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before long. Tell you what: you give me the keys. That way

I'll take all the responsibility. You go and get your supper

and have a game of shove acorn with your mates."

; The stoat surrendered the keys willingly to Mask. Who

- said this new Captain was a bad-tempered fox? He saluted

smartly.

"Thanks, Cap'n. Give me a call if you need help."

Mask marched off down the passage, calling over his .£ shoulder, "No need,

mate. You carry on. I can take care of I

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a crazy half-starved cat anytime, or my name ain't Patch-coat."

Gingivere was ready with Ferdy and Coggs as the key grated in the lock. The

door swung open to reveal the strange fox with the evil countenance.

"Quickly, now," he whispered, holding a paw to his muzzle. "There's no time to

lose. Gingivere, you walk in front of me, I'll have my dagger out as if I'm

marching you up to the Queen's chamber. Ferdy, Coggs, get behind me, under my

cloak, and keep as close to me as possible. Don't make a sound; your lives

depend upon it."

To the casual observer, it looked as if there were only two creatures walking

along the passage, Gingivere and Captain Patchcoat. Ferdy and Coggs were

completely hidden beneath the Captain's cloak. They negotiated the cell area

successfully. Twice they passed guards who, knowing Captain Patch-coat's

reputation, saluted smartly, keeping their eyes to the front. Mask nodded

curtly to them. The escapers carried on up two flights of stairs and into the

main entrance passage.

Cludd strode out of the mess hall with another weasel named Brogg just as Mask

and Gingivere were passing. Cludd was still smarting from his demotion. "Watch

this, matey," he winked cunningly at Brogg. "I'll make old cleverwhiskers jump

through the roof. You'll see."

Mask's bushy imitation tail protruded from the bottom of the cloak that had

once been Cludd's pride and joy. Sneaking up behind Mask, Cludd stamped his

paw down hard and heavy on the tail, expecting to see Mask leap in the air and

roar with pain. Instead, Mask carried on walking. The tail had fiallen off; it

lay trapped under Cludd's paw. The weasel stared open-mouthed at the false

tail, its end covered with pine resin and two cunning twine fasteners.

It took the slow-witted Cludd a moment to catch on.

"Hey, you, Patchcoat! Stop! Stop him. He's no fox!"

Cludd ran forward. Mask tore down a wall hanging, throwing it over the head of

his charging enemy. Cludd fell, stumbling and wriggling to unhamper himself.

Gingivere swept up the two small hedgehogs and dashed for the main door, with

Mask close behind. Together they charged the main

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door, both creatures slamming their weight against it. The door flew open,

bowling Ashleg over as he stumped in.

The fugitives sped across the parade ground as the hue and cry was raised

behind them.

"Escape! Escape! Stop them quickly. Kill them if you have to!"

The upper galleries were crowded with the tribe of Lord Cay-vear. Martin stood

ready with a heap of rocks and his sling. Log-a-Log was beside him, his shrew

dagger drawn.

It was a tense moment as Dinny went up silently, paw by paw, until he was

directly under the crack of light.

"What is your friend doing now?" Lord Cayvear whispered to Martin. "There is

soil and moss up there, but many rocks, many rocks."

Martin watched the soft earth and small rocks beginning to slide down the

incline. "He's digging inward then downward. That way, whatever is above will

collapse and hopefully fall outward."

More moss, rock and earth came down in a moving scree. Dinny came with it,

sliding on his back and keeping an eye on the light shaft. The young mole

dusted his coat off.

"Hurr, hurr, clever oi. Marthen, see if 'ee c'n get summat to lever your 'ole

with."

Martin turned to Lord Cayvear. "Have you got a long stout timber we could use

as a lever?"

The bat chieftain conversed quietly with a band of his followers. They saluted

and winged off from the high galleries.

"Be lot quicker an more suproisful wi' a gurt lever," Dinny explained to Lord

Cayvear.

There was not long to wait before the bats returned bearing a stout piece of

wood.

Log-a-Log fondled it, with tears in his eyes. "It's the keel of Waterwing, my

lovely boat!"

Sure enough, the stout curving timber was the original birchwood keel of

Waterwing; the bats had salvaged it from the falls.

On Dinny's instructions, it was borne upward by an army of bats. They waited

until he had clambered up and positioned himself at the hole, then slowly they

fed the strong timber in, under the mole's guidance. When the timber was

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fixed to Dinny's satisfaction, he wedged it on either side and underneath with

three rocks. Then the mole slid back down to his friends. Martin looked up;

what Dinny had accomplished was a deep hole beneath the light shaft, with the

boat keel sticking out of the excavation at a slightly upward angle.

Log-a-Log scratched his chin. "What happens now, Dinny?"

"Hurr, now 'ee baths fly oop thurr soilent loik and perch on yon lever's end."

Lord Cayvear began signaling his legions. Two by two the bats flew silently as

cloud shadows, then perched on the end of the lever.

When eight of them were perched securely, the keel grated, moving fractionally

downward. They shifted and tightened clawholds.

Two more bats landed on the keel. It stayed still.

Yet another two landed. This time it moved visibly.

Dinny turned to the assembly. "Hoo arr, arf duzzen more'll do *ee. Best coom

out o* way whurr it be safer."

Another two bats had landed, then another two. There was more shale and rock

sliding down as the final two bats landed on the end of the overcrowded keel,

proving Dinny's calculation totally accurate.

Suddenly the hole gave way and collapsed, pushed outward by the keel bearing

down. The entire rock face shifted under the leverage. Bats flew in all

directions. Through the dust the small shaft of light widened into a hole as

big as a fair-sized cave entrance.

There was a screeching and hooting, and through the debris Martin glimpsed a

huge tawny owl winging its way west then south.

Amid the rubble of the landslide, the bats raised a sibilant cheer. Dinny was

carried above them up the scree to the opening, Martin and Log-a-Log helping

to bear their friend.

The three travelers were breathing deeply in the cool sweet evening air when

Lord Cayvear flapped up gracefully. He bowed deeply.

"My thanks to you and your friends, Martin. Against the bigeyes we were

totally helpless, totally helpless."

"I know, Lord Cayvear," Martin nodded understandingly.

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"Even we could not have fought off a tawny owt that size-he was a real

monster. Well, thanks to our Dinny, we can continue the quest and your tribe

can live in peace and safety."

Log-a-Log offered some good advice. "What you must do is to bar the entrance

with wood and make a door. Leave some small holes in it, and station sentries

night and day. Then if any large birds try to roost, you can push them off

with spears and long poles. I will tell you how this door can be made."

For the first time Martin and Dinny looked over the edge to the outside world

below. There was nothing to see except heavy gray evening mist in layers on

the ground.

Martin stepped back from the edge. "We couldn't attempt to climb down there at

night, Din. Let's stop here with our friends tonight and continue the quest