He recovered himself and grinned from ear to ear. Ph-wooooh! Now that’s wot I calls prime good pepper!
Scarum accepted another bowl of the stew, ignoring the boxes of pepper.
He remarked cuttingly to Slippo, These confounded seadogs, got no respect for their blinkin’ stomachs, wot wot?
Slippo raised his head from his bowl. Wharuumph bu-loooh!
The hare nodded drily. Couldn’t agree with y’more, old lad!
Waves could be heard from afar, booming against the rocks, with a strong wind driving them. Inside, the cave was snug and secure. Raura served the friends some of her special crusty plum slice and a small beaker of old elderberry cordial. They sat enjoying the flickering fireglow whilst Kroova told them of their journey, where they had come from and the destination they were bound for, Red-wall Abbey.
Raura took down a little harp and passed it to Slippo. Redwall Abbey, eh, I’ve’eard tell of it, but I never got that far inland. Tis said to be a wondrous place fer sure. But you young’uns must be tiredÑlie down an’ sleep now. Slippo, play us somethin’, maybe I’ll sing. I ain’t sung fer a while. I’ve fergotten most o’ me songs, but I can recall this one,’tis a nice ole ballad.
Stretching out gratefully on the covered ledges, the travelers closed their eyes and listened to the otterwife’s song.
’Tis a far cry from home for a poor lonely thing, O’er the deeps and wild waters of seas,
Where you can’t hear your dear mother’s voice softly sing Like a breeze gently stirring the trees.
Come home, little one, wander back here someday I’ll watch for you, each evening and morn, Through all the long season’til I’m old and grey As the frost on the hedges at dawn.
There’s a lantern that shines in my window at night, I have long kept it burning for you, It glows through the dark, like a clear guiding light, And I know someday you’ll see it, too.
So hasten back, little one, or I will soon be gone, No more to see your dear face, But I know that I’ll feel your tears fall one by one, On the flowers o’er my resting place.
Raura and Slippo crept quietly out to check up on the vessels. Sagax and Scarum wept brokenheartedly, moved by the old otterwife’s sentimental song. Then Kroova could not resist joining them. Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled out over his cheeks, wetting the cushions.
I never knew me mum, but I’ll bet she was jus’ like the one in Raura’s song, a dear grey-’aired old thing. Waaaah!
Scarum rubbed at his eyes with both paws. Boohoohoo!
My old ma will be standin’ at the cottage door with a jolly brave smile on her face, hidin’ the blinkin’ tears, I know she will. Boohoohoo!
Sagax sat up, sniffing and wiping at his eyes. Waaha-haaa! But you don’t live in a dear old cottage, you live in a whacking great mountain, just like me. Waahaaah!
The hare used his long ears to mop at his eyes. Jolly nice thought, though, ain’t it. Boohoohoo!
Raura and Slippo sat outside until the otterwife was sure her young guests had cried themselves to sleep. She listened awhile, then nodded.
There, y’see, Slippo, me ole mate, that’ll teach’em a lesson!
The grey seal threw back his head and honked mournfully. Kuhoo umhoon kahooka, mowwwwwwwww!
Raura sniffed in agreement with Slippo. Aye, that’s the young’uns of these seasons for ye. Runnin’ off from’ome widout a second thought for their parents. Now me, I never’ad young’uns, but if’n I’ad, well, I wager they wouldn’t go skippin’ off an’ leavin’ me, eh?
Slippo smiled from ear to ear. Kuurhaaam oooh ko-honkahhh!
The sea otterwife smiled back at her friend. Yore right, mate, I would bring’em back an’ skelp the tails offen em. Come on, let’s go in an’
get some shuteye.
Breakfast next morning was an uncomfortable affair, with the three travellers avoiding their host’s accusing gaze. Raura commented drily, I’ve filled up yore bags with vit-tles for the trip.
Scarum kept his eyes fixed on the meal. Terribly decent of ye, marm, a thousand thanks from us.
She busied herself raking ashes from the fire. No need t’thank me, I’d do as much fer anybeast. Weather’s cleared up out there,’tis a prime day. There’s plenty o’ vittles to get ye back’ome, if’n youse was thinkin’ to sail that way. The goin’ is easier, too, if’n ye travel south.
Kroova rose, dusting crumbs from his paws. If’tis all the same with you, marm, we was figurin’ on goin’ to find Redwall Abbey,’cos that’s where we’re bound.
Raura passed her little harp to Slippo, smiling at them in a fond, motherly way. There’s no great rush t’get to Red-wall, as I sees it.
Why don’t ye stop until lunch? I’ll make us a nice apple an’ whortleberry pudden an’ sing ye a few old songs. I’ve remembered a few my ma used t’sing. There’s one called ÔA Mother’s’Eart Is Made o’ Gold/ aye, an’
another ditty called T’d Give the World fer a Slice o’ Mamma’s Nutbread.’
Then there’s the one about a mother’s tear bein’ like a pearl o’ grief...
Sagax grabbed the foodpacks. All three travelers were closely jammed as they fought to get through the cave doorway. No, thankee, marm, you’ve done quite enough for us!
Aye, we’ll miss the tide if we don’t go now, we wouldn’t dream of imposing on your hospitality any further, marm!
Sorry we’ve got to jolly well go, marm, er, toodle pip an’ all that, wot. Bye bye now, got to tear ourselves away!
Piling hastily into the Stopdog, they sailed off down the narrow rocky passage, fending off the stony walls with their oars. Only when the bright morning and the open sea lay before them did they chance to look back. Raura was standing on top of the rocks, singing at the top of her voice as Slippo twanged the harp for her.
Though she is wrinkled, grey and old, A mother’s heart is made of gold, And her smile is like a quiet sunny day, So hearken to my lonely song, Don’t stay away from home too long, There’s nothing crueller than a runaway.
A tear was springing to Kroova’s eye as he put on all sail and passed around chunks of laverbread. Stuff this in yore ears, shipmates, afore we ends up blubberin’ an’ puttin’ about to sail’ome!
By early noon the Stopdog was well out at sea, with the coastline a mere smudge of dark strip on the horizon. Sagax and Scarum were sitting atop the bow seat, their happy, carefree mood now restored.
Haha, imagine us wailing like babes just because we’re taking a short holiday from Salamandastron!
Rather! Did you see old Kroova? He was cryin’ buckets, an’ the silly great seadog hasn’t even got a home t’go to, wot. Look at him, sittin’
there fast asleep at the tiller, snorin’ like a toad with a toothache.
Hawhawhaw!
Scarum rolled a pellet of laverbread and flicked it at the sea otter.
It pinged him neatly on the nose. Kroova wakened with a start and blinked at them.
Ho, very funny, mateys, pingin’ me nose an’ wettin’ me footpaws, aye.
Very funny, I must say!
Scarum flicked another pellet and missed. Bit of an unjust accusation there, old lad. I pinged your nose, but neither of us wet your flippin’
footpaws, wot!
Kroova diverted his gaze to the water slopping round in the bottom of the ketch. Dismay crept across his features. Must’ve banged’er prow a bit’ard on those rocks when we came down the channel from Raura’s cave.