Eulalia! by Brian Jacques

Author:Brian Jacques
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Epilogue

"Extract from the writings of a badgermaid."

Fourteen seasons is no great length of time to most elders, but to me it is the sum of my entire life so far. A few days ago I finished reading the Family Chronicle, which was written by my mother, Lady Salixa of Salamandastron. Maybe I have not lived through the adventures of my parents and their friends, but I have a lifetime ahead. So this morning I started to write my own Chronicle. Who knows, mayhaps I have inherited some writing skil from my mother.

However, with al the goings on around here, it is hard to concentrate. Did I tel you, tonight is the Great Midsummer Eve Feast. The shore in front of our mountain wil be decked with lanterns, and garlanded with blossoms. It's going to be a time for wonderful food, happy music and great entertainment. Then guess what? Tomorrow afternoon I wil be boarding the good ship Eulalia, bound on a voyage to Redwal Abbey. Such excitement!

But let me tel you how al this came to be, back to my Chronicle. You must remember that being young, I rely on family and friends for certain information about events that occurred when I was a mere babe, or even farther back, before I was born. I have a few to thank for their time

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and patience in assisting me. My mother, Salixa, and my father, Gorath, Lord of Salamandastron. My Grand Uncle, General Mul ; Aunt Maudie, the regimental Colonel Cook and Caterer; and rascal y old

Uncle Rangval, unofficial Scout in Charge to the Long Patrol. Also the various Guosim shrews, otters and Redwal ers I have encountered when the Eulalia makes her annual voyage from the River Moss, which they tel me is not far from the Abbey.

Wel , it seems that when Eulalia first came to our mountain, in the final days of that long-gone summer, there was widespread rejoicing. A feast, which lasted four days, took place. It was during the final evening of the celebrations, everybeast was seated around a fire on the shore, singing, feasting and enjoying those last warm days of the season. A young hedgehog, Orkwil Prink, made the remark that soon the fal ing leaves of autumn would be sticking to his headspikes. This seemed to affect Old Lord Asheye greatly, his jovial mood deserted him, and he sat there in a state of deep depression.

Everybeast present thought the ancient badger had merely fal en asleep, because he was very old, and it was getting quite late. Not wishing to waken Lord Asheye, the Long Patrol hares stopped roaring out rowdy barrack room ditties. My father turned to my mother, who had not sung thus far. Knowing she possessed a sweet, gentle voice, he persuaded her to give a rendition of the little bal ad she had performed for him that night beneath the stars on the plateau. Obligingly, she began singing.

"Let me wander here forever, through the glades where once I played.

Long ago in carefree seasons, mid the noontide sun and shade.

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