Not looking where he was going, Tammo trotted into the area of mossy grass and slipped, landing flat on his back.
Because of the steep incline, he rolled a good way downhill, until be was halted by a boulder.
Russa went by him, looking straight ahead, a smile playing ’round her lips. “Tut tut, I’ve already told ye, matey,
y’can’t Ue down fer a nap until we make camp!”
Tammo learned a lot that first morning. By midday they were standing on top of the hill overlooking the spot
Russa had chosen for a campsite. Down in the valley a little stream tum-.. bled over a rock ledge, forming a tiny
waterfall. There were wild privets and dogwood to one side, making a shady bower. Hot and dusty, Tammo wiped a
paw across his mouth at the sight of fresh water. He saluted smartly at Russa and said, “Permission t’go down an’
chuck m’self in yonder cool water!”
The canny squirrel shrugged. “Suit y’self, matey, if’n that’s what y’feel like doin’.”
The young hare let out a joyful whoop and sped off downhill.
Russa backed off and, dropping out of sight, cut off at a tangent, approaching the glade from a different angle.
Ducking out of his shoulder belt and dirk, Tammo cast both aside and leapt into the water. It was ice cold and
crystal clear. The sudden shock robbed him of his breath for a moment; then he gave vent to a yell of sheer delight. It
was good to be alive on such a day. Gulping down the sweet fresh water, Tammo stood beneath the cascade with his
mouth wide open, falling backward and splashing playfully with all four paws.
“Yerrah! Now dat’s wot I likes ter see, Skulka, a young critter fulla the joys o’ spring!”
Rubbing both eyes and snorting water from his nostrils, Tammo floundered upright to see who had spoken.
Two ferrets, big and lean and clad in tattered rags, stood on the bank, one with an arrow half drawn on her
bowstring, the other with a spear stuck in the ground as he tried on Tammo’s belt and dirk for size.
The young hare knew he was in deep trouble. Glancing around to see if he could spot Russa, Tammo pointed at his
property. “Good day, friends! I say, that’s my belt an’ dirk you’re jolly well tryin’ on, y’know!”
The female kept her arrow centered on Tammo. Turning to her partner, she revealed a row of snaggled, discolored
teeth in a grin. “Lah de dah, Gromal, ain’t ’e got nice manners? Didyer know mat’s ’is jolly ole dirk’n’ belt yore tryin’
on?”
Gromal had fastened the belt around his waist, and now he was stroking the dirk handle and admiring the fine
blade. “Ho, is it now? Well ’ere’s the way I sees it, Skulka. That beast flung ’isself in our water widout so much as a
by yer leave. Lookat ’im there, drinkin’ away an’ sportin’ about as if it belonged to ’im!”
Tammo stood quite still in the stream and managed to force a friendly smile at the evil pair. “Accept my apologies,
you chaps. Sorry, I didn’t know the stream belonged to you. I’ll just hop right out.”
Gromal pulled his spear from the ground. “Aye, that’s the ticket, me young bucko. You jus”op right up ’ere on the
bank so’s we kin search yer. Yore gonna pay fer the use of our water. Keep that shaft aimed at ’im, Skulka. If’n ’e
makes one false move, shoot ’im atween the eyes an’ slay ’im!”
Skulka drew her bowstring tight, sniggering. “If ’e don’t ’ave no more val’ables, then mebbe we c’n use ’im as a
slave fer a few seasons.”
A hardwood stick came whirling in a blur from the tree «over and struck the arrow, snapping it clean in two pieces.
Russa hurtled out like a lightning bolt, shoving Skulka into the water and launching herself at Gromal. She caught him
a terrific headbutt to the stomach, and he crumpled to the ground, mouth open as he fought for air. Tammo waded
swiftly to the shallows, and as Skulka staggered upright, he dealt her a powerful kick with both footpaws. She fell
back in the water, and he sat upon her, applying all his weight.
Russa had relieved Gromal of the dirk; now she grabbed her hardwood stick and stood waiting for him to rise. He
came up fast, seizing his spear and charging her. Almost casually she stepped to one side, dealing him three quick hard
blows to the back of his head as he rushed by her. The ferret dropped like a log.
Ignoring him, she turned to Tammo and said, “Best let tfaat’n up afore ye drown her, mate.”
Tammo hauled Skulka dripping and spluttering from the stream. He shook water from his eyes, peering indignantly
at Russa. “I say, y’might’ve told me about these two before you let me flippin’ well dash down here an’ dive in the
water, wot?”
The squirrel kicked Skulka flat, trapping her across the throat with the hardwood stick. Then she shrugged
indifferently. “I didn’t know they were down there. Besides, you couldn’t wait to dash into the water. I never approach
a campsite without checkin’ it out first, mate, and so should you.”
Tammo heaved a sigh as he took his belt from the fallen ferret. “Another jolly old lesson learned, I suppose?”
Russa patted his back heartily. “You jolly well suppose right, me ol’ pal!”
While the two ferrets sat on the bank recovering from their drubbing, Russa paced around them. She glanced across
at Tammo, who was carrying the haversack out of the shrubbery where she had left it. “What d’you think we should do
with these vermin, Tamm, kill ’em, or let ’em go?”
The young hare was shocked at the suggestion of coldblooded slaying. “Russa Nodrey!” he cried, his voice almost
shrill with outrage. “You can’t just kill them! You wouldn’t!”
The squirrel’s face was impassive. “D’you know why I’m alive today? ’Cos my enemies are all dead. Make no
mistake about it, Tamm, these two scum would’ve slain you just fer fun if I hadn’t been here.”
The ferrets began to wail imploringly.
“No no, we was just sportin’ wid yer, young sir!”
“We ain’t killers, we’re pore beasts fallen on ’ard times!”
Russa curled her lip scornfully. “Aye, an’ I’m a bluebird wid a frog for an uncle!”
Tammo placed himself between Russa and the ferrets. “You’re not goin’ to slay them. I’ll stop you, Russa!”
The squirrel sat down and, unfastening the haversack, began selecting a few of Mem Divinia’s pancakes. “Huh! No
need t’fall out over a pair of nogoods like them. Please yoreself, mate, do what y’like with ’em.”
Tammo flung Skulka and Gromal’s weapons into the water, then he drew his dirk and pointed it at the cringing
duo. “Get up an’ get goin’, you chaps. I never want to see your ugly faces again. Quick now, or I’ll let Russa loose on
you!”
Without a backward glance, the pair sped off as if pursued by a flight of eagles. Tammo put up his dirk. “There,
that’s settled!”
Russa filled a beaker with water from the stream. “So you say, me ole mate.”
“What d’you mean, so I say?”
“Ah, you’ll learn one day. I thought you were starvin’. Come an’ get some o’ these vittles down yer face.”
They dined on pancakes spread with honey, beakers of stream water, and a wedge of cold turnip and carrot pie
apiece. The sun was unusually hot for early spring, and Tammo felt rather giddy after their adventure. Finding a soft
shady spot beneath the hedgerow, he was asleep in a trice. Russa sat with her back against a dogwood trunk and
napped with one eye open.
8
When the sun was past its zenith, Russa woke Tammo. He felt marvelously refreshed and immediately shouldered
the haversack, saying, “My turn to carry this awhile. Come on, pal, where to now?”