“Theres not many seen this. My ancestors were showed it by an old Badger Lord who came after Sunflash. Here, watch now. The seat was made by two flat slabs placed one on top of the other. He lifted the top slab to reveal the bottom stone beautifully carved in fine badger script.
Here I often gaze out oer the seas,
When winter snows have gone to spring so fair,
Alone, except for butterflies and bees,
Remembering the times we used to share.
Your spirit soars oer places where Id walk,
Not holding any friend on earth so true,
Upon my shoulder, good and faithful hawk,
O Skarlath, there was never one like you!
With heavy heart I sit alone in grief,
Lord of the mountain, ruling over all,
Wishing I could split a single leaf,
To bring you back again, with our old call.
The harewife traced her paw over the letters carved countless seasons ago, saying quietly, “A great and wise badger with many unusual qualities.
The old otter leaned on his traveling staff, watching the young hares gathered around the stone, reading the poem. “Aye, Salamandastron flourished under his rule. It would be good for these young uns to learn from one like Sunflash.
Burrbob looked up from the carved seat. “Theres not been a jolly old Badger Lord here for absolute ages, sirwell, not in my lifetime there aint.
Rillbrook put his paw around the young hares shoulder, smiling and shaking his head. “Great seasons, not in your lifetime? That must be a fair old span of dusty days!
Burrbob looked hopefully up at the old storyteller. “Dyou think a badger will ever come to Salamandastron again, sir?
Rillbrook sat the young hare down upon the stone seat. “This mountain is never without a Badger Lord for too long. The warrior spirit seems to draw them here from afar. If you sit here for a short time each day and watch those shores below, some day youll see that badger come striding along. Grow up strong and honest, all of you, and serve that badger well. It is the duty of Salamandastron hares to do this.
Drawing his cloak about him, Rillbrook the Wanderer tapped his ash-pole staff on the rock and set off on his travels. “Farewell, my friends, and thank you for your hospitality, but the wayside beckons and the breezes call me away.
As Rillbrook picked his way slowly down the mountainside, the harewife called after him, “Wait on the shore below, Ill bring you a haversack of food!
Rillbrook waved his staff in acknowledgment.
Remembering their manners, Burrbob and the young hares scrambled to assist the old otter down the slope.
“What ho, sir, lean on me!
“Where do you journey to now, sir?
Rillbrook winked at the pretty leveret who had asked the question. “Why, to Red wall Abbey, where else? It will take me several seasons to haul my old carcass that far, but fate and friends have always been good to me. Never fear, Ill make it by next autumn. Its a pretty place to be at harvest time, and the door is always open to friends. Maybe someday youll visit there. Im sure theyd make you welcome.
The young hares and the harewife stood on the beach, watching Rillbrook the Wanderer growing small as he trekked off east into the golden afternoon.
Burrbob raised his paw. “Lets send the old un on his way with a good oF war cry.
Throwing back their heads, they roared out the time-honored call of Salamandastron.
“Eeulaliaaaaaaa!
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