The Guosim cheered this news to the echo, Redwall was a great place to visit. Everybeast bustled to their chores. Maudie watched the process, sorting out in her mind what it all meant. She saw parents fastening small woven harnesses around the waists of their infants, and others packing equipment upon their backs. Rigril and Teagle had raced off, as soon as Luglug told them they would be in the scouting coracle. The rest, who were mainly sturdy looking males, followed the two scouts. Luglug explained what was happening.
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"That gang who've gone ahead are the portagers, miz. Guosim goes everywhere by logboats, rivers'n'streams, that's the way we travels. Ye see yon fir grove, we've stowed our logboats there. They've got t'be carried, portaged y'see, across t'the crookstream. A shrew needs strong paws an' a broad back to be a portager!"
Maudie saw Guosim, or at least the bottom halves of them, emerging from the grove. The shrews were carrying six fine, long logboats. She chuckled at the sight. It looked like upside down vessels, each with many pairs of legs, tramping away into the woodlands. Luglug did not appear amused.
"There's nought funny about portagin', missy, 'tis a fair ole trek afore we reaches the crookstream an' ripples. We'd best take the lead, c'mon."
Maudie hurried to catch up with the bristly little Log a Log. "I know there's nothin' funny about havin' to carry the jolly old boats, wot. But it looks rather comical, don't it? I say, those portagin' chaps mustn't be able t'see a bally thing, how do they know which way to go, wot?"
The Guosim chieftain explained. "That's why we'll be walkin' in front o' the first logboat. The front shrew will follow our footpaws. The next beast follows his, an' so on. When yore portagin' all ye can see is the ground 'neath yoreself, an' the footpaws o' the one in front of ye."
Having reached the lead position with Luglug, the haremaid looked back. Behind her was a well-ordered procession, the line of logboats, followed by Guosim porters, carrying bundles of camping equipment. To the rear of the porters came the little ones. Each was tethered to their family members by a harness and a lead rope. Bringing up the tail end of the column came a score of young warriors, each with drawn rapier, eager and willing to prove themselves in the event of an attack. Maudie concluded that though Guosim shrews were noisy and argumentative, they could be very well ordered, when each had a specific task to perform.
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The logboat carriers struck up a sort of marching shanty, to keep their footpaws in time with each other.
"We ain't no sailors on the sea, in ships decked out with sails, there ain't no call for cap'n, mate or bosun, but we knows more o' paddlin' boats, on river, pond or stream, than anybeast wot ever sailed the ocean!
"Gimme a good ole logboat, that's the craft to keep me fit, when a logboat ain't carryin' a Guosim, well, the Guosim's carryin' it!
"I bet there's no saltwater beast, a-headed back to home, who's reached the land an' heard his cap'n order,
'All paws on shore now lift this ship, an' carry it on yore 'eads, it looks t'me like we've run out o' water!'
"Gimme a good ole logboat, that's the craft to keep me fit, when a logboat ain't carryin' a Guosim, well, the Guosim's carryin' it!"
Twilight was already covering the woodlands when they reached their destination. The place Guosim called the crookstream and ripples looked peaceful enough to Maudie. She organised supper as the shrews tethered their logboats to the bank, loading them, so they would be ready to move on the morrow. A foraging party brought in some button mushrooms, scallions and early acorns, which Maudie used as a filling for the pasties she was making.
Luglug commented as they sat beneath the bankside willows, "I tell ye, Miss Maudie, I ain't never tasted pasties as
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nice as these in all me seasons. Er, how would ye like to become a Guosim cook? The job's yores if'n ye want it. In fact, I'll make ye Grand Guosim Chef, an' give ye a staff of helpers. Wot d'ye say?"
The haremaid shook her head. "Sorry, 'fraid not, sah, I'm a Salamandastron hare of the Long Patrol. Couldn't imagine m'self balancin' a whoppin' great logboat between my ears, an' singin' portagin' songs. Besides, I've got a jolly old mission to complete. Couldn't very well do that an' toddle off t'be a blinkin' Guosim chef to boot, wot!"
Luglug looked crestfallen, but he made no further mention of the subject.
Maudie was wakened at the crack of dawn next morning. Still yawning, she was thrust into the prow end of the lead logboat, alongside a young shrew named Osbil. The vessel lurched off from the bank, powered by fourteen Guosim, all paddling energetically. The haremaid nodded to her companion. "G'morning, I say, aren't we supposed t'be paddlin', or something like that, wot?"
Osbil replied, without taking his eyes off the stream ahead, "Have ye ever paddled a logboat afore, marm, do ye own yore own paddle?"
Maudie shook her head. "First time I've been in a bloomin' boat, old lad, jolly good, isn't it, 'fraid I don't have a perishin' paddle. S'pose I might borrow yours, wot?"
Osbil continued peering upstream. "Huh, s'pose ye might not borrow my paddle, marm, nobeast in this tribe touches another 'un's paddle, faint done. If'n it's the first time ye've been in a logboat, then ye'd be hopeless as a paddlebeast. Takes at least four seasons f train a Guosim paddler. Them's our rules, marm!"
The haremaid sniffed. "Oh, golly gracious now, can't have me breakin' the flippin' rules, can we. But why aren't you paddlin'?"
Osbil answered without looking at her. "'Cos I'm first
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prowspot, got t'keep me glims on the course ahead, especially as this is the lead logboat."
Maudie gestured upstream. "Well, don't let me stop you, old chap, you keep your eye ... glims peeled, if that's a prowspotter's job. Er, pardon me askin', but what's my purpose aboard this jolly old logboat, wot?"
Osbil winked, and gave Maudie a swift grin. "Prowspot-ter's mate's supposed to sing, so the paddlers can keep in stroke. Just like when yore marchin'."
The sun broke through the foliage which formed a canopy over the crookstream, causing a lacy effect of light and shadow. Dragonflies hovered on the reed-fringed banks, watching the logboat flotilla as it passed by. Crookstream was aptly named, it was a real switchback, with more twists and turns than a corkscrew. Looking back, Maudie marvelled at the skill of the Guosim paddlers. She could see Luglug, standing in the stern of the last logboat, enveloped in a rainbow of spray. As they pushed upstream against the playful, gurgling waters, Maudie broke out into an old Long Patrol barrack-room song, hardly a march, she thought, but quite a good tune. The haremaid had a strong voice, which rang out loud and clear.
"Oh, soldier, I'm askin' ye, where would ye like to be, all on a winter's day?
As onward you push, through the snow-driven slush, on your cold an' weary way, with dew on your nose an' your ears solid froze, an' ice from scut to eyes.
Tell me, tell me, give me a big surprise!
"March on! Left, right! One, two an' a-three!
At last I've found an officer, who's like a mother to me!
"Oh, Sergeant Maclain, I don't wish to complain, it ain't like me to moan, but on this winter day, I'd just love you to say,
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that I should've stayed at home, with a mug of hot soup, an' me ears all a-droop, in an armchair by the fire,
O Sergeant, Sergeant, that's my heart's desire!
"Eyes front! Ears up! Whiskers stiff'n'straight!
one more word from you y'wretch, an' yore through the guardhouse gate!"
The Guosim laughed aloud. Like anybeast who had to obey rules and orders, they appreciated the sentiment of Maudie's song. One bold, young shrew even shouted out, "Yore Sergeant sounds just like our Log a Log, miss!"
He was silenced by Luglug's stern voice from the rear. "Aye, an' one more word from you, mate, an' ye can get out an' push. Now dig those paddles deep!"
As they progressed further upstream, the shrewbabes began to get restless and disobedient. Two of them even leapt into the stream. They were hauled in immediately, and scolded by their family members.