Long Patrol [Redwall 10] by Brian Jacques

Author:Brian Jacques [Jacques, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780099638810
Amazon: 0441005993
Publisher: Ace
Published: 1997-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

urgale lay flat on his back, complaining to the stars: “Oh, my auntie’s bonnet! I thought ol’ Clubrush was goin’ to march us all bally night. Look, there’s steam risin’ out of the water where I’m dippin’ me pore old paws!” The Sergeant’s tone was almost an outraged squeal. “Get those dirty great sweaty dustridden paws out o’ that water! It’s for drinkin’, not sloshin’ about in. Trowbaggs, what’n the name o’ seasons are you up to, bucko?”

“Wrappin’ m’self up in me groundsheet, Sarge. Good

Veins stood out on the Sergeant’s brow as he roared at the s blunderer, “Sleepin’? Who said you could sleep, sah?

Get that equipment cleaned, lay out yore mess kit, line up for Stopper! Forget sleep. Trowbaggs, stay awake! Yore on second f;’: Trowbaggs groaned aloud as he searched in the dark for his mess kit. “Somebeast’s pinched me flippin’

spoon. Oh, Mother, I want to go home. Save me from all this, I wasn’t Hgptout for it, wot!”

“Never mind, scout,” a kindly older hare named Shangle fidepad whispered to him, “it gets worse before it gets jolly well better. Here, I’ll swap with you. I’m on first watch. You do it and I’ll take second sentry for you, that way you’ll be able t’get a full night’s sleep.”

When the camp had quieted down and was running smoothly, Clubrush went to sit beside Lady Cregga at the pond’s far side. She looked up from polishing her axhead and asked, “How are they doing. Sergeant?”

“Oh, they’ll shape up, rnarrn, never fear. First day’s always the longest for the green ones. P’raps if we don’t march

’em as ’ard an’ far tomorrer ...”

The rose eyes glinted dangerously. “They’ll learn to march twice as hard and fast, aye, and fight like they never imagined before I’m done with them. I never brought them along on any picnic, and the sooner they realize that the better. Dismissed, Sergeant Clubrush!”

The Sergeant stood to attention and saluted. “Aye, marm, thank ye, marm!” Clubrush went to where his equipment was neatly laid out. Somebeast had carefully folded his groundsheet so that he could retire immediately without making it up into a sleeping bag. Being an old campaigner, the Sergeant upset the sheet with his pace stick. A pile of nettles and some soggy bank sand flopped out on the ground.

He lay down on the clean dry part of the sheet and shouted, “Oowow! Who put this lot in me bed? You ’orrible rotten lot, I’ll march yore blatherin’ paws to a frazzle in the mornin’!” Smothered giggles sounded from the recruits’ area. Sergeant Clubrush smiled as he settled down. They were good young ’uns; he’d do all he could to help them make the grade.

Obeying Damug’s orders, Gaduss the weasel had scouted north with his patrol all day, reaching the southern edge of Mossflower Wood by nightfall. He allowed no fires to be lit in the small camp set up at the outer tree fringe. The night passed uneventfully.

In the hour before dawn, the scouts broke camp and pressed on.

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