The male dormouse recognised Yoofus straightaway. “Mister Lightpaw, what are ye doin’ here?”
The water vole winked at him. “Hush now, Mister Muskar, don’t ye go crackin’ on that ye know me!”
The weasel glared at Yoofus. “Youse two knows each odder, yarr?”
The volethief shook his head vigourously. “Who, me, sir? Sure I never met the feller in me life. Ask his good missus, she’ll tell ye. Ain’t that right, marm?”
Mister Muskar’s wife, Lupinia, was stirring a cauldron of stew over the fire. She winked at Yoofus, showing she was far quicker on the uptake than her husband. “Oh, er, no, we’ve never had the pleasure. Pleased t’meet you, I’m sure. I’m Lupinia Muskar. That’s my husband Muskar Muskar, and these are our young ’uns—Pippat, Gretty, Wortle, Berrin and Bappik. Say hello to the nice gentlebeast who we’ve never met, m’dears!”
The young dormice caught their mother’s look and called out as one, “Hello, Yoofus!”
Doogy watched Lupinia pull bread and a batch of scones from the oven by the fire. He sniffed the stew appreciatively. “Ah must say, that smells very good, marm!”
The rat who had been prodding Doogy sniggered. “Dat’s not fer yew, fancybeast!”
He poked the Highlander’s tail again with the stone-tipped pole. Doogy looked pointedly at the water vole. “Dearie me, ah reckon ah’ve took enough o’ this nonsense!”
Yoofus smiled politely at the dormouse couple. “Would ye not like to take the babbies outside to play for a while?”
As is typical of many father dormice, Mister Muskar was fairly dim-witted. Clearly not having caught on, he blinked and scratched his stomach as he replied, “Er, it’ll be their bedtime soon.”
His wife gathered the young ones together. “Do as the goodbeast says, dear. Let’s take them outside into the fresh air for a bit.”
A sly kick to her husband’s paw set things right. “Oh, er, outside, yes, why not? Still some daylight left.”
The weasel nodded toward the food. “Worrabout dose vikkles, eh?”
Yoofus reassured him fawningly, “Ah, don’t get yore tail in a knot, sir. Sure we’ll serve ye. Won’t we, mate?”
Doogy grinned widely. “Och, ye can wager yore bad teeth on that, mah friend. We’ll serve ye, sure enough!”
The weasel pointed at Doogy. “Wot ’e says?”
The water vole chuckled. “He says he’s highly delighted t’be servin’ ye, sir. ’Twill be a meal like ye’ve never had before. So sit yoreselves down now.”
Lupinia and her husband sat watching their young ones by the streambank. The young dormice were making small twigboats with leaves for sails and floating them on the water.
Mister Muskar expressed his confusion and unhappiness with everything. “Huh, ’tis bad enough being threatened an’ overrun by vermin, but when we’re put out of our own home to play with the young ones, well that really is the limit! By the time we’re allowed back inside, those vermin brutes will have eaten all the food. There’s little enough left as it is. To cap it all, that rascal Lightpaw invites himself and a friend around for dinner. But we’ve got a family to think of, so I’ve got to put up with it all. What are we to do, Lupinia?”
His wife replied soothingly, “Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure everything will work out alright.”
The conversation was interrupted by the sounds of uproar from within their home. Muskar leapt up with alarm. “Oh good gracious, what’s all this about?”
The body of a rat came sailing out of the dormouse’s home, landing in a heap across Muskar’s footpaws. He recoiled from the carcase as the din from indoors increased.
“Haway Braaaaaw! Come on, ye villains. Ah’m no’ a dormousie, ah’m Wild Doogy Plumm! Haway Braaaaaaaw!”
Footpaws pounded madly about, mingled with vermin screams.
“Aaaagh, leggo a me!”
“Getta spear . . . Ooooffff!”
“Ah, come here, me scruffy ould beauty, I’ll teach ye to bully my neighbours, so I will!”
“Get be’ind der fancybeast. Use yer spear!”
“Och, ye’ll prod no more creatures wi’ that thing, mah bonny vermin. Here, taste a claymore blade!”
A ferret staggered out. Clutching his stomach, he gurgled horribly before collapsing.
Muskar stared at his wife in amazement. “It’s Lightpaw and the squirrel. They’re fighting the vermin, but how . . . ?”
His wife called to her young ones, “Play further up the bank, but don’t wander too far away.”
She turned to her husband. “I told you not to worry, dear. Mister Lightpaw and his friend are warriors. Trust me, they’ll take care of those dreadful vermin.”
Muskar grabbed the club from the paws of a dead rat. “Go and look after our young ’uns, Lupinia. I’ve been longing for a chance to have a crack at those vermin!”
He rushed indoors, waving the club and roaring, “Invade my home an’ steal my food, would you? Ye bottle-nosed, snaggletoothed, tat-furred bullies! Take that, an’ that . . . an’ have some o’ this, too!”
When the atmosphere became calmer, the dormouse mother brought her brood back to the cave. Muskar was helping Doogy and Yoofus to throw the slain vermin into the stream.
Yoofus bowed politely to her. “Ye’d best take the babbies inside, missus. Sure they don’t want to be seein’ this lot departin’!”
Doogy doffed his cap. “Aye, marm, we kept ’em well away from the vittles. Go on in now, the bairns will be wantin’ tae eat yore fine cookin’.”
Lupinia curtsied prettily to her saviours. “My thanks to you, goodbeasts. Will you join us for supper?”
Yoofus nodded to Doogy and Muskar. “You two go on. I’ll finish up here an’ join ye later!”
With stew, new-baked bread and some honey and preserved fruit, they dined thankfully.
Mister Muskar produced a gourd of his special bilberry and apple cordial. “I was hiding this from the scum.”
After a while, Yoofus strolled in, washing his paws off with streamwater. He accepted his platter gratefully. “Ah well, that’s that! Er, ye don’t mind me sayin’, mate, but ye’ve got me pretty little dagger stowed in yore belt. I’ll thank ye to return it.”
Deftly catching the blade which Doogy tossed to him, Yoofus eyed a small stringed instrument hanging on the wall. “Is that a manjaleero, sir? Faith, ’tis long seasons since I saw one of those. Could I try it, sir?”
Mister Muskar took it down. “Be my guest.”
The water vole twiddled the tiny carved pegs, tuning it until he was satisfied at the tone. He winked at the young Muskars. “Shall I give ye a bit of an ould song?”
The little dormice nodded eagerly. Yoofus took a swig of Muskar’s special cordial and strummed a chord. “Right then, this is an ould ditty me grandma used to sing. I wrote it meself this mornin’.”
He launched straight into the lively air.
“There’s some likes the sportin’ an’ throwin’ the ball,
but I love the howlin’ an’ fightin’ an’ all.
So if yore in a ruction just give a loud call,
an’ meself will come chargin’ to aid yeh!
I’ve walloped a weasel an’ stiffened a stoat,
I can beat any durty ould vermin afloat.
An’ if I grab a lizard or newt by his throat,
sure he’ll wish he’d stayed home with his mammy!
I’ve fought with a ferret an’ rousted a rat,
I biffed a big fox, aye, an’ laid him out flat.
I’m as tough an’ ferocious as any wildcat,
mind yer manners when Yoofus comes callin’!
One mornin’ I strolled all alone by the lake,
an’ spied a great serpent whose name was MacSnake.