Klitch chuckled nastily. “Oh we hear you all right, you great windbag. But soon you’ll hear from your friends Oxeye and Sapwood. When the sun dries them out and all they have to drink is seawater, then you’ll hear them calling for mercy, screaming for a quick death. What’ll you do then, eh?”

*   *   *

Oxeye shut his eyes against the midmorning sun. Licking parched lips, he looked across at Sapwood. “Are they still parleyin’ up there by the mountain, Sap?”

The Sergeant tried to crane his head, but the rope across his throat pulled tight. He lay back with a sigh. “’S no good, Hi can’t see a thing, Ox, but Hi tell yer, if’n Hi was Urthstripe, Hi’d wipe Klitch an’ Ferahgo out as soon as they was close enough an’ fergit us two.”

Migroo menaced them with his spear. “Shut yer mouths, yew tew!”

Big Oxeye winked at him. “Do me a favor, ol’ chap—go an’ boil your scabby head!”

“One more word an’ I’ll run yer through!” The stoat touched Oxeye’s throat with the spearpoint.

“Slay away, old lad, slay away.” Oxeye closed his eyes again, dismissing Migroo. “But if you harm a single hair of our handsome heads, young Master Klitch’ll let his daddy skin you alive, then he’ll kill you.”

Klitch came striding up and stood over his captives.

Oxeye stared boldly up at him. “Listen, sonny me old weasel, if that chap Migroo kills us, would you be awfully kind and kill him back for us?”

“I wouldn’t be so cheerful if I were you.” Klitch kicked the big hare savagely. “Urthstripe is leaving both of you here to die. We’ve given him until dawn tomorrow to make up his mind, but by then a couple of tides will have washed over you and the gulls will be pecking at your corpses.”

Oxeye raised his head slightly, smiling insolently at Klitch. “Feedin’ the jolly old birds, eh. At least we’ll be doin’ somethin’ useful. What d’you say, Sap?”

“Oh aye, but Hi think I’d sooner feed ’em this ’ere weasel—that’s if they haint too fussy wot they eats.”

Klitch leaned down and struck Sapwood in the face. The boxing Sergeant wrinkled his battered features scornfully. “You ain’t got much of a right, sonny. Try yer left—it might be better. Tell yer wot, why not untie me an’ I’ll give yer a free boxin’ lesson.”

*   *   *

Bart Thistledown and Pennybright watched from the top of the crater. Pennybright was very upset, but Bart comforted her in his laconical style. “Now don’t be gettin’ y’self in a tizzy, young Pen, wot? Oxeye an’ Sap look in good form from here. No doubt Milord Urthstripe’ll lead a party out an’ rescue ’em tonight.”

“Oh, Bart, d’you think he will?” Pennybright gnawed her lip anxiously.