23?

After supper the new recruits laid their paws upon the table and began drumming loudly until the dining hall reverberated to the noise. This was the prelude to a bit of fun traditional to Long Patrol.

Colonel Eyebright played his part well. Striding from the Officers Mess, he held up his pace stick for silence.

When it was quiet he began the ritual with a short rhyme.

“Who are these strange creatures, pray, Say who are you all, Stirring up a din an clatter In our dining hall?

Young Furgale rose in answer in time-honored manner.

“We are no strange creatures, sah, But perilous one an all, Tell Sergeant were the Long Patrol, Weve come to pay a call!

The Colonel bowed stiffly and marched back to the Mess, where he could be heard announcing to the waiting Clubrush:

“Wake up from your slumbers, Sergeant, dear, I think your new recruits are here.

Wild cheering and unbridled laughter greeted the appearance of Clubrush. He dashed out of the Officers Mess, roaring and glaring fiercely like the Drill Sergeant of every recruits nightmares. On these occasions a Sergeant always wore certain things, and Clubrush had dressed accordingly. Round his waist he wore a belt with dried and faded dock leaves hanging from itthese were supposed to be the ears of recruits that he had collected. Round his footpaws he trailed soft white rootsrecruits guts. Over one shoulder was a banderole of cotton thistles representing tails. AH over the Sergeants uniform were pinned bits and pieces of herb and fauna, supposedly the gruesome bits he had collected from sloppy recruits. Scowling savagely, he paced the tables, singing in a terri-fyingly gruff voice as he went:

“You orrible lollopy sloppy lot, You idle scruffy bunch! Ill ave yore tails off like a shot An boil em for me lunch!

You lazy loafin layabouts, Eres wot Ill do fer starters If you dont lissen when I shouts, Ill ave yore guts fer garters!

O mammas darlins, dont you cry, Yore dear ole Sergeants ere, Those foebeasts, why, theyre just small fry, Tis me youll learn to fear!

Ill ave yore earsnelbows,

You sweepins o the floors,

An long before the dawn shows,

Youll ave marched ten leagues outdoors.

O dreadful alf-baked dozy crowd, Ill stake me oath tis true. Long Patrol Warriors, tallnproud, Is wot Ill make of you!

Sergeant Clubrushs fierce demeanor changed instantly as he patted backs and shook paws of the young hares crowding round him.

“Welcome to me Patrol, buckoes, youll do us proud!

Cregga Rose Eyes had a handle for her axpikea thick pole, taller than herself. The wood was dark, hard, and sea-washed, like that of Russas stick. Long summers gone, somebeast had found it among the flotsam of the tide line. Now the Badger Lady rediscovered it, lying with a pile of other timber at the back of her forge. She worked furiously, far into the night, shaping, binding, fixing the awesome steel headpiece to its haft, speaking aloud her thoughts as she bored holes through wood and metal for three heavy copper rivets.

“Sleep well, Gormad Tunn, sleep on, Damug, Byral, and all your Rapscallion scum! I am coming, death is on the wind! On the day when you see my face, you and all of your evil followers will sleep the sleep from which there is no awakening!

Tammo had been gone too long for Russa Nodreys liking. She caught Perigords glance as she took up her stick. “No-beast takes this long tgather a few pawfuls of cress, Major. Somethins wrongIm goin to take a look!

Perigord buckled on his saber. “Tare, Turry, Rubbadub, guard the camp an supplies, the rest o you chaps, off yhunkers an come with us!

Traveling swiftly and silently they spread out, covering trees, riverbank, and shallows carefully. It was not long before they picked up Tammos trail. Captain Twayblade found the rock where she too had noted watercress growing underwater.

Pasque waved wordlessly from a short distance up the bank. Keeping voices to a barely audible murmur, they gathered round her. “A bundle o watercress. He was heresee, tis tied up with his shoulder belt.

Midge Manycoats inspected the trunk of a nearby sycamore. “Theres a knifepoint mark here. Looks like Tammo stuck his blade in this tree!

A pebble struck Rockjaw Grang on the side of his neck. “Owch! Ey up, somebeasts chuckin stones!

Out of the darkness above, a volley of small stones peppered Perigords troop, followed by rustling in the high foliage, sniggering laughs, and reedy voices calling, “Tammo! Tammo! Choohakka choohak! Where poor Tammo?

Russa shouted aloud at Perigord, “Lets get out o here!

The Major shot her a puzzled look. “Wot, you mean retreat, run away?

Shielding herself from the stones with an upraised paw, the squirrel winked several times at him. “Aye, lets run fer it afore were battered tdeath!

Perigord suddenly caught on; he cut and ran into the shallows. “Retreat, troop, everybeast out o here, quick as ylike. Retreat!

The Long Patrol were not used to running from anything, but they obeyed the command. Pounding upstream through the shallows, they halted out of range of the rain of pebbles.

Then Twayblade turned on Perigord, her long rapier flicking angrily at the air. “Retreat from a few stones n pebbles, what are we, praya flight of startled swallows?

Perigord laid the blame firmly at Russas paws. “Ask her!

The squirrel looked from one to the other. “Well, if ystop lookin all noble an outraged for a tick Ill tell ye. Really twas my fault. Ive traveled this riverbank afore, an if n Id been thinkin clear Id have stopped you pitchin camp where the Painted Ones roam.

Twayblade ceased twitching her rapier. “Painted Ones?

Russas bushy tail stood up angrily. “Aye, Painted Ones. Tribes o little tree rats is all they are, though they paints their fur blackngreen an lives in the boughs an leaves igh up. Huh! Some o the villains even attaches bushtails to themselves an masquerades as squirrels, the liddle blackguards, not fit tlick a decent squirrels paws! But theyre savage an dangerous, almost invisible when theyre among the treetops. Young Tammos in a bad fix if yask me!

The saturnine Lieutenant Morio nodded his agreement. “But no doubt youve got a plan, marm?

Russa had. She explained her strategy then slid off among the trees, leaving the hares to carry out their part of the scheme.

Sheathing his blade, Perigord began gathering flat heavy pebbles. “Slings out, chaps, load up an give em stones for supper!

Meanwhile, Tammo lay bound and gagged. The leader of the Painted Ones was digging teasingly at him with the point of his captured dirk, giggling wickedly each time his prisoner flinched.

“Chhakka hak! Ear you friends, alia gone now, soon dissa one cutcha up wirra you own knife. Den we eatcha! Hakka-chook!

Tammo had heard Russa and the hares and felt a mixture of anger and sadness when Perigord shouted retrc?.t and they ran off. Now he felt alone and deserted, certain too that something horrible was about to be inflicted upon him by the sadistic little tree creatures, who seemed very confident and contemptuous of landbeasts.

Then Tammos heart leapt as he heard the night air ring with a familiar war cry:

“Eulalia! Tis death on the wind! Eulalia! Charge!

Whacking, cracking, whizzing all around him, a veritable load of slingstones tore upward into the foliage. One rock big as a miniature boulder whipped by him, snapping off branches in its path. Good old Rockjaw Grang!

Turning his head to one side, Tammo peered into the gloom and saw small black and green figures retaliating, loosing peb-, bles from their own slings at the bold enemy below.

Russa had reached the far side of the trees. She skipped nimbly up into a stately elm and turned toward the distant din of battle. Thrusting the hardwood stick into her mouth she bit down on it and took off like a fish skimming through water, building up her speed as she raced through the treetops. Bright eyes cut through the darkness as she traveled even faster, the limbs and leaves passing in a blur, knowing that swiftness was the key to her mission. Sighting the back of the first Painted One, Russa grabbed her stick in one paw, still hurtling through the top terraces of foliage at a breakneck pace. She cracked the hardwood stick down between the rats ears, then, changing her angle at the same time and shooting in a downward curve, she battered mercilessly at anybeast in her path.

The hardwood stick was like a living thing in her paws, whacking heads and paws and cracking limbs. Overhead Russa spotted a glint of steel as a stream of orders was shouted down through the treetops. “Chakkachook! Killa! Killa! Swooping upward, she disposed of two more rats with a quick side-to-side jab to tiieir faces. Bulling into the leader of the Painted Ones, she laid him senseless with a single rap to his skull.

Russa grabbed the dirk and slashed through Tammos bonds. “Quick, get behind me an lock ypaws round my waist!

With a swift kick she sent the Painted Ones leader from the bough they were standing on. As soon as he started to fall, Russa leapt after him, with Tammo holding grimly on to her and shouting, “Were comin doooooooown!

Leaves, twigs, branches, limbs tore madly by in a rushing kaleidoscope of brown, black, and green. Tammos heart seemed to fly up into his mouth as all three plummeted earthward, Russas footpaws practically resting on the back of the rat as his body smashed a path down to the ground for them. They landed with a thrashing crashing sound, flattening an osier bush as the three bodies hit it.

Major Perigord whirled a slingstone upward, remarking as he let the pebble fly, “Just dropped in to join the jolly old scrap, wot? Bravo!

Letting go of Russa, Tammo flopped awkwardly onto the ground. Apart from various scratches he was surprised to find himself unharmed. Russa yanked the battered and unconscious tree rat leader upright and pushed him into Rockjaws open paws.

“Make light, get me a lantern, somebeast, “urry! she cried.

Tinder and flint hastily fired a lantern Riffle had brought. Bidding Riffle hold the light close to their captive, Russa grabbed the leader by one ear, hauling his head upright. Then she pressed the dirkpoint under his chin and called upward, imitating the tree rats speech, “Chakkachook! Dis beast a deadn, we cuttim ead off, you chukka more rocks. Dissa beast tellya true, chahakachah!

The slingstones stopped and a mass wail went up from the foliage.

“Yaaahaaaagg! Norra kill Shavvakamalla! Yaaahaaaagg!

Rockjaw Grang slung the senseless leader over his shoulder.

“Shavvakawot? Sithee, tis a big name for a lickle rat!

Sergeant Torgoch smiled at his friends broad accent. “Take im back tcamp. Well get a good nights sleep with their Chief as ostage, wot dye say, sah?

Drawing his saber, Perigord began backing his troop out of the area. “Capital idea! But wed best keep up the threats, just tmake sure they know we mean business. I say, are you hurt, old lad?

Tammo was limping on his right footpaw. “Little sprain, sah, Ill be right as rain in a bit.

The hares backed off, shouting horrible threats into the trees. “I say, you rips up there, leave us alone or well scoff your jolly old leader. Im quite serious, yknow. Chop chop, yum yum, eatim alia up, as you blighters say, savvy?

“Yaaaaahaaaag! No eata Shavvakamalla! Yaaahaaa-haaagghh!

“Hah! Ydont like that, do you? Well keep your bally dis-. tance or its fricassee of tree rat for brekkers!

“Aye, an well use the leftovers tmake tree rat turnover fer lunch, itll go nice with a bit o salad!

“Actually Id rather fancy a slice of tree rat tart. Dyou think thered be enough of him left tmake one, eh, Rock

By eck, goo an get thy own tree rat, Capn. Im doin all the carryin, so this uns mine. Bah goom, ell make a grand tree rat otpot with a crust oer is ead!

“Yaaaahaggaaaah! Nono tree rats otpot, yerra no eatim!

Major Perigord called a halt to the teasing. “Quite enough now, pack it in, chapsthose rottersve got the message, I think. I say, Rockjaw, I hope you were jokin about tree rat hotpot. Were not really goin to eat the blighter, yknow.

Rockjaw Grang plodded along with his burden, muttering a single word:

“Spoilsport!