Doogy’s eyes grew wider as four scaly little limbs emerged from the beast. Opening its small, pink-tongued mouth, it trundled toward the food in the volewife’s paw.
Totally flabbergasted, Doogy scratched his tail in bewilderment. “Where in the name o’ moles’n’mountains did ye get that beastie? What manner o’ creature is it?”
Didjety fed her small friend fondly. “Ah sure, Yoofus gave it t’me as a gift to keep me company while he’s out rovin’ goodness knows where.”
Doogy grabbed the volethief’s whiskers and tweaked hard. “Where did ye steal it? An’ I want tae know the truth!”
Yoofus came up on tippaw as Doogy tweaked harder. “Owowow! Leggo, ye great murderin’ hooligan. I never stole it—on me honour as a thief, I didn’t. Yowch gerroff!”
Doogy released him, listening whilst the vole related his story. “ ’Twas a curious thing but true, as ye’ll hear. One mornin’ I was sittin’ fishin’ by the lake, with me back up against a sycamore tree. Well, there’s me, tryin’ to catch a sly ould perch I’ve been after all season, when right beside me the earth starts t’move! Hoho, sez I to meself, here comes a mole who’s lost his way. But it wasn’t any mole at all. Somebeast must’ve filled in a hole near the tree with a pile o’ moss an’ dead leaves, ’cos all of a sudden up comes ould Rockbottom, calm as ye like. Then he tumbles over onto the back of his shell, with the effort of climbin’ out, d’ye see. So there’s him, layin’ an’ lookin’ at me, an’ there’s me, sittin’ an’ lookin’ at him. I sez good day, an’ how d’ye do, but the beast doesn’t say a thing back t’me. So I turned him over an’ set him back on his liddle legs. Then, d’ye know what he did? He follered me back home, without a word or a by yore leave. Didjety took to the liddle feller right away, so she did. We named him Rockbottom, an’ he’s been with us ever since. An’ grand ould company he is, too. Aren’t ye Rockbottom, me ould tatercake?”
With eyes twinkling, the creature nodded its head as Didjety stroked it lovingly. “Sure he’s neither beetle, crab nor newt, but I wouldn’t be without me darlin’ pet, not for anythin’!”
The truth hit Doogy like a bolt of lightning. “That beast is a Walkin’ Stone. It’s the thing that auld Gulo the Savage wants tae get his paws on!”
At the mention of Gulo, the little creature shot its head back into its shell.
Didjety scowled. “Well, I don’t give a mouldy acorn who this Gulo is, but he’s not gettin’ me Rockbottom!”
The Highlander nodded decisively. “No, he ain’t, marm, ’cos Rockbottom’s comin’ back tae Redwall Abbey wi’ me!”
Yoofus stood up, placing his paw aggressively on his dagger hilt. “My Didjety’s liddle pet leaves this place over me dead body. So what d’ye say t’that, me bold squirrel?”
Quick as a flash, Doogy drew his dirk, rapping the volethief’s paw sharply. Then he laid the blade on Yoofus’s nose. “That can be easily arranged, mah wee sauncy vole!”
Mister Muskar, who had sat silently downing sausages during the dispute, protested, “But you can’t just march in here and take that creature away from the Lightpaws. That makes you as big a thief as Yoofus, if you’ll pardon my saying, Mister Lightpaw.”
Doogy thrust another sausage into the dormouse’s mouth. “Ah’ll thank ye t’stay out o’ this, sir. Rockbottom is goin’ tae Redwall, an’ so is the drum. Yore comin’, too, Yoofus. But before we get tae the Abbey, yore goin’ tae take us tae yon hole in the streambank. D’ye recall it? Ah think that’s where ye hid Rakkety Tam MacBurl’s claymore an’ the banner ye stole when ye escaped from the Abbey.”
Yoofus pushed the blade away from his nose and nodded. “Faith, you ain’t as thick as ye look, Mister Plumm. You’ve had yore eye on me closely. I thought ye’d forgotten the sword an’ the flag. Alright, friend, you win. I’ll go with ye!”
Now it was Didjety’s turn to protest. “Hold fast there! Ye ain’t traipsin’ off an’ leavin’ me here all alone.”
Doogy shrugged. “Then ye’d best come with us, marm.”
The volewife looked around at her neat home. “But who’s goin’ to take care of this place?”
Mister Muskar volunteered. “Myself and my good wife Lupinia will do that, Mrs. Lightpaw. That’s if you’d be good enough to leave us a supply of your delicious sausages?”
Yoofus suddenly took a shine to the idea. “Sure, we’ll take the raft, it’ll be a nice little trip downstream. Ah, ye’ll love Redwall, Didjety me darlin’, ’tis a grand ould place. Right then, let’s get packed!”
Doogy sat down and began loading up a plate. “Not before ah’ve helped mahself tae these vittles!”
He immediately pronounced Didjety’s sausages excellent. “Och, ah never met a sausage until taeday, but ah could happily live on ’em for the rest o’ mah life, marm!”
The vermin must have stolen the raft from some otherbeasts, because it was a stout, well-built craft, and it rode the stream smoothly. Mister Muskar leaped ashore as they passed his dwelling. The dormouse family came out to wave farewell as they drifted off downstream, with Yoofus and Doogy plying the long paddling poles.
The highland squirrel watched the deep quiet stream running silently by, murmuring to himself as he wielded his paddle, “Ah hope Tam’s lookin’ after himself an’ no’ frettin’ about me too much.”
31
Gulo the Savage and his twenty-nine vermin arrived at the broad stream too late. Tam and the hares had gone with the Guosim, sailing two hours or more downstream. The wolverine sat down upon the bank, wearied after his ordeal in the pines and the subsequent race to catch up with his foes. He knew his warriors were exhausted, too. Gulo, however, would permit no signs of fatigue—neither his own nor those of his vermin.
Watching the foxes and ermine flopping down, sorely in need of rest, the tyrant scorned them harshly. “Hah, even as a babe I could fight all day an’ run beasts like ye into the ground. Rest, then, drink the waters an’ cool your paws, for ’twill be woe unto the beast who lags behind when we get going!”
He called Eissaye, an ermine tracker, to his side. “Our enemies do not travel without purpose, methinks. Whither would they be bound to on this water?”
Eissaye shrugged. “Who knows, Lord?”
He squeaked with pain as the wolverine’s claw pierced the lobe of his ear. Gulo dragged him forward until they were face-to-face. His voice brooked no argument. “Thou art a tracker an’ a scout. Who would know better than thee? Now use thy brains before I spill them onto this bank, fool! Tell me, where are they bound?”
With his face screwed to one side, Eissaye gasped out an explanation based on what he had learned of the territory thus far. “Unless the watermice have some secret hiding place downstream, ’tis likely they are going north again, Mighty One. If this water does not go straight to the redstone fortress, it must pass by it someplace that is but a short march from the water. That is where they will go, Lord.”
Gulo released him and sat pensively, licking the blood from his claw. “Well said. The Redwall place would be a wise refuge for my brother and his creatures.”
Eissaye was certain that Askor was not with those they were tracking, but he was not prepared to doubt Gulo’s supposition. “Aye, ’twill be as thou sayest, sire.”
Rakkety Tam stood watch at the stern of Log a Log Togey’s big logboat, gazing back upstream. Skipper joined him. “No sign of ’em followin’ yet, mate?”
Tam eyed the point of the bend they had just negotiated. “No, Skip, but ye can rest assured they’ll be on our trail soon enough. But we’ve got an advantage—we’re afloat on a pretty fast current, an’ they don’t have boats. This is the way to travel, eh?”