Salamandastron [Redwall 5] by Brian Jacques & Gary Chalk

Author:Brian Jacques & Gary Chalk [Jacques, Brian & Chalk, Gary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, General, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Epic, Action & Adventure, Animals, Redwall Abbey (Imaginary Place)
ISBN: 9780099143611
Google: wl9nWVGT5WIC
Amazon: 0142501522
Publisher: Firebird
Published: 1992-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Suddenly Thrugg could stand it no more. The sound of the infant dormouse being tormented by the crows drove him into a towering rage. Kicking, butting and punching birds, he arose from the tangle with blood dripping from his bared teeth. Fighting his way across the dry streambed, he grabbed hold of Dumble and Rocangus. Standing in front of them, he hefted the laden haversack in both paws and began swinging it like some terrible engine of destruction. Crows exploded into the air, wing over beak over tail over tip. Dark feathers showered the air, together with beak fragments and broken claws. The haversack was a thudding, banging, swishing blur of destruction as Thrugg's head went back and his mouth opened like a scarlet cavern.

"RedwaaaaaaaaallUll!!"

The crows fled, some hopping, others flapping as they fought each other to get away from Thrugg's mighty retaliation.

As late afternoon faded into evening, the three companions sat tending to each other's wounds.

Thrugg winced as Rocangus dug a beak fragment from his back. "Ouch! Go easy there, you feathered fiend!"

"Hah, stop grievin', planktail. Ye'll live. Haud still while Ah get this crowclaw out o' yer thick heid."

Baby Dumble was counting his war wounds. "Two, free, six, nine, twennyfifteen. Wow, that's a lot!"

"Aye, an' that's a lot out there, matey. Look!"

They followed the direction of Thrugg's pointing paw. Halfway between the pinegrove and the streambed the land was black with crows. They crowded together b'ke beetles in a cellar.

Thrugg sat down with his back against the sun-dried bank. "Nobeast could fight off that many, Rocangus. We're done for."

The falcon preened his tattered breastfeathers. "Aye, but by the crag we'll go oot a-fightin'!"

Dumble searched in the sand of the streambed. "I wanna

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new stick to fight more crones wiv!"

Slowly the sun began sinking in the west. The sky was a warm peach color with dove-gray pennants of cloud showing silver underbellies. Heatwaves still shimmered in the distance.

Thrugg sat awhile, gazing sadly at the beauty of it all. "Hmm, it ain't too bad for an' old streamdog like me. I've had a good innin's an' enjoyed meself. But you two young uns, I wish you could've seen more seasons to yore string afore you 'ave to go. Still an* all, we're all good mateys, so we'll take a load of 'em with us an' go out in the good company of each other."

Dumble had found a stick. He peered over the bank, wrinkling his nose, fearless in his babyish innocence. "Why are all the crones quiet, 'Ocangus?"

The young falcon winced as he settled his fractured wing right. "Ye'd best hope those birds stay quiet, laddie. When the beasties start up their chantin' again, that's when they'll come for us."

"Can Dumble have some squashy blackb'rries an' pears, MistaThugg?"

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