The boxing hare spat on his paws and rubbed them. "Right, miz Woebee marm, step up 'ere. Yore the first!"
As soon as the rope end encircled her oversized waist, Woebee went into a wailing panic attack. "Oh oh, I'll never make it, I'm not goin', I'll slip an' fall, I know I will! No no no, I'm not goin', I'll stay here! Oh me, oh my, oooooounh!"
Torleep bristled at Stiffener. "I say, old chap, did I see you strike that lady? Bad form, sah, jolly bad form!"
Stiffener patted Torleep's chin, none too gently. "Now now, don't go off the deep end, ole feller, I didn't 'urt 'er, 'twas just a tap in the right place. 'Twas either that or leave 'er be'ind. You wouldn't like one, too, just to 'elp y'down an' save yore nerves, sah?"
Torleep assisted Stiffener and Sailears to lower Woebee's limp bulk down on the line, woffling away. "See what y'mean, sah, very good, slides down easy, don't she, wot! No bally need for that sort o' thing with me, y'know, don't mind heights at all, not one little bit. Paw over paw, wot, that's me, old chap, turn a bally squirrel green with envy, rappellin', abseilin', call it what y'will!"
A tug on the line told them Brog was ready for the next escaper. Things went smoothly for the next hour or so. Stiffener had got all the oldest ones down and half of the fitter ones when Torleep held up a paw of warning.
"Hist, it's those two beasts from down below, Ripthing an' his confounded brother!"
Stiffener froze. He could hear the voices. "That's torn it. They'll see them goin' by their window!"
Torleep listened more carefully. "Hang on, they ain't below, they're at the blinkin' door!"
Ripfang's voice could be heard clearly from beyond the door. "Oh, very good, Doomeye, wot a clever brother I got, eh? Steals the key off the guard cap'n an' now 'e can't even open the flamin' door wid it! Cummere, let me try!"
There followed a deal of poking, scratching and some very colorful language. Doomeye could be heard giggling-
"Heeheehee, yore good at this, ain'tcher? Now you've got three beads an' some damp fluffy ole blanket. Any more in there, Rip?"
"Look, shut yer stoopid gob an' gerron lookout, willya? The guard cap'n might come back at any time now. Yore the one who started this, you woggle-'eaded wipesnout!"
"Who, me? I never said a scringin' word!"
"Oh, didn't yew? Let's go an' 'ave a look at those longears, 'e says. Me'n'you'll pick out a nice fat 'un, 'e says. One of Karangool's cap'ns told me they're goin' to the cookin' pots tomorrer, that's wot you said, blither'ead!"
"Let me 'ave anudder go. I'll turn the key!"
Stiffener signaled the next candidate for the line. "Come on, mate, move. Next one right be'indwe can't afford to 'ang about anymore. Shift yore paws there!"
Bang! Thud!
"Ahoy in there, git this rubbish out the lock'ole, or it'll be worse for youse when we open this door!"
The banging of a spear butt against the heavy door timbers continued. Stiffener watched another hare disappear over the sill into the night, clinging tight to the rope. When he judged the hare was far enough down, he quietly called for the next one. A loud groan of frustration sounded from outside.
"Now lookit wot yer done, idiot, you've gone an' broke the key off in the lock, yew senseless rat!"
"Well, 'ow was I t'know it'd snap, rusty ole key? Never mind, Rip, we kin batter the door down, eh?"
There were only three hares left in the cell now. Stiffener guided the next one onto the rope. An argument between the two searats was in full flow.
"Batter the door down? 'Ave yew got mud fer brains? Wot 'appens when the door falls off its 'inges, eh? I'll tell yer wot, there'll be two of us wid a spear apiece facin' three score o' beasts, ye slimebrained toad!"
There followed a scuffling sound and the clacking of spear staves as the pair turned on one another. Stiffener winked at Torleep. "We did it, mate. Come on, out ye go!"
"Wot, oh, er, after you, old chap."
"Get a grip o' that rope, Torleep, no time now for bowin' an' scrapin'. Out!"
The boxing hare watched the taut rope anxiously, waiting for Torleep to get far enough down it to let him take his leave of the hated prison cell. In the passage outside, the altercation between the two searats continued.
"Owow! Yew bit me tail. Savage!"
"Well, you shouldn'ta called me a slimebrained toad. Fancy callin' yore own brother a name like that. Look wot you've done to me skull! Split it, see, that's blood that is!"
Stiffener vaulted onto the sill, took a firm grip of the taut line and began his descent, with the quarrel still going on.
"Split yer skull? That's only a scratchthere ain't no blood at all, just a liddle bump! Doomeye, come back, where are yer off to?"
Doomeye scuttled off down the passage. He turned at the stairhead and stuck his tongue out. "Snagglefang!"
Stung by the reference to his single tooth, Ripfang brandished his spear and chased after his brother. "Right, that's done it. There was no call fer that. I'll crack yore skull good'n'proper when I get yer!"
Willing paws guided Stiffener to the ground, then Brogalaw was hugging him fiercely. "Good to see your ole face again, mate!"
The boxing hare looked about at his friends. "Thanks for yore help, Brog. I kept my promise to Lord Stonepaw. There ain't a hare left on Salamandastron."
"Oh, 'tis so sad. Our home is nought but a vermin den now!" Woebee wept into her apron.
Stiffener put a paw about her shaking shoulders. "There there, don't take on so, marm, we'll be back, I promise you. Sorry I 'ad to knock you out like that. 'Ope it didn't 'urt too much, marm?"
The old harewife dried her eyes and sniffed. "You did the right thing, sah. I was bein' very silly, carryin' on like that. If I'd had enough sense I'd have hit me for such shockin' behavior! Oh, isn't it good that nice mister Brogalaw an' his otters helped us like this!"
The sea otter Skipper bowed gallantly. "Thankee, marm, but may'ap we could carry on this discussion elsewheres. It don't do to linger 'round 'ere. Durvy, take our friends t'the cave. Rulango, go with 'em t'see none get lost. Me an' the rest o' the crew will follow, wipin' out our trail. See ye back at the holt, Stiff."
With Durvy leading, Stiffener in the rear and the heron hovering overhead, the escaped prisoners scurried off toward the clifftops. Brogalaw and his crew began cutting bushy branches from the shrubbery growing out the rocks to erase the trail.
"Don't leave a pawprint showin' anywheres, mates, or those bluebottoms o' Trunn's will be payin' our holt a visit!"
One of the crew stirred the captured sentries with his paw. Bound and gagged tightly, they rolled their eyes fearfully.
"Wot do we do with these two beauties, Brog?"
Brogalaw gnawed his lip thoughtfully. "I know they're only vermin, but I ain't never slayed an 'elpless beast afore an' I'm not startin' now. Leave 'em tied up 'ere. The moment we're gone they'll start breakin' themselves loose. They can be Trunn's problemleastways that scum'll know he's not havin' things all 'is own way when they makes their report. Right, let's make a move, mates."
The Hordebeasts wriggled furiously with their bonds, once Brog's party had departed. But a sea otter knows his ropes. It would be some time before the prisoners could hope to be even slightly loose.
Chapter 26
Brog and his crew arrived back at the cave in broad daylight. It was a fine summer morn, with light breezes coming in from the sea. Stiffener and the hares had only just got there ahead of Brog's party. The trek along the cliffs, after climbing down from a mountaintop, had worn the older ones out, and Durvy had been forced to make a few rest stops along the way. Greetings and introductions were still being made as Brog entered the cave. He joined Stiffener and put a paw to his brow in mock despair.
"Seasons o'saltsea, Stiff mate, couldn't you 'ave left that ole Woebee creature be'ind? We got three of 'em blubbin' now!"
Brogalaw's mother Frutch and Blench the cook were being helped by Woebee to stir the chowder pot. All three were sobbing and sniffling gratefully for the hares' deliverance.