Togey pointed to the pit and the fire. “Whilst we was waitin’, the cooks spotted a shoal o’trout swimmin’upriver, so we snared a few. They’ve got a troutbake goin’. It’ll be ready afore evenin’. I’ve posted two lookouts to watch the pines for ye. My healers will tend to yore wounded. Come aboard for some snacks an’ a drink. There’s somethin’ that’s been botherin’ me, I want to talk with ye about it.”
Tam, Butty and Ferdimond sat beneath an awning on Togey’s big logboat, drinking rosehip cordial and nibbling at a tray of preserved fruits. With the late noon sunlight shimmering off the gently flowing water, Tam and the hares sat back and relaxed for the first time that day.
Butty called to the young hares on the bank who were shouting and gesticulating as they told the Guosim of their heroic exploits. “I say, you chaps, please keep it down to a dull roar!” He turned to the shrew chieftain. “Now then, old lad, what’s on y’mind, eh?”
Togey scratched his beard. “It’s somethin’ ye said back at the water meadows, Tam. When ye joined up with the Long Patrol hares, how many vermin were ye trackin’?”
The border warrior pursed his lips. “Oh, about fivescore, I figured—an’ Gulo, of course. But no more’n that.”
Togey nodded. “I thought that’s wot ye said. But when I sent Oneshrew an’ Twoshrew out to find where the vermin were camped last evenin’, they reported back that there was only slightly more’n twoscore of ’em!”
Ferdimond glanced from one to the other. “Oh corks! That leaves half o’ the blinkin’ villains unaccounted for, wot?”
Butty bit his lip. “Y’know what that means, Tam?”
Tam stood up, fired by a sense of urgency. “The other half’ll be attackin’ the Abbey. We’d best get the Patrol on the move back to Redwall!”
Log a Log Togey gestured the squirrel back to his seat. “I’ve lived a few seasons more’n you beasts. Runnin’ off with half a scheme is a sure route to failure. Let’s take time to figure things out properlike. I’ve got one or two ideas I’d like to put to ye.”
Tam sat down. “I’m always ready to listen an’ heed a Chieftain of your experience, Togey. Carry on, mate.”
The Guosim leader explained his scheme. “If’n you could get through those birds in the pines, then Gulo could, though I don’t know wot shape his number o’ vermin’ll be when he does. Rest assured, though, he’ll be comin’ after ye, so we can’t afford to ignore him. Yore first plan was to draw the vermin away from Redwall an’ pick ’em off until they were finished, but that plan won’t hold water anymore, Tam. I think we should stay put by this river. When Gulo comes out o’ the pines an’ picks up the trail again, then we move. We’ll wait ’til the last moment, then leave a clear trail for him t’follow. My Guosim can get ye back to Redwall, by one waterway an’ another, until we’re not far from the Abbey. I’ll have scouts sent out to otherbeasts who’ll help us. I know lots o’ creatures who are friendly to the Redwallers. They’ll help without question.”
Tam winked at the wise old shrew. “Right, Togey, a great plan! What d’you think, Butty?”
Corporal Wopscutt smiled his approval. “Capital tactic, wot! Right, what’s the next move, chaps?”
Tam quaffed the last of his drink and rose once more. “Get out there on the riverbank, make lots o’ noise an’ keep a good fire goin’. Then Gulo an’ his vermin can see where we are an’ come after us again, eh, Togey?”
The Guosim chieftain was in complete agreement. “Don’t want to lose ’em, do we?”
It was dark by the time the troutbake was ready. By the light of three good fires, the Guosim cooks raked away the glowing embers on top of their pit. Uncovering a layer of earth and steaming damp foliage, they scooped out the apples, celery, onions and watercress lying on top of the baked trout. The fish, which had been placed on a bed of hot stones at the bottom of the pit, were cooked to perfection. Hares and shrews sat together on the riverbank, drinking old shrewbeer and doing justice to the delicious meal. Four young Long Patrol members entertained everybeast with a barrack room ditty which was an old favourite from the sergeants’ mess at Salamandastron. Some of their harmonies were a bit off-key, but what they lacked in melodic content they made up for in volume. All the others knew the “walla walla” chorus and taught it to the shrews as they sang along raucously.
“A gallant young warrior lay weary,
on a battlefield far from his home.
He tried to sit up and sound cheery,
an’ these were the words he did moan. Ooooooohhh
Walla walla wimbo, bing bang bimbo,
wullyah wullyah wullyah whoo!
Wot I wouldn’t give for a basinful
of me grandma’s hard-baked stew!
Give this pudden back to me dear mother,
an’ tell her I slew ten vermin with it.
Say I don’t wish to cause any bother,
but the Sergeant’s a silly great twit!
Oooooooohhhhh
Walla walla wimbo, bing bang bimbo,
wullyah wullyah wullyah whoop!
I must complain I’ve got a pain,
an’ the cook makes poison soup!
Tell my fat little sister I love her,
an’ give her this flea-ridden coat.
Say it comes from her handsome young brother,
it was swiped off a greasy old stoat.
Oooooooohhhhh
Walla walla wimbo, bing bang bimbo,
wullyah wullyah wullyah whoo!
Me ears are green an’ me bottom’s red,
an’ me nose is turnin’ blue!
Now the foebeast are nearly upon me,
I’m eatin’ a raw onion pie.
I’ll remember me auntie quite fondly,
but it’s so jolly hard not to cry. Ooooooohhhhhh
Walla walla wimbo, bing bang bimbo,
wullyah wullyah wullyah yaah!
I’ve finished me scoff so I’ll be off,
I’ll be home by teatime, Ma!”
Log a Log Togey, having learned the “walla walla” bit quickly, sat tapping both footpaws and singing rowdily throughout the proceedings. When the song was over, he smoothed his beard and sat up straight, remarking to Tam, “Silly pointless song, huh? The things these young hares sing! Y’wouldn’t catch a Guosim warblin’ rubbish like that!”
Just then Threeshrew, another one of the sisters, and Fourshrew, her brother, leapt up. They cavorted around the bank, holding paws and splashing in and out of the shallows as they performed a lively rendition of a Guosim favourite. Tam had trouble keeping a straight face in Togey’s presence as he listened to the words.
“Splish splash bumpitty crash!
all in and out the water.
Amid the cascade, bow to the maid,
an’ kiss the cook’s young daughter!
How happy we’ll be, just you’n me,
we’ll have a good ole wash.
Yore mother’ll say ‘O lack a day,’
Splish splash splosh!
Splish splash bumpitty crash!
The little maid she said sir,
‘Just look at the mess o’ my fine dress,
I’ll blame it on the weather!’
And as for you, I’ll tell you true,
my daddy’ll yell ‘Good gosh!’
He’ll tan yore tail an’ make you wail,
Splish splash splosh!”
Tam glanced sideways at Togey. “Splish splash splosh?”
The Guosim chieftain glared challengingly at him. “Aye, a fine old song, part of our shrew tradition. A bathtime ditty, as I recall. Mothers sing it to their babes whilst they scrub ’em in the tub. Anythin’ wrong with that, Mister MacBurl?”
The border warrior hastily reassured the old patriarch, “Oh no, sir, a traditional Guosim song, just as y’say!”
One of the young shrews seated nearby called out to Threeshrew and Fourshrew, “Sing us another, mates! How about Wully Wolly Whoppo or Groggity Groo Mallog?”
Log a Log Togey tweaked the young one’s ear, murmuring quietly to him, “Enough of that, ’tis past yore bedtime.”