The Highlander was delighted to see Tam back safe, but he masked his feelings by scowling darkly. “Och, will ye no’ look at what the wind blew in? Ye took yer time, MacBurl! An’ who pray is the scruffy auld featherbag dancin’ aboot behind ye?”
Doogy skipped back a pace as Tergen’s beak snapped close to his nose. The hawk eyed him dangerously. “Yekkaaah! Burl want this bird to slay the little fat one?”
Further exchanges of welcome were cut short by the brigadier’s arrival. He waved his stick. “Ah, there y’are, Tam. What’s to report, eh buckoe?”
The warrior informed the brigadier of what had taken place. Crumshaw listened intently, then paced back and forth, twirling his moustache as he planned the next move. “Hmmm, I’d say the villains are headin’ for Redwall, wot! We’ve precious little time to dillydally. Our task has become a jolly sight more important than recapturin’ a drum. Immediate action’s what’s needed. Sergeant, are ye listenin’ to me orders?”
Wonwill snapped to attention. “H’I’m h’all h’ears, sah!”
The brigadier scratched a rough sketch on the ground with his swagger stick. “Righto, these are the moves! The Patrol’s right here, yonder is the Abbey, an’ there’s the vermin, someplace twixt the flippin’ two. Now, our job is t’get ahead of the foe an’ reach Redwall to defend it. Tam, I want ye to take Plumm an’ De Mayne. Your task is t’get to Redwall first, before the vermin or the Patrol. You must warn our friends of the danger in case they’re attacked before we arrive. I know I’m askin’ a blinkin’ lot, but if I’m any judge o’ gallopers, you’re the lads who’ll do the job. You’ll have to travel like the bloomin’ clappers. Well, chaps, are ye game?”
In answer, Tam passed his shield to Crumshaw. “Ye can return this t’me later, sah. I’ll be at Redwall waitin’ for ye to arrive with it. Can ye find somebeast to fix up this goshawk’s wing, sah? Tergen’s taken a bad wound. I did what I could, but I’m no great healer, sah.”
Tam winced as the hawk’s beak rapped his paw. “Gaaarraaat! This bird go with you, Burl. Plenty time for fix wing when all vermin are killed!”
One glance at the fury in the bird’s wild eyes told the brigadier that nobeast could hold him back. “Er, harumph! Looks like you’ve picked up an extra galloper, laddie, an’ a jolly perilous one at that, wot!”
Tergen nodded in agreement. “Yeeehaak! Wot wot!”
The twins, Kersey and Dauncey, marched up with soup and a flagon of cold cider.
“Corporal Wopscutt’s compliments, sah!”
“Food for the galloper before he sets off, sah!”
Tam and Tergen ignored the soup but each took a gulp of cider. Tam wiped a paw across his mouth. “Tell Butty thanks, but we’ve no time for vittles. Ferdy, Doogy, let’s get underway for the Abbey!”
Brigadier Crumshaw peered through the dust cloud the four left as they dashed off. “Forward the Buffs, that’s the spirit, wot! Now then, Kersey’n’Dauncey, dispose of that tucker. I’ve got work for you two young rips!”
The twins gulped the soup and slung aside the bowls.
“Work, sah, for us?”
“Command away, sah!”
The monocled eye flicked from one to the other. “Find the quickest way to Redwall Abbey for the Patrol, one that’ll take us away from the path an’ the vermin. I want to surprise the scoundrels when they reach Redwall. Well, don’t stand there with your jaws flappin’! I’m promotin’ ye back to gallopin’ scouts. Don’t disappoint me this time, d’ye hear?”
The two young hares beamed, shoving their chests out fit to burst and saluting several times.
“You can jolly well rely on us, sah!”
“Rather! Y’won’t regret this, sah! Thanks absolute bags!”
Sergeant Wonwill’s stentorian bellow rang round the camp. “Come on, ye sloppy idle creatures. Let’s ’ave yew formed up in ranks ready t’march h’immediately, if not sooner! Front an’ rear markers, meself an’ Derron! Flankers’ll be Wopscutt an’ Wilderry! Nah then, me lucky babes, yore goin’ to double-march so blinkin’ ’ard that yore paws’ll push ’oles inter the rocks. Straighten up those backs, look smart! Anybeast droppin’ or losin’ a weapon on the march will be on a fizzer! Do yew ’ear me, Folderon, Flunkworthy an’ Flummerty? Don’t answer that question—eyes front, ye blushin’ beauties! Long Patrol! By the right . . . Quick double. . . . Maaaaaaarch!”
Brigadier Crumshaw marched out sprightly, ahead of the flag. It was a straight, rapid pace, and he had forbidden all noise and singing for obvious reasons. However, as the commanding officer, he sang a little verse from an old song he had learned during his young seasons in the ranks. Unaware of the smiling faces behind him, the youngest of whom thought that brigadiers and officers were born full blown, with resounding voices and moustaches, Crumshaw smiled to himself as he recalled his younger days, singing away.
“To Hellgates or to glory, away we march in style.
Each warrior hare without a care,
we’ll see ye in a while.
No time for tears or droopy ears,
or blades to lay and rust.
As off we roll, the Long Patrol,
an’ stragglers eat our dust!”
18
Yoofus Lightpaw was really enjoying himself. He lay flat on the high bough of an alder, watching Gulo the Savage and his vermin band scouring the woodlands beneath. The water vole was not only an expert thief but also a clever tactician. He knew that when he left the vermin camp carrying the objects he had stolen, the white foxes and ermine would be on his trail. So Yoofus left them a trail, not back to his dwelling on the lakeside but to a clear track to the east. It delighted him to play games: he would leave marks of the swordpoint scraping and the banner brushing. From his various secret spots throughout Mossflower, Yoofus would watch them getting more frustrated. Little did he realize that the trail he was leaving resembled that of a wolverine!
Fools and idiots—thinking that they were tracking him to his home! As long as they followed, Yoofus Lightpaw would lead them on a merry trail, and whenever they halted at night, he would sneak into their camp and steal some more booty.
Yoofus watched the vermin, figuring out his next move whilst murmuring softly to himself. “Ah, come on now, ye great thick-headed gobeens! I’ll be drawin’ rings around ye, an’ ye’ll never know how t’play me game. Sure, I think a little jaunt over the ditch an’ across the ould path is called for. That’ll wear yore paws down a bit. Ye’ll sleep all the better for it tonight, while I’m robbin’ ye!”
After the vermin had moved on, Yoofus came down from his perch. He could hear Gulo berating his creatures threateningly. “Gaarrr! Addlepates, bumblers! Find that trail, or ye’ll be leaving a trail of your own blood if ye try my patience further!”
Yoofus cut off in an arc, crossing the ditch and path ahead of the vermin scouts. He artfully laid fresh marks on the east side of the woodlands, scarring one or two trees with his stolen sickle blade and bruising some low bushes whilst dragging the flag over the grass. Then he backtracked to the path, shinned up a thick crack willow tree and peered at the leading scouts who were blundering about only a few spearlengths short of the ditch. Snapping the string on one of his purloined necklaces, the crafty water vole tossed shells and coloured stones down onto the path. He saved a few of the biggest beads and placed them in the tongue of his sling.
Grik, the ermine tracker, was foraging a few paces ahead of the rest when an amber bead struck him lightly on the footpaw. “Over here, he passed this way, look!”