What’s it all supposed to mean? Tis a very strange rhyme/’
Mokug helped himself to some candied chestnut cake. That’s the way to Brockhall, miss, the secret entrance. Ye could get in by that way without the serpents knowin’.
Malbun shuddered. I wouldn’t go inside that place for anything, knowin’
those dreadful creatures could be lurking in wait for me. Ugh! All those poison fangs an’ evil eyes!
Crikulus agreed with her. Nor me, 1 don’t care what we can add to our archives by going down into Brockhall!
Pouring himself some mint tea, the Abbot observed, One thing is clear, friends. Nobeast will be going down there until the message in the poem is solved. Shall we get down to it? Let us look at the first line: ÔMidday sun shines bright for you.’ Can anybeast explain what that’s supposed to mean?
Skipper pursed his lips thoughtfully. Sounds t’me like the midday sun is shinin’ for wotever beast is searchin’. But midday sun shines on us all, not just the searcher. Huh, it beats me.
But it’s not beaten me. Malbun put aside the hazelnut wafer she was nibbling. I think it means that the search must take place at midday.
The line is telling us exactly what time to go searchingÑnot dawn, or eventide, but midday.
Placing his paw on the second line, the Abbot agreed. I believe you’re right, friend. Tell me, then, what about this: Twixt leaning ash and poison gold’?
Crikulus snorted. Ash doesn’t lean. To me the word ash means a heap of black and grey dust from a fire. Right?
Nay, sir, it prob’ly means some ole ash tree.
Churk turned to Mokug, who had made the remark. That’s good plain thinkin’. You lived a long time in the woodlands, mate, d’ye know of such a tree, a leanin’ ash?
The golden hamster shrugged. I don’t know the names o’ trees, sorry, miss. Some of’em got different-shaped leaves an’ rough or smooth bark.
Big’uns an’ liddle’uns, they’re all the same to Mokug, just trees.
Friar Gooch began loading empty platters onto his trolley. Sure enough,’tis all a riddle. I wouldn’t even know where to begin findin’
out what’poison gold’ means.
Churk volunteered a suggestion. It looks like we’re stuck for answers.
Why don’t ye all go about yore business an’ leave me to try an’ sort it out.
Skipper had something to add. Aye, that’s good advice. I’ll go an’ get Log a Log an’ some o’ those Guosim shrews. We’ll take young Rumbol, too. Mokug, yore comin’ with us, mate. We’ll take a walk north, up the path. Per’aps if’n we point out some trees an’ tell ye their names, y’might recognise wot an ash tree looks like. We’ll stick to the path, just in case those adders are prowlin’ the woods.
33
A small flotilla wound its way upstream: the stolen craft and four shrew logboats. Mimsy and her husband Gulif, who were the unofficial leaders of the shrew party, sat in the prow of the little ship with Triss and Sagax. Scarum, who had become the model of politeness and decorum because of the amounts of food their hosts were feeding him, wandered up, munching on a honey and almond turnover.
Jolly decent types, these chaps. I say, marm, 1 hope we aren’t puttin’
you out of your way by havin’ you lead us to Redwall.
Mimsy peered ahead through the sunny green light created by overhanging trees. Bless ye, no, we was plannin’ on goin’ to the Abbey in the next day or two. I’ve got a feelin’ we should meet up with our Chieftain, Log a Log Groo. Him an’ some Guosim were sailin’ the streams not far from Redwall. They’d be sure to call in an’ visit awhile.
Triss sat back, savouring the pleasant morning on the rippling water with tree foliage as a canopy. This is nice. I could go along like this forever.
Gulif sat down beside her. I knows the feelin’, miss, but the ford that crosses the north path’ll be a-comin’ up soon. Won’t be usin’ the boats no more, thenÑwe’ll stow’em away an’ walk south down the path to Redwall.
The squirrelmaid trailed her paw in the cool streamwa-ter. Pity, I was really getting to enjoy the waterway.
Mimsy spoke up helpfully. Well, p’raps we could tie up just before the ford an’ take lunch there, whilst we wait for the backscouts to catch up.
Scarum interrupted. Beg pardon, marm, but what are backscouts?
Gulif pointed downstream, I sent four of’em to check on those vermin ye said were trailin’ ye. It ain’t good sense to leave things to chance.
Mimsy’s right, we’ll moor up short o’ the ford an’ wait for’em. Don’t suppose they’ll’ave much to report, I took all the twists an’ turns to shake any followers off’n our wake,
It was mid-afternoon by the time they moored the vessels beside a mossy bank. Kroova and Shogg hauled them into a small inlet and hid them beneath shrubbery and boughs.
Sagax watched the Guosim cooks prepare a meal. Is there any way we can lend a paw, marm?
Mimsy gave him a long, studious look. Wot’s up? Ain’t our cookin’ good enough for ye?
Scarum drew the young badger to one side and lectured him. My good chap, keep y’self to y’self, wot. We don’t want to antagonise these good creatures. So mind your manners!
Sagax pulled a meaningful face at Kroova. Listen to the pot calling the kettle black!
Triss amused the little shrews by singing them a song she had made up.
They sat tapping their paws as they listened to the jolly air.
Bushes and treetops drifting by,
Fish gliding’neath our keel,
Soft and gentle breezes sigh,
‘Tis like a dream made real.
Whirl and gurgle, eddy and flow,
Past carp and dace and bream,
Dragonflies, mayflies, swooping low,
As we sail upon the stream.
Cuckoos call out from the trees,
Bees bumble busily by,
Telling of golden days like these,
When the sun smiles from the sky.
Some will pole and others row,
Let each one do their best,
Let the waters flow by slow,
Put up your paws and rest.
Blue smoke wafted through the trees. Kroova and Shogg sat on the bankside, dabbling their paws in the shallows. Sagax and Gulif checked that the boats were well concealed. Scarum had wheedled his way into a new position. Mimsy and the Guosim cooks had actually appointed him to serve the meal. Triss covered her mouth, turning aside to stifle her merriment at the sight of him. Scarum had bound a turban about his ears to stop them from flopping into the food. Clad in a flowery apron, he wielded a ladle officiously.
Attention in the ranks, chaps, lunch is served. Line up here in a jolly orderly manner. No nonsense now, I’m your disher-upper, so watch your behaviour, wot!
When Triss had been served with a delicious bowl of something the shrews called Streambank Stew, she took her beaker of cider and a small batch loaf of shrewbread. She sat between Kroova and Shogg. All three giggled helplessly as they watched Scarum chiding Sagax.
Good grief, sah, look at those paws. Traid I can’t serve you until you’ve washed’em in the stream. Move along, please, don’t stand there glarin’
at me like that. Next!
It was in the midst of all this that Gulif suddenly held up his paws for silence.