"Hurr, oi'd say roight yurr whurr oi be a settin'." It was Guffy, the Redwall Dibbun.
Gurchen toddled over. She scratched the caveside where Guffy sat. "Burr aye, ee'm coorect, 'tis gurtly soily!"
Flib dug the broken knife in. It went easily, right up to the hilt. She chuckled happily.
"Good enough! This is where I starts diggin' the tunnel. Seein' as we can't fight our way out o' the front entrance, we'll dig our way outta the back!"
This news caused shouts of joy. Tura waved her paws frantically at the young ones.
"Hush! Be quiet all of ye, we don't want the vermin to know. Flib, we're all with ye, friend. Now, what can we do to help?"
The shrewmaid was in full charge; she began issuing her orders. "The two liddle moles kin 'elp me. Flandor, I want you to make a cover. Use moss, beddin', anythin' that we can disguise the hole with. Tura, get some o' the others to 'elp ye. When the soil comes out, it'll need spreadin' over the floor, so it ain't noticed."
Midda approached; she was hugging Borti, who was weeping softly for his mother. "Petunia ... sorry, I mean Flib, wot can I do to help ye?"
Flib smiled as she stroked little Borti's head. "Just keep the babe from cryin' for his ma. Much more o' that, an' I'll be weepin' meself!"
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Tassy the Redwall Dibbun smiled prettily at Flib. "Fank yoo for 'elpin' us all, nice shrew!"
Flib wiped a paw roughly across her eyes. "Don't thank me yet, darlin'. Not 'til we're outta this mouldy ole place."
Tura murmured to Flandor, "I don't think anybeast'd snitch to the vermin to get extra vittles, d'you?"
The young otter wagged his rudder. "Certainly not. Look at 'em--you can see hope in their eyes. Hope, at the chance o' freedom!"
Subaltern Meliton Gubthorpe Digglethwaite was consumed by a longing to be at Redwall Abbey as soon as possible. By that token, so were his travelling companions. Accordingly, they were all awake and on the march long before dawn. The prospect of breakfast at the Abbey lent a spring to their steps.
Young Auroria Witherspyk began singing--she was noted in the troupe for her sweet voice. It was not a particularly rousing marching song, but the beauty of it soon took effect. Everybeast felt lightpawed, dreamy almost, as the hogmaid's clear tones rose to the softly dawning day.
"When gentle dawn bedecks the land, through woodlands green I roam, where friendly trees stirred by the breeze, shed deep their leafy loam.
Small birds sing sweetly to the sky,
'Pray turn dark night to day'
By copse and hill, o'er brook and rill,
I wend my happy way.
"For there 'mid joyous scenes like these, a heart finds rest and ease.
"Where moss and fern and forest flow'rs, of every rainbow hue,
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play host to bee and butterfly
all bathed in early dew.
Whilst hawthorn, oak and sycamore in every quiet glade
do please the eye of passersby, with dappling sun and shade.
"For there 'mid joyous scenes like these, my heart finds rest and ease."
The last tremulous notes of the lovely melody had scarce died in the pale dawnlight when Diggs roared out, "There 'tis, there 'tis! Wot ho, chaps, Redwall Abbey! The very place, wot!"
He was pointing through a break in the trees at a dim, distant shape.
Log a Log Jango confirmed the sighting. "Aye, that's the Abbey rooftops ye can see. When we gets closer, ye'll see the belltower alongside it."
Old Crumfiss shook her greyspike head. "I doubt we'll be in time for brekkist. 'Tis too far off yet. These paws o' mine can't go any faster. Unless ye all want to run along an' I'll follow."
Oakheart Witherspyk would hear of no such thing. "We all go together, Mother dear, even if I have to carry you on my back!"
Buckler drew his long blade. "There's no need for that, Oakie. Here, you Guosim, let's see if we can't make a litter. Let's lop some good branches off that fallen hazel!"
The combined swords of Buckler and four shrews had soon hewed six useful branches. These were bound, two to either side, with the remaining two spaced crossways to form a stretcher. Oakheart volunteered his tattered cloak as a seat.
They pressed on, with Crumfiss perched comfortably. Diggs, Buckler, Oakheart and Jango, with the assistance of several stout Guosim, shouldered the old hogwife. Not
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missing an opportunity, Dymphnia passed the hogbabe Dubdub over to Crumfiss.
They bobbed along, with Dubdub repeating the end of his grandmother's sentences.
"My my, this is comfy!"
"Comfee comfee!"
"It'll rest my ole paws, indeed it will!"
"Deed 'twill, deed 'twill!"
The going was good, with other volunteers taking the bearers' places. They trotted at a fair rate. Buckler was striding along in the van when he discerned a figure upon the walls, which had grown much closer.
"Look, there's somebeast pacing the walltops yonder!"
Oakheart stood on tippaw, peering keenly. "Hah, 'pon me spikes, there's only one as tall as that at Redwall, as I recall. I'll hail him, eh?"
Being a member of the acting profession, Oakheart prided himself upon his vocal powers. He winked at Buckler. "Projection, sirrah--that's what 'tis all about!"
Drawing forth his funnel-shaped bark hailer, the portly troupe leader boomed majestically forth, "Ahoy, there! Is that a rascally riverdog a-beatin' the bounds? Somebeast name o' Skipper?"
When put to the test, the Otter Chieftain was no slouch at the bellowing game. Leaping up on a battlement, he waved vigorously and gave voice. "Haharrharr! Is that an ole pincushion rollin' this way? Why, salt me rudder, 'tis Oakie Witherspyk 'imself. I'll tell 'em to hold brekkist for ye!"
He vanished with a backward leap. Diggs waggled his ears admiringly at the hedgehog. "You have my thanks, sir. Anybeast who can delay breakfast 'til I jolly well get there is an absolute star amongst creatures, wot!"
Word had spread around the Abbey like wildfire: a travelling troupe, Guosim visitors and two strange hares. Skipper guarded the open north wall wickergate with
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good-natured banter for the press of Redwallers who had gathered there.
"Give 'em a chance to get in, mates. Move back there, Granvy. Here they come, now--stand back. Let the Abbess greet 'er guests!"
Abbess Marjoram took Oakheart's paws warmly, knowing it was not always wise to embrace large hedgehogs.
"May I be the first to welcome old friends, the Witherspyk troupe and our stout Guosim allies!"
Sweeping off his floppy hat, Oakheart bowed low. "Faith, ye can indeed, but let's not stand on ceremony. I'm still Oakie, if you're still Marjy!"
Dubdub piped up, "Still Marjy, still Marjy!"
Amidst the laughter which followed, the Abbess took the hogbabe from Crumfiss's lap. "Well, good morning, little nutnose--and what's your name?"
The infant pointed a chubby paw at himself. "I Dubdub!"
Log a Log Jango nodded to Skipper. "Sorry t'say this, mate, but we're here on business. Bad business--some of our young uns are missin'."
Abbess Marjoram left off tickling Dubdub. "Aye, we've got the same problem. Two of our Dibbuns ain't nowheres t'be found."
Marjoram waved her paws for silence. "Please, friends, the day is still young. There's time aplenty for bad news later. But for now let's all go to breakfast together, be introduced to those we haven't met and mayhaps hear a bit of good news. Follow me to the orchard--it's all set out there."
Picnic mats had been arranged on the grass, laden with food to suit every taste.
Diggs was almost incoherent at the sight. "I say! Burn me blinkin' scut an' rip me old auntie's pinnyfore! It's ... it's ... oh, corks!"
Skipper checked the tubby glutton from diving in head
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first. "Ahoy, young feller, let the Abbess say the grace afore ye start vittlin'."
Marjoram spoke quietly in the silence.
"All hail upon this summer morn, thrice welcome to ye all, who visit us in friendship here, good comrades of Redwall!"
Skipper chuckled. "That's what I like--short'n'sweet!"