The Rogue Crew

There had been no further sightings of Jum Gurdy. The fox nudged a young stoat, who was armed with a long sling. “Worrabout yew, Jonder? Catch anythin’?”

The stoat made a throwing gesture with his sling. “Aye, Snaggs, I kil’t a big seagill wid one stone. Caught ’im swoopin’ down an’ slung me best pebble—smacko! Gorrim right in the eye. I left it outside.”

Snaggs waved the staff at Uggo and Posy. “Yew two, gerrout there an’ git the seagill in the pot. Pluck all its fedders off first, though. Jonder, Vilty, go an’ keep an eye on ’em. Make sure they don’t get itchy paws an’ try ta run.”

Yirji, the rat Uggo had butted, pulled out his knife. “I’ll go, Chief. If’n dat ’edgepig tries ta run, I’ll cut ’is paws off!”

Snaggs tripped Yirji as he rose, pinning him down with the staff. “Yew’ll stay where ye are. If’n there’s any paw cuttin’ round ’ere, I’m the one wot’ll be doin it. Startin’ wid yew!”

Vilty was a young ratmaid. She untied Uggo’s paws, roping him by his neck to the line around Posy. Having been marched outside, they were confronted by the body of a black-headed gull lying by the fire next to the cauldron.

Jonder lifted its limp head. “See? Right in the eye—blatt!”

Vilty saw the look of sadness on Posy’s face. She matched it with a similar expression, mockingly. “Ah, dearie me, a pore dead bird, ain’t dat a shame!” She flicked a knotted piece of rope at the hogmaid, her tone hardening. “Move yaself, snoutpig. Get dem feathers pulled off it!”

The distasteful task was difficult. Starting on a wing, they both found the feathers hard to pull out.

Jonder stood twirling his sling, watching them impatiently. “Didn’t ya never pluck fedders off a bird afore? The way youse are shapin’, it’ll be winter season by the time yer finished. Gerrout the way!”

He kicked them both away from the dead gull.

“Vilty, move dat cauldron off the fire. This is the best way ta git the job done!”

Grunting and shoving, Jonder managed to get the gull halfway into the flames. He dusted off his paws. “Dat’s der best way to git fedders off’n a bird!”

After a short while, the acrid stench of burning plumage filled the air. A breeze coming in from the sea blew the fumes into the tunnel. Hawking and coughing, Snaggs came staggering out, followed by the others. He yelled angrily at the hedgehogs. “Wot’n blazin’ are ya doin’? We’re gettin’ choked in there by that stink!”

He raised the staff to hit Uggo, but Posy placed herself between them, shouting, “It wasn’t us—it was Jonder, he did it!”

A heated argument broke out between Snaggs and Jonder. The other vermin began taking sides and were soon involved. Blows were struck as they yelled at one another.

For a moment, Uggo and Posy were forgotten. They found themselves backed up by the side of a dune.

Uggo murmured to his friend, “Wish I had a blade. If’n there was somethin’ to cut this rope with, we could make a run for it!”

“Don’t try anythin’, young Wiltud. If ye run they’ll catch ye. Stay where ye are for now.”

Posy stared at Uggo. “What was that you said?”

Uggo was mystified. “I never said anythin’.”

The voice, which seemed to come from the grassy dunetop, continued. “I said, don’t try to run. Try to get t’the sea tomorrow. Look out for a log!”

Yirji, who had been hopping about on the edge of the fray, came running toward them, waving his rusty knife.

“Worra yew two yappin’ about? Tryin’ ter escape, eh? I been waitin’ fer sumthin’ like this!”

Before he ever got to them with the knife, Snaggs felled him with a hard blow from his staff. The fox stood over Yirji, breathing heavily. “I warned ya t’stay away from my pris’ners!”

The affray had ceased. Now everybeast was watching Snaggs. Sensing he was back in command, the fox bawled out orders. “Git that bird offa the fire afore we’re all suffercated! No more fightin’, or I’ll give yez wot I gave ’im.” He tapped Yirji with the staff but saw that he had knocked him out cold with the first blow.

“Jonder, Wigga, carry this idjit back inter the den. Vilty, Blawd, cover that bird wid sand—it’ll keep the smell down! The rest of ya, back inside. Cummon, yew two.” He gave the rope a sharp tug, muttering as he hauled the captives along. “Blood’n’guts, dat’s brekkist tomorrer spoiled. I couldn’t eat gull after sniffin’ those fedders!”

The idea came to Uggo in a flash. “I’ll get fish for ye, Chief—me’n’Posy, early in the mornin’. Round about dawn’s the best time for fish.”

Snaggs eyed Uggo suspiciously. “Wot do ya wanna gerrup earlier an’ go fishin’ for, eh?”

Uggo smiled hopefully. “’Cos if me’n’Posy catches enough fish, there might be some for us, too.”

Posy nodded enthusiastically. “Aye, sir. I’ll spit the fish on fresh reeds an’ roast them nice for ye!”

The fox smiled. “Aye, I likes roasted fish fer me brekkist. Wot’ll ye need?”

Uggo scratched his headspikes. “Er, two rods, some line, few stones for weights an’ a few hooks.”