"Wastin' their time. No birds or eggs out therewe killed off the seabirds out at sea, afore we got here, an' the rest flew off. I still don't see where all the vittles will come from."
"Oh, they'll find somethin' sooner or later, I s'pose. Bet we get sent with our troops on an inland forage. Meanwhile, it ain't too bad for the likes of uswe get to live off'n the stripedog's larders for a while. Good vittles, eh?"
"Aye, that they are. Come on, we'd better get downstairs. The Mighty One's still carryin' on about the stripedog an' his followers hidin' in the cellar caves. I'd hate t'be them when they're captured. You know what Trunn's likethey'll die long'n'slow."
"I 'eard the Mighty One's starvin' this lot up above so that sooner or later one of 'em'll break an' tell where the stripedog's hid 'imself."
"I've 'eard that, too, but suppose they don't tell an' he finds the stripedog an' those others? What d'you think he'll do with this lot in the cell above?"
"Oh, they won't be no use anymore. Long'n'slow, that'll be their fate, long'n'slow . .."
In the cell above, every hare had heard the conversation. When the captains had gone, there was a deadly silence among the prisoners. Woebee could not prevent a sob escaping her lips.
Torleep patted her ears. "Don't fret, marm, they won't catch Lord Stonepaw. He's a lot cleverer than those rotten vermin give him credit for."
Sailears stared out of the high window longingly. "I just wish there was somethin' we could jolly well do to escape this place. Nothin' worse than sittin' 'round just waitin', wot!"
Captains Mirefleck and Roag were passing the wildcat's chamber when the door opened and Ungatt Trunn emerged with Fragorl at his heels. Both captains halted and saluted smartly.
Their leader nodded. "Ah, I was just about to send for you. Listen now, I want you to take your troopsall your troopsdown to the bottom caves. Flood those caves and passages with Hordebeasts. Show those other idiots down there how to snare an old stripedog and a few hares. I want them taken at any cost. Don't fail me!"
Mirefleck and Roag saluted stiffly and marched off, shouting orders to their column leaders. Ungatt Trunn addressed the silent Fragorl.
"I've got a small task for you, too. Take whom you like and find me some new spiders. There must be lots in this cave-riddled mountain and the rocks outside. Bring them to me in the stripedog's chamberthey can build webs there and redecorate it for me. Treat them carefully when you find them."
"I live only to serve your word, Mightiness!" The Grand Fragorl glided soundlessly off.
Old Bramwil was blinking drowsily by the time they had pieced together the skipping rhyme. Stonepaw was tired, too. He stifled a yawn. "Well, I hope we haven't forgotten anything. Read it out, Blench."
The cook read aloud from her neat lines of script, soon picking up the skiprope chant, which little hares had called out long ago as they held their smocks and skipped.
"Down in the cellars where nobeast goes,
Littlebob Hare went runnin',
He ran an' ran an' followed his nose,
Where rocks never let the sun in.
He got very tired an' sat by a pool,
Then found out to his cost, sir,
That he was nought but a silly fool,
Who'd gotten himself lost there.
'Oh woe is me,' cried Littlebob,
"Tis dark an' so unsightly,
I must find some way out o' here,
To where the sun shines brightly.'
So he climbed up to the coiling snake,
All damp an' slippy-feeling,
An' found beyond the big plum cake,
A hole right through the ceiling.
He went up through an' chased the blue,
An' made it home for tea, sir,
He beat the tide an' spinies, too,
But his mamma tanned his tailfur!"
In the silence which followed, Stonepaw turned to his hares. "Well, let's see if we can make it home for tea, friendsor out of here at least!"
Trobee scratched between his ears. "Beg pardon, sah, but are you sure you got it right?"
"As far as I can recall we did, right, Bramwil?"
The ancient hare did not reply to the Badger Lord; he had drifted off to sleep. Blench gave her opinion. "H'it looks fine t'me, sire. Most of it's just a leverets' story, 'bout a liddle feller gettin' hisself lost down 'ere. 'Tis the last eight lines is wot we want, from that bit about the coilin' snake. Right?"
Trobee was still a bit bewildered by it all. "Where in the name o' salad do we find a climbin' snake, wot?"
A hare called Willip corrected him. "Not a climbin' snake, 'twas a coilin' snake. It says Littlebob climbed up to it. Up there!" She pointed up at the cave ceiling.
Like stargazers, the badger and his hares wandered about the cavern, heads thrown back, staring at the stalactite formations.
"Oops, got a drop o' water in me eye!"
"Watch where y'going, old chap. Go an' bump into some otherbeastyou've near knocked me over twice now, wot!"
"Stop right where y'are, Trobee, or you'll walk straight into that pool!"
"Oh, I say, haha, one of those thingies hangin' down looks just like old Purlow with a great long nose. Hahaha!"
"Huh! Well, at least I've got a decent nose, not like that apple pip stuck on the end of your muzzle. Tchah!"
"Ahaaah! There 'tis, I see it! There 'tis! . . ." Splash!
The Badger Lord's huge paws scooped a dripping Trobee up from the pool. "Where? Point it out, quickly!"
Dancing to and fro, shaking freezing water from his fur, Trobee tried to resight the coiling snake.
"Er ... er ... where was I? Oh, confound it, I've lost the bloomin' thing now. Dearie me, there's only one thing for it. Get ready to fish me out again, sah. Here goes ..."
Trobee flung himself in the air, and an instant before he hit the pool his paw shot out. "There!"
Stonepaw marked the spot in a flash. Unable to stop himself laughing, he hauled Trobee out of the water again. "Hohoho! Good old Trobee. Not only impressions of a bird an' a fish, but you did find it, over there in the far corner! Don't check it again, though. That pool looks to me as if it might go down forever, and I might not manage to catch you next time!"
Bramwil doddered forward, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Not like you t'be takin' a bath before summer, Trobee. What's goin' on here, sah?"
Above the rock ledges in the cavern's dark-shadowed corner the stalactite hung, formed by water dripping for countless ages and leaving minuscule limestone deposits which added gradually to its length. At some point in time the water took a different course, threading its way around the main column and forming into a type of embossed spiral winding about the stalactite: an unmistakable representation of a coiling snake.
Stiffener, being the most agile, was brought in from sentry duty and replaced by Pur low. The boxing hare weighed up the route, shaking his head doubtfully.
"Those ledges look much too slippery for our hares t'climb, sah. Did we bring any rope with us?"
Stonepaw looked crestfallen. "We haven't any rope at all."
"Then use bowstrings'n'belts, you puddens!" Old Bramwil waved an apologetic paw. "Didn't mean t'call you a pudden, sah. Beg y'pardon."
The Badger Lord chuckled. "You can call me what you like as long as you come up with ideas like that, my old friend. Belts'n'bowstrings, eh? Right!"
Cord girdles, woven belts and tough bowstrings were soon lashed together into an awkward but serviceable rope. Stiffener coiled it about his shoulders, spat on his paws and clambered onto the first ledge. It was worn smooth, wet and slick with trickling water.
Willip scraped up a bit of damp sand from the stones at the pool edge, molded it into a ball and tossed it up to Stiffener. "Here, catch! Rub this on your paws'twill help."
The grit did the trick. Up Stiffener went, clinging like a fly to the slippery rock ledges, with his friends below calling out advice to him.
"Pin y'self flat against the wall an' reach up for that bit stickin' out above."