The foxes exchanged knowing smiles. One stepped forward. “Top o’ the summer to ye, yer ’onner. What’s in the ’avvysack?”

Thrugg grinned cheerfully at the raggedy fox. “Four unconscious foxes with their tails chopped off who tried stealin’ our vittles. Why do you ask?”

“Hee hee, we’ve got a funny un ’ere mates!” one of the foxes sniggered.

Another fox drew his sword, testing the edge with his paw.

“Yeh, wonder if ’e’s tough as ’e’s funny?”

Thrugg twirled his sling ominously. “Why don’t you come an’ find out, mudface?”

The first fox saw that the big otter was no easy proposition, so he adopted a whining tone. “Now be reasonable, friend. We’re not lookin’ fer trouble. You wouldn’t begrudge four starvin’ creatures a bite, would yer?”

Thrugg took a step toward him. “Begrudge a starvin’ creature a bite? Not me, matey. You come ’ere an’ I’ll bite you anytime. Now listen, you lot: be off with you. Go an’ scare some crows.”

The fourth fox pulled out his rusty sword and began swinging it. “Yah, we’re four to one. Gerrim, lads!”

Baby Dumble let out a terrified squeak. Suddenly Thrugg realized that he could not fight and look after the infant; escape was the only solution.

“Hold tight, Dumble. ’Ere we go!” Bulling through the foxes, Thrugg bowled them aside as he rushed off the path into the woods. Dodging and ducking, he skirted tree and bush with the outraged cries of his pursuers ringing behind him.

An idea began to form in Thrugg’s head. He put on an extra burst of speed to gain a little time.

The foxes stumbled and bumped into each other as they hurried into the woodlands. They ran a short distance and halted. Thrugg was lost to sight.

“The coward, ’e’s ’idin’ somewheres!”

“Yeh, spread out an’ search. We’ll find ’im.”

“Hee hee, roasted dormouse—ages since I tasted that. Ringworm, you go with Splidge. Me an’ Blitch’ll fan out the other way.”

They had not been searching long when the one called Ringworm spotted their quarry. He gave a low secret whistle to the others. When they came he cautioned silence, pointing forward as he whispered, “Ssshh! There they are, mates—’idin’ be’ind that there bush. See the liddle brat settin’ on top of the ’avvysack?”

Sure enough, the haversack and the back of Baby Dumble were visible above the spread of a thick clump of willowherb.

“Now let’s do this quiet like. Sneak up an’ jump ’em!”

“Yeh, good idea. Clubs ’n’ swords ready. Let’s go!”

Within feet of the vegetation they threw caution to the winds and leapt at the clump of willowherb, stabbing and striking.

Whack! Bonk! Thwack! Thud!

Four foxes lay senseless on the ground, half in and half out of the clump of rosebay willowherb.