Without warning a rock whistled out of the night and struck Burble a thudding blow between his shoulders. Dann and Song acted swiftly, dragging the watervole into the shadows, while Dippler scattered the fire into the stream with the flat of his paddle blade. A mocking voice called out of the woodland to them. “Yah, y’ain’t got yer big ’edge’og wid yer now. We’re comin’ t’get yez, me liddle buckoes!”

They recognized the voice immediately. It was the stoat whom Soll had chased off, and they had no doubt that his two weasel allies were still with him. He called out again. “No use tryin’ to ’ide from us, young ’uns, we’ll get yer. Stand where y’are an’ drop yer weapons. If ye do we’ll make it quick. But move a muscle an’ yore dyin’ll be long’n’slow!”

Dann blinked his eyes hard, rubbing a paw into them to dispel the effects of the firelight. Song was already on the move. She launched the Swallow back into the stream, and then she and Dippler helped Burble into the boat. He appeared to be in considerable pain. Song pushed the craft clear of the bank.

“Burb, are you all right?”

“Yiss yiss, I’m fine, missie. Cummon, we’d best git goin’!”

But the pretty squirrelmaid had other ideas. “Listen to me, Burb. Grab that branch hangin’ down yonder. Hold the Swallow offshore an’ wait for us. But if anybeast tries to get you or the boat, let go of the branch and drift off. We’ll catch up with you downstream, all being well.”

Song and Dippler crawled back to where Dann hid in the shadows. The stoat was still calling. “Naughty naughty now, ye’ve moved. We’ll ’ave ter punish yer fer that, me liddle friends!”

Song grasped her Leafwood stick, Dippler and Dann drew their blades.

“No use runnin’ from them, they’ll only follow us. Let’s do a bit of punishin’ of our own, mates. Remember what Soll said, they’re only bullies and cowards. Split up and go three ways!”

Song crawled off into the trees, toward where the stoat’s last call had come from. She heard the whirl of a sling close by and the whoosh of a rock hurtling off toward their former position. A voice then, whispering low; it sounded like one of the weasels.

“’Tis ’ard to see in this dark. Mebbe they’ve got away?”

“Nah, they’ll still be there,” the stoat replied, low but confident, “terrified out their wits, you wait’n’see. You take the left, you take the right, an’ circle in on ’em. I’ll go straight in. We’ll ’ave ’em on three sides wid the stream at their backs, and then fer a bit o’ sport, eh, cullies?”