The Rogue Crew

Skor shook his head at his young son. “See wot ye’ve done, upset the creatures, ye scamp!”

Sergeant Miggory held up a paw for silence. “It ain’t Swiffo wot’s h’upset ’em, sah. H’it’s a snake.”

Skor stepped back from the chamber. “Wot makes ye say that, Sar’nt?”

Miggory confirmed his suspicion. “That smell, that sound, h’I’d know h’it anywhere. There’s a serpent in there, stalkin’ the bat babes.”

Lieutenant Scutram waggled his ears. “Hmm, stands to reason, I’d say. Just the place for those confounded reptiles, a ready-made larder o’ vittles. Could ye say what type o’ snake the blighter is, Sarn’t?”

Miggory drew closer to the chamber, sniffing the air. “A h’adder, sah. I’d stake me scut h’on it!”

Skor made to march onward. “Well, let’s hope there’s no more ahead, eh!”

Rake Nightfur confronted him. “Ye cannae just march off an’ leave the babbies t’be eaten by a snake. ’Tain’t right, Skor!”

The Rogue Crew Chieftain stared oddly at Rake. “Then wot d’ye propose we do? Adders can kill with a single strike—poisonfangs, we call ’em. Best left alone, eh?”

The hare captain turned away, throwing a nod in Miggory’s direction. “Right, Sarn’t, we’ll deal with this.”

Miggory’s craggy features broke into a grin. “D’ye mean a quick decoy an’ the ole one-two, sah?”

Rake winked at him. “Aye, that should do the job, Ah ken!”

The word went round like wildfire.

“Surely they ain’t goin’ t’take on a bloomin’ adder, wot?”

“They must be mad—us Guosim stays away from adders!”

“Well, come on, buckoes, we’ve got t’see this!”

Lieutenant Scutram gave an order. “You beasts, stay away from the chamber. Ye can watch, but stay still an’ quiet. Cap’n Rake an’ the sarn’t can deal with an adder. I’ve seen’em do it before. So stand clear!”

It was indeed an adder, a fully grown female complete with black chevrons decorating its scales. Slowly, it was making its way up the chamber wall toward the tiny hanging bats. The older batwives were squeaking piteously, unable to deter the snake from its purpose. Unaware of the peril, the little ones squeaked along with their elders.

With sinister, unhurried grace, the predator slithered up the wall, latching on to outcrops for support. Rake sheathed one of his blades, arming himself with the other and a torch. He nodded to the sergeant.

“Are ye fit’n’ready, mah friend?”

Miggory was balanced lightly, both paws clenched. “Aye, let’s h’open the ball, sah!”

He dropped to one side of the snake as Rake inched forward and touched its tail tip with the lighted torch.

Then things happened with a speed which amazed the onlookers. The snake spun around, jaws open, fangs exposed. Captain Rake thrust the claymore blade edge-on at it. Instinctively, the reptile struck, clamping its mouth on the blade edge. Before it could let go, Sergeant Miggory slipped in beneath it. With lightning rapidity, he delivered two stunning uppercuts, right under the adder’s jaws.

Bang! Whack!

Rake watched the snake slide off his blade, senseless. “Mah thanks t’ye, Sarn’t. Ah think two blows is enough.”

Miggory picked up the snake, checking its fangs. “Never needed more’n two blows to break h’a sarpint’s fangs, sah. That’n won’t be a-feedin’ off baby bats no more!” He tossed the unconscious adder to one side and was immediately surrounded by young hares and sea otters.

“Blood’n’thunder, Sarge, how did ye do that? I never seen anythin’ so fast in all me life!”

One of the Rogue Crew seemed a bit cynical. “’Twas all some sort o’ trick, wasn’t it, Sergeant?”

Miggory’s fisted paws wove a dazzling pattern around the otter’s face. He leaned back against the tunnel wall, awestruck. The tough veteran hare chuckled lightly.

“Allus remember, young sah, the quickness o’ the paw can deceive the eye—h’an’ like h’as not, blacken h’it!”

Lieutenant Scutram gave the order to move on. “Right, chaps, let’s leave the batbabes t’their nap an’ the serpent to a jolly sore mouth when it wakens. Fall in by the right, straighten up, but mind your nut on the ceilin’, especially you, Drander!”

No sooner were they on the march again than old Drogbuk started complaining. “I’m starvin’ t’death. Don’t we even get a mizzuble bite to eat?”

Skor trod on the back of his footpaw, making him stumble. “Give yore tongue a rest, y’ole famine-faced nuisance. There ain’t vittles nor drink for any of us, so quit moanin’ about it. Just shut up an’ keep up!”

Trug Bawdsley was startled by an ominous rumble. “What’s goin’ on chaps? Is the blinkin’ tunnel collapsin’, wot?”

Big Drander answered mournfully, “’Tis this flippin’ stomach o’ mine, it won’t stop grumblin’.”

A loud gurgling groan confirmed this. Drander smiled wanly. “See, I told ye. The jolly old tum’s got a mind of its own!”

Corporal Welkin Dabbs glared at the culprit. “Keep that up, bucko, an’ I’ll put your stomach on a charge!”

Drander raised his voice over his protesting abdomen. “I say, steady on, Corp. That ain’t fair!”

Captain Rake stifled a chuckle. “If ye can sing a bonny tune, I’ll drop all charges on ye, Drander.”