Sunflash and Skarlath had never tasted such good cooking. There was young onion and leek soup, hot brown bread spread with a paste made from beechnuts, a woodland salad, and a huge apple-and-greengage crumble. The crumble was a great favorite with the little ones, who spread it thick with honey.
Old Uncle Bhmn sipped piping hot soup from a wooden bowl gratefully. “Oi wurr feared oid waste away to an ole shadow. Gurr! Vittles do taste gudd arter all that unger!
Sunflash had an enormous appetite, but the good wives of Tiny and Bruff would not hear of him stinting himself.
“Allus plenty more, zurr, thurr be an ole woodland full o vittles for usns tchoose from now eeve set uz free!
And so Sunflash the Mace did full justice to the spread.
It was late into the night when he and the kestrel sprawled by the fire, warm, rested, and, for the first time in many a season, unable to eat another mouthful. The old mole. Auntie Ummer, hunted out a curious-looking instrument, a stout pole with bells, two strings, and a pawdrum attached to its base. She plucked the strings, jangled the bells, and tapped the drum with a footpaw. The babes, who were far too excited to sleep, began jigging and hopping around the fire, clapping their paws.
“Whurrhoo! Play ee gurdelstick! Whurrhoo!
Old Uncle Blunn began tapping his paws and chanting:
“Willy Nilly Nilly, Pod Pod Pod! All youm oglets stamp ee ground, Moi ole paws baint young loike yores. Show us ow ee damce around!
The gurdelstick music speeded up, and the little ones whirled and leaped, jigged and tumbled until they collapsed in a giggling heap, yelling for dandelion-and-burdock cordial. Tirry invited the friends to sing, but his guests declined, Skar-lath being too shy and Sunflash explaining that he had never learned a song, being in captivity most of his young life.
The homely hedgehog patted Sunflashs massive paw. “By me spikes, that is a shame! No matter, my Dearie as a voice like a lark at morn in a meadow, shell cheer you upl
Dearie Lingl had a jolly, clear voice, and she sang happily:
“I once ad a cattypillar come tlive with me,
We was both the best of friends as ever there cd be.
Hed wiggle round upon the ground, hed smile an shake my paw.
An every time that 1 went out, stop in an guard my door.
But men one time when I returned I cried out “Lack a day!
My little cattypiilar, he had left an gone away.
An there upon my mantelpiece a butterfly I saw,
Far too proud to speak to me, he flew right out the door.
Colored bright in warm sunlight, that creature winged away,
Ive never found my cattypillar to this very day.
Which makes me say unto myself, now I am old and wise,
I do like cattypillars, but I cant stand butterflies!
Laughter and applause greeted Dearies song. The two families were used to entertaining themselves, and there followed a whole repertoire of songs, poems, and dances. Then, as the fire was allowed to fall into embers, they took their rest in the warm, dim cave.
Sunflash had never been so happy and contented in his life. He hummed along as one of the small hedgehogs sang herself to sleep drowsily with a curious little chant:
“Arm not alas sand, way south in the west,
So star land a mat, theres where I love best,
Sand not as alarm, lone seabirds do wing,
And alas most ran, list to me whilst I sing.
Each time the babe reached the end of this strange ditty, she went back to the beginning and sang it again, her voice growing drowsier and drowsier until it was silenced by sleep. Something about the jumbled, meaningless words and the sad tune kept going round in Sunflashs mind. Finally he shook Tiny gently, and said, “Im sorry to disturb you, sir. Are you awake?
“Hm, mm, just about, friend, dyou need ought? “That song your little daughter was singing, what is it? “Oh, you mean the one with all the funny mixed-up words and the nice tune. Its an old thing that my Dearie learned from her mother, she probly learned it from her mother, and so on, way back. All our hoglets know it, pretty tune, silly verse.
Sunflash gazed into the glowing embers through half-closed eyes, and said, “I dont know why, but Id like to learn it.
Tinry smiled as he settled into a comfortable ball. “Ill tell the babes tomorrow, theyll be only too happy to oblige ye, sir.
4?
The seasons turned through spring and summer to a mellow autumn. In the highlands of the far east, Bowflegs drums beat Out their message of warning, while Swaitt and his ragged band of vermin traversed over tor and scrubland. The pounding drums sent word to three rat runners from Bowflegs camp, who took off at a swift lope, heading for a long cliff range that puckered the land like an old scar.
At the foot of the cliffs, bunched close like dirty thunderclouds, lay the tents of Bowfleg the Warlord. The runners halted beneath the purple pavilion awning of the sprawling tent at the hub of it all and prostrated themselves in front of the circular dais. Bowfleg lolled on his throne, peering at the messengers through the puffy eyelids of his swollen features. The old ferret grunted as he leaned his gargantuan bulk forward and asked, “Hwodd do de dromms say?
At the sound of the Warlords strange accent, the senior rat looked up and made his report. “Mighty One, the drums tell of Swartt Sixclaw coming hither with a band numbering not more than twoscore.
Bowfleg dismissed them with a snort. “Chah! Dadd one, de runaway, metink e be long dead!
A stoat Captain standing nearby leaned close to Bowfleg. “Sixclaw was always spoken of as a wildbeast, a strong fighter, even when he was very young. I would watch that one, Lord.
Bowfleg grabbed a roasted thrush from a side table and wrenched off a mouthful. “HSwartt, e can join my order-anks, de gudd fighter iss always of use. If nodd, I crosh im, like dis! The Warlord flattened the thrush carcass against his throne with a single blow of his clenched paw. “Bring im ere when e arrive!
The stoat Captain, whose name was Greenclaw, saluted smartly and marched off.
At mid-noon Swartt Sixclaw entered the camp of Bowfleg bearing giftsa carved spear, two belts studded with bright stones, a flagon of fine wine, and a drinking cup of silver. Swartt1 s small band were disarmed and kept outside under guard by a detachment of swordbeasts, each of whom wore a crimson tabard bearing Bowflegs insignia, a single white fang in a green circle. Greenclaw escorted Swartt into Bowflegs presence. The ferret knelt respectfully, noting the giant weasel who stood behind the Warlords throne.
The gifts were placed before Bowfleg, who turned them over with the point of his scepter. “Leave us now, he ordered Greenclaw. With a snort of contempt he looked at the young ferret kneeling before him. “When you young an cheeky, you tink you bettern Bowfleg, liddle runaway, gonna bring back mooch plunder. Nobeast cudd tell Swartt any tink den. Ho no, e knew everytink. Chah! Nodd mooch for one who hes away so long, eh?
Swartt could be a charmer when required. Smiling disarm-ingly, he looked up at the Warlord and shrugged. “I can go many places an see many things, but to learn real wisdom an courage I return to the master.
Bowflegs vast bulk shook as he laughed. “Kyahaha! Dadds gudd, you still know who hes master!
Swartt stretched forward and kissed Bowflegs footpaw. “How could I forget, Lordyou taught me all I know. I was young and foolish when I ran away from here. I am wiser now.
The Warlord beckoned Swartt to stand upright. “Im glad to see you godd more sense, budd dont tink you be wiser dan me. Anybeast feel like dadd soon hes dead!
Sixclaw turned aside so the other could not see his eyes. “I must remember that, Lordtoo much wisdom can be the death of a creature, very good!