Running as fast as they could, the friends kept Krar in sight as he winged slowly along, just beneath the tree-tops, taking care not to lose them. After a while they saw a broad green hillock thrusting itself above the woodland. At its top was a pine grove. Krar swooped down, landing alongside Gonff.
"Yonder lies the carrion stronghold, O Prince. I pray thee make no move. We have been seen!"
As he spoke, a crowd of gray-black crows of the hooded variety came fluttering out of the pines like ragged dark pieces of cloth blown on the wind, coming to rest on the level sward below the hill. Their bold, harsh chatter filled the air as they swaggered forward to meet the interlopers, wings folded, beaks thrust forth aggressively. In a less fraught situation, the sight of their curious rolling gait might have been comical, but these were savage birds, who brooked no trespassers on their land. Krar whispered, "Bide here, friends. Warrior, keep thy blade ready. Now, I will go hence and parley, for I know the carrion tongue."
He strode out, erect and disdainful, and a big crow, far heavier than the rest, waddled forward to meet him. At a point between the crows and the travelers both birds halted. Eye to eye they stood, beaks almost touching. The crow leader hit the soil several times with his beak, casually, as if showing his contempt by digging for worms.
He made harsh cawing noises. "Kraaaw rakkachakka krawk karraaaaak?"
The goshawk rapped sharply back at him. "Arrakkarraka!"
The crow gestured carelessly with one wing. "Nakraaaak!"
Evidently it was not the answer Krar desired. The goshawk made his move without a moment's hesitation.
Charging forward, he slammed the crow to the ground with a ferocious headbutt and began hammering him ruthlessly with beak and talons. Cawing and hopping about excitedly, the crow gang called out encouragement to their leader, but he did not possess the warrior's heart or ferocity of the goshawk. It was over in a trice. A few long gray-black feathers flew in the air and the crow leader lay defeated.
With sharp pecks and talon scratches, Krar forced the crow to stand. The brave goshawk rapped out a command at his beaten foe. "Chavaaragg!"
Humiliated, the crow turned to face his gang, spreading his wings limply and dropping them so they trailed upon the grass.
Trimp nudged Martin. "I know Krar has won, but what's he doing?"
The Warrior had understood it all, he knew. "Those feathers that you see are the crow's pinfeathers. Krar ripped them out. That crow will never be able to fly again. Krar forced him to show his wings to the others as a warning. Hush now, Trimp, I want to see what happens next!"
The goshawk took to the air. Sailing over the heads of the crows, he winged upward, landing in the biggest nest, atop the highest tree. A female crow shot out of it with a terrified squawk. Krar dipped his beak into the nest and came up with an egg in it. He put the egg back. Spreading his wings he flapped them, screeching harshly at the crows. Then with a powerful thrust he ripped a chunk from the nest with his talons and cast it down to earth. Pandemonium broke out down below. The crows dashed into the pine grove, cawing and leaping about in distress. Martin spoke as he watched them, having interpreted the goshawk's move.
"He's threatening to rip all the nests to shreds, starting with the crow leader's, unless they bring out Chugger. Watch!"
"Trimp! Gonff! It me, Chugg, here I are!"
Dashing out of the pine grove, with the crows behind shooing him on, Chugger hurtled forward, tripping and rolling down the hill, giggling as he went. "Heeheehee, yah yah ole fedderybums!"
Trimp swept him up into her paws, kissing the little fellow and lecturing him at the same time. "Such language, master Chugg. Thank the seasons you're safe. Why did you go wandering off like that, eh? Oh, my little Chugg, you had us worried to death!"
Chugger threw his tiny paws wide, grinning broadly. "See, it me, Chugg! I norra hurted, big birds frykkened o' me, I smacka smacka dem wiv big sticks, ho yes!"
Gonff hugged Chugger fondly, then turned stern. "You liddle fibber, smackin' crows with big sticks indeed. But let me tell you, bucko, remember what Girfang did to young Riddig, eh? Well, any more fibs an' runnin' off when yore told to stay near camp an' you'll get the same off me!"
Chugger hid his face in Trimp's tunic and sulked. Martin threw a paw about Gonff's shoulders. "Big old softie, I'll wager you wouldn't have the heart to lay a paw on Chugger, would you, O Prince?"
The Mousethief struck a regal pose, looking down his nose. "Oh, I don't know, you'd be surprised what us royal types can do when we're in the mood. I usually have any mouse who leans upon me beheaded, so remove your paw, common fellow, afore you incur me wrath!"
Martin looked at Trimp in mock horror. "Such an air of command these royal ones have about them!"
The hedgehog kicked Gonff lightly in the tail. "Yes, O Prince, it's your turn to cook the supper when we get back to camp!"
Krar landed in their midst, managing not to knock anybeast over with his giant wings. He gestured with his beak. "Best we begone from this place. Methinks there be but one of me and too many of yon carrion. Let us away now!"
Chapter 8
As there was still plenty of daylight left, the travelers opted to sail farther rather than lie about in camp. Krar Woodwatcher saw them off on the streambank.
"Fare thee well, O Prince of Mousethieves, fortune go with thee. Thou wilt not see me, but I will guard the air and watch o'er thee 'til thou art gone from my domain. Be you subject to thy Prince's commands and behave thyself, squire Chugg, or I will give thee back to yon carrion. Fortune attend thee, dame Trimp, my friend. Thou too, good Dinny, and thee, sir Martin. I'll not lightly forget that ye forswore thine honor for me. Go now, goodbeasts!"
Chugger began weeping as they sailed off downstream. "Wahaah! Chugg not want Krar t'be gonned!"
Martin let the little fellow work one of the paddles. "Krar isn't gone, Chugg, he's watching over us, even though we can't see him. Give him a wave, go on!" Chugger waved a chubby paw and felt somewhat better. As the Warrior held the paddle with the squirrel-babe, he explained as best he could. "Sometimes friends do go from usit will happen more and more as you grow up, Chugg. But if you really love your friends, they're never gone. Somewhere they're watching over you and they're always there inside your heart."
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Toward evening they saw fireglow in the distance. With complete silence and great caution, the friends approached it, hoping that if it were anybeast hostile, they might slip by unnoticed. But as a voice raised in song echoed on the dusky air, Gonff relaxed, chuckling.
"I'd know that barrel-bellied baritone anywhere, mates. Now there's a fine voice for ye, but don't tell him I said it. Haharr, listen to 'im, will you!"
It was a fine voice, more bass than baritone. Deep and rich, it thrummed out over the babbling streamnoises.
"Hoooooo rum turn toe, follah diddle doh,
Me boots are full of water,
An' the bread won't rise,
So I'm scoffin' apple pies,
An' swiggin' good dark porter.
Hooooooo bless my fur, an' you sit over there,
There's honeycake an' salad,
An' you've got no choice,
But t'listen to me voice,
As I sing you this ballad!"
A look of pure mischief spread across Gonff's face. Cupping both paws around his mouth, he sang out in a perfect imitation of the singer's deep voice.
"Hoooooooo you sit there, an' I'll sit here,
An' I won't hear yore ballad,
But I'll scoff yore pie,
An' I'll look ye in the eye,
With me ears stuffed full o' salad!"
From around a bend in the bank, a small neat logboat came shooting out, propelled by a fat shrew with an ash stave. Trimp knew that shrews were usually aggressive and short-tempered, but this one was different. He performed a joyful jig at the prospect of company. It came as no surprise that the shrew and Gonff knew each other. As the former leaped aboard the raft, they pounded backs and shook paws.