Rakkety Tam (26 page)

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!”

With stew, new-baked bread and some honey and preserved fruit, they dined thankfully.

Mister Muskar produced a gourd of his special bilberry and apple cordial. “I was hiding this from the scum.”

After a while, Yoofus strolled in, washing his paws off with streamwater. He accepted his platter gratefully. “Ah well, that's that! Er, ye don't mind me sayin', mate, but ye've got me pretty little dagger stowed in yore belt. I'll thank ye to return it.”

Deftly catching the blade which Doogy tossed to him, Yoofus eyed a small stringed instrument hanging on the wall. “Is that a manjaleero, sir? Faith, 'tis long seasons since I saw one of those. Could I try it, sir?”

Mister Muskar took it down. “Be my guest.”

The water vole twiddled the tiny carved pegs, tuning it until he was satisfied at the tone. He winked at the young Muskars. “Shall I give ye a bit of an ould song?”

The little dormice nodded eagerly. Yoofus took a swig of Muskar's special cordial and strummed a chord. “Right then, this is an ould ditty me grandma used to sing. I wrote it meself this mornin'.”

He launched straight into the lively air.

 

“There's some likes the sportin' an' throwin' the ball,

but I love the howlin' an' fightin' an' all.

So if yore in a ruction just give a loud call,

an' meself will come chargin' to aid yeh!

 

I've walloped a weasel an' stiffened a stoat,

I can beat any durty ould vermin afloat.

An' if I grab a lizard or newt by his throat,

sure he'll wish he'd stayed home with his mammy!

 

I've fought with a ferret an' rousted a rat,

I biffed a big fox, aye, an' laid him out flat.

I'm as tough an' ferocious as any wildcat,

mind yer manners when Yoofus comes callin'!

 

One mornin' I strolled all alone by the lake,

an' spied a great serpent whose name was MacSnake.

I seized hold of his tail an' gave him such a shake,

that the adder became a subtracter!

 

If there's ever a chance for a row or a fight,

I'll battle all day an' long into the night,

an' put all those baggy-nosed vermin to flight,

that's providin' I'm home for me dinner!

 

I got home last night an' me mammy did say,

‘Have you been out scrappin' the whole livelong day?'

She spanked me young tail in her ould-fashioned way,

an' sent me off to bed with no supper!”

The fire had burned low, and the young dormice were asleep. Lupinia Muskar picked up her broom, then sighed and cast it aside. “I'll make a start on the cleaning tomorrow. Oh, for a peaceful night's rest without vermin belching and snoring all around us! Thank you both, I don't know what we'd have done without your help. If there's ever anything me or my family can do for you, then just ask.”

Doogy rolled himself in his plaid cloak by the embers. “Mayhaps ye could tell me the way tae Redwall Abbey, marm. We'll be headin' for there after we've visited Yoofus's wife at their home on the morrow.”

Mister Muskar pointed. “It's two days' journey downstream. There's a raft just upstream that belonged to the vermin. You can take it and sail most of the way. When you see the rapids at the big east bend, leave the raft and walk west into the woodlands. You'll sight Redwall after a while.”

Yoofus had settled down in a comfy old armchair. “A raft, ye say? That'll be grand, I like rafts.”

Doogy was about to drop off when something occurred to him. “By the bye, Yoofus, have ye seen the big drum around? Ah'd almost forgotten about it.”

The water vole yawned. “Oh, that ould thing. The vermin left it outside on the streambank 'cos there was no room in here. Don't ye fret, Doogy mate, 'twill still be there in the mornin'. Sleep tight now.”

No longer held hostage by the vermin, they all slumbered peacefully in the calm, homely warmth.

 

Shortly before dawn, Doogy was wakened by one of the young dormice. “Sir, where's your friend, Mister Lightpaw? He's not here.”

The Highlander sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Not here, laddie? Then where's the rascal gone, eh?”

The young dormouse had no idea, so Doogy arose and went out to the streambank to look. He was back inside immediately, girding on his numerous weapons.

Lupinia Muskar was rekindling the fire to cook breakfast. She noted the concern on Doogy's face. “Mr. Plumm, what is it? Is something the matter?”

The Highlander clapped a paw to his belt. “Mah travellin' companion's decamped, marm. Aye, an' he's taken the big drum an' mah dirk, too!”

She roused her husband. “Muskar, go with Mister Plumm. See if you can find his friend. Hurry, dear!”

The dormouse blinked sleep from his eyes. “Come on, sir, we'll find him. He can't have gone far.”

But Muskar's opinion proved incorrect when he drew back a screen of bushes upstream. “Oh dear, it looks like Mister Lightpaw has sailed off on the raft. He's probably heading home.”

Doogy set his jaw grimly. “D'ye know where he lives, sir?”

Muskar nodded upstream. “Mister Lightpaw has a home up that way, on the edge of a pond. I've been there before.”

In no mood for chitchat, Doogy grabbed the dormouse's
paw. “Aye, well ye can show me the way. Come on, Muskar. Ah'm wantin' tae have a wee chat wi' that saucy robber!”

“Robber!” Muskar echoed in shocked tones. “Do you mean to tell me that Mister Lightpaw's a robber?”

The Highlander yanked the dormouse energetically along the streambank, muttering fiercely, “Aye, a robber, thief, pilferer, purloiner, looter! Call him what ye will. Yoofus steals anythin' that comes tae paw. He'd have the eyes oot o' yer head if'n ye weren't watchin' him!”

Muskar Muskar looked bewildered. “Good grief, who'd have thought it! Mister Lightpaw, a thief. And he seemed such a nice and jolly sort.”

Doogy smiled in spite of himself. “Och, it just goes tae show, ye never know who's livin' in the area nowadays, eh?”

 

They followed the streambank, then cut off west. As soon as Doogy and Muskar came in sight of the lake, they immediately spotted Yoofus outside his dwelling, busily polishing the sides of the big drum. Every now and then he would strike the drum a few taps with a stick he had gripped in his thick little tail.

His wife Didjety came out to complain. “Will ye stop beltin' that great thing, it's drivin' me scatty! Yore like a babby with a new toy, so y'are.”

Yoofus gave the drum a few more raps. “Ah sure, ye've got no ear for music at all, me little sugar plum. Will ye just hark t'that grand boom!”

He was striking the drum again as his visitors walked up. The volethief showed neither apprehension nor surprise at the sight of Doogy. “Faith, an' wasn't I just sayin' to meself that me good mate Doogy Plumm'd be along soon. I'd an idea that ould Muskar knew the way, so I was sure he'd bring ye. Will ye not listen t'the great boom o' this drum. 'Tis a sound for heroes an' warriors, so 'tis!”

Didjety greeted Muskar before questioning her husband. “Who's that serious-lookin' squirrel, a friend of yores?”

Yoofus gave the drum a resounding roll with his stick. “That he is, me darlin', a true blue pal in all weathers. Why don't ye take Mister Muskar inside an' put the kettle on for some nice mint tea? Meself an' Mister Plumm have business t'talk. We'll join ye in a tick.”

The moment they were alone, Doogy spoke in a flat, dangerous voice. “Where's mah dirk?”

Yoofus smiled disarmingly. “Dirk? Isn't that the funny ould long dagger ye carry? Sure ye must've mislaid it, matey.”

The Highlander shook his head. “Don't matey me, ye rogue!” The claymore flashed out, its point pricking the vole's throat. Doogy meant business. “Hear me, thief. If ah don't have mah dirk by the time ah've counted tae three, ye'll no' be drinkin' tea anymore. One . . . Two . . . !”

The bladetip moved up and down as Yoofus gulped. “Ah wait, wait now, let me think! The dirk, the dirk, now let me see . . . Oh, I remember now, 'tis hangin' from the back o' the door inside. I was takin' care of it for ye!”

Doogy used his claymore to motion the volethief inside. “It better had be, Yoofus, or that bonny wee wifey o' yores will make a bonny wee widow. Go on, you first.”

Just as the Highlander was retrieving his weapon from the hook behind the front door, Didjety placed a tray of pasties and some long, fat objects on the table alongside her tea service.

“Mister Plumm, sit yoreself down an' take a sup'n'bite with us. The pasties are filled with wild cherry an' rhubarb. But if ye fancy somethin' savoury, then try me sausages. They're straight out the oven, y'know.”

Doogy enquired, “Sausages, marm? What are sausages?”

The volewife explained. “I invented them meself, sir. I make a mixture of fine ground barley, oats, carrot and mushroom. Then I wrap them in onion skin and bake them slow overnight. Everybeast likes me sausages, have one. Ah no, don't sit there, Mister Plumm. He doesn't like bein' sat upon, do ye, Rockbottom?”

Doogy stood to one side, staring at what he thought had
been some kind of stone seat. It looked like stone, though it was covered with a curious square pattern. Yoofus rapped gently on the object. Doogy could not believe what he was seeing. A head emerged slowly from one end of the thing. It resembled a serpent's head, but it had a much friendlier expression, with a mouth more like a beak. The creature, its neck wrinkled and scaled, looked as if it were from another world.

Didjety stood a short distance from it, holding out a piece of sausage. She spoke to it coaxingly. “Come on then, me beauty. Here's some of yore mammy's sausage for ye, me lovely ould Rockbottom.”

Doogy's eyes grew wider as four scaly little limbs emerged from the beast. Opening its small, pink-tongued mouth, it trundled toward the food in the volewife's paw.

Totally flabbergasted, Doogy scratched his tail in bewilderment. “Where in the name o' moles'n'mountains did ye get that beastie? What manner o' creature is it?”

Didjety fed her small friend fondly. “Ah sure, Yoofus gave it t'me as a gift to keep me company while he's out rovin' goodness knows where.”

Doogy grabbed the volethief's whiskers and tweaked hard. “Where did ye steal it? An' I want tae know the truth!”

Yoofus came up on tippaw as Doogy tweaked harder. “Owowow! Leggo, ye great murderin' hooligan. I never stole it—on me honour as a thief, I didn't. Yowch gerroff!”

Doogy released him, listening whilst the vole related his story. “ 'Twas a curious thing but true, as ye'll hear. One mornin' I was sittin' fishin' by the lake, with me back up against a sycamore tree. Well, there's me, tryin' to catch a sly ould perch I've been after all season, when right beside me the earth starts t'move! Hoho, sez I to meself, here comes a mole who's lost his way. But it wasn't any mole at all. Somebeast must've filled in a hole near the tree with a pile o' moss an' dead leaves, 'cos all of a sudden up comes ould Rockbottom, calm as ye like. Then
he tumbles over onto the back of his shell, with the effort of climbin' out, d'ye see. So there's him, layin' an' lookin' at me, an' there's me, sittin' an' lookin' at him. I sez good day, an' how d'ye do, but the beast doesn't say a thing back t'me. So I turned him over an' set him back on his liddle legs. Then, d'ye know what he did? He follered me back home, without a word or a by yore leave. Didjety took to the liddle feller right away, so she did. We named him Rockbottom, an' he's been with us ever since. An' grand ould company he is, too. Aren't ye Rockbottom, me ould tatercake?”

With eyes twinkling, the creature nodded its head as Didjety stroked it lovingly. “Sure he's neither beetle, crab nor newt, but I wouldn't be without me darlin' pet, not for anythin'!”

The truth hit Doogy like a bolt of lightning. “That beast is a Walkin' Stone. It's the thing that auld Gulo the Savage wants tae get his paws on!”

At the mention of Gulo, the little creature shot its head back into its shell.

Didjety scowled. “Well, I don't give a mouldy acorn who this Gulo is, but he's not gettin' me Rockbottom!”

The Highlander nodded decisively. “No, he ain't, marm, 'cos Rockbottom's comin' back tae Redwall Abbey wi' me!”

Yoofus stood up, placing his paw aggressively on his dagger hilt. “My Didjety's liddle pet leaves this place over me dead body. So what d'ye say t'that, me bold squirrel?”

Quick as a flash, Doogy drew his dirk, rapping the volethief's paw sharply. Then he laid the blade on Yoofus's nose. “That can be easily arranged, mah wee sauncy vole!”

Mister Muskar, who had sat silently downing sausages during the dispute, protested, “But you can't just march in here and take that creature away from the Lightpaws. That makes you as big a thief as Yoofus, if you'll pardon my saying, Mister Lightpaw.”

Doogy thrust another sausage into the dormouse's
mouth. “Ah'll thank ye t'stay out o' this, sir. Rockbottom is goin' tae Redwall, an' so is the drum. Yore comin', too, Yoofus. But before we get tae the Abbey, yore goin' tae take us tae yon hole in the streambank. D'ye recall it? Ah think that's where ye hid Rakkety Tam MacBurl's claymore an' the banner ye stole when ye escaped from the Abbey.”

Yoofus pushed the blade away from his nose and nodded. “Faith, you ain't as thick as ye look, Mister Plumm. You've had yore eye on me closely. I thought ye'd forgotten the sword an' the flag. Alright, friend, you win. I'll go with ye!”

Now it was Didjety's turn to protest. “Hold fast there! Ye ain't traipsin' off an' leavin' me here all alone.”

Doogy shrugged. “Then ye'd best come with us, marm.”

The volewife looked around at her neat home. “But who's goin' to take care of this place?”

Mister Muskar volunteered. “Myself and my good wife Lupinia will do that, Mrs. Lightpaw. That's if you'd be good enough to leave us a supply of your delicious sausages?”

Yoofus suddenly took a shine to the idea. “Sure, we'll take the raft, it'll be a nice little trip downstream. Ah, ye'll love Redwall, Didjety me darlin', 'tis a grand ould place. Right then, let's get packed!”

Doogy sat down and began loading up a plate. “Not before ah've helped mahself tae these vittles!”

He immediately pronounced Didjety's sausages excellent. “Och, ah never met a sausage until taeday, but ah could happily live on 'em for the rest o' mah life, marm!”

 

The vermin must have stolen the raft from some otherbeasts, because it was a stout, well-built craft, and it rode the stream smoothly. Mister Muskar leaped ashore as they passed his dwelling. The dormouse family came out to wave farewell as they drifted off downstream, with Yoofus and Doogy plying the long paddling poles.

The highland squirrel watched the deep quiet stream running silently by, murmuring to himself as he wielded his paddle, “Ah hope Tam's lookin' after himself an' no' frettin' about me too much.”