“Hello, chaps. I’m Trubbs.”

“I’m Wother. Capital W and an O, dontcha know.”

“I’m Ffring. Double F, no E. Howja do.”

The sling dropped from Martin’s paw. “Er, very well, thank you. How did you get here?”

“Oh, this way and that, old chap.”

“Dodge and weave, y’know.”

“How the dickens do we ever get anywhere?”

Dinny scratched his nose and stared hard at the sand-colored hares. It was hard to distinguish them from their background.

“Drubbs’n’oo, did ’ee say?” he asked sleepily.

“No, no. It’s Trubbs, old sport.”

“Wother, at y’service.”

“Haha, then I’ve got to be Ffring, I suppose.”

Gonff took the initiative. He saw immediately that the strange trio were friendly. He made a deep bow.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m sure. My name is Gonff, Prince of Mousethieves. This is our leader, Martin the Warrior. Here we have Young Dinny, the world’s best digger, with the latest addition to our little band, Log-a-Log, a shrew and an excellent boat builder.”

Paws were shaken warmly, then the three hares were invited to sit by the fire with the travelers. It amused Martin and his friends how the hares spoke in turn.

“Well, well. This is comfy. Tell us all about yourselves.”

“Rather! What neck of the old county are you bods from?”

“Live far from here, do you?”

Martin explained the nature of their quest. At the mention of Bella’s father, Boar the Fighter, a twinkle passed between the eyes of the hares. The warrior continued the tale up until the time they had found the rat on the shore.

“Well, that’s our story,” he concluded. “Now, what’s yours? How do you three come to be out here in the middle of nowhere next to a fire mountain?”

“Actually, that’d be telling.”

“Er, haha. I second that, old bean.”

“Oh yes, quite.”

Getting a straight answer from either Trubbs, Wother, or Ffring was difficult, to say the least. Gonff tried the casual approach.

“Well, you can either stay here with us, mateys, or be off about your business. We’ve got to get a proper night’s sleep so that we can climb that mountain tomorrow.”

The three hares shuffled about a bit, then their tone became more businesslike.

“Ah, the mountain . . . Actually, we’ve been sent down here to you.”

“To lead you to the mountain, y’see.”

“Would you mind awfully coming along with us?”

Log-a-Log clapped his paws in delight. “Haha, now you’re talking.”

The hares wiggled their long ears appreciatively.

“Yes, I suppose we are talking, really.”

“Never alone, though. Always together, you’ll notice.”

“Silly, really, I suppose. Do hope you’ll forgive us, what?”

“Mateys,” Gonff chuckled, “we’ll forgive you anything if you can take us up that mountain.”

“Hmm, it’s not actually up, don’t you see.”

“No, it’s sort of under, doncha know.”

“But we are glad you’re coming with us, chaps.”

Dinny scratched his head. “Ho arr, us’ns be a-commen with ’ee awright. But who’m sent ’ee for uz?”

“You’ll soon see.”