Brian Jacques - Redwall #16 - Triss

The two friends helped him ashore, where he sat blowing and heaving awhile before turning to Scarum with a comical grin on his tough face.

That there shark’s an ole pal o’ yores, messmate. See the rope ‘angin’

out its mouth? That’s the one you caught it on. The villain’s still got yore ‘ook stuck in its mouth!

Scarum stared in amazement at the fish, which, now that it could stretch the rope by pulling against it, was biting through the fibres.

Good grief, so it is. The hare began shouting at the shark. Hi there, old lad! Remember me, the chap you took for a boat ride? Hoho, missed me again, didn’t you? Silly great blighter, that’ll teach you t’mess with fearless seafarers. Go on, be off with you, fishface!

At that moment the rope snapped and the shark wallowed awkwardly out to deep water again, still towing a small tail of rope from its mouth.

Scarum flung several pebbles after it. Call back anytime if y’want more of the same, wot!

Arrh, weel now, sorr, ye must be awful brave beasts!

They turned to see a little hogmaid standing watching them. She had her headspikes tipped with flowers and wore a clean tunic of green woven linen with a flowery patterned pinafore over it.

Scarum put on a courageous, carefree face. All part of the job, pretty miss. We’re shark hunters really, chase the old sea monsters hither an’ thither, wot. Not a bally shark in the seas won’t turn tail an’

run at the mention of us. So then, me spiked beauty, where d’you live?

Completely friendly, the little hogmaid took Scarum’s paw. If yore honour’ll come wid me, I’ll be showin’ ye.

The hare nodded at his companions to follow. Making an elegant leg at the little hogmaid, he allowed her to lead him off to some dunelands backing the shore.

It’ll be a pleasure, m’gel. I’ll go with anybeast who looks as plump an’ jolly well fed as you. Your family got plenty of grub, have they?

Hawhaw, lead on, little charmer!

A hogwife appeared on the dunetops, waving a ladle as she called to the little hogmaid, Is that yourself, Fridilo Migooch? An’ wot’ve ye been told about wand’rin’ off alone? Tis a ladle I should be takin’

to yer tailspikes. Ah shure an’ where in the name o’ fleas did ye find those three raggity ould tramps?

Scarum murmured to Kroova, Raggedy ould tramps, I say! Bit much, isn’t it, wot wot?

The sea otter winked at him. Leave this t’me, mate. He bounded up the dune and smiled disarmingly at the hog-wife.

Pleasant day to ye, inarm. We’re pore shipwrecked creatures who found yore liddle ‘un lost, so we was just bringiner back ‘ome to ye.

The hogwife waved her ladle at Fridilo. That’n lost? Arrh, ‘way with ye, she’s no more lost than a dumplin’ in a soup pot. So now, ‘tis yoreself an’ those other two a-fetchin’ the babe home. At least yore not pirates.

Ye look fair famished, all of ye. I’m thinkin’ ye’d best come t’the tenty an’ take an’ ould gobfull.

Scarum was beside her in a bound, holding the little one in his paws, grinning bravely as he was prickled by her. My dear lady, I take it that you mean we’re invited to dinner. May I express the hope that it tastes as good as you look, beautiful creature, wot!

A half-smile appeared on the hogwife’s homely features. Away with ye, y’great silver-tongued ould hooligan, I’m not yer dear lady. I’m Mammee Migooch, so I am!

The tentys, as Mammee called them, were great sand-coloured tents of hessian weave, almost invisible among the dunes. They were the home of the roving Migooch tribe, nomad hogs who wandered the coastline.

There were roughly a hundred of them, all shapes and sizes, cheerful creatures who lived from day to day without any thought for the morrow.

The travellers stood to one side as Fridilo related the shark incident with lots of comical dancing and rapid baby talk. When she was done, a fat old male, wearing a tattered straw hat and a soupstained smock, shook Kroova’s paw heartily.

Arrh, antis yoreself the great shark wrestler? I raise me hat t’ye, sorr, I do indeed. Cumarnee Migooch is proud t’be shakin’ the paw that shook a shark!

Scarum strode forward, flexing his ears. Actually, old chap, ‘twas me who wrestled the blighter, doncha know. When the jolly old shark was worn out, I sent Kroova in to deal him a whack or two, Scarum Sharkslayer at y’service, sah!

Cumarnee raised his bushy eyebrows. Weel now, aren’t ye the bold feller?

We’ll take a trip down t’the shore later an’ let ye show us how you wrestle wid d’great sharks. How’ll that suit ye?

The garrulous hare had his answer ready. Er, I’m restin’ at the moment.

Besides, y’won’t see a fin for miles around. Sharks know I’m here, y’see.

Oh yes, mention Scarum Sharkslayer an’ they paddle off pretty fast.

Can’t blame the poor cads really, can you, wot!

A pretty hogmaid of about sixteen seasons gazed adoringly at Scarum.

Faith, sorr, ye must’ve had some tumble times wid the ould sharks. I’d be afeared just to see one!

Sagax and Kroova were having trouble stifling their laughter. The hare glared at them and whispered, Titter not, chaps, got to impress the locals. They don’t give tramps very big portions, y’know. But I’ll bet they feed heroes like bloomin’ kings.

He turned to the hogmaid. No need t’be feared of sharks, m’dear, not whilst I’m around. Just before we go in to dinner, let me tell you the story of how I fought the great giant monster hog-eatin’ shark. Hah, that was a day I’ll never forget, eh, wot!

The Migooch tribe loved nothing better than a good story. They sat down on the sand and listened to Scarum’s horrendous, and totally untrue, account. He strutted about with his chest puffed out, shutting one eye and glaring ferociously at his audience.

This happened down the coast, south from Salaman-dastron, about, er, two summers ago. Were any of you chaps there at the time?

An oldster raised his paw. Meself was there, sorr!

Scarum twitched his whiskers. Er, no, ‘twas three summers back, now I come t’think of it. Paws up, anybeast who was there three summers back?

No paws were raised, so the hare continued with his lies. Ah yes, chaps’n’chapesses, ‘twas a bright sunny day an’ I was walkin’ along the shore, when all of a bally sudden two small hedgehogs, dear little types, came chargin’ out of the sea, cryin’ an’ wailin’ in pitiful voices.

Ho, Scarum Sharkslayer, they cried, save our granma!

A hogmaid tugged at Scarum’s footpaw. Pray, sorr, what was their names?

He stared down at the hogmaid. Don’t know, m’dear, I’d never met ‘em before. Now sit quietly an’ listen.

But she would not. Arrh, weel how did they know your name if ye didn’t know theirs, ‘cos you’d never met ‘em afore?

Scarum fixed her with an icy smile. Because, my inquisitive beauty, everybeast down that way knows the name of Scarum Sharkslayer, wot!

The oldster raised his paw. But I was never knowin’ your name afore today, sorr, an’ I been down thataways many times.

Shaking with mirth, Sagax and Kroova held their sides as Scarum began losing patience with his audience. He bellowed at the oldster, Well, y’must be flippin’ well deaf if you’ve been down south of Salamandastron an’ never bloomin’ well heard of Scarum Sharkslayer. Now shut your snout an’ listen!

He was about to continue when another paw was raised. Beggin’ yer pardon, sorr, but what was that shark’s name?

How should I flippin’ well know? Scarum roared. The blighter didn’t have a name, it was ... it was the blinkin’ great, bloomin’ giant, confounded monster, wot-jermacallit, hog-eatin’ shark. At least that’s what all the hedgehogs called it. Satisfied, eh, wot?