Brian Jacques - Rakkety Tam

The two young hares beamed, shoving their chests out fit to burst and saluting several times.

“You can jolly well rely on us, sah!”

“Rather! Y’won’t regret this, sah! Thanks absolute bags!”

Sergeant Wonwill’s stentorian bellow rang round the camp. “Come on, ye sloppy idle creatures. Let’s ’ave yew formed up in ranks ready t’march h’immediately, if not sooner! Front an’ rear markers, meself an’ Derron! Flankers’ll be Wopscutt an’ Wilderry! Nah then, me lucky babes, yore goin’ to double-march so blinkin’ ’ard that yore paws’ll push ’oles inter the rocks. Straighten up those backs, look smart! Anybeast droppin’ or losin’ a weapon on the march will be on a fizzer! Do yew ’ear me, Folderon, Flunkworthy an’ Flummerty? Don’t answer that question—eyes front, ye blushin’ beauties! Long Patrol! By the right . . . Quick double. . . . Maaaaaaarch!”

Brigadier Crumshaw marched out sprightly, ahead of the flag. It was a straight, rapid pace, and he had forbidden all noise and singing for obvious reasons. However, as the commanding officer, he sang a little verse from an old song he had learned during his young seasons in the ranks. Unaware of the smiling faces behind him, the youngest of whom thought that brigadiers and officers were born full blown, with resounding voices and moustaches, Crumshaw smiled to himself as he recalled his younger days, singing away.

“To Hellgates or to glory, away we march in style.

Each warrior hare without a care,

we’ll see ye in a while.

No time for tears or droopy ears,

or blades to lay and rust.

As off we roll, the Long Patrol,

an’ stragglers eat our dust!”

18

Yoofus Lightpaw was really enjoying himself. He lay flat on the high bough of an alder, watching Gulo the Savage and his vermin band scouring the woodlands beneath. The water vole was not only an expert thief but also a clever tactician. He knew that when he left the vermin camp carrying the objects he had stolen, the white foxes and ermine would be on his trail. So Yoofus left them a trail, not back to his dwelling on the lakeside but to a clear track to the east. It delighted him to play games: he would leave marks of the swordpoint scraping and the banner brushing. From his various secret spots throughout Mossflower, Yoofus would watch them getting more frustrated. Little did he realize that the trail he was leaving resembled that of a wolverine!

Fools and idiots—thinking that they were tracking him to his home! As long as they followed, Yoofus Lightpaw would lead them on a merry trail, and whenever they halted at night, he would sneak into their camp and steal some more booty.

Yoofus watched the vermin, figuring out his next move whilst murmuring softly to himself. “Ah, come on now, ye great thick-headed gobeens! I’ll be drawin’ rings around ye, an’ ye’ll never know how t’play me game. Sure, I think a little jaunt over the ditch an’ across the ould path is called for. That’ll wear yore paws down a bit. Ye’ll sleep all the better for it tonight, while I’m robbin’ ye!”

After the vermin had moved on, Yoofus came down from his perch. He could hear Gulo berating his creatures threateningly. “Gaarrr! Addlepates, bumblers! Find that trail, or ye’ll be leaving a trail of your own blood if ye try my patience further!”

Yoofus cut off in an arc, crossing the ditch and path ahead of the vermin scouts. He artfully laid fresh marks on the east side of the woodlands, scarring one or two trees with his stolen sickle blade and bruising some low bushes whilst dragging the flag over the grass. Then he backtracked to the path, shinned up a thick crack willow tree and peered at the leading scouts who were blundering about only a few spearlengths short of the ditch. Snapping the string on one of his purloined necklaces, the crafty water vole tossed shells and coloured stones down onto the path. He saved a few of the biggest beads and placed them in the tongue of his sling.

Grik, the ermine tracker, was foraging a few paces ahead of the rest when an amber bead struck him lightly on the footpaw. “Over here, he passed this way, look!”

The white fox captain, Urfig, rushed past Grik, scrambling his way over the ditch and onto the path. “Look, shells and beads! These are off my necklet. Dirig, hurry an’ tell Mighty Gulo that I have found the trail again. Methinks it goes east into this forest!”

In a short time, Gulo and his beasts were into the east forest, discovering the clues which Yoofus had left them.

The volethief descended from the willow, chuckling. “Off y’go now, ye ravin’ eejits, run y’selves ragged around the trees. Sure I’ll pay yez a call tonight, while yore all asleep!”

Yoofus recrossed the path and climbed down into the ditch. He settled down in safety to take a nap. Scarcely had he closed his eyes when he heard the sound of somebeasts coming down the path from the north. Keeping low, the water vole peered over the ditch edge.

Armel and Brooky had rope halters about their necks. Ferwul and Brugil, the two ermine scouts, were leading them. The squirrelmaid and the ottermaid were well hemmed in by Captain Shard and the rest of the vermin. The group halted, right opposite where Yoofus was crouching in the ditch.

Staring at the signs of recent disturbance on the path’s other side, Brugil seemed slightly bewildered. “Lord Gulo has taken the others east into these woodlands. But I thought that he was going to the Redwall place.”

Ferwul muttered under her breath, “Aye, an’ I thought we were ordered to go there also.”

Shard’s mate, Freeta, clipped the ermine scout’s ear sharply. “Thou art not here to think. Lord Gulo will wrest all the information he needs from these two—they are from the Redwall fortress. See how they are garbed alike?”

The white fox captain cut in abruptly. “Cease squabbling and lead on, you scouts. We go to join the Mighty Gulo!”

Shard let them go forward into the trees while he hung back with Freeta, whispering to her, “Say nought to Gulo, or anybeast, about this!”

Drawing his cloak back slightly, he revealed the cloth case enclosing Martin’s sword, which he had snatched from Armel.

The vixen touched her muzzle slyly. “The sword is far too valuable for others to see. It is our secret!”

Then Shard and his mate proceeded to follow the rest of the vermin gang east into Mossflower.

Yoofus relaxed. He sat down and took some food from a small wallet he carried on his belt. The volethief munched on his rations whilst he analysed what he had just witnessed. Yoofus often held conversations with himself; he found it easier to think that way.

“Ah now, the fox was right, indeed. Those maids both come from the Abbey. I’ve seen them meself when I’ve visited there t’borrow some o’ the grand ould fruit from their orchard. Sure they’re cunnin’ things, those foxes. I wonder what the big ’un had under his cloak? Well, no matter, I’ll find out this very night, when I pays him a visit. But ’tis a bit o’ shuteye I’m needin’ now, just to keep me wits sharp after dark.”

The little thief was never troubled by conscience. In a short time he was snoring like an innocent Dibbun, wrapped snugly in the flag, curled up on the ditch bed amid last autumn’s leaves, far from the questing vermin.

It came as a rude awakening when the point of a claymore tipped his nose. Two tough-looking squirrels, a hare and a hawk were standing over him.

Ever the quick-witted one, Yoofus smiled up at them. “Ah, isn’t it a grand ould day, t’be sure, sirs? Don’t mind me now, I’ll not block yore way. Just step over me tired carcase an’ carry on t’wherever yore bound!”