Yoofus tried a weak smile, which faded on his lips. Even Rockbottom shook his head in disgust.
The raft had been slowly drifting forward, but now it ground to a halt with a bump. A huge, rotted beech trunk blocked their way; beyond it the stream was a mere trickle. Doogy flung his pole into the water, wrinkling his nose at the odour which arose from it.
Didjety began to weep, throwing her pinafore over her face. “Oh Yoofus, how could ye do this to us?”
Doogy rolled the drum onto the solid bank ground and placed the tortoise upon it decisively. “Dry yer tears, marm, an’ come ashore with me. Ah’ll try tae find us a way out o’ this without that lyin’ buffoon ye call a husband!”
He lifted the volewife onto the bank, passing the supplies to her and glaring at Yoofus. “An’ as for ye, mah foolish friend, y’can shift for yerself. Ah can stan’ yore thievin’ an’ lyin’ no longer!”
As darkness fell over the woodland depths, a small fire made an island of light in the gloom. Doogy, Didjety and Rockbottom gathered around the flames, roasting sausages on sticks and drinking beakers of the volewife’s plum and gooseberry cordial.
Didjety glanced anxiously at the Highlander. “I wonder where Yoofus has got to. D’ye suppose he’s alright, Mister Plumm?”
Doogy jiggled a hot sausage from paw to paw, breaking off a piece and tossing it to Rockbottom. “Och, ah wouldnae bother mah head about him, marm. Ah can hear him out there watchin’ us. He’ll come tae no harm, an’ mebbe he’ll learn a lesson or two, eh?”
The volethief’s voice came through the trees to them. He sounded lonely and forlorn. “Ah, ’tis a sad thing t’be left to die alone in this ould forest, an’ all because of one liddle mistake. Sure, an’ it must be grand for some I know—sittin’ round a nice warm fire an’ feedin’ their gobs on sausages an’ cordial while the likes of meself is cast out into the wilderness to be et by flies an’ die of the hunger an’ drought. I must’ve led a wicked life to come to this!”
He sounded so pitiful that Didjety had to wipe a tear from her little tortoise’s eye.
Doogy heaved a sigh. “Och, ye may as well call the roguey in, marm.”
Before the volewife could say anything, Yoofus dropped out of a tree to sit beside her, grinning from ear to ear. “Top o’ the evenin’ to ye, mates! Pass me a sausage, will ye, me ould darlin’ daisy? I’m dyin’ fer the lack o’ vittles. Doogy, me luvly friend, how are ye?”
The Highlander passed him a beaker of cordial before responding. “None the better for yore askin’, thief. Now understand this! Ah’m leadin’ the way from now on, ye’ve got no say in it. If’n ah want tae get lost, ah can do it without yore help. You just roll that drum along an’ follow me!”
Yoofus saluted several times, nodding in agreement. “Ah, sure yore right, sir. Orders are orders, an’ ’tis me faithful self who’ll be carryin”em out. Isn’t he right, Didjety, me liddle rosebud?”
The volewife slammed a hot sausage into her husband’s smiling mouth, leaving him spluttering. “Oh, Mister Plumm’s right, sure enough. One more word from yore fibbin’ lips, Yoofus Lightpaw, an’ ye don’t get another bite to eat or drink from me. Is that clear now?”
Yoofus patted Rockbottom’s head and fed him the sausage. “Hoho, me liddle pal, that one’s not a creature to argue with. Ah, cheer up now an’ I’ll sing ye all a grand ould song about a pore mouse who had a shrewish wife.”
Doogy’s paw strayed dangerously close to his sword hilt. “No ye won’t. Ye’ll eat that supper an’ go tae sleep!”
Yoofus collapsed backward, saluting as he did. “Go t’sleep, sir. Orders is orders, right y’are!”
Like a broken silver coin, a half-moon shone down on the small group sleeping around the glowing embers of the fire. Doogy lay wrapped in his plaid, wondering if he would ever again see his friend Tam, or walk through the welcoming gates of Redwall Abbey.
33
The broadstream was running so furiously that there was little need of oars, though the Guosim held them ready to fend off their vessels from rocks and to keep the logboats in midstream.
Tam sat in the stern of Togey’s big boat, his paws clenched tight to the gunnels. He gazed about in awe: to his right, high limestone cliffs towered over the waters; to his left, rocks were broken into large chunks, overgrown by trees and vines. He realised they were speeding down an ever-narrowing slope, which concentrated the stream so greatly that little could be heard but the roaring of water. A fine spray enveloped everybeast.
Log a Log Togey sat beside Tam, his eyes narrowing against the rushing spray. The shrew chieftain manoeuvred the tiller skilfully with one paw whilst signalling directions to the other logboats in his wake. They were travelling ahead of the other boats.
Tam glanced back upstream, shouting to Togey, “No sign of Gulo an’ the vermin, mate!”
Togey called back, “Keep yore eyes peeled on that left bank. That’s the route they’ll be followin’.”
Skipper was in the last logboat. He balanced upright, steadying himself on his broad rudder as he peered back upstream. His keen eyes caught movement. Pointing, he roared at the top of his voice, “They’re on the river, comin’ fast this way!”
Tam and Log a Log both turned to look. In their wake, the broad stream resembled a single long and narrowing avenue. In the distance, the big willow trunk was thundering downstream, loaded with vermin. Gulo could be seen standing high amid the roots which formed the prow. The wolverine was gesturing madly as he exhorted his crew to paddle with branches and spears. Tam’s first reaction was one of alarm. The huge tree seemed to be gaining on them, travelling at a very fast pace indeed. Log a Log Togey nudged a nearby shrew. Together they studied the unusual craft racing along in their wake. Then they held a hasty whispered conference, both smiling and nodding.
The Borderer looked enquiringly at the Guosim chieftain. “What’s so funny, mate?”
Togey pointed ahead. There was a turn coming up in the distance where a massive rocky outcrop poked out into the water. He put his mouth close to Tam’s ear. “Wait’ll we round that curve, an’ you’ll see!”
He waved to the other logboats, pointing to the curve and nodding off to the left. They signalled back that they had understood the order. Immediately all the Guosim crews dipped their oars and began paddling strongly with the headlong current. All the logboats shot forward.
Lancejack Wilderry was seated in the prow of the big front boat. He became so exhilarated by the sudden turn of speed on the wild waters that he rose up, roaring, “Eulaliiiiiaaaaa! Let ’er go, chaps!”
A stern old shrew shoved the young hare down, clambering over him to crouch in the very peak of the prow. “Keep yer ’ead down, matey. I gotta watch out fer the Chief’s signals. Stay out o’ me way now!”
The hares in all the boats had drawn their weapons at first, thinking that Gulo and his vermin might overtake them. But when it became obvious that he would not, they put up their arms and clung tight to the gunnels, their ears blowing out straight behind them as the logboats skimmed over the boiling waters. The shrews in the prows of other boats began uncoiling stout ropes with grappling hooks attached. Log a Log and Tam watched as the foebeasts tried to put on more speed. Gulo, lashing about with a long, whippy willow bough, exhorted them to greater efforts.
Togey shouted to Tam above the watery din, “Grab this tiller with me. Now when I call starboard, you push it t’the right with all your might. Got that?”
Tam nodded, repeating the instruction. “Starboard, push to the right!” He set both paws on the tiller, gripping it fiercely.