The Rogue Crew

Swiffo and the others watched Greenshroud from where they crouched in the dunetop reeds.

Frudd scratched his bushy head. “Wot are they up to? Maybe they’re goin’ back to sea, eh?”

Rekaby, who had been eyeing the vessel keenly, shook his head. “I don’t think so. Look, she’s caught the breeze on the turn to get up a fair lick along the hard sand.”

Swiffo gasped. “Lookit the speed it’s goin’ now, good gosh!”

With a stiff breeze bellying out all sails, Greenshroud really whipped along below the tideline. Suddenly the big craft changed course, thundering at an angle toward the lowest dune. Excited shouts could be heard from the vermin as their ship hit the reeded slope. Oarpoles shot out, port and starboard, digging into the sand to keep up the momentum. The wheels scarce had time to settle on the duneside. It was an amazing sight.

Gaining the dunetop, Greenshroud careered off across the hilly summits, skilfully steered by corsairs heaving and slacking the rigging and ratlines under Razzid Wearat’s command.

Rekaby kept his head low, muttering to his companions, “I think ’tis time we weren’t here!” The small party made a hasty retreat, though as they surmounted the next dune, a hoarse cry rang out from Greenshroud’s lookout at the mainmast peak.

“Ahoy, Cap’n, there they go, the two ’ogs an’ four otherbeasts. Straight ahead, an’ a point starboard. See ’em, Cap’n? Atop o’ that dune, crouchin’ down!”

Old Rekaby shook his head woefully. “D’ye hear that, the bottlenosed curs have spotted us. I wonder how they managed that.”

Young Swiffo knew. “It’s that ole tail o’your’n. Sticks up like a curly silver flag. We’d best make ourselves scarce!”

Rekaby sighed. “Aye, but don’t take the trail back to our Fortunate Freepaws, or they’ll be huntin’ us all down.”

Fiddy pointed northeast. “We’ll lead ’em away from our tribe first. Then try to lose the villains somehow.”

Posy looked doubtfully at the suggested route. “But we’ll be leaving the dunes for the heathland. Surely they’ll overtake us easily on the flat.”

Swiffo grinned mischievously. “Hah, but you don’t know this country like we do, miz!”

Greenshroud was rolling along smoothly under Razzid’s command. Driven by the breeze under full sail, the ship glided uphill and down dale without a hitch.

The Wearat yelled up to his lookout, “Where away are they now, Redtail?”

The keen-sighted stoat laughed aloud, pointing. “Haharrharr! The fools are makin’ fer the flatlands, Cap’n. We’ll run ’em down wid no trouble!”

Jiboree grinned wickedly. “We kin keep the liddle ’ogs’til they tell us where Redwall is. But wot d’ye say we does wid the rest, Cap’n?”

Razzid twirled his trident, imitating a spit. “Been a while since we ’ad somethin’ that wasn’t bird or fish. Some roast red meat would cheer us all up, eh!”

Now the fugitives were on the heathland, which apart from some scrub, was level ground. Uggo managed to run up front with Swiffo.

“I hope ye know wot yore doin’, mate.”

The young otter glanced back over his shoulder. “Save yore breath, friend. That wheely boat’ll soon be out o’ the dunes. Lissen, wot can ye hear?”

Uggo listened carefully. “Nothin’ much. Wot d’ye want me to hear, Swiffo?”

Breaking stride, Swiffo caught something in his paw. He showed it to Uggo before it leapt away. “Grasshoppers, big fellers—the sort we calls marsh hoppers. Now look, there’s dragonflies, an’ black darters. Wot does that tell ye?”

The young hedgehog looked blank; he shrugged. “Wot?” Swiffo called to Posy, who was running behind them, “D’you know, Miz Posy?”

“Dragonflies are usually flying near water—streams, riverbanks an’ such. Is there a river round here?”

Rekaby spotted Greenshroud coming down the last duneside. “Looks like we’ll soon have company. How far now to the marsh, Swiffo?”

The otter scout replied, “We’re already on the start of it. Single line, now, an’ follow in my trail.”

Uggo looked nonplussed. “Wot is all this about—” Running to one side of Swiffo, Uggo’s footpaw suddenly sank.

The young otter grabbed him back on track. “Told ya to stay in my trail. I knows the track through this marsh like the back o’ me own paw, so stick close.”

Uggo’s paw had made a hole in the crust of the marsh, which was only a thin cover of soil and dead vegetation. The paw made a sucking noise as he pulled it from the foulsmelling, dark green ooze.

Posy covered her mouth against the fetid odour. “Phwaaah! Stinks like cabbage boiled last summer and bad eggs. Don’t come near me ’til you’ve cleaned it off!”

Grabbing a pawful of moss, Uggo began scrubbing at his footpaw. However, he was brought up sharply by a kick on the bottom from Rekaby.

“No time t’be lackadaisical, young un. We’ve got a shipload o’ vermin on our tails. Now, get ye goin’, an’ keep in line with Swiffo. Ye can get cleaned off later!”