"Give it the neckwhip, Jurkin, you've got 'im!"
Jurkin twisted his neck suddenly, but Tagg went with it, turning a somersault and landing upright. He saw the surprise on Jurkin's face as he carried on the maneuver by throwing another somersault in the same direction. Unable to halt his momentum, the hedgehog flew into the air, landing with a heavy thud on the ground. Belying his hefty bulk, he leaped up, and Tagg did it again, somersaulting so that his opponent was immediately floored once more. He repeated the move every time Jurkin rose. Six times the hedgehog hit the floor, then he tried to rise and fell back, panting hoarsely. Tagg leaned over Jurkin, holding him down, grinning into his face.
"Good game, eh? Want to try some more, spikedog?"
Jurkin held his paws up submissively. "Ye've cracked every spike on me back, y'great riverwhomper!"
Releasing Jurkin's spikes, Tagg helped him up. He grasped the hedgehog's paw and shook it firmly, announcing aloud, "I've never tangled with a beast so powerful in all my life. Good job you never got up again, mate, or you'd have licked me!"
Jurkin held Tagg's paw up, calling to all his crew, "This is my matey Tagg. Anybeast wants to fight with 'im 'as got t'fight with me too. Loll, bring more pancakes, will ye!"
Robald shook his head as he watched the pair scoffing pancakes and swigging greensap milk like brothers. "I'm afraid it's all a bit beyond me, Nimbalo. Just look at them. Only a moment ago I thought they were trying to kill each other."
The harvest mouse shook his head admiringly. "Aye, my mate Tagg's like nobeast ye've ever met!"
Tagg told Jurkin his story. The hedgehog demolished a pancake as he listened, then he grunted approvingly. "So, yore trackin' these three vermin, Tagg? They're 'eaded downstream an' into Mossflower Wood, y'know. That's the way they went when we sent 'em packin'!"
Tagg rose from the table, licking honey from his paws. "Downstream into Mossflower, eh? Then I'm bound to go after them, friend. Goodbye, 'twas nice meeting you!"
Jurkin rose from the table with him. "Then ye'll be sailin' with the Dillypins, you an' the mousey. We're goin' that way too, so save the wear on yore paws, matey. Now I ain't takin' no fer an answer: you sail with us as far as we can track 'em afore they goes off inter the woodlands!"
Before they left, Nimbalo took issue with Robald and Great-Aunt Lollery, whom he had grown fond of. "Now lissen, Robald me ole pincushion, never you mind livin' out on the flatlands alone an' 'avin' this good 'ogwife runnin' after ye ten times a season with vittles. Yore Aunt Lollery ain't gettin' any younger, an' you should be livin' 'ere with 'er. If'n I 'ad a Great-Aunt Lollery, I wouldn't leave 'er defenseless on 'er own, I'd keep 'er comp'ny an' take better care of 'er!"
Robald stood looking shamefaced. "Now you come to point it out, friend Nimbalo, I have been a touch selfish. You're right, of course. I'll stay here with my kind nurse, if she'll have a fat lonely hermit, that is."
Lollery fidgeted with her spotless apron and sniffed. "Oh, go on with you, Master Robald. I promised your mama I'd look after you. Goodness knows 'tis a trek out onto those flatlands, carryin' great baskets o' vittles to ye. You're welcome to stay with me forever. Sometimes a body gets so lonely in this liddle cottage that even the Dillypins are a welcome sight!"
That evening the sprawling raft took off into midstream, loaded with Dillypin hedgehogs of all shapes, ages and sizes. Tagg sat on the tiller rail with Nimbalo and Jurkin, holding several ropes apiece. These were attached to hogbabes, to stop them from falling in the water as they wrestled and played all over the broad deck. At the raft's center was a construction, part hut, part tent, complete with chimney, oven and galley fire, though there would be no cooking done that night, due to the fact that Great-Aunt Lollery had provisioned them out with all manner of excellent food: cheeses, breads, puddings, cakes, drinks, and extra supplies of her renowned pancakes, which were marvelous, hot or cold. Robald and his nurse waved them off from the bank as the peculiar vessel caught the midstream current and sailed off.
"Goodbye, friend Tagg, pleasant sailing, friend Nimbalo, thank you for all your help. I'd still be stuck in a ball of mud if you hadn't chanced along. Take care of yourselves!"
"Goodbye, Mr. Nimbalo, Mr. Tagg; goodbye, Dillypins!" The hedgehogs lined the deck, singing their farewell.
"Off down the streams away we go,
Where we'll land up I don't know,
With good ole grub an' lots o' drink,
We'll sail along until we sink.
Sink! Sink! Sink!
We're Dillypins an' we don't care,
As long as sky an' wind is fair,
An' when we spot the foe we say,
Yore just a good stonethrow away.
Way! Way! Way!
Weigh anchor mates we're outward bound,
But we'll be back next time around,
O'er swirlin' stream an' rushin' foam,
To eat you out o' house an' home.
Home! Home! Home!"
Lulled by the watersounds and late-evening sunrays flickering scarlet through drooping treetops, Tagg lay down on a woven deckmat. The little hogs had been hauled in by their mothers for supper and bed, and apart from the first nocturnal birdsong echoing from the dense woodlands things were fairly quiet. Jurkin held the tiller steady. He watched Nimbalo's head starting to nod and Tagg's eyelids growing heavy.
"Best get yore 'eads down, mates; it's been a long day for ye. Go on, sleep. I'll keep this ole scow on course an' watch for signs of the vermin."
Tagg allowed his eyes to close as he answered, "Thankee, mate. I'll wake around midnight and take a turn on the tiller, then you can catch a nap too!"
Nimbalo curled up close to Tagg's footpaws, yawning cavernously. "Ah, this is the life! Wake me next season, but do it gently, an' I'd like some 'ot pancakes an' dannylion tea when y'do. Yowch! Keep that footpaw still, ye great ruffian, or I'll sling yer in the water!"
Jurkin chuckled at the idea. "Savage liddle beast, ain't 'e?"
Nimbalo opened one eye and growled, "One more word out o' you, needlebritches, an' you'll find out why they calls me Nimbalo the Slayer!"
Once more Tagg's dreams were a kaleidoscope of red warriors, vermin faces and inexplicable events. He was running through deep woodlands, trying to catch up with the elusive figure of the mouse warrior, calling out after him, "Deyna, stop, wait for me!"
Amid the trees, the mouse turned, waving his wondrous sword. He called back things Tagg could not understand. There was a look of urgency on the armored mouse's face. Tagg felt a sudden kinship with him, a desire to go with him, to help with whatever needed to be done. Then Vallug appeared, a murderous snarl on his face as he fired an arrow from his bow. It was too late to dodge the shaft, but Tagg thrust out a paw to protect himself. He roared with pain as the arrow pierced his paw.
"Be still, ye great daft lump. Look wot you've gone an' done to yoreself. 'Old 'im still, Jurkin!"
Tagg woke to find the hedgehog pinning him flat, whilst Nimbalo tugged at his paw.
"Pass me that blade, mate, that'll get it out!"
Tagg looked up at Jurkin. "Wh-what happened?"
Shaking his head, the big rough hedgehog relieved the otter of his knife and gave it to Nimbalo.
"Wot 'appened? You tell me, matey. I think you was 'avin' a nightmare. Kickin' an' roarin' away like a madbeast. Pore ole Nimbalo 'ere was near knocked overboard, then you turns over facedown an' slams yore paw right onto a big deck splinter."
Tagg flinched as the harvest mouse released his paw and held a long pine splinter in front of his eyes.
"Lookit that. Size of a blinkin' cob o' firewood!"
Jurkin fetched a herbal paste, cleaned Tagg's paw and put a light softbark dressing on it, talking as he worked.
"Aye, that must've been some kind o' dream, Tagg. Can you remember wot it was about?"