‘They took us to a land begirt with pestilential marshes,’ he declared, ‘and penned us in for an eternity. Our life there was dreadful and many lost hope, but fortunately I was able to escape. I made my way through the wilderness until I reached your bounteous pastures, where finally I felt safe again.’
Now the crowd stirred a little, as people remembered the day when Hippo first appeared, and how some had treated him better than others. No doubt he’d embellished parts of his story to achieve greater effect, but just as likely it contained a substantial element of truth. There was much murmuring amongst my fellow spectators, and I sensed a general feeling of apprehension. Moreover, I was rather disquieted by Hippo’s reference to men in iron helmets. Horsefall’s henchmen were standing in clusters here and there, and they’d shown no reaction whatsoever to the remark; neither had Thomas, who was observing the meeting from beneath his canopy. Nonetheless, I couldn’t help reflecting that a few secrets were being kept. These, in turn, posed some unanswered questions.
In the meantime, Hippo’s speech was nearing its conclusion.
‘You should beware the depredations of outsiders,’ he said. ‘You may think that it couldn’t happen here, but I assure you it’s quite possible, especially if you’re divided amongst yourselves.’
Now he raised his finger and pointed northward.
‘That wall of turf,’ he proclaimed, ‘will divide and weaken you! You must tear it down at once!’
The entire crowd roared in acclamation, but at the same instant there came an even louder sound. A flash of lightning was followed immediately by the crash of thunder, and I looked up to see a vast rain cloud rolling in from the south-west. People began scattering in all directions, leaving only a handful of diehards gathered around the wooden platform.
‘Quick, Hippo!’ cried Isabella. ‘You must get into some shelter!’
She tried to shepherd him towards the shimmering white tent, but he resisted her efforts.
‘My work is not yet complete,’ he said.
‘Well, it’ll just have to wait,’ she replied. ‘Come on!’
‘But I can’t intrude on you and Thomas.’
Heavy drops of rain were now falling everywhere. Isabella thought for a few moments, then dashed inside and returned with a neatly folded crimson bundle.
‘Here,’ she said briskly, ‘you can have my tent.’
Before Hippo could protest she added that she was conferring it upon him as a gift, and as such it could not be declined. Under her supervision, the crimson tent was then swiftly erected by several helping-hands. It stood on the very spot where the meeting had been held, and as the rain fell it seemed to gleam in the fading light. Hippo thanked Isabella and immediately took sanctuary within.
Everybody else made for the comfort of their own tents, at which point Hogust discovered that his boat had been impounded. He paced about on the landing stage, soaking wet, and was informed by Hollis that his vessel would only be returned when he paid the outstanding fee.
‘But I never carry cash,’ Hogust protested. ‘I don’t believe in it.’
‘No,’ replied Hollis, ‘I don’t suppose you do.’
‘So could you let me off just this once?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘Why?’
‘Because if I let you off I’d have to let everybody else off as well,’ said Hollis, ‘and that wouldn’t be very fair, would it?’
‘Sounds fair enough to me,’ said Hogust.
Despite his desperate appeals, he was getting nowhere. Hollis (who was clad from head to foot in waterproofs) refused to make any concessions, and eventually Hogust was obliged to scramble over the turf wall and scamper home on foot.
He wasn’t the only one caught in the rain. My tent suddenly looked a very long way away, and as I slogged northward I noted grimly that the upper field was receiving more than its fair share of the deluge. I suppose I could have sought temporary refuge with Hen, or even Brigant, but instead I pressed on until I reached my lonely outpost. Thankfully it was dry inside, so I settled down and waited for the evening to pass. After a while I began pondering Hippo’s speech, and debating whether anybody would obey his instruction to tear down the turf wall. Given the practicalities, I decided that the answer was ‘probably not’. It was all very well for the multitude to applaud and cheer Hippo’s commandment, but I doubted if they realized how much hard work the job entailed. This, of course, was something I knew from experience. Furthermore, they needed to understand that it wasn’t simply a matter of shovelling the earth back into the trench. On the contrary, each successive layer had to be carefully tamped down flat: otherwise there’d be a surplus left over when they’d finished. Such a task required proper organization with somebody in overall charge. Obviously I had no intention of offering my services, but conceivably the challenge might be taken up by Hartopp and Hogust. Both were capable enough. Considering their previous differences, however, I concluded that the chances of a working partnership were slim.
The rain continued until the following day, and when it finally ceased there was no more gentle autumn sunshine. The sky remained grey and overcast, with a cold, damp wind blasting in from the west. Around mid-morning I went to see how the trench had coped with the downpour, and I knew at once that it had functioned most effectively. Along its entire length lay damp nettles which had been flattened by the force of the rainwater. In addition, a glance towards the south-east told me that although the ground was wet and muddy, it was far from being waterlogged. In fact, people were going about their daily business with little or no inconvenience. Apparently the drainage scheme had been a success, and it occurred to me that at last my argument was proved to be true. All the talk about divisive walls, defensive ramparts and so forth could finally be laid to rest in the name of common sense!
Or so I thought.
I was standing by the trench feeling rather pleased with myself when I heard a distant voice being raised in anger.
‘Why hasn’t the work begun yet?’ it demanded. ‘You must not delay a moment longer!’
The voice I recognized as Hippo’s, and he was roaming amongst the tents rousing his supporters into action. Soon afterwards, they appeared on the embankment armed with all sorts of implements (spades, shovels, pick-axes, rakes and hoes) and started hacking at it inexpertly. I watched in dismay as large clods of earth went tumbling into the trench.
The frenzied attack was quickly joined by Hogust’s men, and their approach to the job was equally amateurish. Rather than tackle it properly, they were more interested in competing with the southerners in an orgy of destruction. Laughing and joking, they swung their picks and thrust their spades into the embankment, which was now beginning to look very battered and torn. At this point Hartopp came marching along the trench. He was attempting to restore some order to the situation.
‘No, no!’ he shouted. ‘You’re doing it all wrong! You have to pack the earth down properly!’
Needless to say, his advice fell on deaf ears. Hordes of new recruits continued to arrive, seemingly intent on levelling the embankment as swiftly as possible. I noticed, however, that some were more enthusiastic than others; and that the less zealous among them had to be cajoled and prodded by Horsefall’s men to make them strive harder.
My second observation was more striking. I suddenly realized that Hippo had failed to join the workforce. During the morning I’d heard him exhorting the masses to apply themselves with might and main, but thereafter he’d been conspicuous by his absence. I later discovered that he’d spent the rest of the day lounging around his newly acquired crimson tent, receiving visits from Thomas and Isabella, and generally avoiding any kind of toil.