With Gonff walking in front to clear the path for Bella, they made their way through the warm woodland night.

* * *

Bula the otter lay crouched on the foredeck. She watched the dark shapes materialize silently from the trees by the bank.

“Who goes there?” she challenged them.

“Corim of Mossflower.”

“Advance and be recognized.”

“Bula, you old shrimp-chaser!”

“Gonff, you little piebandit. Hello, Miz Bella. What news? Martin, are you hurt? What happened?”

Martin slid from Bella’s back and leaned on his sword. “It’s nothing, Bula. Is everything ready?”

“As ready as it’ll ever be, Martin.”

Bula gave a short bark, and her four companions appeared on deck.

Martin gave a last fond look at Wuddshipp as she rode at anchor on the River Moss, then he nodded to Bula.

“Sink her!”

“Scuttle Wuddshipp, matey? Are you out of your mind?” Gonff blinked in disbelief.

Bella laid a heavy paw gently on the mousethief. “Martin knows what he’s doing, Gonff.”

With a splash the five otters dived into the river and were momentarily lost to sight in the dark water. When they surfaced they were at opposite ends of the craft, three for’ard, two astern. Clamped in their jaws were rope hawsers which ran to the ship. They began swimming strongly, tugging Wuddshipp around so that she drifted until stem and stern faced opposite banks. Now Wuddshipp stood side on across the River Moss.

The otters emerged, dripping. Passing the headropes to Bella, they dived back in and joined their friends on the other bank. “Make those stern ropes fast to that big oak,” Martin called out to them. “Give some slack to allow for sinkage. We’ll make her fast to this beech over here.”

Diving back into the water, the otters boarded the vessel amidships. Bula handed out wooden mallets, and they went below. She pointed out the inlets under the oardecks.

“Knock those spigots and seacocks wide open, crew. Let the water in.”

They went at it with a will. Soon the river was gushing in from eight different points and the bilgewater level rose swiftly. Bula took one last look around, satisfied that the job was done.

“She’s filling fast, crew. All ashore!” she ordered.

Martin stood on the bank with them. They watched Wuddshipp list slightly with the flow, then the black ship began sinking lower in the water. Above the gurgling flow and creaking timbers, Gonff could be heard singing a mournful farewell,

You carried us safe o’er the water,
So proudly you sailed the blue sea,
Now lie on the bed of a river,
To help make old Mossflower free.
But here in our hearts we will keep you, Wuddshipp.
Like a great bird of freedom upon that last trip,
With the wind in my whiskers,
Surrounded by friends.
Sleep deeply, old Wuddshipp,
Your voyaging ends.

The little mousethief sniffed as he wiped a paw across his eyes. “It’s a good thing Log-a-Log isn’t here, matey.”

Stem and stern sank levelly as the vessel went down. With a cascading ripple the waters broke over her midship rail.