About midafternoon Soil changed course slightly, veering off into an area where the trees were less thick, and small clearings and rocks dotted the land.
"I 'opes you don't mind, my dearies, but I got a liddle visitin' t'do. 'Twon't take up much of yore time."
Dippler sniffed the air appreciatively. "Ooh, lovely, scones! Somebeast's bakin' scones, I can smell 'em."
Sure enough, a wonderful aroma of fresh-baked scones hovered elusively on the hot afternoon air. Soil halted and called out in a gentle singsong tone,
"Goodwife Brimm, are you at 'ome?
If'n you are 'tis only me,
Now you won't sit all alone,
'Cos I've brought some friends to tea!"
A voice, old and cracked through long seasons, answered him.
"If'n that's who I think it be,
Wot a din yore makin',
Seems to me I only see,
Yore face when I'm bakin'!"
Laughing uproariously, Soli hitched the Swallow farther up on his shoulders and broke into a lumbering run, with the four travelers trotting in his wake.
Goodwife Brimm was a small, thin otter, incredibly old; her fur had turned a beautiful silver-white. Song had never seen an old otterwife dressed so charmingly, from her poke bonnet and puff-sleeved gown to the flowery pinafore with dainty lace edging. The goodwife's home was properly built from baked clay and mud bricks, walling in a flat almost square rock spur, which formed the roof. White limestones separated her vegetable and herb garden from a blossoming flower patch. The old otter left off gathering rows of scones from a window-ledge, where they had been cooling, and hobbled forward to greet her friend. Soil and Goody Brimm hugged and kissed fondly.
"My ole Goody Goody, prettiest otter an' best cook anywheres!"
"Soli, you big flatterer, yore singin' ain't improved none!"
"So it 'asn't, marm, but I got one 'ere can outsing larks!"
Soil introduced them, while Goody Brimm kissed their cheeks and squeezed their paws right heartily for one so frail-looking. "Fortune smile on 'em, ain't they so young an' beautiful, Soil? My my, swords'n'slings'n'rapiers! Proper young warriors all. Come in and sit, I was about t'put the kettle on!"
Inside was the neatest, tidiest house they had ever seen. A brightly hued rush mat covered the floor from wall to wall, pottery ornaments graced the highly polished dresser, there were even embroidered linen headrests on the chairbacks. Goody Brimm put a sizable copper kettle over the fire to boil, then, rolling mint leaves and dried burnet rose hips almost to powder with a long round stone, she tossed them in a fat blue teapot. Tea at Goody Brimm's house was very special. The travelers helped themselves to almond wafers and scones, spread with every kind of preserve from blackcurrant jelly to gooseberry and damson jam.
Soli hauled two bags from his pack. "Brought you some grapes'n'almonds. Good crop this year."
They explained their mission to the otterwife, who listened, sipping her tea and nodding, while encouraging them to eat more. When they had finished their tale, the old goodwife spoke. "The stream flows well not far from here. Soil will have you there by eventide, so don't gollop yore food an' rush off, now. Lackaday, young 'uns are always in a hurry. Slow down, 'tis better for you. Now then, pretty miss, with a name like your'n I think you should carry a nice tune. Do ye know one called 'Mother Nature Dear'? 'Tis a great favorite of mine."
Song answered without hesitation. "Aye, I know it well, marm, my grandma Ellayo taught it to me. 'Twas a long time ago, but I recall every word."
Goody chuckled and winked at Soil. "A long time ago, eh? Like as not two seasons back. When yore old as me, then y'can talk about long times, my beauty. Come, sing for me."
Song began tapping her footpaw, and they all tapped along with her until the rhythm was just right to start singing.
"Who taught the birds to sing?
Why Mother Nature dear.
Who told the winds an' breeze to blow,
Rain to fall an' snow to snow,
Rivers to run an' streams to flow?
Oh Mother Nature dear!
Who colored grass so green?
Why Mother Nature dear.
Who tells the moon, come out at night,
And teaches stars to shine so bright,
Then orders sun and clear daylight?
Oh Mother Nature dear!
Who makes the seaons change?
Why Mother Nature dear.
Who says the seas must ebb and flow,
An' tells each tree how tall to grow,
Then lets the days pass fast or slow?
Oh Mother Nature dear,
I see her plain an' clear,
She's all around us here!"
Song held the final note, letting it rise, holding it a touch longer, then ending with a double tap of her foot-paws. Goody Brimm was smiling, yet she wiped her eyes with a small kerchief. "I never 'eard that tune sung so sweet in all me days. 'Twas a rare treat jus' to sit'n'lissen to yore voice, young missie!"
Soil rose reluctantly. "That's true, m'dear, but these young 'uns got a ways to go afore nightfall. We best leave now if'n we want to make it to the stream by twilight. So we'll be biddin' ye goodbye."
Goody Brimm hastily started wrapping scones for them. "Goodbye nothin'! I'll walk with ye as far as the stream. A stretch of the ole pawsll do me good!"
Afternoon shadows were growing long as they strode through the woodland in double file, chatting away animatedly. Dann watched the old otter, leaning for support on Soil's sturdy paw, both solitary creatures united for a short time. Song already had an idea of what Dann was going to say to her, but she let him speak his thoughts as they walked together.
"I can't help feelin' sorry for Soil an' Goody. You can tell they lead a lonely life, by the way they love company an' want us to stay an' visit longer. I think they'd be far better off livin' at Redwall Abbey. There'd be lots o' new friends there, an' things t'do. I bet they'd soon forget their loneliness at the Abbey."
Song had already pondered this idea. "Ah, but you must remember, Dann, they're solitary creatures by choice. I'll grant you that they like visitors, but if they were to live at the Abbey, perhaps they wouldn't be able to get used to constant company and living night and day without the solitude they've come to love so well. Besides, Soil and Goody are old and set in their ways. I don't think they'd take so easily to a new life."
Goody Brimm turned and winked at Song. "Right, me beauty. You show great wisdom for one so young!"
The squirrelmaid felt her fur prickle with embarrassment. "Oh, marm, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was speakin' so loud!"
Goody's head nodded up and down as she chuckled. "Heehee, you weren't. Sometimes my ole paws let me down, but these ears o' mine are sharp as the day I was born. What's more, when I hear yore voice echoin' round this great boat that Soil's carryin', it sounds a lot louder, I can tell ye. Heehee!"
Burble agreed with the old otter. "Ah yiss yiss, missus, I carried that boat over me head wid these three fer nigh on a day. D'ye know, they near drove me mad wid their chatterin' an' singin' echoin' through me pore young ears. Yiss!"
Dippler stared at the watervole quizzically. "Did I 'ear right, matey? Somebeast near drove you mad by chatterin'? Are yer sure 'twasn't the other way round, eh?"
Several rivulets joined in a small valley to form the stream. In the gathering twilight they heard the water sounds as they trekked through the trees toward it. Simple pleasure showed on Soil's heavy face. "You see, me liddle dearies, I told you I'd get ye here afore dark, an' I was right, was I not?" Placing the Swallow onstream, Soil held it still while the four friends stowed their supplies, climbed into the vessel and took up their paddles. Then Soil and Goody Brimm bid them farewell.