Brian Jacques - Redwall #05 - The Legend of Luke

"Yaaah! It a bigga spider! No, two bigga spiders now!"

Martin stayed Folgrim's paw as it strayed to the ax he had taken from the vermin. "Easy now. Killing's not necessary, friend. They're not spiders, Chugg, they're crabs, pretty big 'uns, too. But not to worry, our Prince of Mousethieves knows how to deal with crabs, don't you, O chubby one?"

Gonff bowed low, muttering to his friend, "Less of the chubby one, matey." He turned to Trimp. "Fear not, pretty one, crabs an' I are ole chums. Furmo, build a fire over yonder an' bring me two long pieces o' wood, will you? Stand clear the rest of ye!"

While Furmo and his Guosim shrews built a fire of driftwood, both crabs held their ground, never going forward or back, but scrabbling sideways with their fearsome pincers wide open, giving out danger signals to the intruders. Gonff took the two long wooden spars offered by a shrew and bound them at both ends with rags soaked in lamp oil, keeping one eye on the crabs.

"These should do fine. Now watch this an' remember, mates, a crab's the daftest creature livin'. Once he latches on to somethin' he won't let go, unless 'tis food he can push into his silly mouth, an' these poles ain't food!" He charged the nearest crab, with the pole held out horizontally, shouting, "C'mon, ole shellback, bite on this!"

Clack! The creature's powerful claws seized the pole.

"Now one for your ole pal there. Bite on this, stalk-eyes!" Gonff thrust the second pole at the other crab in like manner. Obediently the fearsome pincers grabbed it. Boldly the Mousethief stood a hair's breadth from both crabs and turned his back on them to face the audience. "Y'see, they ain't got enough brains between 'em to let go of those poles, an' while they're hangin' on to 'em, they can't hurt us with their nippers. Now, they'll stand there like that 'til the crack o' doom if I let 'em. But here's the best way to get rid o' crabs. Watch!"

Taking a blazing piece of wood from the fire, Gonff raced nimbly around both crabs, touching the flames to both ends of each pole. Agitatedly, the big crustaceans continued their sideways patrol, stalk eyes waving wildly in the firelights they were carrying, stumbling and tripping in dumb panic. The Mousethief advanced upon them, swinging his crackling torch.

"You rock-backed oafs, go on, get out o' here afore yore nippers get burned. Go on, into the water with yer!"

He chased them a short distance down the beach, until the crabs' tiny brains realized the answer to their burning problem. They scuttled off sideways into the sea. Gonff skipped back up the beach, chuckling. "Ain't got the sense they was born with, those two!"

Everybeast waited while the fearless Gonff went beneath the boat hull with his lighted torch. "Come on in, buckoes, the place is empty!"

Guosim cooks like nothing better than to improvise with their cooking. That night they did the crew proud. Barley broth with wild onions and dried watershrimp, hot mint and dandelion tea, and the piece de resistance:a big pan, lined with thick slices of honey-soaked shrew-bread, into which they placed all their dried apples and pears and hazelnuts, mixed with the last of their fresh berriesblackcurrants, strawberries and raspberries. The pan was covered with a flat slab of stone and placed on the fire. After a while, the aromas drifted temptingly aroundln the shelter formed by the upturned boat. While Folgrim was not looking, Chugger emptied his barley broth into the otter's bowl and sat happily licking his seashell spoon.

"Cummon, mista Fol, eaty up all barley broff, or you don't get no pudden. See, Chugg eat all his up, yum yum!"

The scarred otter tugged his friend's bushy tail fondly. "Ain't it strange 'ow a bowl can fill itself up agin? Yore a forty-faced liddle skinnamalinker, cap'n Chugg!"

The pudding was perfectly cooked, a triumph. Every-beast had their bowls heaped, and they tucked in willingly.

"Mmmm, this is marvelous!"

"Best I ever tasted, pipin' 'ot an' delicious!"

"Burr aye, gurtly noice an' turrible tasty et be's!"

"Any chance o' second 'elpings there, cooky?"

"If'n you wants to end up in the sea wid yore crab-mates, Gonff, jus' keep callin' me cooky!"

"Oops, sorry, O well-furred an' beautiful Guosim Boss!"

"Oh, all right, pass yore bowl 'ere!"

Outside the night grew cold, with a stiff wind driving sand spirals across the shore. Fortunately, the shelter was in the lee of the wind, and they sat around the cheery fire amid the good food and banter. During a lull in the conversation, Trimp cocked an ear to the opening. "Listen. Can you hear anything, Martin?"

Martin listened. "Aye, like a sort of moaning."

Furmo refilled Dinny's bowl. "ProbTy the wind."

But Martin's paw was on his sword. He leaned forward, alert. "That's not the wind. Listen carefully!"

In the silence that followed they all heard the audible moaning from outside, eerie, ghostly.

"Oooo oo ummmm, ooo oooo aaaahhhh . .."

It seemed to fade and rise with the lonely wind out on the moonless stretches of coastline. Furmo shuddered. "Don't sound like nothin' livin' t'me!"

This remark started off a lot of fearful speculation.

"Mayhap 'tis the spirits of deadbeasts?"

"Aye, mate, could've been the long-dead crew o' this boat!"

"They say strange things 'appen on ole lonely shores!"

"I've 'eard tell o' that, too. Bet they comes back on dark nights, to visit the spot where they perished!"

"Ooh urr, us'n's should've stayed aboard ee boat on ee sea!"

"Hark, I can 'ear 'em singin' words!"

Sure enough, the words came clear and distinct. Beneath the boat, fur stood on end, paws trembled and creatures drew closer to the fire. They could not avoid hearing the wailing dirge, which rose and blended with the sighing winds.

"Ooooo ooo ummmm! Ooooo ooo aaahhhh!

From the deep cold seas afar,

Spirits of the dead arise,

Rattling bones and sightless eyes,

From the deep mysterious sea.

Wand'ring lonely beach and shore,

We must walk eternally,

Wand'ring, seeking evermore,

When the pale moon sends its light.

Or in dark and starless night,

Roaming near and traveling far,

Ooooo ooo ummmm! Ooooo ooo aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!"

Trimp's face was blanched with fear. Chugger was trembling like a leaf, and she hugged him close to her. The breath caught in her throat as a spectrally hollow knock sounded on the upturned boat hullWhock! Whock! Whock!followed by unearthly-sounding voices.

"Leave the coast, desert our shore,

Or stay here for evermore,

Go by land or go by sea,

Heed these warning words and fleeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Martin looked at the terror-stricken faces around him. Drawing his sword, he turned to the only one, beside himself, who did not appear to be affected by the eerie chants. "Well, what d'you make of that little lot, Gonff?"

The Mousethief drew his dagger. "Don't see how a ghost could be solid enough to knock its paws on a boat hull, mate. You stay here in case it's some kind o' trap take care of these ditherin' daisies. I'll go an' take a look out there!"

Gonff slid out into the night. A moment later he reappeared, a great deal faster than he had left. Martin gripped his friend's paw as the dagger slid from it. This was not like Gonff, who sat ashen-faced and trembling. The Warrior gazed into his haunted eyes. "What is it, mate? What did you see out there?"

Gonff swigged down a beaker of dandelion and mint tea. He regained his composure slightly, though it was some time before he managed to speak. "I tell ye, matey, I never want to see aught like that again. Tall they were, very tall, with 'orrible faces an' long white bodies that seemed to flutter'n'float!"

One of the Guosim shrews recoiled in horror, his paw shaking as he pointed out beneath their shelter entrance. "Eeaaargh! I see one! There 'tis!"