Brian Jacques - Redwall #15 - The Taggerung

When Cregga had gone, Mhera and Fwirl found some shears and a needle and thread in Sister Alkanet's cupboard. They set about snipping the worded piece from the coverlet and sewing a new hem right along the edge. Broggle watched them, a smile hovering on his pudgy face.

"You'll excuse me saying, misses, but you aren't very good seamstresses, are you? Here, you'd better let me do that."

Mhera could not help laughing at the crooked line of stitching she and Fwirl had worked on. She gave the coverlet to Broggle. "Thanks, pal. I was always pretty dreadful with needle and thread."

Fwirl frowned. "I thought we were doing quite well, but I've had no experience of needlework, so how would I know? I'd love to learn how to do it properly, though."

The assistant cook took out his little kitchen knife and began unpicking the haphazard stitching. "Would you really, Fwirl? Then watch me and I'll show you. It's quite simple once you get the hang of it."

Mhera took the lettered cloth to the round window and studied it while Broggle, who was an extremely quick and neat worker, instructed Fwirl in needlework. The ottermaid soon gave up staring at the scrap of cloth and stood gazing out of the window, to where Durby and his Dibbun chums had finished eating their woodland trifle with meadowcream topping. Trundling from the gatehouse, carrying the empty basin between them, they were making for the pond. Mhera could see their happy little faces, all with beards and mustaches of meadowcream, and she wondered what they were up to. They waddled into the shallows and began washing the mess from themselves, knowing that they might be saving themselves from a thorough bathing by any elder who found them covered in cream and trifle. But, being Dibbuns, they quickly found better uses for Abbey pondwater than washing, and a full-scale watersplashing battle soon broke out. Mhera chuckled to herself as she watched the fun. However, her good humor suddenly turned to alarm. Whilst the rest were splashing one another, they had completely ignored the tiniest Dibbun of all, Wegg the hedgehog babe. He had launched the big beechwood trifle bowl onto the pond and clambered into it.

Paws cupped around her mouth, Mhera yelled down at them, "Durby, Feegle! Pull that bowl ashore and get little Wegg out!" But they were splashing and shouting so loudly that they were oblivious of Mhera's calls from the high window.

Broggle looked up from his work. "Is that the Dibbuns? What are they up to?"

Mhera dashed from the room, calling back to the needleworkers, "You carry on with your task. I'll see to this!"

She was across the landing, down the stairs and through the Great Hall like a flash. Whizzing through the open Abbey doorway, she almost collided with her mother, who was coming in from the orchard with an apron full of fresh pears. Filorn bent to pick up the fallen ones, shaking her head.

"Dearie me, the number of times I've told that daughter o' mine not to rush. She's as bad as any Dibbun, even now she's grown up!"

Bounding over the lawn toward the south wall, Mhera could see the trifle bowl well out on the lake as the splashing Dibbuns sent up waves. They had still not noticed the hogbabe's absence. But Wegg saw Mhera. Standing up in the bowl, he waved his tiny paws.

"Meeler, Meeler, ukka me!"

He toddled to the edge of the bowl and capsized it.

As she ran, Mhera saw the silvery flash rise close to the surface, then the long high purplish dorsal fin of a big male grayling, closing in on the squeaking hogbabe. Durby and the others saw it too. They stopped splashing and began yelling.

"Cumm owt o' thurr, likkle Wegg!"

"Yeeeek, big fish comin' to eat 'im all up!"

"Out of the waaaaaaay!"

Mhera went sailing over their heads in a long powerful dive. It was all over in the wink of an eye. She struck the hunting grayling in its midsection, stunning it. Swirling her rudder, the ottermaid did a spinning turn and grabbed Wegg, then made a beeline for the shallows, with the hogbabe perched on her head, giggling as if it were all a great game.

Filorn had dropped her pears and set off after Mhera, realizing that something was amiss. She was followed by Hoarg, Broggle, Drogg and Sister Alkanet. They arrived at the pool in time to see Mhera come to land with Wegg. Before they could ask what had happened, Durby, Feegle and the other Dibbuns were relating the adventure en masse.

"Ee gurt fisher, bigger as ee h'Abbey, eated Wegg all oop!"

"Meeyra dived up in the air, right right up to th'sky!"

"Boi 'okey, roight daown ee gurt fisher's mouth 'urr go'd!"

"Yehyeh an' she pulled likkle Wegg out an' swimmed away wiv 'im!"

Filorn felt Mhera's sodden robe. "You're soaked, miss. Is everybeast all right?"

Mhera passed the hogbabe to her mother. "They're fine. This one went sailing in your trifle bowl. He fell in and a grayling went after him, but I got him back safe."

Sister Alkanet pointed a paw severely in front of her. "You Dibbuns, form a line, right there. Just look at the dreadful state you lot are in!"

1 langing their heads and shuffling paws, the Abbeybabes fell in line. Drogg Cellarhog eyed them sternly. "Wot've you been tole about goin' in the pool by yoreselves, eh?"

Before they could answer, Sister Alkanet opened Feegle's mouth and peered at her tongue. "Ugh! Pondwater, sand and I don't know what you've been swallowing. Right, follow me to the infirmary. 'Tis a dose of agrimony physick all 'round and a good bath in clean water and soapwort for all of you. Better bring Wegg along too, Miz Filorn!"

The ottermum felt sorry for the Dibbuns, but she knew as well as they did that lessons must be learned. She kept a straight face as she asked accusingly, "And pray tell me, where's my best trifle bowl?"

Durby tried one of his most winning molesmiles. "Et be's daown unner ee ponder, missus. Ee gurt fishes makin' troifle in et, tho' not as noice as yourn, moi dearie!"

Filorn wagged an admonitory paw at the Dibbuns. "Well, I can't make any more woodland trifles with meadowcream if I don't have my favorite bowl, no more ever. Now d'you see what your disobedience and naughtiness have cost you?" The Dibbuns were led off wailing heartbrokenly.

When they had gone, Mhera waded back into the pond. She waved to her mother. "Seeing as I'm wet already, I'll go and get it back."

Boorab touched his injured nose gingerly. "I'b glad deb liddle 'uns're geddin' physicked ad nodd bee. Blurgh! Id tasthes like boiled frogth!"

Old Hoarg agreed heartily with the hare. "I mind one time she physicked me for a bad tummy. Phwarr! I swore I'd die afore I took the Sister's physick again."

Mhera emerged from the pool carrying the bowl. "That old grayling looks as if he's in need of some medicine. I had to butt him real hard. Couldn't take a chance on letting him get to little Wegg."

Filorn patted her daughter's soggy back gratefully. "You did the right thing. Thank you, my dear. I'd have missed this bowl very much. Your father made it for me. I think you're as good a swimmer as he ever was, Mhera. Up you go now. Dry off and get out o' those wet robes. There's fresh ones in my linen chest."

Drogg Cellarhog watched Mhera squelch off back to the Abbey. "You got a wunnerful daughter there, marm. Anybeast'd be proud to 'ave 'er as kin!"

Chapter 20

It was evening when Mhera came back down from her room. She had taken a short nap, cleaned herself up and dressed in a soft magnolia robe with a brown cord girdle. She found Broggle and Fwirl sitting together in the orchard.

"Hello, you two. Well, Fwirl, how was your sewing lesson?"

Broggle pulled a face and held his paws up. "Don't even ask, Mhera! We'd just finished with that coverlet when in marches the good Sister with a crowd of muddy wet Dibbuns. She made us help her to physick and bathe them."