“Come to Spriggat, me crunchy liddle beauties. There’s plenty o’ room for you all in me good ol’ tummy!”

From beneath the clear waters of the small sunlit pool Samkim and Arula watched the hedgehog gorging himself on wasps until the buzzing horde thinned out and flew off back to their damaged nest. When the wasps had gone, Spriggat hauled the young ones dripping from the pool. They looked a sorry sight, soaked and covered in lumps.

“Well, curl me spikes, lookit yew tew. I wouldn’t give a moldy acorn for the pair of ye. See this bank mud? Well, if you plaster it all over y’selves it’ll stop the stingin’.”

Rolling over in the sticky black mud, they coated themselves with it. Strangely enough, it relieved the stings immediately. Looking like two mud dollies, they introduced themselves, telling the hedgehog of their quest.

He nodded knowingly. “I seen that daft stoat earlier, limpin’ an’ hobblin’ along an’ talkin’ to hisself like a worried wart. No mind, ol’ Spriggat’ll put y’back on his trail. Least a body could do for bringin’ me such a good dinner o’ wasps.”

There was a slight buzzing noise from the hedgehog’s stomach. He gave it a sharp pat and it stopped.

“’Scuse me. Now if yew tew will take a tip from Spriggat you’ll set there awhile an’ let that mud dry hard, then it’ll peel off an’ take all the stings with it.”

Samkim and Arula sat in an open patch of sunlight. As the mud dried they watched the strange hedgehog taking wasps one by one from his catching net and scrunching them down as if he were at a banquet.

*   *   *

A blow from a spearbutt laid Dingeye flat. Half-stunned, he looked up. Dethbrush the fox and his six tracker rats held him pinned to the ground with the points of their spears. The fox kicked the sword from his nerveless paws, and Dingeye whimpered with fright. There was neither pity or mercy in the cold eyes of the trackers and their leader.

“Where’s Thura? Tell me and I’ll make your dying easy.” The fox’s tone was harsh and commanding.

“Thura’s dead. ’E died of the sickness. I saw it meself, sir. Oh, you ain’t goin’ ter kill me, are you?”

“Ferahgo has a long paw,” Dethbrush sneered as he kicked the quivering stoat. “You thought you’d escaped us didn’t you. Poor fool!”

Dingeye moaned as a spearpoint prodded his injured paw. “I was goin’ back to Ferahgo, sir. On me oath I was. See that sword? I was bringin’ it to him as a gift. On me ’onour!”