Doomwyte

Nokko ruffled his pretty daughter’s ears. “Ye could say that, though there’s still that blinkin’ adder to deal with yet.”

Soilclaw surveyed the tunnel frontage, shaking his velvety head dubiously. “Burr, ee’m mostly ’ard, solid rock, zurr. B’aint a gurt lot us’ns can do abowt that, hurr, nay!”

Gobbo interrupted, “Why can’t ye, yore supposed t’be moles, why can’t youse block up the ’ole, eh?”

Nokko glared at his garrulous son. “Hoi, bucketmouth, give yer gob a rest, or I’ll boot yer tail straight inter that stream!”

Burgy waved a hefty digging claw. “Leave ’im be, zurr, ee young maister got a point. Yurr, Frubb, us’ll take ee lukk further in. Coom on, zurr, may’aps ee can ’elp uz.”

Gobbo was not very taken by the suggestion. “Who, me? No, mate, I don’t know nothin’ about blockin’ tunnels!”

Nokko grabbed him firmly by the ear. “Ho, don’t yer now, seems like yer had enuff t’say about it just now. Well, me son, ye can either go an’ ’elp those good moles in the tunnel, or stay out ’ere with me while I duck yer in the stream. Please yerself, the choice is up to you!”

Dragging his tail, and sticking out his lower lip, Gobbo skulked into the tunnel with Burgy and Frubb. “Huh, wot choice is that, eh? It’s not fair, Da!”

Nokko winked at Bosie and grinned. “I’ll tell yer wot else isn’t fair. The stuff on a bird, that’s not fair, it’s feathers. Ha ha…fur, feathers, get it?”

The ghost of a smile touched Bosie’s lips. “Och, very droll, Ah’m sure, mah friend. Er, by the by, did anybeast mention breakfast, ah’m fair famished!”

Garul, the elder Guosim, called to some shrews, “Set up a fire an’ we’ll see wot we can do.”

Whilst preparations were being made to serve food, Bisky and Spingo joined the Gonfelins, to gather firewood.

Gobbo came hurtling out of the tunnel, like a stone from a slingshot. He was gabbling uncontrollably. “Quick quick runrun the addersnake’s comin’ down the tunnel runrun or we’ll all be ate alive!”

He was leaping about, waving his paws frantically. Nokko tripped him neatly, sending him headlong into the stream. “Take a drink an’ get yer breath back, me ould son. Is the snake really comin’, mate?”

Frubb nodded. “Ho aye, zurr, that ee bees, though the way ee surrpint is throwen’ itself abowt, ’twill take summ toime. But ee’m a-cummen sure enuff!”

Dubble tried hard to stop himself trembling.

“W…w…wot’ll we do?”

Surprisingly, it was Gobbo who came up with the answer, summing up his solution in one word: “Fire!”

Nokko beamed as he hauled his son from the stream. “That’s the first sensible thing ye’ve said in yer life. Fire, nobeast can face heat an’ flames!”

Bisky began piling brushwood and twigs into the tunnel outlet. “Come on, mates, all paws to work. Spingo, get a light from the campfire!”

Shortly thereafter, everybeast was dashing about gathering anything that would burn, deadwood, dried rushes, moss, old ferns, twigs, branches and rotten bark.

Dusting off his paws, Gobbo stood, paws akimbo. “Hah, that should stop the scummy ould villain. Just let ’im poke ’is snout inter that. He’ll gerra good roastin, I kin tell yer!”

Bosie watched the blaze, nibbling on an apple he had found. “Aye, but fire’ll no last forever, mah friend. What then?”

Zaran took up her curious sword, nodding to Bosie. “Come with me, I have a plan.” Something in her voice told the hare that he could trust to Zaran’s judgement. The black otter turned to Garul, who was standing by her side. “You must stay here, keep that fire alight. Bosie, come now, bring your fine sword.”

They set off uphill at a smart trot. Zaran glanced back and saw Spingo following them. Not only that, but the mole, Frubb, was also trailing Spingo. The black otter halted. “Go back, friends.”

The Gonfelin maid had a resolute gleam in her eye. “I want t’see wot yore up to. Don’t worry, I promise I’ll stay out o’ yore way, an’ I won’t get trapped under any big rocks. I’ll behave meself.”

Bosie pointed at Frubb. “What about you, mah braw beastie?”

Frubb’s homely face creased with smiles. “Ho, doan’t ee fret abowt Oi, zurr, may’ap you’m guddbeasts might need ee mole along with ee!”

Zaran nodded. “Come then, but do as I say.”

Reaching the spot where the hillside had collapsed, they stood at the edge of the hole. Yellow vapours were still pouring out, as Zaran peered into the depression. Bosie stirred the rim with his swordpoint. He watched the sandy soil silting downward, into the cavern below.

“See, yon big slab hasnae fallen, ’tis still hangin’ there. Though Ah dinnae know what’s holdin’ it up. So, marm, what’s the plan?”

Zaran explained, “I am closer than ever before to doing what I set out to do. Korvus Skurr is slain, now I must destroy his lair.”

Bosie took another look at the hole. “Aye, but even if yon auld stone drops, it won’t destroy the place. Ye told me tae bring mah sword, why was that?”

Zaran nodded toward the big sycamore above the collapsing area. The molecrew’s rope was still attached to its trunk. “All this ground is not safe anymore. If that great tree were to fall….”