The Rogue Crew

A bunch of quills rattled as Ruggan gave Drogbuk’s rear a light kick. “Silence, y’ole fool. If’n they were goin’ to attack us, they’d have done it by now. Cap’n Rake, look!”

A convoy of bats came looming toward them, headed by one larger than the rest. Between them a line of bats were carrying the writhing form of the adder which had been hunting their young. All that could be heard was the hissing of the injured reptile. Silently the bats bore it out, over the deep abyss, holding it there until the big bat motioned with one wing. They dropped the snake, and it fell, down, down, finally disappearing from sight into the waters far below. The big bat gave a piercing squeak to the others gathered on the opposite side of the chasm. In a group they winged soundlessly back, bearing a long, rough cable of woven root and vine.

The big bat spoke in a low whisper to Sergeant Miggory. “I am Hiposir, Bigwing of this tribe . . . this tribe. You are Stonepaw . . . Stonepaw . . . saviour of our babes and old ones . . . old ones. With one blow, Stonepaw . . . one blow . . . you rid us of the great Poisontooth . . . Poisontooth. Hiposir thanks you. I go now . . . go now. Follow the sweet smell . . . the sweet smell. Long may ye live . . . live . . . live.”

Hiposir glided off, followed by all his tribe, in a rush of wing noise and squeaking.

Uggo Wiltud was first to break the uncanny silence which followed the bats’ departure. He winked roguishly at Sergeant Miggory. “Good ole Stonepaw the serpent stunner, eh!”

Miggory picked up the loose cable end. “That’ll be h’enough out o’ you, young un. Me name’s Miggory, Colour Sarn’t Nubbs Miggory, h’in fact. Beggin’ yore pardon, Cap’n, but wot are we supposed t’do with this, h’a bloomin’ tightrope walk?”

Rake took the cable from the sergeant. He gave it a tug. “Ah think ’tis tied to somethin’ over yonder. Here, mah bonnies, lend a few wee paws an’ we’ll see, eh?”

Willing paws heaved on the thick cable, stowing it behind as it payed out.

Old Drogbuk roared excitedly, “Lookit, ’ere she comes . . . lookit lookit!”

It was a curious affair which they heaved across the rift. A wide, primitive-looking net, woven from roots, fibres and branches.

Posy clapped her paws. “It’s a bridge. I wonder who made it.”

Lieutenant Scutram shook his ears happily. “We’ll never know, miss, but a jolly good vote o’ thanks to ’em, whoever they flippin’ well were. Come on, chaps, take firm hold. We don’t want the bally thing fallin’ down that confounded hole, wot!”

They hauled away until the structure was taut. Skor grabbed the original single cable, securing it several times around the bulky taproots of some woodland giant whose ends penetrated the tunnel ceiling. “Right, who’s goin’ to try it, eh?”

Even before he had finished speaking, Swiffo was out on the crude network, picking his way nimbly across.

Skor roared after his youngest son, “Go easy, ye young rip. Slow down or ye’ll fall!”

Balancing on his rudder, Swiffo swayed playfully, halfway across the abyss. He was followed by the equally nimble Log a Log Dandy.

Swiffo shouted to his father, “Yore next, Pa—but stow yore axe lest ye trip on it!”

Skor’s huge, booming laughter echoed around as he gave Corporal Welkin Dabbs a pat on the back, which almost sent him sprawling. “Impudent young blood pudden. Wouldn’t ye just love to have a son like ’im, eh?”

Swiffo reached the other side and danced a little jig. “C’mon, mates, let’s go an’ find a sweet smell to follow!”

Skor stepped gingerly out onto the raftlike network over the chasm. He crouched there wobbling and calling out, “Never mind dancin’ around over there, ye scallawag. Get back here an’ help me across this contraption!” Fortunately the frame held whilst everybeast made his way across, with Dandy shouting advice.

“Don’t look down or shut yore eyes, mates, just keep starin’ straight ahead at this side. Ahoy there, Drander, you’ll have to tote ole Drogbuk across on yore back, or he’ll hang around there ’til next season!”

The ancient hedgehog put up a struggle as Drander heaved him up onto his back. “Lemme go, ye great omadorm—I ain’t goin’, I tell ye!”

The big young hare held Drogbuk firmly and started out. “Oh, yes, you are, sah, so hold on now. Phew! When was the last time you took a bloomin’ bath?”

They gathered on the other side at the continuation of the tunnel. Corporal Welkin Dabbs checked everybeast out quickly. “They’re all present an’ correct, sah, everyone safe over!”

Captain Rake saluted. “Thank ye, Dabbs. Right, Sergeant, form these bonny lads up an’ let’s be on our way.”

With torches flaring, they marched off down the gloomy passage, kicking up dust as they went.

Lancejack Sage wiped a paw across her mouth. “I’m absoballylutely dyin’ of the thirst, wot!”

Corporal Dabbs, a bit of an old campaigner, gave her some timeworn advice. “Try suckin’ a pebble, miss. That should help, wot.”

Sage was in no mood for old remedies. “Oh, go an’ boil your blinkin’ head, Corp. All that gives you is a dusty mouth. I’ve tried it.”