The Bellmaker Part 20

The mousebabe shook his paw vigorously in Blaggut's face. "We don' swear. S'not nice t'swear, y'get sent t' bed."

269.

' 'Bless yer 'eart, messmate.'' The dullard searat grinned. "I don't mean swear 'n' curse, I means we gotta take a vow t'getner, a solemn oath."

The three conspirators placed their paws together, and the Dibbuns repeated the words that Blaggut recited: "I take this oath."

"We take an oaf."

"That me liver 'n' lights be ripped out if'n any of us breathes a word of our secret to anybeast, so 'elp ee!"

"Hurr e liver be gripped when ee lights be out an' ee secret breathin' of anybeasters to 'elp ee!"

Blaggut scratched his head as both Dibbuns smiled at him.

"I never 'card it said like that afore, but I s'pose it'll 'ave ter do, mates!"

An air of gloom hung over the breakfast tables in Cavern Hole. Blind Simeon wrinkled his whiskers in disgust as he took his seat.

"Phew! Has somebeast moved the orchard compost heap into here, Father Abbot?'' he complained.

Saxtus prodded the mess on his plate glumly. "Evidently you haven't heard of an old seagoing dish that Slipp our new cook has served up. It's called skilly an' duff. Like to try some?"

"Stick to plain honest bread, my friend, you'll live longer," said Mother Mellus as she broke a fresh-baked farl and pa.s.sed half to Simeon. "Dearie me, no wonder searats are so wicked and wild. I'd be like that too if I had to live on a diet of the dreaded skilly an* duff!"

Slipp forestalled further conversation by pus.h.i.+ng in a trolley piled high with platters of his creation. The sea- 270.

rat captain was quite proud of his newfound cooking skills. Clad in a clean white smock and a tall chef's hat several sizes too small for him, he swaggered up to a table. "Skilly an' duff, that's the stuff t'put a curl in yer whiskers, made by me own fair paws. Anybeast want some more?"

Suddenly a lot of Redwallers left the tables, claiming that they felt the need for fresh fruit from the orchard. Ladle in paw, Slipp looked from the empty places to his few remaining victims left sitting at the main table.' 'Fruit from the orchard? That'll never put a back on ye like velvet an* a twinkle in yer eye. Skilly an' duff, now that's a real brekkist for ye! C'mon, Father h'Abbot, yew ain't touched yores yet. It'll be gone cold. 'Ere, let ole Slipp freshen it up with some that's fresh cooked."

Saxtus averted his head from the foul-smelling mess that Slipp was piling onto the cold contents of his plate. "You'll excuse me asking, Slipp, but what do you put into this, er, skilly an' duff?" he asked. Slipp licked the ladle and winked. "Haharr, that's an ole seadog's secret; a bit o' this an' a touch o' that, las.h.i.+n's of wild garlic, white dead nettle, some cleavers an' just a smidgeon o' dogwort."

Saxtus clapped a paw to his mouth and hurried from the table.

Slipp hooked a clawful of the steaming concoction from Saxtus's plate, straight into his mouth. "Wot's wrong with 'im? Tastes fine fine."

Mellus' s huge paw crashed down on the table. "Enough is enough! The only thing you've ever cooked up is roguish schemes. Clear this ... this ... garbage 271.

away, and bury it somewhere deep to let nature take care of it. Now!"

Slipp drew himself up haughtily, about to protest when the badger seized him by one ear and shook him. "You are a cheat and a liar! You've never cooked in your life! When you've cleared this lot up I want to see you out in the kitchens. Scrub all the pots and pans and spread rose-water round until every trace of skilly an* duff, sight or smell, is gone!"

"Yowowow, lemme go, stripedog! Ooch ouch!"

Brothers Fingle and Mallen took over cooking duties, and a satisfactory lunch of summer salad, cheeses, and apple pie with meadowcreain brought the Abbey back onto an even keel. The day wore on, warm, sunny and still; bees droned lazily from flower to flower. Redwallers went on with their daily ch.o.r.es, tending crop and orchard, harvesting honey, reading and studying, or helping with the upkeep of Abbey buildings. Tranquillity was the keynote, with the high green mantle of Mossflower shading the outer walls on three sides, leaving the west ramparts open to sunny flatlands where larks sang and gra.s.shoppers chirruped.

Toward mid-noon Blaggut put the finis.h.i.+ng touches to a pair of boats he had made by halving an old cider barrel lengthways. The searat was proud of a previously unknown skill he had discovered that day-boatbuilding. He had sawed the barrel neatly from top to bottom, making two b.u.t.t-ended little vessels. A cask lid cut in half provided two keels for balance. Inside the boats he wedged short, flat planks for seats. Two big ash staves served as masts, with a third, cut in half, completing the cross spars, 272.

from which hung twin, much-patched sails. They had done sterling service as tablecloths and were donated by Sister Sage. The mousebabe and Furrtil the molemaid scurried round the searat's footpaws, squeaking excitedly.

"Which un's mine, Blackguts, sir?"

"Hurr, they'm bootiful s.h.i.+ps!"

"Can us 'ave rowers to row with?"

"Oi'm callen moi s.h.i.+p ee Daffydill"

"Mine be called Watermouseyl"

Blaggut sat dow.n on the pond edge sipping cider that he had drained from the barrel into a bowl before construction began. The searat was as happy as the two Dib-buns.

"Haharr, mates, I'm a boatbuilder! All me life I've been called stoopid an' clumsy an' thick as two short planks. But I ain't, I got clever paws, I kin make boats, good 'uns!"

"Write our s.h.i.+ps' names on 'em, Blackguts, sir. Oh, please!"

Blaggut had hoped they would not ask him this. "Er, well, mebbe Sister Sage oughter do that, s.h.i.+pmates. I never learned no writin', bein' a seara-er, carpenter, there wasn't no need fer such things. Aye, we'll ask the Sister. 'Sides, she prob'ly kin write proper fancy; I bet good ole mouseladies like 'er does writin' a lot. But 'old 'ard, mateys. Wot about our bargain-you know, the secret treasure you was gonna show me?''

The mousebabe planted his paws on tiny, fat hips. "Nono, first we wanna sail, see if these s.h.i.+ps work right!"

Blaggut finished his cider. "Yore an 'ard master, mousebabe. Come on then, let's launch 'em."

The Belhnaker 273.

The boats were an instant success. They sailed wonderfully on the slightest breeze and in the absence of any wind could be rowed easily with the paddles Blaggut had made. All the Abbey Dibbuns gathered at the pond's edge, anxious to take their turn being ferried about on the Abbey pond. Both mousebabe and mole-maid were in their element, sailing, paddling, and roaring orders.

"Hurr, you'm sit yurr an' ee sit thurr. 'Old on naow!"

"Two atta time, on'y two atta time. Who's next?"

"Oi'll take ee round yon bullyrushers!"

"Watch out for big fishes an' pirates!"

Blaggut lounged on the bank, proudly watching his two new boats on their maiden voyages. After a while, Slipp came shuffling wearily along and slumped down beside his former boatswain. "Enjoyin* yerself are yer, 'avin' a good time?" he asked.

"Aye thankee, Cap'n. See the boats I made fer my Dibbuns!"

Slipp cast a weary eye over the two sleek little craft. "So that's 'ow you been fritterin' the day away. I mighta known, you great lazy loaf ead!"

Blaggut had not expected Slipp to make any nice comments on his achievements. "Buildin" boats ain't fritterin' time away, Cap'n. Wot 'ave you been up to all day?"

Slipp waved airily as if it were no big thing. "Oh, they made me 'ead cook, I'm in charge of all the kitchens. Did yer taste my skilly an* duff at brekkfist?"

"Aye, Cap'n. It was 'orrible. Yew make a better Cap'n than a cook. The bread was nice, though. Did y'make that?"

Slipp was no stranger to fibbing. "Baked the bread meself," he lied glibly. "It was those Abbey mice who 274.

made the skilly an' duff; they ignored me instructions." Blaggut leaned close to SHpp's ear and whispered, "Cap'n, we don't 'ave to go 'untin' fer booty tonight, so don't you worry about that black shadder we saw."

SHpp felt the hairs on his nape rise with fear. "Shurrup, y'fool. Shut yer mouth! I tol* you never to mention that black shadow again long as you live. It didn't 'appen, d'ye hear me? There's no such thing as black shadows. Any'ow, why don't we 'ave to go lookin' fer booty tonight?"

Blaggut told his Captain all, from the boatbuilding to the oath he had taken with the Dibbuns. He smiled slyly at Slipp and winked. Slipp cuffed him roughly on the nose. "Y'mean to tell me that those two Dibthings know where there's secret treasure 'idden, an' yore sittin' 'ere like a loungin' lobster watchin' em sail round a pond?" "Bargain's a bargain, Cap'n," said Blaggut, rubbing his nose tenderly. "They gotta try out their new boats. Besides, I got to stay 'ere an' keep an eye on the liddle rascals in case one falls in."

Tarquin L. Woodsorrel came strolling up and wagged an ear at Slipp curtly. "C'mon, Slippy ol' rat, back to work, wot? Lots of sticky pots t' be washed; they've been making honey pudden an' maple toffee apples. Sticks the pots 'n' pans up frightfully, y'know. Mellus sent me, said if y'don't come she'll be down here an' fetch you herself. Y'don't want that, wot?"

Blaggut stared nonplussed at his companion. "But, Cap'n, I thought you said you was the cook in charge?"

Tarquin chuckled at the thought of Slipp ruling the kitchens. "Oh he's in charge all right, Lord of all the The Belhnaker 275.

greasy dishwater. King of the pots 'n' pans. Well, old thing, are you comin'?"

Slipp gnawed a sticky claw, his bravado shattered by the thought of the fearsome Mellus standing over him, inspecting each dish to see it was clean. He clung to Blaggut, whimpering, "Don't let'im take me, mate. You wouldn't let them crooly use yer ole Cap'n as a galley slave, would yer?"

"Leave the Cap'n 'ere, sir," Blaggut appealed to Tarquin. "Those young uns need watchin'. I've gotta take the molemaid an' the mousebabe fer their afternoon stroll. Ahoy there, you two, come on now."

Tarquin winked at Slipp. "Righto, but don't forget those pots and pans or Mellus will remind you with a ladle, wot?"

The two Dibbuns held Blaggut's paws as they guided him around the back of the main Abbey building. As they went, he questioned them. "You sh.o.r.e that it's the real secret 'idden treasure of Redwall's h'Abbey?"

The mousebabe gave an exasperated sigh at Blaggut's ignorance. "Phwaw! 'Course we sure. It's the mos' se-cretest treasure in alia world, innit Furrtil?"

The molemaid smiled and tapped her nose knowingly. "Yurr, that et be, an' oanly us'n's know whurr et be buried."

At the southeast gable of the Abbey the mousebabe planted his back firmly against the wall and began striding out in measured steps, counting. Blaggut and Furrtil followed.

"One, two, three, five, seven, six, twennyfour, elev-enteen..."

The molemaid nodded her head in admiration. "Burr, 276.

oi wished oi knowed 'ow to count in numbers loik ee mousebaby do, ee'm tumble clever!"

Blaggut watched the little figure striding boldly out.

"Twennyfifty, sixfortyeight, two again, leventy-twelve ..."

"Bless me, eddication's a wunnerful thing; look at 'im go!"

The mousebabe halted at the southeast corner of the outer wall, and he pointed down.

"There, you has to dig now!"

Blaggut looked at the spot. "Who dug the 'ole in the first place?"

Furrtil pointed a digging claw at herself. "Oi did, zurr. Ho t'wurr 'aid wurk, oi tell ee!"

Blaggut leaned up against the wall. "Yore a mole. Why can't you dig the treasure up?"

The mousebabe looked at him as if he had taken leave of his senses. "Cos she messed up 'er frock diggin' it inna first place. D'you want to get *er sended off t' bed again, silly!"

With a look of long suffering Blaggut knelt down to dig.

The black shadow fell over him.

Startled, he looked up in time to see the hooded figure on the walltop draw back out of sight. Grabbing the Dib-buns' paws, die searat rushed them off across the Abbey grounds. Suddenly the quiet summer afternoon was laden with unspeakable dread for him.

The molemaid held on to her mobcap as he whisked them along. "Whurr be ee rushen us'n's off to, zurr?"

"Save yer breath, little un-keep runnin'!"

"But wot about ee gurt secret treasure?"

277.

"Ferget it. C'mon, back to the pond."

The mousebabe broke away and sped off yelling, "Ahoy ahoy, back to our boats!"

They made it back to the pond when the Joseph bell tolled out a single boom. Teatime. Trestles had been set up for a summer orchard tea. Strawberries and cream, toffee apples, yellow dandelion bread, and dark, fizzy elderberry cordial.

Tarquin placed a slab of white celery cheese on some dandelion bread, took a bite, chewed critically, ears flapping slowly, then washed it down with a beaker of the cordial. "First rate, top hole! All in order, compliments to the cook, couldn't ask for nicer, grade-one tuck!"

"Keep talking. While you're spouting, you aren't scoffing!"

Tarquin wrinkled his nose at Sister Rose's remark. "So beautiful, yet so cruel, marm. Pray be seated. I'll join you presently, if I may."

He turned and stalked to where Blaggut and Slipp were seated side by side, both scrubbed and wearing clean tunics. The hare wagged a warning paw at them. "Best behavior now, you chaps. Mind y'manners an' don't go piggin' everything in sight."

Me 1 his murmured quietly to Simeon, "That's rich coming from Woodsorrel the walloper; don't go pigging everything in sight. Did you hear him?"

"A case of glutton shall speak unto glutton, I'd say!" Simeon smiled as he nodded.

Saxtus rang his table bell and everybeast folded paws and lowered their eyes. Brother Mallen nudged the two searats to do likewise. Then Father Abbot of Redwall said grace.

278 .

"Thanks to seasons, praise the fates, For this peace within our gates.

Welcome, friends, who gladly toil, In our fertile Redwall soil.