."
Launching crude logboats, the rats made it clumsily across to the raft. There were so many of them that the raft began to tilt crazily. Boss Girfang, their leader, caught hold of his son Riddig, who was trying to undo one of the haversacks, and snarled at the young rat, "Well, where are they, these creatures that tried t'slay yer? I don't see 'em anywheres."
Riddig cowered under his father's angry glare. "I dunno where they went, but there was five o' them, two ole mice, a fat mole, a young 'og an' a liddle squirrel. They all battered me wid slingstones fer no reason at aljl. I was jus' lyin' on the bank, takin' a nap!"
Girfang tweaked his son's ear sharply. "An' you jus' lay there an' let 'em do it, you, Boss's son? Stinkin' liddle coward, y'make me sick!"
Riddig squealed as Girfang stamped on his tail, protesting, "I never jus' lay there. I got the 'og wid a stick an' the two mice wid big round stones. They can't 'ave got far!"
A dull thud sounded in the night, and one of the rats toppled into the water. Girfang turned on the rest.
"Be still an' leave them 'aversacks alone or you'll 'ave us all in the stream. Stop rockin' the raft, willy er!"
Thonk! A rat screeched and clapped both paws to his jaw. Girfang grabbed the nearest rat, using him as a shield.
"Somebeast's slingin' at us. Get 'em!"
Splat! Thwack! Crack! Thunk!
Vermin let out agonized yells, two fell in the stream, and the raft rocked wildly as big round river pebbles whizzed out of the darkness, causing injury and chaos.
Girfang leaped with the others into the water. Seizing their logboats' sides, they swam madly back to their own bank, peppered relentlessly with stones. No sooner was Girfang on dry land than the slinging ceased. He grabbed Riddig roughly by the scruff and hauled him ashore, then snapped a willow switch from a young sapling.
"Two ole mice, a fat mole, a young 'og an' a liddle squirrel, eh? Yew rotten barefaced liar!"
Riddig danced in an agonized circle, his father holding him tight by the neck scruff and whaling away mercilessly with the willow switch.
"Yeeeee! Oohooh! I wuz tellin' the truth, sir, 'onest I was! Aaaaagh! Yeekyeek! Owowowow!"
"Truth? Yew wouldn't know truth if'n it fell on yer 'ead out of a tree, yer mealy-mouthed fork-tongued worm!" Girfang laid on heavily with the switch, punctuating each word to drive home his message. "There was more'n five beasts stonin' us there, yew forty-faced toad. Must've been at least a dozen, all trained warriors by the way they could aim an' hit so good! Own up, now. There was twelve of 'em, mostly otters from upstream, wasn't there, ye wretch? Tell the truth or I'll flay yer!"
Gonff twirled his sling idly, winking at Trimp as they crouched in the bushes on the far bank. "Does yore heart good lissenin' t'justice bein' done, missie."
The hedgehog maid listened with satisfaction as she heard Riddig's wails echoing into the night.
"Wahaaar, there was twelve otters beside the others. Don't 'it me no more, Boss, please! Twelve otters, you was right. Wahaaahaaahaaa!"
Following this revelation, Girfang could be heard calling to the rest of his tribe as they deserted him. "Where are you lot off to? Git back 'ere!"
Derisive shouts followed his command. "Yah, we ain't scrappin' wid no twelve otters. Go an' fight yer brat's battles yerself. Yore Riddig started it!"
Gonff grinned, stowing his sling about his waist. "Y'know what they say, truth never hurt anybeast!"
Martin unbuckled his sword and borrowed Gonff's dagger. "So they say, mate, but you try telling that to Riddig. I wager he's sorry he ever threw that stick at Trimp. Wait here, I'll swim out to our raft and cut it loose."
Next morning, dry and well breakfasted, the friends sailed onward, staying close to the far bank. Summer warmth raised their spirits, with Gonff confiding aloud to Martin and Trimp, "I reckon it wasn't Riddig caused all that fuss, y'know."
Trimp looked up from the dough she was kneading for lunch. "Was it not? Who do you think was responsible, then?"
"Dinny's singin', of course. It drove the rats wild an' they attacked us just to stop the 'orrible noise, missje."
"Hurr, you'm turrible crool, zurr Gonffen. Mrli ole granmum alius said oi 'ad a voice loik ee lark at furst loight."
"Haha, that's 'cos yore ole grandmum was deaf as a post, Din."
Dinny continued chopping candied fruit, not raising his eyes. "Aye, an' thy ole grandad alius said you'm wurr ee most gurtly 'andsome creature. Noice ole beast ee wurr. Oi used to take 'im furr walks lest ee bump into trees. Bloind ee wurr, pore creetur!"
High noon found them pulled in to a shady inlet out of the hot midday sun. Trimp wanted to bake a candied fruit turnover, but she had no oven. With mole ingenuity, Dinny solved the problem. He cemented flat pieces of shale together with stiff brown clay and water, making a neat little box, which, with the turnover inside, was placed on the fire. Martin and Gonff repaired the torn sail, rent by rat weapons. Nobeast paid much attention to little Chugger. Trimp warned him to stay close to camp, and he did for a while, but while Trimp was busy with her cooking and Dinny was digging for fresh roots and vegetables, Chugger wandered off.
Trimp called to her friends. "Come on, lunch is ready. Bring your appetite with you!"
Hastily washing their paws in the stream, they strolled into camp, sniffing the air appreciatively.
"Boi okey, sum thin' smells noice, marm!"
"Mmm, candied fruit turnover, just the thing!"
"Aye, 'tis ages since I tasted fruit turnover!"
The hedgehog maid had discovered a big flagon of new cider at the bottom of Martin's pack. She poured out beakers for all and laid out chunks of hot turnover on a piece of birch bark she had found before saying, "Where's that rascal Chugger got to?"
Dinny shrugged as he helped himself to lunch. "Ho, ee'm abowt yurr someplace, oi 'spect. You see'd 'im?"
Martin took a gulp of the crisp-tasting apple cider. "Me? No, I thought he was with you, Din. Me an' Gonff were busy fixing up the raft. Did you notice Chugg around, Gonff?"
The Mousethief shook his head. "No, sorry, I ain't seen him." Seating himself, he began blowing on his turnover to cool it. "Hah, ole ChuggTl soon come runnin' when he smells yore cookin', miss Trimp, you'll see!"