The Rogue Crew

Bend yore backs until ye think they’re broke broke

broke!”

It was such a catchy tune that Posy found herself bumping a footpaw to keep time.

Swiffo cautioned her, “Don’t do that, pretty one—ye’ll put the rowers off.”

Uggo snorted. “No, she won’t. Posy’s just helpin’ ’em along.” He tapped the back of the Guosim rower sitting in front of him. “Ahoy, mate, you Guosim certainly knows how to row. D’ye mind if’n I borrow yore paddle an’ have a try?”

The oar shrew was big and tough. He spat into the stream, turning scornfully to Uggo. “Lissen, daftspikes. Try puttin’ a paw near my paddle an’ I’ll belt ye right inta next season with it!”

Uggo’s voice sounded small and apologetic. “Sorry, sir. I was only tryin’ to ’elp.”

The Guosim, a hard-faced warrior, curled his lip. “Only tryin’ to ’elp, eh? Gettin’ us to lose a full night’s sleep, an’ paddlin’ like madbeasts round these streams. You’ve done enuff as ’tis, fool. So belt up, or get belted!”

Swiffo clouted the back of the shrew’s head sharply. “Lissen, mudsnout, if’n ye feel like beltin’ anybeast, then why not try me fer size, eh? Go on, I’ll belt ye into that stream afore ye can raise a paw. So just shut yore trap an’ row!”

Without a word, the Guosim went straight back to paddling.

Swiffo whispered to his two hedgehog friends, “An’ you two stop bumpin’ the side o’ the boat. Don’t argue wid Guosim beasts, an’ grab some sleep whilst ye can!” The young sea otter grinned broadly, winking at them both.

They drifted into sleep on the dark night-shaded stream, cheered up by the fact that they had a good companion, and a real tough one, to boot.

Despite the fact that they were eager to exact retribution on Razzid Wearat and his crew, the march in search of the vessel Greenshroud was both long and arduous. This was mainly owing to the scorching pace set up by both hares and otters trying to outmarch each other. It became a question of regimental pride on the Long Patrol’s side, opposed by a display of Rogue Crew toughness and stamina. Neither side was prepared to concede a fraction to the other. Skor Axehound, bringing up the rear with Captain Rake Nightfur, began to fall some way behind. Neither had spoken a word thus far, merely pressing onward, spitting dust and fine sand.

The big sea otter finally halted, nodding toward the marchers. “This has gone far enough, Rake. They’re goin’ to run themselves into the ground if’n they keep on like that!”

The hare captain caught his breath, nodding. “Aye, Ah’m with ye there, mah friend. D’ye ken they’d hear ye if ye called a halt?”

“Let me give it a try, eh!” Skor spat on his paws, cupping them about his mouth. His massive chest swelled as he sucked in air. Then he let out a bellow which had Rake covering both ears. “On my command . . . haaaaaaaalt!”

Surveying the dust cloud which arose over the marchers, Skor chuckled. “Haven’t lost my touch, it’d seem!”

Both sides sat in the sand, heads down, fighting for breath but still defiant.

“By the left, what’ve we jolly well stopped for, wot?”

“Search me, I was just gettin’ warmed up!”

Neither side would admit tiredness. They carried on thus until Sergeant Miggory (one of the few who was still breathing normally) sprang up to attention. “Silence h’in the ranks. Offisahs’n’chieftains present!”

Skor strode up and down, shaking his big bearded head. “If we met up with those vermin now, wot good would any of ye be, eh? I order ye to stop this foolishness. Captain Rake, would you like to say a word?”

His companion fixed them all with a reproving glare. “This is nae a race, ye ken. Skor Axehound’s right, an’ Ah’m surprised at the behaviour of mah Long Patrol officers. Whit were ye thinkin’ of, eh? Right now, let’s do things proper. Take a rest for a while, but no food, just a small drink each, tae quench the dust. Then we’ll be up an’ marchin’ again in good order. Lieutenant Scutram, ye’ll do us the honour o’ a marchin’ song, an’ I mean a proper sauncy air, not a stampede scramble. Understood?”

Scutram threw him a smart salute. “As y’say, Cap’n, I’ll keep it to a brisk march, sah!”

When the march resumed, things went a lot better, progressing at an even pace. Much to everybeast’s amusement, Skor strode at the head of the parade, hurling his battleaxe high and catching it deftly as Scutram’s tuneful tones rang out.

“Chest out! Chin in! Left right together!

Eyes front! Back straight! Can ye smell that heather?

“Derry down the fields of clover,

see the gold sun dawning,

ain’t it grand to be a rover?

“Chest out! Chin in! Left right together!

Eyes front! Back straight! Can ye smell that heather?

“O’er the deep sea gulls a-wheeling,

larks are soaring inland

on we go, behind us leaving,

pawprints in the sand.

“Chest out! Chin in! Left right together!

Eyes front! Back straight! Can ye smell that heather?

“Hope my love will wait for me,

with a fond heart yearning,

aye, she’ll smile with joy to see,

her warrior returning.

“Chest out! Chin in! Left right together!

Eyes front! Back straight! Can ye smell that heather?”