"Up y'come, rascal. 'Ere, Gonff, look wot I caught, a Chuggfish! Funny liddle critter, never seen one wid a tail that long!"
Shaking water from his ruffled fur, the baby squirrel drew himself imperiously to his full height. "I norra Chuggfish, h'i a likkle squiggle!"
White water boiled about the surface, while high banks narrowed and dipped sharply downward. Furmo gave orders to stow the sail, and his Guosim shrews took up their positions at the logboats' oars, keeping the vessel in midstream with strong skillful strokes. Soon they were all thoroughly drenched by spray and unable to hear each other talk because of the roaring waters. Log a Log and Martin with long poles sculled at the after end. The Warrior mouse noticed that the shrew Chieftain was no longer singing and smiling. Grim-faced and silent, he struggled to keep the raft on course.
Now the raft really began to buck, side to side and up and down, sometimes rearing high out of the stream and returning to hit the water with a resounding splash. Twice it was whirled completely around on the treacherous current, Martin and Furmo poling furiously to turn it. Trimp knew they were in trouble when Gonff pushed her and Chugger flat, shouting at them to hold tight. Gripping the tough vines that held their craft together, Trimp locked both footpaws around her little friend. Lifting her face, the hedgehog maid took a quick glance ahead. What she saw took her breath away.
A rainbow bridged either bank, shining through a misty curtain of cascading watermist. The raft rushed through it. Then there was nothing!
Martin heard himself yell with surprise as his pole snapped on a rock at the waterfall's edge. The entire vessel, raft and logboats, sailed out into space. Log a Log's voice cut across the sudden silence.
"Hang on, maaaaaaaaaates!"
Then the thunderous roar of falling water took over. They were falling, down, down, with a view of beach and sea to the front and an awesome sheet of rushing water at their back. Gripping fiercely to anything within reach, the breath torn from their mouths, they plunged downward, tilting as the raft went head first, for what seemed like an eternity. Down, down, down ... Whooooooom!
The broad surface of a pool at the bottom exploded with the impact. By its own momentum the vessel was plunged deep into the pool, breaking into pieces as it went.
Water rushed into Trimp's mouth. Her eyes opened. Everything was cold, silent and vague. Half conscious, she stared about. Somewhere high above, the water was billowing in thick white clouds, and she tried to fight down panic as she felt Chugger pawing feebly at her. They were both trapped under a log from the raft, which had become wedged in the rocks at the pool's bottom. Then the little squirrel's paws went limp. Panic surged through Trimp with the sudden realization that both her and Chugger's lives were going to end, trapped underwater and alone. Bubbles burst from her mouth as water flooded relentlessly in. Forgetting her plight for a moment, the hedgehog maid felt a tremendous wave of pity tug at her heart for Chugger. The little squirrel was still a baby. What a sad way for him to end a tragically short life. She reached down and held his paw, thinking that at least he would have her with him. Then the arrival of Folgrim jolted her failing senses.
Setting himself between the rocks, he bent his body, levering outward with all four paws, veins standing out on his neck as he added the strength of his rudderlike tail and the back of his broad skull. Folgrim pushed until the scars on his face stood out like blue ropes. There was a grinding crunch, followed by a muffled clonking noise. The log floated upward, free, the rocks trapping it having been forced apart by the otter's wild strength. Folgrim seized Chugger by his tail and Trimp by one paw. Setting himself firm in the sand, he thrust mightily upward, tail and footpaws working in unison. In a stream of bubbles all three shot to the surface. Willing paws pulled them ashore.
Martin took a quick check of his crew. "Dinny, where's Dinny?"
The words had hardly left his mouth before Folgrim plunged in again, streaking underwater like an arrow. White sand and shell fragments, together with weeds and grains of rock, clouded the bottom a pearly gray color. Folgrim swam to an overturned logboat and wormed his way underneath. The otter's head broke water in a small air pocket trapped in the upturned vessel, and Dinny's head was facing him. The mole tugged his snout in polite relief. "Gudd day to ee, zurr. Oi 'oped sumbeast'd cumm afore ee air runned out in yurr. Oi doan't moind tellin' ee, oi'm gurtly affrighted o' liven unnerwater. Us moles be loik that, 'appy unnerground, but sad unnerwater, ho urr!"
The otter showed his filed teeth in a smile. "Then shut yore eyes, 'old yore breath an' 'ang on t'my paw, mister Din. Soon 'ave y'back on land, matey!"
Chugger shot fountains of water everywhere as he recovered. Trimp, who was no worse for her ordeal, sat watching Furmo anxiously. "Oh, say he's going t'be all right, sir?"
Chuckling, the Guosim leader pressed gently on the little squirrel's stomach and another jet of water arose. "This 'un'U be fine, missie, don't git yoreself in a fret. I seen shrewbabes swaller twice that amountit never seemed to 'arm the liddle fellers a bit!"
Chugger opened one eye, his paw rising to point accusingly at Furmo. "You keep punchin' Chugga's tummy an' I swirt water in you eye, sh'ew!"
Furmo held Chugger upside down and shook him thoroughly, letting the baby squirrel go as he snapped at his footpaws. "See, I told yer, miss, he's stronger'n a growed eel!"
Dinny rolled himself into the warm sand until he looked like a white moleghost. He went and sat by Martin, who shook his head and burst out laughing.
"Have a rest, go to north shores, make it a holiday, take all summer! Some rest, eh, Din? Some holiday!"
Gonff dug a big raft splinter from his tail and sighed with relief. "Well, look at me, mates, I'm enjoyin' meself no end. Only one thing missin' though ..."
Martin knew what was coming, so he interrupted Gonff. "Food! That's what it is, isn't it, you felonious famine-faced soup-stealer!"
Gonff picked his teeth nonchalantly with the splinter. "How'd you guess, noble britches? Ahoy there, Furmo, wot's the position on vittles, matey?"
One of the Guosim cooks answered for his leader. "Flour's ruined, fruit's all right though, plenty o' fresh water in that pool. Biscuits we baked this mornin' are lost in the stream. I reckon we could stand a few fresh supplies of wotever the land has to offer 'ereabouts."
Martin took charge, issuing orders. "Right, anybeast who feels up to it can forage for food. We'll split up around these hills and dunes on the shoreline. Dinny, you stay here with miss Trimp and Chugger and take a rest. See what you can salvage from the wreckage."
Chapter 12
Trimp was still feeling a bit sick and dizzy from her ordeal in the pool, but with Chugger about it was difficult to rest.
"Chugger, come away from that water. It's very deep!"
"Ho, Chugg know it deep. I beena bottum of it!"
"Yes, well that's where you'll find yourself again if you don't come away. Come on, this instant!"
"Yah, lea' me alone, me an' mista Din doin' a job, see!"
The mole picked him up with one huge digging claw. "Oi can doo ee job on moi own thankee, maister. Naow, you'm do loik miz Trimp tell ee an' no cheek frumm ee!"
A fox appeared as if from nowhere. Behind him were four roguish-looking vermin, an assortment of rats and ferrets.
The fox looked the wickedest of all five. He was obviously their leader, and wore big hooped brass earrings and tattered silks. Faded tattoos showed on the paw holding a sharp single-headed ax. He gestured at Chugger.
"Haharr, young 'un, you lissen t'yore elders an' don't be cheekin' 'em. Avast now, cullies, wot 'ave we 'ere?"
One of the vermin sniggered. "Dinner, that's wot we got!"
Shaking his head in censure, the fox growled, "Stow that kind o' gab, Fribb, these 'ere are gentlebeastsa mite grubby, but respectable. Ain't that right, missie?"