Tess spoke into his ear from behind, the sudden sound causing Mattimeo to jump slightly.

“Why are there no birds singing?” she asked.

The young mouse was mystified. “You’re right, Tess. I couldn’t say what made me uneasy about this place at first, but you’ve put your paw slap on it! There’s no sound, no noise of grasshoppers, birds, the things you’d normally expect to hear on a bright summer’s day. Even Slagar doesn’t look too happy with this place.”

Tess clinked her chain manacles gently. The sound hung on the still air.

“It is beautiful though. I’d like to stop and sit here awhile. Do you know, it reminds me somehow of our Abbey. Look, there are ripe berry bushes over there, and daisies and roses too.”

Sam, who was in the front, stared ahead into the distance. “I can see two tall rocks shaped like a badger’s head and a big bell.”

“Silence back there, or you won’t live to see nightfall. Pick those paws up and march faster!”

Vitch obeyed unconsciously, speeding up until he overtook his leader.

Slagar cuffed him bad-temperedly. “Where d’you think you’re running to? Get back and watch those prisoners, and keep from under my paws, rat.”

*   *   *

Orlando looked doubtfully at the contraption Jess had set up. High over his head the thick bridge rope was fastened to his axe top. The rope ran out across the abyss, taking a steep downward slope until it reached the stakes on the far side, where Sir Harry had secured it close to ground level. The big badger scratched his muzzle.

“How’s it supposed to work, Jess?” he asked dubiously.

“Quite simply. Matthias, would you go first and show him?”

The warrior mouse shinnied swiftly up the stakes. Removing his belt, he swung it over the rope with one paw, catching the other end as it came down. He stood with his paws twined in the belt that hung either side of the bridge rope.

“Ready, Jess,” he called.

The squirrel climbed up and gave him a good push.

Whizzing across the gorge from the rope lashed around the axehead, Matthias sped on a straight downward course, lifting his tail clear as he hit the other side in a cloud of dust. He jumped to his paws, waving triumphantly. Log-a-Log and his shrews cheered aloud.

Jess turned to Orlando with a smile. “That’s how!”

“I’m not sure, Jess. I might be too big and heavy.”

“Then you can go next to last,” the squirrel said decisively.

“Who’s going last?”

“Me, of course. You want your axe back, don’t you? Right then. I’ll untie the rope, lash your axe to my back and swing across. Don’t worry, I’m a good treeflyer. I’ll go straight down into the gorge on the end of the rope, stop myself against the opposite wall and climb up.”