Mara looked at Pikkle in astonishment. Together they echoed one word: “Sapwood!”

*   *   *

The Sergeant was hauled aboard. He hugged Mara and Pikkle, staring over their shoulders at the huge white badger in the other logboat to his left. Pikkle ducked and bobbed, throwing a light friendly blow at Sapwood with his remaining skill and energy. The boxing hare dodged it and rapped him smartly on both ears with a left-right combination as he spoke to Mara.

“Who’s the big white badger over there? Strewth, ’e must be as big as ’Is Nibs Urthstripe.”

Mara rummaged in a sack of provisions. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. It’s too long a story for tonight—we’ll need rest if we’re going into battle tomorrow. Here, take this food. I’ll bet you’re hungry, eh, Sergeant.”

“Huh, ’ungry ain’t the word, missie. Hi could make a stew o’ me own ears an’ enjoy it!”

“I say, Sarge, no need for that sort of thing, wot.” Pikkle pulled a face and shuddered. “Tuck in and have a good supper, have a nap and wake up bright ’n’ breezy tomorrow, eh!”

However, it was some time before Sapwood was allowed to sleep. The shrewd old badger Loambudd questioned him closely about what was going on at Salamandastron. Later she held a conference across the boat sides with Mara, Urthwyte, Log-a-log and Alfoh.

“From what I gathered off Sapwood, I think that my grandson’s mountain is in a perilous position. Our help is sorely needed there. When do you think we’ll make land, Log-a-log?”

The shrew leader watched the moonlit wake of his small fleet. “We’re running with the current and the wind is behind us. If the weather holds out, we’ll probably hit the beach by dawn—though if I put on extra paddlers we could be there in the hour before daylight.”

Loambudd did not hesitate. “Then do it right away, my friend. There’s not a moment to lose. Now, let’s hold a war council and make plans . . .”

Only the rolling night waves were witness to the five logboats cutting speedily through the sea toward Salamandastron. Grim-faced shrews dug their paddles deep, keeping the boats abreast of each other as the leaders conferred urgently.

*   *   *

Salamandastron had been breached—the horde of Ferahgo was within the mountain!

Bart Thistledown and his little band had fought a gallant action. Firing into the oncoming masses until their arrows ran out and thwacking away at vermin bodies, they defended the open fissure heroically until Oxeye sent Seawood and ten others to pull them out. Javelins clashed and slings whirled as they fought a fierce retreating action, having to desert the opening and back off into the maze of tunnels that honeycombed the mountain.