Part 15 (1/2)
He threw the halter over a limb of the tree, tugging 166.
it slightly so that the miserable Pakatugg had to stand on tip-paws.
”As fer you, matey, you stand by 'ere. I'll need you on the morrow. Don't try any funny moves now, or there won't be only pears hangin' from this tree!”
Simeon stood upon the west wall ramparts with his friend the Abbot, as they did most evenings before turning in.
”More rain tomorrow, do you think, Simeon?”
”No, Bernard. It will be a fine hot summerday with hardly a cloud in the sky. The weather should stay fine for Mariel and her party. I wonder where they are now.”
”Who can say? Rus.h.i.+ng and das.h.i.+ng off on quests and adventures-it must be nice to be young and have all that energy.”
Simeon smiled. ”Talking about energy and youthful-ness, I think I hear Mellus coming from the woods with her party of Dibbuns. I hope their wildberry-gathering expedition was a success.”
Abbot Bernard folded his paws into the wide habit sleeves. ”Success or not, maybe it has tired them out and they'll sleep soundly tonight. Where are they now, Simeon?”
The blind herbalist inclined his head to one side, listening carefully. ”Just coming out of the woodlands slightly northeast of here. Can you see them yet, Bernard?”
”Ah yes. Poor Mellus looks as if she's had a full day of it. Rather her than me. I used to take them out when I was younger, but we never had a pair like those little otter twins Bagg and Runn then. Don't think I could put up with a full day's wildberry gathering in Mossflower with that pair. Mellus has seen us, she's waving.”
Simeon turned in the direction of the badger and 167.
waved back. ”Mother Mellus, how did the berry gathering go today?”
Mellus's gruff boom rang up from the path below. ”It was good, Simeon. I got some herbs that you may need too; arrowhead, motherwort, pennybright, oh, and some slippery elm bark.”
”Thank you, friend. I hope Bagg and Runn behaved themselves.”
”Surprisingly, they did. Those two collected more berries than the rest put together. That little mole Grubb was the naughty one today. The wretch covered me in stickybuds while I took my lunchtime nap, then he began eating the berries the other Dibbuns had collected and he tied three little mice's tails together with vines. Next time he can stay behind in the kitchens and help Friar Alder to peel vegetables. Where is he now? Hey, come back here, you little rip!”
Baby Grubb had run off in the opposite direction from the Abbey and was scuttling along at a fair rate. Away he went up the north path, chattering to himself.
”Burr, oim agoen' to foind a'ventures wi' Gully-whacker an' 'ee others.”
Mother Mellus broke into a shambling run. ”Come back this instant, you little rogue. You're going to bed!”
Grubb trotted off the path, into the woodlands. Gray-patch and Frink, hiding behind a broad oak, watched the infant mole unsuspectingly coming toward them. The searat Captain held a noosed rope ready.
”There ain't nothin' like a baby 'ostage to make things easy,” he whispered to his crewrat.
Grubb trundled along, oblivious to all about him. He needed a weapon if he was going to join the travelers on their adventure. Right next to the broad oak was a sycamore sprout, little more than a thin stick. Grubb began heaving and tugging upon it.
”Hurr, this'll do oi, 'ee'll make a gurt spearer, ho urr!
As Graypatch opened the noose to cast it over 168.
Grubb's head, Mother Mellus swept the tiny mole up with one huge paw, unaware of the searats.
”Got you, mischiefskin! Right, m'laddo, bed for you with no supper. What have you been told about pulling young trees up by the roots? Just wait until Abbot Bernard hears about this, you wretch!”
Graypatch had pulled back behind the oak. He and Frink held their breath as Mellus strode off with a loudly protesting Grubb under her arm.
”Boohurr, let oi go, missus. Oi wants a'ventures.”
”I'll give you adventures, you rip. Adventures in bed!”
”Gurr, when oi get ter be a biggun, oi'll spank 'ee furr thiz!”
Frink wiped his brow and sat down heavily. ”s.h.i.+ver me sails, Cap'n. Did you see the size of that ol' badger?”
”Did I? Now y'see what I said earlier is true, Frink. Careful is best. If we'd roped the liddle mole, that ol' badger would've done fer the pair of us with one swipe, you mark my words!”
At the open gate, Abbot Bernard carried Grubb inside. ”Come on, Dibbun Grubb, berry pie and custard for supper.”
”Burry poi an' cuskit, oh joy! But zurr, Ma Mellus says oi ain't a-getten none fer bein' pesky.”
The Father Abbot set Grubb down upon the lawn. ”Hmmm, did she? Tell you what, little Grubb. You can have some this time, but next time you're pesky it's straight off to bed without any. Go on, hurry and get washed up or it'll all be gone.”
Grubb smiled one of his most winning smiles at his benefactor. ”Oi knowed you wudden let a hinfant starve. You'm a gudd beast, zurr!”
Simeon joined the Abbot to follow up Mellus and her herd of Dibbuns.
”Ah, Simeon, smell that. Young c.o.c.kleburr makes 169.
the finest cornflower custard I've ever tasted. Can you smell it?”
Simeon looked pensive. ”Hmmm, I think my senses are trying to tell me something and it's not the smell of custard, Bernard. It's. . . . It's. . . . Oh, it's probably nothing, friend. Let's go inside. You're right, that custard does smell delicious.”
The four travelers stood facing the rock which reared up from the earth on the west side of the path. Mariel looked up at it.
”So that's the otter and his wife. I expected real otters, not a great lump of stone. Still, it does look very lifelike. I wonder who carved it.”
Tarquin rubbed his paw up and down the smooth brown rock. ”Somebeast must've done this when the land was young, more seasons ago than we could ever imagine. Jolly fine work, wot? I think the rock once looked naturally like an otter and his wife. Whoever did it only had to improve on what mother nature had already started, eh?”
Dandin nodded agreement. The rock was a sort of double lump, looking not unlike a male otter standing on his hindpaws with a female otter sitting at his side. Long ago some clever creature had carved the details of the otters' faces into the stone, giving them a very lifelike appearance.
The four friends made night camp at the base of the figures on the woodland side. Tinder and flint kindled a small fire. Tarquin, taking his turn as cook, decided on candied dried plums, sweet chestnut scones and dandelion cordial. They sat around the bright flames, which provided an island of golden light against the gloomy vault of the forest in front of them. Dandin recited the next stanza of the rhyme which provided guide rules for their quest.
170.
”Seek out the otter and his wife. Forsake the path, go westlands way, Find the trail and lose your life. When in the woods this promise keep, With senses sharp and open eyes, 'My nose shall not send me to sleep' For buried ones will surely rise.”
Durry Quill's eyes were drooping. He was beginning to nod.
”And frogs will fly on mayday morn, While fishes sing aloud at dawn.