Brian Jacques - Rakkety Tam

The water vole turned to the weasel, pretending to be terrified. “Ah now, y’won’t hurt us, sir. We’re just pore travellers, harmless as a pair o’ butterflies, that’s us. So go easy.”

The weasel took Yoofus’s new sash, cackling to his cronies, “Go easy, eh? Ho yarrrr, we go easy, sure nuff!”

The others dived on Yoofus and Doogy’s loot, fighting and scrabbling. The weasel kicked and bit at them, loading most of their gear onto two of the rats. “Carry diss, me say who gets wot. Bring fancybeasts along!”

The pair allowed themselves to be prodded and pushed through the undergrowth by the vermin. Doogy tried to keep his volatile temper in check, whispering to Yoofus, “If yon wee rat keeps ticklin’ mah tail with his spear, he’ll be wearin’ it as a nose ornament afore he’s much older. Where in the name o’ fur are they takin’ us?”

Yoofus noted the direction in which they were travelling. “Ah, never fret, me ould tater, I think we’re bound to my ould neighborhood. If I gets the chance, I’ll take ye to my neat liddle home, an’ ye can visit with me darlin’ wife Didjety. Ouch! Will ye be careful with that ould spear, sir! Me backside’s smartin’ enough as it is!”

They were over half a day marching through wood and fenland, until they began following a streambank to the southwest.

Yoofus smiled. “Ah sure, an’ wasn’t I only right, Doogy Plumm? We’re almost back on me ould patch. Seasons be praised for those fine vermin, carryin’ all our stuff an’ totin’ that big heavy drum o’ mine for us. Aren’t the thick- ’eaded duffers a grand ould crew?”

The weasel snarled at the water vole, “Yew shurrup ya mouth ’an go disaway!”

He led them to a hole at the base of an elm. It sloped down into a big roomy cave, whose walls and ceiling were part of the tree’s root complex. Four vermin were inside—two ferrets and two more rats. There was also a family of dormice—two adults and five little ones. The cave had once been their tidy home, though now it was in a mess, owing to the vermin occupation.

The male dormouse recognised Yoofus straightaway. “Mister Lightpaw, what are ye doin’ here?”

The water vole winked at him. “Hush now, Mister Muskar, don’t ye go crackin’ on that ye know me!”

The weasel glared at Yoofus. “Youse two knows each odder, yarr?”

The volethief shook his head vigourously. “Who, me, sir? Sure I never met the feller in me life. Ask his good missus, she’ll tell ye. Ain’t that right, marm?”

Mister Muskar’s wife, Lupinia, was stirring a cauldron of stew over the fire. She winked at Yoofus, showing she was far quicker on the uptake than her husband. “Oh, er, no, we’ve never had the pleasure. Pleased t’meet you, I’m sure. I’m Lupinia Muskar. That’s my husband Muskar Muskar, and these are our young ’uns—Pippat, Gretty, Wortle, Berrin and Bappik. Say hello to the nice gentlebeast who we’ve never met, m’dears!”

The young dormice caught their mother’s look and called out as one, “Hello, Yoofus!”

Doogy watched Lupinia pull bread and a batch of scones from the oven by the fire. He sniffed the stew appreciatively. “Ah must say, that smells very good, marm!”

The rat who had been prodding Doogy sniggered. “Dat’s not fer yew, fancybeast!”

He poked the Highlander’s tail again with the stone-tipped pole. Doogy looked pointedly at the water vole. “Dearie me, ah reckon ah’ve took enough o’ this nonsense!”

Yoofus smiled politely at the dormouse couple. “Would ye not like to take the babbies outside to play for a while?”

As is typical of many father dormice, Mister Muskar was fairly dim-witted. Clearly not having caught on, he blinked and scratched his stomach as he replied, “Er, it’ll be their bedtime soon.”

His wife gathered the young ones together. “Do as the goodbeast says, dear. Let’s take them outside into the fresh air for a bit.”

A sly kick to her husband’s paw set things right. “Oh, er, outside, yes, why not? Still some daylight left.”

The weasel nodded toward the food. “Worrabout dose vikkles, eh?”

Yoofus reassured him fawningly, “Ah, don’t get yore tail in a knot, sir. Sure we’ll serve ye. Won’t we, mate?”

Doogy grinned widely. “Och, ye can wager yore bad teeth on that, mah friend. We’ll serve ye, sure enough!”

The weasel pointed at Doogy. “Wot ’e says?”

The water vole chuckled. “He says he’s highly delighted t’be servin’ ye, sir. ’Twill be a meal like ye’ve never had before. So sit yoreselves down now.”

Lupinia and her husband sat watching their young ones by the streambank. The young dormice were making small twigboats with leaves for sails and floating them on the water.

Mister Muskar expressed his confusion and unhappiness with everything. “Huh, ’tis bad enough being threatened an’ overrun by vermin, but when we’re put out of our own home to play with the young ones, well that really is the limit! By the time we’re allowed back inside, those vermin brutes will have eaten all the food. There’s little enough left as it is. To cap it all, that rascal Lightpaw invites himself and a friend around for dinner. But we’ve got a family to think of, so I’ve got to put up with it all. What are we to do, Lupinia?”

His wife replied soothingly, “Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure everything will work out alright.”

The conversation was interrupted by the sounds of uproar from within their home. Muskar leapt up with alarm. “Oh good gracious, what’s all this about?”

The body of a rat came sailing out of the dormouse’s home, landing in a heap across Muskar’s footpaws. He recoiled from the carcase as the din from indoors increased.

“Haway Braaaaaw! Come on, ye villains. Ah’m no’ a dormousie, ah’m Wild Doogy Plumm! Haway Braaaaaaaw!”

Footpaws pounded madly about, mingled with vermin screams.

“Aaaagh, leggo a me!”

“Getta spear . . . Ooooffff!”

“Ah, come here, me scruffy ould beauty, I’ll teach ye to bully my neighbours, so I will!”

“Get be’ind der fancybeast. Use yer spear!”

“Och, ye’ll prod no more creatures wi’ that thing, mah bonny vermin. Here, taste a claymore blade!”

A ferret staggered out. Clutching his stomach, he gurgled horribly before collapsing.

Muskar stared at his wife in amazement. “It’s Lightpaw and the squirrel. They’re fighting the vermin, but how . . . ?”

His wife called to her young ones, “Play further up the bank, but don’t wander too far away.”

She turned to her husband. “I told you not to worry, dear. Mister Lightpaw and his friend are warriors. Trust me, they’ll take care of those dreadful vermin.”

Muskar grabbed the club from the paws of a dead rat. “Go and look after our young ’uns, Lupinia. I’ve been longing for a chance to have a crack at those vermin!”

He rushed indoors, waving the club and roaring, “Invade my home an’ steal my food, would you? Ye bottle-nosed, snaggletoothed, tat-furred bullies! Take that, an’ that . . . an’ have some o’ this, too!”

When the atmosphere became calmer, the dormouse mother brought her brood back to the cave. Muskar was helping Doogy and Yoofus to throw the slain vermin into the stream.

Yoofus bowed politely to her. “Ye’d best take the babbies inside, missus. Sure they don’t want to be seein’ this lot departin’!”

Doogy doffed his cap. “Aye, marm, we kept ’em well away from the vittles. Go on in now, the bairns will be wantin’ tae eat yore fine cookin’.”

Lupinia curtsied prettily to her saviours. “My thanks to you, goodbeasts. Will you join us for supper?”

Yoofus nodded to Doogy and Muskar. “You two go on. I’ll finish up here an’ join ye later!”