There was the mountain. Rising above the mists into the summer day, it towered in solitary splendor, the lower slopes clad in verdant pine, rising to shrub and wild lupin, which gave way to naked dun hued rock all the way to its majestic peak.
Grumm shielded his eyes with a digging claw, peering up. "Well, dig moi tunnel! Us'ns got t' cloimb yon gurt 'ill?"
The Warden halted, fixing them with his fierce eye. "You can see the mountain?"
Rose nodded her head, awed at the sight. "We surely can. Have we got to climb over it?"
The heron stood on one leg. "No, only halfway. Do you see the cave?"
The four friends searched the rocky mass, straining their eyes.
Martin looked at Rose and shrugged before turning to the Warden.
"We cannot see a cave, but if you say it is there then we believe you.
Halfway up, you said."
The Warden nodded. "Yes, halfway up. It is a runnel through the mountain. Now I must leave you. These are my marshes. I am the law here. I stay."
With an awkward hopskip he took to the air, wings beating until he caught a thermal. Swooping over them, the bird called out, "You saved my life. I will not forget this. You are not lawbreakers. Maybe I will be able to help you someday. I go now. Goodbye!"
As he swooped away, Rose cried aloud, "Thank you for your help.
Besides the cave, is there anything else we should look out for when we climb the mountain?"
Wheeling in a half turn, the heron called a final message, "Ask Boldred, the mountain is not mine. These are my marshes and I alone am the laaaaaa aawwwwwww!"
With that, the Warden of Marshwood Hill was gone, soaring above his domain of treacherous ooze and reptilian subjects.
In the late afternoon they came out of the marshlands. Crossing a stretch of dry scrub country, the four travellers stopped at the fringe of pines in the mountainous foothills. It was green and shady where Martin decided they would camp.
"We'll rest here until the morning before attempting to climb the mountain. A good meal and a long sleep is what we need."
Grumm shook the food packs out, his homely face a picture of dismay as he took stock of their supplies. "Burr, 'ardly any vittles left!"
Two wizened apples, a few pawfuls of wheat flour, one or two candied nuts and three raspberry scones were all that remained of Polleekin's good food. The mole shook their final canteen. "Lack a day, on'y arf full o' mint cordial!"
Rose chuckled as she prodded her friend's tubby little stomach. "Oh dearie me, Grumm Trencher, are you going to let us all starve and waste away to leaf shadows?"
Grumm polished his ladle vigorously with dry grass. "You'm a snip, Miz Roser, no mistake about that! Roight, oi'm taken charge yurr an'
now. Pallum, surch furr veg gibles, zurr Marthen, an' you'm, Miz Roser, lukk for water an' gather wudd. Oi'll see wot can be 'unted oop.
Listen now, oi wants you'm all back yurr afore sunset. Be that clear?"
Pallum, Martin and Rose giggled as they whispered among themselves. Grumm waved the ladle at them. "Oi said, be that clear?"
They turned to him with serious faces, trying hard not to laugh as they stood stiffly to attention saluting.
"To hear is to obey, Lord Grumm!"
"We will not come back empty pawed, O Mighty One!"
"We are yours to command, for you are the law!"
They dashed off laughing, leaving Grumm polishing his ladle. "Oi doant see nuthin' funny. Vittles be serious, ho urr!"
Twilight found the four friends seated around a cozy little fire.
Their foraging had proved extremely fruitfuclass="underline" apples, early wild plums and some green acorns, parsley, dandelion, wild oats and a piece of honeycomb, which Pallum had found floating in a small rivulet of ice cold mountain water. There were also a few mushrooms and some watercress which had been growing by the rivulet. Grumm borrowed Martin's sword and used the blade to peel and chop. The others took their ease, laying back under a small spreading pine to watch him.
"Hurr, mushrooms 'n' cress goes with parsley 'n' danneeline," the mole explained as he prepared supper. "Chop up they green acorns too. Twill make gudd zoop, a'most thick as stew." He paused to rap Rose's paw with the ladle as she tried to steal a wild plum. "Gurroff, mizzy! Oi needs they, to put wi' last o' flour and woild oaters an'
hunny. Chop 'ee apples vurry liddle. Pass oi yon flat stone, oi needs it furr moi asperimend."
Martin looked at Rose as he passed Grumm the flat thin rock.
"Asperimend? What does he mean?"
"He means experiment. Grumm is always experimenting with food.
He's very good, his experiments can turn out tasty."
The soup when it came was savory, and they blew on it as they sipped it from their scallop shells. Grumm had patted his mixture of wild plum, flour, oats, honey and apples into small round cakes that he cooked on the flat rock over the fire. The sweet smell wreathed round the camp as he turned off the first batch to cool in the grass.
Taking one gingerly, he broke it, giving half to Rose. "Wot you'm think o' that, mizzy?"
The mousemaid juggled it in her paws, blowing on it as she took several quick nibbles. "Oh, Grumm, it tastes wonderful. So sweet and sticky!"
The mole wrinkled his snout in a satisfied manner. "Hurr, oi knew 't would. Oi'll make a couple o' batches an' we'll pack they'm furr rations. Oi 'opes oi c'n amember moi asperimend when we reaches
'ome to Noonvale."
Grumm gave them a cake apiece to eat after their soup. He was packing the rest of them away when a cracking of branches coupled with screams and wild laughter sounded close by. Before Martin could retrieve his sword from Grumm, a dozen or more young squirrels bounded into the camp, screeching, scrabbling and fighting. One of the creatures tripped and stumbled over Rose. He snapped at her and pushed her roughly as he struggled to rise. Martin was across to him in a twinkling. He dealt the squirrel a hefty blow and sent him sprawling again. Now the camp seemed to be full of wild looking squirrels. They wore sashes of gaily colored barkcloth and had bird feathers fastened to their tails. Disregarding the four travellers, they fought and screeched all round them, ignoring the upset and discomfort they were causing. One creature grabbed hold of Grumm, using him as a shield to escape from another, who was trying, apparently, to steal the feathers from his tail.
Martin had stood enough. He did not want to kill any of them as they had not directly attacked him or his friends, but he was determined that they should be taught a lesson. Seizing Grumm's ladle, he dashed at the two who were whirling the mole about as one tried to catch the other.
Whopp! Thock!
Martin dealt out two stunning blows which sat the wild pair down flat on their tails. He brandished the ladle and roared, "Stop this!
D'you hear me? Stoppit this instant!"
The squirrels halted, panting heavily and grinning at each other.
Martin shook the ladle, his voice stern and loud.
"You hooligans, what d'you mean by dashing in and wrecking our camp like this, eh? Have you no manners at all? You're like a mob of wild beasts!"
One squirrel grabbed a feather from the tail of another and hopped nimbly on to a low pine branch. "Hah! 'Snot your land, it's ours. We're the Gawtrybe, we do what we like. So there!" He stuck his tongue out impudently at Martin.
Pallum was quick. Leaping up, he caught the branch and twanged it, catapulting the squirrel onto the ground. The other squirrels thought this was hilarious and started doing it to each other, one leaping on a low branch as the other twanged it off.
Rose was furious. Placing her paws on her hips, she yelled at them,
"Do you want me to call the Warden of Marshwood Hill?"
They stopped momentarily again, then started laughing as one of their number began imitating the grey heron's sticklike walk and doing a passable impression of the bird.