Part 31 (2/2)
Martin leaned across the table and held Tungro's paw. ”Would you like to meet your uncle Warthorn?”
Tungro nodded wistfully. ”I'd love to, I've heard so many tales about him, but he'd left this holt long afore 1 was born. Do y'think I ever could meet Warthorn?”
”Certainly, my friend. Journey to Redwall with us, and you will.”
A few days later, Log a Log Furmo's large fierce wife, Honeysuckle, was coping with her brood on the stream-bank of their summer camp. Energetically she scrubbed at the wriggling body of her eldest.
”Be still, you liddle worm. I'll teach ye to roll about in that midden of a water margin, filthy shrew!” Flicking out with a wet rag, she caught another young one a stinging slap across the tail. ”Git yore paws away from those scones, or I'll chop y'tail off an' bake ye in a pie. Go on, be off with you!”
Four tiny shrewmaids came das.h.i.+ng along the bank, squeaking, ”Mamma mamma, daddy's comin' in a big boat wiv a sail!”
Honeysuckle grabbed the nearest one. ”Just lookit the bankmud on that smock, an' it was clean on this very morn. Go an' git a fresh one off'n yore granma, not one of those off the rock ledge, they ain't dry yet. So, the great rovin' Log a Log's decided to come home again, has he?”
Furmo's deep rich voice hailed her from upriver. ”Honeysuckle, me precious! I'm back, O dew of me life!”
She scowled at Furmo, standing heroically in the prow of the skiff as it sailed insh.o.r.e. Twirling the corner of a face cloth, she wiggled it down the ear of the little shrew she was attempting to clean up. ”Back at the end o' summer, my darlin'; I'll return on the first autumn mist, O jewel o' the woodlands. What time d'ye call this t'be gettin' back, you great useless lump o' Guosimfur, eh?”
Gonff sprinted ash.o.r.e, with two shrews in his wake, carrying a carved otter footstool and several strings of Dunehog quills and beads in various gaudy colors. He pointed to the name plate on the skiff's bow, planting a genteel kiss on the shrew wife's sud-covered paw.
”O beauteous beast, yore spouse brings ye gifts from afar, an' all borne on a fine vessel that carries yore own fair name. He has done nought but pine f'you night'n'day!”
Honeysuckle melted immediately in the face of Gonff's gallantry. Fluttering her eyelids, she gave him a playful shove, which sent him sprawling in the shallows.
”Oh, mister Gonff, you ole flatterer, fancy callin' that luvly s.h.i.+p after me. Wotever gave you the idea?”
The Prince of Mousethieves stood up, shaking water from his rear end, still spouting eloquently. ” 'Twas all your good Furmo's idea, m'lady. We wanted to call the boat Gullyivacker, Gullyivacker, but he wouldn't hear of it. No no, sez he, we must call it but he wouldn't hear of it. No no, sez he, we must call it Honeysuckle Honeysuckle after my beloved!” after my beloved!”
Furmo gasped as Honeysuckle grabbed him from the prow and squeezed the air from his lungs in a mighty embrace.
”Ow ow, I wronged you, me dear one, forgive me. All these wunnerful things you brought back for yore wife. Ow ow, I could cut out me tongue for wot I said about you!”
Furmo managed to gasp out in a stifled mutter, ”Cut yore tongue out? No such luck, more's the pity!”
She dropped him in the shallows. ”Wot was that you said?”
Furmo scrambled up, thinking quickly. ”I said, 'Cut yore tongue out? No no, my duck, yore far too pretty!'”
Vurg and his friends were greatly taken with the shrewbabes, but none more so than Beau. The gluttonous hare allowed the tiny creatures to feed him vast amounts of food at the noontide meal.
”Can you eat more plum pudden, sir?”
”Just try me, laddie. Shove it this way, wot!”
”My mamma maked this salad, sir, d'you like it?”
”Rather! What a clever lady your mamma is. Fill m'bowl up again, there's a good little tyke!”
”D'you like apple'n'pear turnover, sir?”
”Like it? Steer it in my direction, y'young tailwagger, an' I'll show you whether I like it!”
Honeysuckle perched gingerly on the footstool, which she thought was a small chair, casting a jaundiced eye in Beau's direction.
”I'd hate t'be standin' next to that long-eared rabbit in a famine season. Where does he put it all? No thanks to you, Gonff, you fetched 'im 'ere, an' that tribe o' starvin' otters, too. We'll soon be eaten out o' house'n'home!”
Gonff tweaked the shrew wife's cheek slyly.
”Well, me beauty, you don't want vittles goin' stale in the larder. Not while yore away on the nice trip that Furmo's planned for you!”
”Trip? Furmo never told me about no trip.”
”Aha, that's 'cos he wants to surprise you, pretty one. How d'you fancy a nice boat trip to Redwall Abbey?”
”Ow ow, bless 'is good 'earl, is there nothin' Furmo wouldn't do fer me? Wot a wunnerful thoughtful beast 'e is!”
Furmo waggled a paw in his numbed ear. ”Oh, give yore wailin' a rest an' pa.s.s the beer.”
”Wot was that you said, Furmo Log a Log?”
”I said, 'My love's unfailin', nothin' but the best for you, my dear!'”
, Squeaks of fright from the little ones caused Martin to leap up, sword in paw. A dark shadow circled overhead, suddenly dropping like a stone into their midst. The great goshawk, Krar Woodwatcher, folded his wings and bowed courteously.
”Oh joyous day, thou hast returned to my fiefdom, Prince of Mousethieves, and thou, too, Martin Warrior of Redwall.”
Gonff nodded formally, with appropriate regal disdain. ”Lackaday, sirrah, have thou a care, landing in such manner 'mongst the babes of Furmo, our faithful va.s.sal!”
Krar lowered his beak to the ground in the face of such royal displeasure from the Prince of Mousethieves.
”Alas, 'twas not my intention to affright the babes thus, Prince. My hasty landing was prompted by a desire to be in company with thee an' thy n.o.blebeasts once more.”
Martin allowed his footpaw to touch the lethal beak. Krar did not see him exchange a wink with Gonff.
”I pray you, Prince Gonff, be not wrathful with our friend Woodwatcher. For we know him to be a good an' honest bird. Tarry with us, Krar, there are victuals aplenty here.”
The huge fierce goshawk awaited Gonff's decision. Sensing he had pushed his luck far enough with the dangerous bird, Gonff smiled magnanimously, patting the ground at his side.
”I spoke in haste. Come, sit thee beside me, my faithful friend. It comes to my mind that one who battled with a swan in our defense must surely be worthy of our hospitality!”
Honeysuckle nudged Furmo, almost knocking him over. ”D'ye hear that? Why don't you learn to speak like Gonff an' Martin? Proper gentlebeasts they are!”
Beau sat watching in open-mouthed admiration as food vanished down Krar's beak at an alarming rate.
”Great seasons o' starvation, d'you suppose that chap'll be able to fly when he's finished scoffin', wot wot?”
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