The Long Patrol: A Tale From Redwall by Brian Jacques; Allan Curless

Author:Brian Jacques; Allan Curless
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780142402450
Publisher: Firebird
Published: 1997-01-02T02:00:00+00:00

BOOK THREE

The Ridge

Two hours after dawn the next day, four logboats plied the waters of the broad stream north by west from Redwall. Fore-mole Diggum and his team crouched uneasily in the boats, some of them with cloaks thrown over their heads. Moles are not noted for being great sailors, preferring dry land to water.

"Boo urr, 'taint natcheral t'be afloaten abowt loik this!"

"Hurr nay, oi'm afeared us'n's moight be a sinkin' unner-water!"

Log-a-Log dug his paddle deep, scowling at them. ' 'Belay that kind o' talk, I ain't never lost a beast off n a boat o' mine yet. Quit the wailin' an'

moanin', willyer!"

Skipper stuffed bread and cheese in his mouth, winking at his otter crew as they gobbled a hasty breakfast. "Ooh, 'e's an 'eartless shrew, that'n is! Ahoy there, moles, come an' join us in a bite o' brekkfist, mates."

Gurgan Spearback, swigging from a flask of October Ale, noted the moles'

distress.

"Hearken, Skip, yon moles were a funny enough color afore ye offered 'em vittles—don't go makin' 'em any worse!"

201

2O2

Brian Jacques

Log-a-Log's companion Freckle pointed with her oarblade. "There 'tis, see, two points off'n the starboard bow!"

Part of the stream forked off down a narrow tributary. Steering the logboats into it, they followed the winding downhill course of the rivulet, wooden keels scraping on the bottom as they went. After a short distance, Log-a-Log waved his oar overhead in a circular motion.

"Bring all crafts amidships, sharp now, bow'n'stern broadsides!"

Four logboats were soon wedged lengthways against the flow, their stems and sterns resting on opposite shores of the narrow waterway. Gratefully, the moles scrambled ashore, kissing the ground in thanks for rneir safe landing.

Skipper and his otters went ahead to the point where the stream disappeared into a hillside.

"This is it, mates," announced Skipper. "Spread out an' search for a big boulder!"

By the time the rest arrived, the streamflow had dwindled a bit, owing to the course being blocked by the logboats.

Gurgan waded through it and climbed the hill to admonish Skipper. "Thou'rt still hurted, thee shouldn't ha' come!"

The tough otter scratched at one of his wounds, which was beginning to itch.

"Coupla scratches never stopped me doin' what I like, mate. Ahoy mere, mates, that's a good ole boulder ye found!"

The stone was partially sunk into the earth, but Foremole Diggum and his crew soon dug it out. Using a smaller rock as a chock, the otters levered the roundish mass of stone uphill, using shrew oars to move it. Gurgan threw his added weight into the task, while Foremole marked out a spot on the hilltop, calling, "Bring ee bowlder up to yurr!"

Once or twice the heavy stone rolled back on them, but they were determined creatures. Otters, shrews, moles, and the Wa-terhog Chieftain gritted their teeth and fought the boulder, fraction by fraction, until it rested on Foremole's mark. Sighting with a straight twig, Foremole ordered the boulder moved a bit this way and a bit that way. Finally satisfied, he took an oar and gave the boulder one hard shove with the paddle end.

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