Suddenly the bend was upon them. Tam felt Log a Log Togey tense. Then the shrew warrior bellowed out his commands, “Starboard! Starboard! Push for yore life!”
Bracing his footpaws against the port bulkhead, Tam pushed until veins stood out upon his neck. Water was dashing into the logboats as shrews in the prows whirled ropes with grapnelled ends and cast them.
A hidden inlet, diguised by overhanging trees, was right around the bend. Tam felt the big logboat shudder as it turned sideways in the melee of water. He caught but a brief glimpse of the rocks on the right, looming up at the stern, before a powerful shock knocked him almost flat.
The shrew in the prow had thrown his rope, its grapnels thunking into the body of an ancient pine. Guosim shrews threw themselves upon the ropes, hauling madly. Logboats heeled almost onto their sides as the bounding current pounded them. Then they righted. Ropes thrummed tautly, and the boats were hauled swiftly into the tree-covered inlet.
Tam found himself soaked to the fur and gasping for breath, still gripping the tiller.
Log a Log Togey patted the warrior squirrel’s back, complimenting him. “We’ll make a streambeast of ye yet, Tam. Well done, mate!”
Then the Guosim leader turned his attention to the other boats. “All craft in now? Oars shipped an’ boats well hid?”
Skipper, whose logboat was the last to be hauled in, gave Togey a wave. “All craft in an’ tied up tight, Chief!”
One of the hares whispered to Threeshrew, “Rather neat, wot! D’you chaps do this often?”
Looking grim, she responded, “Nobeast ever tried it afore, we’re the first to do it. I thought we was all deadbeasts for a while back there.”
The young hare’s ears stood up rigid. “Good grief, y’might have told us ’twas your first time!”
Tam could not help but smile. “Would it have made any difference?”
Skipper murmured to Togey, “They should be here soon. Wot if’n they sees us as they pass by?”
The shrew chieftain shrugged. “Wouldn’t make any difference if we stuck our tongues out at ’em an’ sang rude songs, mate. They wouldn’t be able to stop. That tree’s headed for a waterfall so steep you can ’ardly see the bottom. Though if’n ye did, ye wouldn’t like it—the bottom of those falls is nothin’ but a big heap o’ rocks stickin’ up. Mark my words, Skip—Gulo an’ his scummy crew are all deadbeasts!”
As it happened, Gulo did not spot the hidden cove as the big willow trunk shot by. He was too busy lashing about at his vermin and yelling out over the din of wild water, “Faster! More speed! Keep going, ye idle fools!”
With nobeast to steer or otherwise control it, the huge bulk of the fallen tree continued to hurtle through the water as it went with the currents. Veering in to the right, the massive treetrunk eventually struck the enormous outcrop of rock, directly on the bend. Were it not for his powerful claws, which he had latched into the trunk after releasing his willow whip, Gulo would have died on impact.
Then disaster struck the tree, the shock of the collision turning it end to end. And it carried on—turning and turning and turning. . . . The wolverine and his terrified crew clung to the log, lost in a whirling chaos of water and rock, the sky revolving above them.
When Tam and Togey last caught sight of them, the vermin were gripping tight aboard the spinning log, screaming and yelling as it swept out of sight around the bend.
Log a Log Togey relaxed his hold on the tiller. “There’s about six more bends afore they reach the big waterfall. When they hit the bottom, there won’t be enough left of ’em to scrape up in a basket!”
Tam looked stunned, but he responded to the shrew’s remark. “Good riddance to bad rubbish, mate!”
Leaving the logboats securely moored to trees, they clambered ashore over the rocks. Guosim cooks found a convenient spot among the conifers to set up camp. There a fire was built, water fetched from the stream and wet garments set out to dry. Everybeast took their ease, weary after their ordeal on the wild waters, which could still be heard thundering along in the background.
Tam sat with Skipper and Togey, watching the westering sun setting distant trees into silhouettes tinged with purple and gold. The trio were silent, each with his own thoughts, until the shrew chieftain stroked his beard reflectively.
“Well, mates, a good end to a long, hard day, eh?”
Tam began slowly honing the blade of his dirk against a rock. “Aye, ’twas that, though I’ll wager Gulo the Savage had an even harder day on his journey to Hellgates. I never kept my vow to slay him, though.”
Skipper flicked drops of water from his rudder. “Ye ought to bless fate for that, Tam. We should thank Mother Nature for takin’ care o’ that one. I don’t think any ten beasts could’ve faced a monster like Gulo in combat. That ’un was a mad slayer an’ a flesh eater. Yore a warrior, Tam, but I don’t think you’d have stood a chance agin a beast like Gulo the Savage.”
The Borderer tested the edge of his blade. “We’ll never know now, will we?”
Sensing the challenge in Tam’s voice, Log a Log Togey changed the direction of the conversation. “Makes no difference now, mates. Ole Gulo’s out the way, an’ yore headed back to Redwall.”
Tam nodded. “First thing in the morning, an’ we’ll have to step out sharp. The Abbey’s probably under attack by half a hundred vermin—remember, Gulo split his forces.”
Skipper looked grim. “Yore right there. I ’ope our friends aren’t in any difficulties, I’d hate to think ole Humble or my young Brookflow was in any trouble. I expect you feel the same way about Sister Armel. Eh, Tam?”
The warrior looked surprised. “I hope they’re all safe an’ well, Skip. Why should I be particularly worried about the Sister?”
The otter chieftain chuckled. “Hah, you ain’t foolin’ anybeast, Rakkety Tam MacBurl. Everybeast noticed the way you two was gazin’ at each other an’ whisperin’ together!”
Suddenly Tam was lost for words. He was saved by the arrival of Lancejack Wilderry. “I say, you chaps, are you goin’ to sit there chunnerin’ away all blinkin’ evenin’, or d’you want some scoff?”
It was Guosim tradition that, whilst on campaign, the Log a Log was served first. Out of deference to the shrews, the Long Patrol hares observed this rule. Gathered around the spread the cooks had set out for them, both groups eagerly awaited Togey’s arrival, which would signal that it was time to dig into the feast. Upon his appearance, however, the shrew chieftain first had a few words to say.
“Comrades, this is a fine meal laid out for us. I want ye to enjoy it an’ give thanks for livin’ through today. Not just us Guosim, but you hares, too. We lost some fine friends today, good shrews an’ gallant hares. Our victory was gained, but at a price. So I want ye to give a moment’s silence an’ think of the ones who ain’t with us t’share these good vittles.”
In the silence that followed, the Guosim thought of their mates who had been lost whilst freeing the broadstream of the fallen willow. Many wept openly. The Long Patrol hares kept a stiff upper lip, but it was hard: they all had memories of gallant Corporal Butty Wopscutt, who had given his life for his friends. Tam thought of Butty, too; he had been very fond of the jolly corporal. At the same time, he could not help thinking of Doogy. Where was the little Highlander? Was he safe and well? Then his mind wandered to other things. His feelings for Sister Armel were just as Skipper had expressed them. Tam smiled to himself as he reflected on what an unlikely match they made—the warrior and the gentle healer!
The reverie was broken when a shrewcook held out a plate of stew, some rough bread and a beaker of shrewbeer to Tam. “Here y’are, matey. Get that lot inside o’ ye!”
As night fell over the waters and the woodlands, they did what warriors always did after a long hard day—ate well, drank heartily, told tales and, especially popular with the young hares of the Long Patrol, sang songs. One Merriscut Fieldbud, a haremaid with a trilling voice, entertained them with a barrack room monologue.