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Suddenly Tansy recalled the previous night. "Before I fell asleep last night I thought I heard the voice of Martin the Warrior. He said to me, the Abbess will find it for Piknim on the same ground where the fifth was found. At least I think that's what he said. I can't recall anything else because at that point I must've fallen asleep."

Craklyn hurled an armchair cushion at her friend. "You great puddenhead, Martin spoke to you last night and you've only just thought to mention it now?"

Tansy caught the cushion and threw it back. "Well, that's because I only recalled it now! Tell that bushtailed buffoon, will you, Rollo!"

The old Recorder took the cushion as Craklyn aimed it for another throw. He stared at them both over his glasses and said, "Now, now, young maids, no fighting please. Tansy's right, Craklyn, the remembrance of our dreams is often triggered by somebeast saying a certain phrase. For instance, a moment ago I said that we must find those pearls for Piknim. Martin mentioned the words find it for Piknim, and that's what caused Tansy to remember. Though it does sound rather odd, 'the Abbess will find it for Piknim.' Which Abbess? Redwall only has an Abbot, fates and fortunes rest favorably upon him wherever he is now. We don't have an Abbess."

"But we do have a clue at last," said Tansy, who had brightened up considerably. "On the same ground where the fifth was found. We found the fifth pearl in Great Hall. Come on!"

Friar Higgle and Auma were carrying things out to the shore of the Abbey pond. Halfway across Great Hall, laden with firewood and sweet herbs, they stopped at the sight of the three friends standing in the middle of the large chamber, looking about.

"Hi there, what are you searching for, more clues?" Auma called.

Craklyn explained about Tansy's dream to the badger Mother, and Auma found herself looking around at the ceiling, walls and floor. "We must never ignore anything Martin tells us," she said, "but what are you hoping to find here?"

Rollo held up the scrap of parchment for her to see. "A purple arrowhead, that's what it says here."

Friar Higgle took the parchment. "Let me see that. Aye, yore right, a purple arrow'ead, but you got to look for it when Redwallers lie abed, at midnight by the light o' the full moon. So till then you may's well do somethin' useful, like 'elp us to set up supper on the pond edge. Lucky fer you there is a full moon t'night. Supper's alius good fun on a summer night by the pond when 'tis moonlit."

Gurrbowl, Diggum and Arven were in the kitchens, loading up a procession of Redwallers with food to take out to the pond's edge. Diggum made sure Tansy was well laden.

"Yurr, marm, ee be a gurt strongbeast, you'm be taken this cheese an' yon breads, cummon, 'old out ee paws!"

"I can't!" Tansy protested vigorously. "I'm already carrying a meadowcream trifle, a pear flan and a stack of mint wafers, any more and I'll drop something."

The molebabe stared severely at Tansy and balanced a loaf on her head. "Thurr, doan't run now an' coom straight back yurr, oi've lots more for ee t'carry, hurr aye!"

Tansy hid a smile from the bossy molebabe. "A slavedriver, that's what you are, Diggum."

Arven prodded her none too gently. "Keep a movin' y'likkle maggit, you 'oldin' up d'line!"

Tansy tottered, trying to keep her load balanced. "Yowch! You fiendish infant, what's that you're prodding me with?"

Arven waggled the implement under her nose threateningly. "It my whip, now keepa goin' or y'get more prodders!"

Hurriedly Tansy unloaded her burdens onto a table and made a grab at Arven's whip. "That's Fermald's old fishing rod. The rod!"

Rollo let go of a heavy cheese he was rolling; it trundled off alone across the kitchen floor. "What rod?"

Tansy showed it to him proudly. "This rod, Fermald's old favorite. Think of the rhyme, travel east, six rods from the tip. When we do have to travel east I'll wager this is the rod we measure off with!"

The Recorder of Redwall chased off after his cheese, calling, "Well done, miss, it looks like things are coming together a bit!"

Firelight and full moon reflected in the waters of Redwall Abbey pond. Every creature sat upon the sandy bank, leaving the food untouched until Auma had finished speaking.

“ Friends, Redwallers all, let us not forget in the midst of this summer night's festivities the names of our good Father Abbot Durral and young Viola bankvole. May the season protect them from harm wherever they may be this hour. Let us also keep in mind our Abbey Warrior, Martin. He and Clecky, with the sons of Log a Log and the otter Grath are probably out on the great waters, searching for Abbot Durral to bring him back safely home to our Abbey; and Rangapaw and her brave crew are ranging in the woods, still hunting for poor Viola. Let us wish them success in their endeavors. Strong hearts and true companions!"

Every voice echoed Auma's last words, "Strong hearts and true companions!"

Arven flung a piece of fruitcake in the pond. "Anna likkle supper for d'big fish who live down der!"

A silvery flash followed by a faint splash told them that the female grayling had taken the squirrelbabe's offering. The Redwallers took this as a good omen and cheered.

Gerul sat with Skipper, Foremole and Higgle. The greedy owl grabbed the remainder of the fruit cake Arven had broken to feed the fish, saying, "Ah, now, don't be givin' any more vittles to that scaly divvil, 'twill only make it fat an' lazy. Here, Skipper, would y'pass a pore bird some o' that woodland pudden, it might do me broken wing a power o' good, so it might. Foremole, pour the October ale, will yer, before we all die o' the drought!"

Higgle laughed at the irrepressible owl as he set his talons on a chestnut and mushroom flan. "Hoho! Is there anythin' I can do for ye, sir? May'aps you'd like me to wipe yore beak in between bites?"

Gerul widened his great eyes at the Friar. "Ah sure there's no need fer that kind o' talk, me good feller, but seein' as y'sittin' there doin' nothin', why not gerrout that hogtwanger thing o' yores an' play us a tune? As me ould mother used t'say, y'can play dead, play sick or play yer friends false, but y'better playin' a tune if y'can carry one."

Higgle produced the curious instrument and began tuning it on his headspikes. "I'll play if you sing. D'you know 'Trees o' the Wood'?"

Clearing his beak with a draft of October ale, Gerul nodded. " 'Tis an ould ditty Clecky an' meself sang together as a trio."

Craklyn grinned. “The two of you must have sounded amazing as a trio. You start, sir, and I'll take the alternate line. Ready, one, two..."

The hogtwanger struck up and the pair sang with a will.

“ Abroad I strolled in the forest one day,

I walked till me paws were sore weary,

I heard an ould mistle thrush close by me say,

'O here's to the woodland so cheery!

There's ash and beech and rowan and oak,

Weepin' willow with leaves trailin' down O,

Many rowans I've known full o' berries when grown,

And laburnum that wears a gold crown O.

So of all the trees growin' here in the wood,

Tell me which is the finest and best, sir,

I'll find that one ere springtime is gone,

And I'll surely build me a nice nest there.

There's cedar and elm and hornbeam and yew,

Sycamore buckthorn and alder so fine,

Sweet chestnut and fir and shrub elder where

Grow dark berries on which I can dine.

Aye I'll find a stout tree for to make a safe nest,

Just like a good-livin' bird should,