The young mouse took a bite and rolled his eyes. "Mmm, do I ever.
Sweet things are good for the voice, you know."
Gauchee was nibbling an apple and a carrot together. "Are they? I never knew that. I only eat apple 'n' carrot myself. Do you sing much, Brome?"
Without warning, Brome let forth a swift yodel with his piercing tenor voice. "Tralalalalalalarrr! Do I indeed! Try and stop me, Gauchee."
Ballaw picked up a small harecordion and tuned it. "Good f you, young feller. D'you know the Bobble O riddle song?"
Brome winked. "You play it and I'll sing it." Ballaw played the introduction and Brome began singing, with Rowanoak providing a fine baritone harmony line. It was so catchy that the entire company, even Felldoh, clapped their paws in time with the lively melody.
"Bobble O Bobble O Bobble O,
If you know, tell me where I do grow.
High above the lowly earth,
And yet I flourish for all I'm worth.
Bobble O Bobble O Bobble O,
Tell me now if you think you know.
I hang between the earth and sky,
Green or brown as the seasons pass by
As around me all the birds do fly,
and just before winter away go I.
Bobble O Bobble O Bobble O ohhhh
Tell me true, I'd like you to try!"
There was long applause and Brome had his back patted so heartily it began to ache.
"Excellent, top hole, young un!"
"You'm gorra foin voice, zurr Broom!"
"Oh, it was the best I've ever heard. You never missed a beat!"
"Well done. I wish we had a tenor who could sing half as good!"
Felldoh scratched his head. "What was it?"
Brome took a bite of his pie. "What was what?"
"The thing in the riddle song, green, brown, growing in the sky and then flying away before winter with the birds. What was it?"
Ballaw nodded towards Brome. "That's for the singer to tell old lad."
Brome winked at Felldoh. "What else could it be but a leaf?"
Rowanoak sat down between the two friends. "Now, tell me about yourselves. Where are you from and how did you come to this place?"
Outside, the wind whistled across the bleak Northeast Sea. The rain had stopped and a quarter moon showed between the scudding night cloud formations, throwing down a moving pattern of dark and silver across the shore. Snug in the crevice of the lowering cliffs the company crouched in their makeshift tent. Inside the lean to, Felldoh and Brome sat around the fire, eating and drinking as they related their story to the new found friends they had made, the Rambling Rosehip Players.
11
When the rain stopped, Martin felt his footpaws touching solid ground beneath the water. He stood upright with the sea lapping his neck, shaking Rose and Grumm, who had both fallen asleep.
"Land. We've made it. Help me push this oar ashore."
Hardly feeling the wood of the paddle, their bodies numbed from constant immersion in cold sea water, the three friends crawled out onto a sandy beach situated at the foot of high dark cliff formations.
They sat on the sand, shivering and hungry, their teeth chattering and paws trembling uncontrollably.
Through salt bleared eyes Grumm peered up at the cliffs. "Wunner wot be up thurr?"
Martin rose stiffly, massaging his limbs. "Some small cave where we can shelter for the night, I hope. Do you two want to rest here while I take a look?"
Rose and Grumm staggered on to their paws.
"I don't like it here. Grumm and I will go with you."
"Burr aye, 'tis creepy rounden yurr!"
The rocks were dark and slippery from the rain. Martin went in front, with Rose bringing up the rear. They kept Grumm in the middle as he was not a very good climber. Moles seldom are. Holding the paddle between them, they strove upwards, scrabbling and sometimes sliding back in the darkness. After what seemed an eternity of grappling with the wet cliff face, they rested on a narrow ledge. The three friends sat catching their second wind, listening to the tide far below as it surged and hissed along the night cloaked shore.
Martin peered upwards. "I think if we climb a little further there is a much broader ledge above us. There's bound to be some sort of cave or crevice where we can shelter."
"Carn't oi stay yurr," Grumm sighed wearily. "Moi pesky ole paws be gone a sleeping on oi."
Rose rubbed her molefriend's paws vigorously "Poor Grumm.
Champion diggers can't be champion climbers too. Not far to go now and you can have a good sleep. I'll get breakfast tomorrow so you can have a little extra lie in."
This offer perked Grumm up no end. "Burr. Thankee koindly, Miz Roser. You'm a guddbeast!"
Martin gave an involuntary shiver. "There's something about this place I don't like. Still, this is where we landed up, and beggars can't be choosers. Come on."
All three had their paws on the rim of the ledge after a short hard climb when the nets came hurling down and enveloped them. Tough, close woven meshes of kelp, weighted down all around with stones.
The friends were swept from the rock face and held dangling, their paws, tails and heads entangled in the snaring nets. Tiny dark shapes, masses of them, jibbered and pranced on the broad ledge as they hauled their catch swiftly upwards. It was over in a flash. Martin, Rose and Grumm were landed like fishes and swiftly clubbed into unconsciousness.
Swimming up through dark mists, Martin's head lanced with pain as he opened his eyes, in bright sunlight. A stick prodded him sharply in the back.
"Biggamouse wake up! Muggamug! Plennygood catchim!"
The young mouse opened his eyes fully and saw he was boxed inside a stout wooden cage. Tiny mouselike creatures with long wiggling snouts surrounded the cage. They danced up and down with excitement. One more venturesome than the rest darted forward and jabbed Martin's paw with a sharpened stick.
"Gotcha gotcha, Biggamouse! Higgig! Notso big ganow!"
The young mouse reacted speedily. With a swipe he snapped the stick, baring his teeth savagely as he gripped the wooden bars.
"Gerroutofit, you jibbering little idiots, and leave me alone!"
He shouted so loudly that the tiny creatures scattered like chaff before the wind, clapping paws over their ears.
Martin glared through the cage at them, growling fiercely, "Keep your distance, or I'll eat you all!"
He clashed his teeth several times, sending fresh pain waves through his throbbing head. Rubbing a sizeable bump on the back of his skull, Martin looked around and took stock of his position.
His cage was in the entrance to a large cave. On the opposite wall he could see two other wooden cages, in which the senseless forms of Rose and Grumm lay More of the tiny creatures passed, giving him a wide berth. They were carrying several fish which had been lashed to driftwood poles smelts, shannies and butterfish they had brought up from the shore.
Behind them, carrying nets and fishing gear, came a hedgehog. His footpaws had been bound to a heavy log that he was forced to tow in his wake. Martin shook the cage bars, calling to him.
"Hey! What is this place and who are all these little wretches?"
The hedgehog gave Martin a quick smile and a friendly wink. "I'm Pallum. Be still. I'll get back to you."
He was urged on by more little creatures following up the rear.
"Urryurry, pinpiggy. Mouthashut!"
As they passed into the recesses of the cave, Grumm stirred. "Burr oo! Moi pore ole 'ead, et be bumpen an' a bangen orfully."
The sound of the mole's voice seemed to waken Rose. Immediately she was up on her paws, and despite her aching head she battered and tugged at the bars of her cage.
"Let me out of here this instant, d'you hear. Let me out!"
Grumm held paws over his ears. "Hurr, doant ee make such a gurt noise, mizzy. You'm 'urtin' moi brains."
Martin was relieved his friend had suffered no permanent damage.
"Grumm's right, Rose. Best lie still. How do you feel?"
The mousemaid managed a wan smile. "Apart from being caged up with an ache in my head and a bump like a thrush's egg, plus a raging thirst and an empty stomach, I feel fine. How are you this morning?"