Passing out the small baskets to the little ones, the mole chuckled at their antics. "They'm be barskets, not sandals, take 'em off'n ee futtpaws."
Columbine was settling Abbess Germaine down in a wheelbarrow full of soft moss, beneath the shade of a spreading horse chestnut tree. Both of them broke down laughing at the sight of Bella leading the band of pickers in a harvest dance, singing as she went. Clutching Columbine's paw, the ancient Abbess chuckled. "Oh dearie me an' preserve m'paws! It's like seeing a great boulder roll down a mountainside, watching our Bella dance! Heeheehee!"
Columbine skipped aside as Bella hurtled by. "Hahahaha! Maybe so, but there's those not even half Bella's age who can't keep up with her!"
Winding its way through trees and around bushes, the merry dance went on, with everybeast singing their hearts out.
"Now go good son and daughter,
Haste to our orchard fair,
And gather in the harvest,
Which lies a-waiting there.
Ripe apples, ripe apples, are falling to the ground,
As pears so sweet and juicy are lying all around!
Keep singing pretty daughter,
Until the work is done,
So you don't eat the berries,
And leave your mother none.
Blackberries, ripe cherries, don't bruise or break them miss,
For sweetness can be lost, like a faithless lover's kiss!
The gooseberry and greengage,
Are bittersweet my son,
And damson has a heart stone,
You'll find before you're done.
Enchanting, enticing, like wild grape on the vine,
The maidens want to help you, to let their paws entwine!
So pick a berry, sing so merry,
Harvest time is here,
Go skipping 'round our orchard,
My son and daughter dear!"
Bella stood tall. Reaching a high branch, she pulled it down to her face and sniffed deep. "Aaahhh! Nought so sweet as the smell of a good russet apple on the bough. Mmmmm! I could sniff 'em all day!"
Beneath her, a hogwife stood tapping her footpaw, sack held wide open and waiting. "Beg pardon, miz Bell, but could y'leave off sniffin' an' start shakin' afore it goes dark?"
"Oops, silly old me. Sorry!"
The badger gave the bough a mighty shake, releasing ripe russets in a shower. When she looked down, the hogwife was still tapping her footpaws, two apples impaled on her headspikes, another two on her back.
"Tch tch! Miz Bell marm, 'twould be a help if'n you shook 'em into the sack!"
Columbine and Germaine were picking redcurrants, the Abbess keeping a curious eye on Gonflet.
"My dear, what is that little son of yours up to? He's supposed to be gathering raspberries, isn't he?"
Columbine could not help smiling as she watched the little mouse. He would fill both his smock pants with fruit, take a furtive glance left and right, then scurry off to empty his load into a trug hidden beneath the berry hedge.
"Hmm, just like his father, a real mousethief. He's not happy unless he thinks he's stealing something, Mother Abbess. I'll have to turn him upside down and shake him before he goes to bed tonight. Otherwise there'll be raspberries squashed around the dormitory for the rest of the season. Little pickle. He's a good worker, though!"
The harvesting was going well, moles trundling off to the storerooms with laden trollies as the fruit was picked and basketed or bagged up. At midday the cooks borrowed three trolleys to bring lunch for the pickers. Mayberry and Catkin repulsed any advances on the food with frosty glances and severe words.
"Not a single bite until you've washed at the pond!"
"Gracious me, look at those sticky paws. Away with you!"
Migglo gave them a whiskery grin. "That's the stuff, missies! You tell 'em! Go on, yore the cooks, 'tis up to you!"
Emboldened, the ottermaids spared nobeast from censure.
"Miz Bella, have you been pickin' apples with yore nose? You can just go an' wash y'face, this instant!"
"Hmph, shame on you, Mother Abbess. 'Tis up t'you to set an example. Look at yourself, redcurrant juice from tail to ears. Gurdle, help her to get washed, please!"
Columbine's giggles were cut short as they turned their attentions upon her.
"'Tis no laughin' matter, miz Columbine. Shame on you!"
"Aye, woe 'pon you if'n mister Gonff was to see y'now. We'll inspect those paws after you've washed 'em!"
It was a simple and satisfying lunch which had been prepared for the harvesters. Sliced apples, cheese and fresh crusty bread, with new cider or cold mint tea to sip and strawberries with meadowcream for dessert. Columbine sat beneath the chestnut tree with her friends, still shaking her head and smiling over the bossy cooks.
"Honestly, I felt just like a naughty Dibbun, the way those two young snips ordered me off to the pond!"
The Abbess sandwiched a wedge of cheese with bread. "Me, too, bless their hearts. They meant well, though."
Bella snorted. "Meant well? The little tyrantsthey sent me back to the pond twice to wash my snout properly!"
Migglo had been eavesdropping, and he called across to them, "Aye, but they're a credit to ole Skipper, that they are!"
Suddenly, everybeast started with fright as a loud cry rent the air.
"Redwaaaaaaaaaalll!"
Bella was on her paws in a flash, pointing upward. "Look! They've raised the weather vane on south gable!"
Everybeast in the orchard raised their paws and returned the shout to the tiny figures high up on the Abbey building.
"Redwaaaaaaaaaallll!"
Cheering broke out as the Squirrelqueen, Lady Amber, stood out, balancing on the crosspieces of the iron vane, swaying as a light breeze turned its metal arrow topspike. Ferdy and Coggs clung to the North and South struts, waving jubilantly to their friends below. As Columbine gazed up at the completed south wall, she hugged the Abbess. "Oh, they've done it, Mother Abbess. Isn't il beautiful!"
Germaine looked for as long as she could, then shut her eyes tight to stem the tears.
"At last! My Redwall Abbey. I never thought I'd live to see the dream become reality!"
Bella picked the Abbess up as though she weighed nothing, sitting the ancient mouse upon her shoulder to allow her a better view. While Germaine was up there, Bella took advantage of her robe hem to wipe her own eyes.
"Three cheers for Redwall Abbey. May it stand as long as seasons change and the sun rises, my friends!"
Never were three cheers raised so joyously.
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!"
Chapter 38
On a rare boisterous autumn morn, two otters stood waist deep in the waters where Northfork stream merged with the main flow seaward. It was here in the swirl of currents that the finest watershrimp were to be found. Unstaking a long tubular reed net, they hauled it carefully to the bank. The elder of the pair, a sleek tough otterwife, instructed her half-grown son in the rudiments of his tribe's fishing tradition.
"Always haul the net in slow'n'easy, Jiddy. I seen silly beasts lose all their catch many a time, from rushin' things. There now, lookit our net, son, bulgin' with the liddle beauties. Tie the end off good'n'tight, that's it!"
Grinning from ear to ear, Jiddy patted the well-packed net. "Haharr, wait'll Chief Tungro claps eyes on this lot! I bet by next season he'll let me come 'ere alone"
The young otter had no time for further conversation. His mother knocked him flat into the cover of hanging willow fronds. Stifling his mouth with a swift paw, she lay beside him, peering upstream at the strange craft in the distance.
"Strike me rudder, will y'look at that thing. I ain't never seen nothin' like it in these waters. Wait! I'd know that beast standin' in the bows if'n he was the last otter on earth. C'mon, Jid, let's get the bad news back to Tungro!"
They hurried off southward along the bank, toting the loaded net between them, with Jiddy, like most youngsters, besieging his mother with questions.