Rakkety Tam

25

It was still dark as a flotilla of logboats and rafts pulled into the bough-shaded bank. Rakkety Tam MacBurl, Doogy, Skipper, Ferdimond and Yoofus slipped ashore quietly. Guosim shrews held the other craft steady as the rest of the hares disembarked. Log a Log Togey joined them with his two scouts.

“Tam, this is Oneshrew an’ Twoshrew, my best trackers. They know where Gulo an’ his vermin are camped. They’ll lead ye there. Do wot ye got to do, then get out fast, mate. My trackers’ll take ye up to the pines where the black birds roost. The rest is up to you. Now when ye leave the pines, there’ll be bushland an’ a hill to the east. Beyond the hill is a fast-flowin’ river—make for it. I’ll be waitin’ there with my logboats for ye. Be lucky an’ don’t hang around in the pines, or those birds will peck the eyes outta yore ’ead afore ye can wink at ’em!”

Tam shook the shrew chieftain’s paw. “My thanks to ye, Togey. Corporal Wopscutt, get your hares to follow us in skirmishin’ order. Everybeast stick together. We can’t hang about for stragglers.”

Doogy and Ferdimond were up at the front, with Yoofus between them. The water vole panted and puffed; he did not like keeping up the rapid pace through the still-dark woodlands. “Ah sure, me ould limbs’ll be entirely ruinated wid all this dashin’ an’ gallopin’ about!”

Ferdimond lent a paw to pull him along. “Save y’breath, old lad, an’ let your paws do the runnin’.”

Doogy grabbed the thief’s other paw. “Och, ah’m fair grieved ye cannae stop tae sniff the daisies. Move yoreself, ye wee snail!”

Tam was at the head of the bunch with the shrews on either side of him. One of them beckoned him to slow down. “The vermin camp’s not far ahead. We best go careful now.”

The border warrior peered at the shrew in the grey haze which precedes dawn. “Right y’are, mate. Which are you, Oneshrew or Twoshrew?”

The tracker scowled as a hare ran into her back. “I’m Oneshrew. She’s me sister, Twoshrew.”

Wilderry commented, “Dashed funny names, wot?”

She was still scowling. “No funnier’n yores, matey. We came from a big family, so me daddy called us all by number.”

Yoofus was regaining his breath, yet he managed to quip, “An’ how many brothers’n’sisters did ye have, a few hundred?”

Twoshrew glared at him. “There was only twenny-six of us. Now shut yore face or the vermin’ll hear us!”

Dawn was just breaking when a vermin sentry came stumbling into camp. Clutching a swollen ear, the ermine tripped as he skirted the fire embers, shouting, “Mighty One! Quickly, sire!”

Gulo leapt up, brushing sparks from his fur. “What is it fool? Speak!”

The ermine sentry pointed as he babbled. “Over there, sire. ’Twas thy brother, I swear! There were others with him!”

Gulo grabbed the hapless sentry by the neck and swung him off the ground. The wolverine roared urgently, “Askor, ye say? Where . . . What happened?”

“Gye goz gust . . . gluuurggg!”

Realising that he was throttling the ermine, Gulo let go. The unfortunate vermin lay on the ground, nursing his throat with one paw and his ear with the other. “Mighty One, I was standing guard when I heard a noise behind me. As I turned, a big cloaked beast banged my head against a tree, sire. The others trampled over me as they ran off!”

Gulo towered over the quaking sentry, who he knew had been caught napping by the intruders. “How did ye know ’twas my brother? Did ye see him clear?”

The ermine scrabbled backward as he explained. “I did not see his face, Mighty One. But the size of him, it could have only been thy brother, sire. Aye, and when I saw the prints he left, they were the same as yours!”

Gulo thundered off in the direction the sentry had pointed. He spied the deep clawmarks with fur brushings at the edges and turned to bellow at his wakening followers. “Leave everything save your weapons! Hurry, Askor must not escape! Move! Move!”

Dawn sunlight penetrated the woodland mists as Tam and his band dashed headlong through ferns and bushes. They made no attempt to disguise their tracks, shouting aloud as they ran, “Askor! Askor! Askoooooor!”

Skipper lifted Yoofus from his broad shoulders, then kicked off the bulrush spikes attached to his footpaws. He ripped apart the two cloaks which had been sewn together, winking at Yoofus. “Well, matey, d’ye reckon that did the trick, eh?”

The volethief grinned. “Ah, ’twas a grand ould ruse, sir. But d’ye not think that a fine big beast like yerself could carry a poor, wornout water vole a bit further on those strong shoulders?”

The otterchief nodded readily. “Good idea, cully. I’ll carry ye ’til midday, then you carry me ’til sunset. Is it a bargain?”

Yoofus shook his head ruefully. “Ah, yer a dreadful plank-tailed ould hooligan, so y’are. An’ here’s meself thinkin’ ye were a kind friend!”

Vermin yells from not too far behind set them running pell-mell again. Doogy grabbed the volethief’s paw. “Ah wish’t MacBurl’d think up some plans that are a wee bit slower. Come on, ye wee laggard, afore ye become vermin vittles!”

Tam urged everybeast onward. Then he took up the rear with Corporal Wopscutt and Ferdimond, allowing the Guosim trackers to lead everybeast to the pines.

Butty speeded up as the vermin howls behind them grew louder. He smiled wryly at Tam. “Pretty desperate plan of yours, MacBurl. Let’s hope the black birds haven’t tootled off t’see their distant blinkin’ cousins, wot?”

Tam dropped back a pace. “No need to run so fast. We don’t want to lose Gulo’s mob, do we?”

Ferdimond slowed to match Tam’s pace. “You’re right there, old sport. Bit risky, though, ain’t it?”

The din from the vermin swelled louder through the trees; they were drawing closer. Tam laughed recklessly. “All the best plans are a bit risky, Ferdy. Mind those tree roots now, there’s a steep hill comin’ up.”

Unfortunately, neither Doogy nor Yoofus was within hearing of Tam’s remark. The water vole was gripping the Highlander’s paw tight as he tripped over a mess of protruding hawthorn roots. They cartwheeled sideways and shot off to the side, rolling downhill together. Crashing through bushes but luckily avoiding several big trees, the pair thudded down into a dried-up ditch, deep with seasons of leaf loam.

Dizzy and bruised, Doogy managed to sit upright, so that his head stuck out above the loam. He spat out a few dried leaves. “Ach, ye fiddle-pawed fool, why didn’t ye leggo of mah paw?”

The head of Yoofus emerged, with a crown of rotten leaves wreathing it. “Ah, give over, ye fur-tailed fibber. ’Twas yoreself that tripped, not me. Sure I only kept ahold of yore paw to try an’ stop ye fallin’. An’ that’s all the thanks I get? You squirrels are mis’rable ould things, sure enough. Whups, duck yore head quick!”

He pulled Doogy beneath the leaves as the vermin thundered past, yelling and shouting. When the sounds receded, they both sat up again. Doogy spat out more leaves. “Ah’m thinkin’ we’ve been dropped from Tam’s plan, eh?”

Yoofus sighed with relief. “Ah well, thank goodness for that! There’s an end to all that runnin’ like a madbeast.”

Doogy stood up but immediately had to sit down again, groaning in pain. “Agh! Ah think ah’ve broken mah footpaw!”

The water vole scrambled out of the ditch. He hauled his friend up and inspected the damaged limb. “Sure that’s never broken, ’tis only an ould pawsprain. An’ ye’ve chipped a claw. I can fix that up for ye!”

The Highlander sat there bemoaning his fate. “Ah’ve mised a braw fight, an’ we’re lost, an’ mah paw is achin’ fit tae beat the band!”

Yoofus smeared the paw with mud, laid dockleaves on and bound it firmly with ivy vines. “Will ye lissen to yoreself! Lost? I’m never lost in Mossflower. An’ as for missin’ any fightin’, what good would ye be with a wounded paw? Give yore ould gob a rest, mate. We’ll make out just fine!”

Doogy laughed mirthlessly. “Doin’ what?”

The thief wrinkled his nose mischievously. “Did ye not notice? The vermin left their camp to chase after us in a grand ould hurry. ’Twill be unguarded now an’ full of little gifts, just for me’n you, me ould tatercake!”

Doogy shook his head at the volethief’s audacity. “Och, ye don’t miss a trick, do ye? I like the idea o’ lootin’ the vermin camp. Yer a canny wee rascal, Yoofus!”

The water vole danced a little jig, rubbing his paws at the prospect. “Ah sure, there’s nothin’ grander than thievin’ from thieves. Lend me yore big knife now, an’ I’ll cut ye a crutch to stump along on.”

Passing over his beloved claymore, Doogy warned Yoofus, “Mind ye now, ah want that back!”

The thief’s face was the picture of injured innocence. “Ooh, pickle yore tongue, Doogy Plumm. Fancy sayin’ somethin’ like that to a friend like me!”

The Highlander watched Yoofus cutting a yew staff. “Rakkety Tam MacBurl’s the only true friend ah’ve ever had. Ah hope his plan’s workin’ out well for him right now.”

Tam noticed that the woodlands were not as dense and that the ground underpaw had become sandy. Oneshrew pointed through the thinning trees as they ran. “Ye can see the pines up yonder, look.”

Beyond the trees, a stretch of heathland spread up to a gentle rise, atop of which was a sizable area of pine trees. Tam, however, could see no rooks or crows hovering about them. He mentioned this to his Guosim guides. “I don’t see any of the black birds around those pines.”

Twoshrew assured him, “Don’t let that fool ye, sir. The villains are there, sure enough.”

Oneshrew agreed with her sister. “Aye, you just try enterin’ the trees, an’ you’ll see ’em alright!”

Corporal Butty Wopscutt cast a backward glance. “Birds or not, we’ll have t’go forward pretty sharpish, old chap. The foebeasts’ll be right on our tails in a few ticks. So what’s the plan, eh?”

Tam drew the sword of Martin. “We group together in a tight bunch. Everybeast with sword, spear or lance, hold your weapons point up. But only when I give the command, Up Arms! I want us to go in there like one giant hedgehog. Go slow across the heathland. I want Gulo an’ his vermin to see us, so they’ll speed up. The moment we’re in the pines, we’ll have to run twice as fast as the vermin. But remember, stay close together, keep your points up an’ charge right through that pine grove like a bolt o’ lightnin’. You shrews, stay out of the trees. Circle to the left, get to your Log a Log at the river an’ tell him to make the boats ready, ’cos we’ll be comin’.”

Wopscutt gripped his sword hilt as he gave the order. “Long Patrol—blades, spears’n’javelins at the ready! Advance in close order at a jog. . . .”

The younger hares were looking nervously over their shoulders. Behind them the roar of vermin was growing in volume. Catching sight of a white flash among the trees, Ferdimond knew that the foebeasts were not too far off. He was relieved to hear the corporal complete his command.

“Steady at the rear there! Long Patrol will advance!”