Brian Jacques - Redwall #05 - The Legend of Luke

Gonff gave a shudder of mock horror. "Enough o' that foul talk, ye blaggards! Off t'the boat with you an' keep a bridle on those wicked tongues!"

Martin drew his sword and marched the miscreants off. Gonff and the Guosim shrews had to bite their lips to keep from bursting out laughing.

Log a Log Furmo kept his face solemn. He patted the backs of the four miserable vermin heftily, then shook each one by the paw, with a grip that caused them to wince. "Lucky for you we came along, my friends, very lucky!"

One of the Guosim cooks whispered to Gonff in a voice that all could hear. "I 'opes they thanks the Chiefhe can't stand ungrateful beasts. Why, I've seen Furmo take 'is blade an' ..." Before the sentence was finished the vermin were gabbling aloud in panic.

"Aye, lucky indeed fer us, sire, thank ye!"

"Don't know wot we'd 'ave done without ye, Chief!"

"True, true, we'll never forget 'ow you saved us!"

"Thankee, thankee kindly, sir!"

Gonff gathered up the vermin weapons, tut-tutting like an old mousewife. "Nasty sharp things. Don't fret, friends, we'll take care o' these lest you injure yoreselves on 'em!"

Furmo presented them with the piece of wood that Trimp had intended using. "Sorry about yore friend the fox. You can dig a nice restin' place for him with this. Goodbye to ye."

As they marched off down the beach, one of the vermin, a big skinny rat, kicked the sand ruefully. "Huh, why did we ever come 'ere in the first place, that's wot I'd like ter know?"

Grimleg whacked him over the head with the piece of wood. "Ah shuddup, screwnose!"

Log a Log Furmo was delighted with the new vessel. He splashed about in the shallows, admiring it as the others clambered aboard. It was a long flat-bottomed skiff, with a single square midsail. Bluffed at the stern and pointed at the bows, fashioned from seasoned beech, elm and rowan wood, it had oarlocks and paddles, four to each side, plus a fine carved tiller and rudder. There was a stern shelter of canvas, stretched over a frame of willow, for cover in rough weather.

When Furmo climbed aboard, he went beneath the shelter, then emerged crowing with joy. "Lookit, Guosim, a liddle stone hearth an' a clay oven, an' three good bench seats. I reckon this craft'd hold a score an' a half of crew. I tell ye, mates, whoever built this vessel knew wot they were doin'. True craftsbeasts they must've been. A real beauty, eh, Gonffo?"

The Mousethief shook his head in amazement. "I wager 'twill go like the wind, too. Where'd those ole badbeasts ever lay paws on a marvelous craft like this?"

Chugger swaggered about, now immersed in his new role as a pirate captain. "Us robbed it offa ole frogdad an' boiled 'is tail for vikkles. Heeheehee!"

Trimp reprimanded him sharply. "That's quite enough of that kind of talk, thank you, Chugger."

The miscreant shot up the mastpole scowling darkly. "I norra Chugger no more. H'i a villyun, a orful bad 'un!"

Dinny went to sit beneath the stern awning. "Well oi bain't a bad 'un no more, zurr, ho no. Et 'urts moi face, a-scowlin' an' a-snarlin' all ee toim. Oi'm nought but a good ole mole, oi surpose."

Tacking close to the shore, they threaded northward. Furmo and his Guosim shrews were in absolute ecstasies about their new craft. Being great boatbuilders, they could readily appreciate the skill and ingenuity that had gone into its construction.

"I thought you were only traveling with us as far as the shore, my friend," Martin reminded the shrew gently. "Weren't you supposed to return to your camp and tribe, once we were safely downstream?"

Furmo was sniffing the deck, licking the mast, listening to the prow timbers and rapping his paws experimentally on the carved elm oarlocks. He smiled absently at Martin. "Oh, y'mean goin' back upstream t'the domestic life? Well I tell ye, matey, I'd get a right ole tellin' off from me wife if'n I went back to tell 'er we lost the logboats an' raft together. Huh! I might be a Log a Log, but my missus Honeysuckle, she's the real ruler of our tribe. She'd skelp the ears off me if'n I went back boatless!"

Martin nodded his agreement. "So what are you going t'do?"

A crafty smile flitted across the shrew's rugged face. "I'm goin' t'stay with ye, 'til yore adventure's done. Then you can sail back 'ome with me an' explain to me darlin' wife how you couldn't 'ave done without me'n'my Guosim crew. In fact you'll be so pleased with me that you'll present me with this boat, t'make up fer the ones we lost. In return I'll throw a smashin' feast for you'n'yore crew, an' we'll top it all off by namin' the vessel Honeysucklein me dear wife's honor. Done?"

Grinning broadly, Martin clasped Furmo's paw. "Done, you golden-tongued rascal!"

Chapter 13

The days that followed were sunny and uneventful, and good progress was made by the little ship Honeysuckle.She was ideally built for skimming the coastal waves, responding quickly to any vagrant wind, sliptide or rockshoal by just a touch on her tiller. Chugger was a constant source of amusement. The little squirrel had promoted himself to captain, still keeping up his new identity as a villainous sea rover. Folgrim and Trimp often had to stifle smiles and chuckles at his antics. Swaggering about the deck, armed with a stick for a sword, he growled out orders to all and sundry.

"Gerra vikkles cooked, or I fro y'to a sharkers!"

"Keepa tiller straight, mista Furmo, or cap'n Chugg make ya scrubba deck!"

"All singa funny song, or I choppa tails off!"

Gonff saluted him smartly. "Cap'n Chugg, sir, I've checked the provisions, an' we're runnin' low on every-thin'. We need more vittles."

Chugger stroked his chin reflectively, as he had seen Martin do, then he waved his tiny paws irately. "Well saila ship to d'shore an' get lotsa more vikkles. Hmph! Don't 'nnoy me, mouse, I busy bein' cap'n!"

Gonff looked to Furmo. "Well, we do need more provisions.

The shrew Chieftain tacked the vessel artfully across two cresting rollers, watching the shoreline intently. "We'll sail 'til evenin' then put in t'shore. A night on dry land'll do us good. Tomorrow will be time enough to send out a foragin' party. Er, if'n the cap'n approves."

Chugger was binding a colored shrew headband around his brow to make himself look more dashing. He nodded. "Good good, dat's wot we do. All 'ush now an' be quiet. Cap'n Chugg gonna take 'is nap!"

By evening the weather had grown noticeably brisker. Folgrim pointed shoreward, to where the beach was sandy and rockstrewn, dotted with dunes and backed by grassland with stunted trees and bushes. "Best chance a landfall there, afore the light fades."

Leaning on the tiller, Furmo sent the Honeysuckleskimming toward the beach. There the crew waded ashore and took up the ship's bowline, while they waited on Furmo's word. Watching the incoming waves carefully, he yelled as a high one caught the stern. "Take 'er in, me hearties. Heave!"

Without any difficulty they ran the vessel up high and dry above the tideline, where it lay safe.

Dinny immediately trundled up the beach, pleased to be on dry land, calling back to them, "Thurr be an owd boat up yurr. Oi thort et wurr a rock!"

Upside down and half buried in the sand, the boat lay, long forgotten on the deserted shore. Folgrim viewed it wistfully. "Wonder who it belonged to?"

Trimp ventured closer, peering into the dark cavern formed by the upturned craft. "I don't know, but it'd make a snug shelter for the night. We could get a fire going and make a decent meal with the last of our rations. Come on, it'll be fun!"

Before anybeast could stop her, the hedgehog maid stooped and scurried under the wrecked hull.

"Yeeek!" She came scampering out hastily, with a huge redbacked crab chasing her, its claws open and extended aggressively. She hopped clear, but the crab stood outside on the sand, menacing the travelers, protecting its shelter. It was joined by another crab of equal size and ferocity. Trimp was shaking like a leaf, and Chugger hid behind her.