Thrugg narrowed his eyes severely and squatted in front of Dumble. “Never mind the serpink, matey. What in the name of jib booms are you doin’ followin’ me?”

“Wanna come wiv you to norf mountings, Mista Thugg.”

“Do you now! Well, you lissen ter me, young dormouse. It’s back to yer bunk in Redwall Abbey for you. Now come on!”

Dumble burst into floods of tears. “No no, don’t wanna go! Dumble get sick an’ die wiv feeva. Me fright’ned.”

Thrugg shouldered his haversack and stood undecided with the tearful Dumble gazing beseechingly up at him.

“You my matey, Mista Thugg. You not let Dumble get sicked inna Habbey. We find niceflowers together. Yeh?”

Thrugg picked up the infant in one paw and set him atop the haversack. “All right, you liddle rogue. I couldn’t think of ye lyin’ sick back there. I’m as feared of the fever as you are. Shove your paw through the straps up there an’ get some sleep, then we’ll find these Iceflowers t’gether.”

Off they went up the path, the big otter having his patience sorely tried by the infant dormouse.

“Good ol’ Mista Thugg. You’re my bes’ matey, aren’t you?”

“Oh aye. Now you git t’ sleep an’ stop gabbin’.”

“I go t’sleep now. G’night, Mista Thugg.”

“Good night!”

“See you inna mornin’.”

“Aye, now be quiet!”

“I quiet now. Dumble quiet.”

“Well, I should ’ope you are!”

“Oh I are.”

“Be quiet, d’you ’ear me. Be quiet!”

“Dumble quiet. You de one makin’ alla noise, Mista Thugg.”

*   *   *

Since dawn King Glagweb had been peering over the edge of the pit, watching Mara intently. The toad guards heaved a massive load of tubers and roots down to the captives. There was even some fruit among it—a few apples, some half-ripe hazelnuts and late strawberries. Nordo and his shrews gathered it into the little wallcaves, keeping the hazelnuts to one side as sling material.

As Pikkle helped to gather up the food he called to Mara, “You’ve got a royal admirer there, old gel, wot? I think he fancies you on toast with an apple in your jolly mouth.”

Mara shook a paw at the King of toads. “Go away, you fat sloppy swamp-walloper!”

“Kroikl! Silence stripedog, Glagweb is King, Krrk!” Glagweb flung a hazelnut savagely at her. “Not fat or sloppy. I punish you when the time comes. Grrk!”

Mara flung the nut back, scoring a direct hit on Glagweb’s nose. “Why not come down here and punish me now if you dare, fathead. Or should I say your royal splodginess!”

Glagweb waddled about the edge of the pit, quivering with rage, his eyes bulging and his throat pulsing wildly.

“Grrroak! I will eat your heart!”