' 'I say, Goody, you must give me the recipe for your plum pudding."

"Ask your gran-she gave it to me."

"Now, which will I have, October ale, cider or b.u.t.termilk?"

"None. You're fat enough, Ben Stickle."

A pleasant time was pa.s.sing eating the celebratory supper.

When the dishes were cleared away, Abbess Germaine stood up.

"Pray silence for our host," she called.

Bella took the floor. "Where are Ferdy, Coggs, Spike and Posy?"

Ben pointed in the direction of the dormitory. "Well abed and snorin' like champions, marm."

Bella bowed her head. "Then let us give a moment of silence and thought to the memory of a very brave otter, the Mask, without whom none of tonight's joy would have been possible."

A respectful silence followed, broken only by an audible sniff from Skipper.

Bella took a sip of b.u.t.termilk, then she wiped her eyes on the back of a heavy paw.

"Now to business. First let me say it has been a good day 230.

in many ways, mainly because Ferdy and Coggs are back safe with us. Also because we have a new friend in our midst--Gingivere. I am sure you will all join me in saying that our home is his for as long as he chooses to stay here."

"Thank you, Bella, and you too, my friends. But this cannot be," he said sadly. "Tsarmina is a very dangerous creature; my presence here would only endanger you all. I would never forgive myself if any of you suffered because of me. Tonight I will stay with you, but tomorrow I will leave at first light to go eastward through Mossflower, far away from Kotir and all it stands for. I could not stay here, knowing that I would be adding to your problems. If Tsarmina knew that I was here with you, she would go mad for revenge on us all, and who knows what evils her dark mind could think up. Somewhere beyond Mossflower I will make a fresh start. Thank you for all your help and kindness. All my life, wherever I am, I will carry the memory of my woodland friends deep in my heart. If the time should arrive when I can return the good treatment you have shown me, then rest a.s.sured, you will not even have to ask. I will help in any way possible, for I owe the woodlanders of Mossflower a deep debt of grat.i.tude."

The wildcat sat down amid silence, which suddenly gave way to loud applause for his n.o.ble words.

Ben Stickle shook him firmly by the paw.

"Mr. Gingivere, sir, it'll break Ferdy an' Coggs' liddle 'earts to know you've gone away. But one day I'll tell 'em when they're old enough to understand. Thankee for looking after my liddle 'ogs, sir."

Bella banged upon the table.

"As you are aware," she continued, "our friends from Loamhedge and the Foremole's crew risked life and limb to find out about Kotir. Old Dinny, I believe you have something to tell us?''

The ancient mole tugged his snout to Bella, then spread a barkcloth scroll across the table.

"Hurr, now this yurr's Koateer, see. We'm been a commen an' goen all the wrong ways. See yurr, this'n's a map of b'low cells. They's a gurt cave an* lake under Koateer, also a tunnel wot'll lead 'ee out into an 'ollow stump in woods."

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There were murmurs of wonderment from the onlookers. Old Dinny rapped a digging claw on the tabletop.

"Foremole an' oi bin a-plannen.'Ee'll tell about it; oi baint one furr speechen."

Foremole threw up his paws and announced in a clear no-nonsense tone, "Fludd 'er out. Charmania woant stay in no floaten 'ouse."

Hubbub broke out. Columbine rushed to Foremole's side, waving the scroll aloft.

"Please, listen to what I have to say," she shouted over the noise.

Abbess Germaine looked proudly at her ward as she began to speak.

"I was with Foremole and Old Dinny when we made the plan. Let me explain. First, it relies on the fact that Kotir lies in a land depression. Mossflower Woods itself is actually on much higher ground. The moles have studied the landfall."

Columbine laid the scroll out, pointing at two areas of the table as if referring to a larger map.

"Over here and over here, the River Moss runs on a northeast course through the woods, then takes a sharp bend to the west. Sometime in the past there must have been a large lake where Kotir now stands, but this dried up when the river changed its course. We have since found the remains of that lake in the cave beneath Kotir."

Lady Amber did not see the point. "But how does that help us, Columbine?"

"Let the maid tell it," Skipper whispered in her ear. "I think I've guessed the plan, though."

"If the moles were to dig from where the river is closest to Kotir," Columbine continued, "they could make flood tunnels from the banks of the River Moss down to the lowland and straight into the cave beneath Kotir.''

Realization dawned upon Lady Amber. ' "Then the old lake bed would fill up again!"

Excited shouts rang out.

"They'd be flooded!"

"Kotir would sink beneath the lake!"

"Good riddance too, I say!"

Skipper bounded up onto the table. "If we can make 232.

sluicegates, me and my crew will sink them on the riverbank to hold the water back until the tunnels are complete,"

Lady Amber leaped up beside him. "Leave it to the squirrels, Skip. We'll build your floodgates. You just see to it that they're sunk properly into the banks."

Foremole was not the greatest of leapers, but he clambered up on the table besides Amber and Skipper.

"Ho urr, an' us moles'll dig 'oles. We'll tunnel for 'ee, boi 'okey, us will!"

Columbine thought the cheering and paw-thumping would never stop. All around her, woodlanders were dancing, hugging each other and whooping at the top of their lungs.

Bella had to pound the table for a long time until order was restored.

"Congratulations, Corim. I think it is a good plan," she announced. "Best of all, it will save open warfare and loss of life. Now, does every creature present agree to the plan?"

There was a ma.s.s shout of approval. Every paw in the room shot up.

"Aye!" "Then we shall carry out this plan. We must, for I fear that Martin and his friends are long overdue on their return. Having said that, I do not wish any of you to feel downhearted, for who can calculate the journey to and from Salamandastron? We must hope and keep the faith in our friends' promise to carry out their mission. Maybe one day not too far from now I will see my father, Boar the Fighter, come striding through Mossflower Woods-along with Martin, Young Dinny, and Gonff-to lead us to victory. Wherever the questers and my father are this day, let us wish them good fortune."

A rousing cheer rang through Brockhall as Bella sat down and crossed paws with the Corim leaders.

Abbess Germaine had the final word at this meeting.

"Yes, friends, good fortune to those who traverse afar and good fortune to us all. I think the plan is a good one," the frail old mouse told the a.s.sembly. "Even I and my brothers and Loamhedge, unused to fighting and war, can see that this will avoid unnecessary bloodshed on both sides, for friend and foe alike. A death is always a death. Bloodshed is an awful thing. What we are striving for is peace-keep this thought uppermost in your minds. If I had a wish, it would 233.

be that we lived in harmony with those at Kotir. But this cannot be. So let me say again, good fortune to the lovers of peace and right. Let liberty and freedom be the legacy that we leave to those who follow us in the seasons to come. May they find true peace in Mossflower."

There was a reverent silence for what was, indeed, a heartfelt prayer.

The four travelers were hungry.

They had risen before dawn and were on their way through the low sand dunes where little else grew but tough sand gra.s.s. Belts were tightened after the previous night's meager supper'of a few roots which Dinny had managed to forage. The mole tried digging in the sand for edible material. He rubbed grit from his eyes with weary paws.

"Gurr, baint no gudd diggen in this sloidy sarnd. Moight as well try diggen 'oles in a river.''

Gonff wiped a dry paw across his mouth. "I'm thirsty more than anything, mateys. What I wouldn't give for a good old beaker of cold cider right now."

Martin trekked on doggedly. "Look, it's no good going on about what we haven't got. We'll just have to keep our eyes peeled until food comes along. Here, let me show you an old warrior trick my father taught me." He rummaged some smooth pebbles from his sling pouch. "Try sucking one of these. I know it isn't as good as a drink, but a pebble will keep your mouth moist and stop you drying up."

Being woodlanders, they were not used to traveling through soft sand. Even Log-a-Log, who had made such a journey before, found the constant sinking of paws into dry shifting grit very tiring. All four soon sat exhausted on top of a dune. Martin picked up some sand. Letting it run through his paws, he scanned the distance to where the ma.s.s of rock stood, but there was no light issuing from it in daytime.

Gonff spoke his thoughts aloud. "There stands Salaman-dastron, mateys. And here we sit, as far away from it as ever. Not a crust nor a drink between us, and sand all around. It's certainly hard going."

Log-a-Log stood up, brushing his fur free of sand.

"Wait here. IVe traveled in sand before, I may be able to help."

234.

He scrambled off among the dunes.

Dinny scooped a small hole. He watched it fill up again. "Moi oP granfer Dinny'd never b'lieve thiz, stan* on moi tunnel."

Martin stretched out upon the dune. "Well, at least we've come this far. Don't worry, mates. We'll make it somehow."

Log-a-Log returned carrying four thick pieces of wood-branches he had found at the edge of the dunes.

"Here, trim these up," he told diem. "They'll make good walking staves to help us through the sand."

They set about tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the branches with teeth, claws and knives.

Then they set off again. With the staves, the going was slightly better. Every once in a while they spotted a small toad or a frilled newt from a distance, but the creatures would either ignore them or scuttle off among the sandhills. There was also the odd small bird, which had to be shooed off with staves when it became too inquisitive.

Log-a-Log found some soft gra.s.s with a milky sap, and they chewed it as he conjectured what lay ahead.

"Pretty soon we'll be out of these dunes and onto the firm sand. Maybe then I'll find something to eat. No water, though. Trouble is that most things on the sh.o.r.e taste salty, and that makes you want water even more. Oh, test the sand with your staves as we go. Here and mere you may find sinking sands. Watch out for those big seabirds too-gulls and such. They'll gobble up anything at all. Show them you're not afraid; whack out at them with your staves, then they'll leave you alone. Now, if you see any pools of water, don't drink from them-it's all seawater, full of salt, tastes very nasty. One last thing, stick together and don't wander off."

"That all, nothing else?" Gonff laughed and waved his staff. "Good, then what are we lagging for?"

To their amazement, the mousethief skipped off singing, I mustn't drink the water, And there may be nought to eat.

Those gulls may see a mousethief As just a tasty treat.

I step out bravely on the quest, Across this funny land, 235.

And when I disappear they'll say, "He's found the sinking sand."

"Nothing keeps our Gonff down for long," Martin laughed. "Come on, let's press on,"

They came out of the dunes at midafternoon. Before them stretched the sh.o.r.e: flat solid sand, dotted with small rocky outcrops. The sun glinted like gold leaf on the shimmering sea.

Log-a-Log ignored it and walked on. His three companions, however, could not help stopping momentarily to stare in awe at the distant reaches of mighty water. It staggered the imagination of woodlanders who had never witnessed such a spectacle.

Dinny could scarce credit his first sight of the sea.

"Hurr, oi sees it, but oi doant berleeve it. Whurr do it all come from, Gloglog?"

"They say it's always been there," the shrew shrugged. "Like the sky and the ground. See this sand here with ridges on it like little waves? Well, that's where the tidewater comes up to. You'll probably see it flooding in soon. Keep your paws on the smooth sand, here, this side of all these sh.e.l.ls and suchlike. That's called a tideline."

Dinny was fascinated with the sh.e.l.ls. He picked lots of them up; when he could carry no more he would throw them away and start his collection afresh.

Without warning, a black-headed gull swooped down at them. All four fell flat upon the sand. Log-a-Log lashed out with his staff, catching it on the beak, and as it soared away, Martin hit it hard on the wing with a sling stone.

The gull wheeled, screaming angrily, then more seagulls flew in to investigate. Soon the four friends were hard-pressed defending themselves against aerial invaders.

Waving his staff at an oystercatcher, Martin called to Log-a-Log, "I thought you said they'd go away if we showed 'em we weren't afraid of seabirds?"

Log-a-Log thwacked a common gull across its webbed claws.

"You can never tell with these birds. Quick, let's make a run for it. There's some rocks over yonder!"

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Waving their staves furiously, they dashed along the beach to where a rocky outcrop thrust up from the sand. Finding a fissure between the rocks, they huddled in together.

The gulls wheeled and circled awhile, screeching threateningly, diving toward the rocks, but sheering off at the last moment. Finally they gave up and flew off in search of other, easier prey.

Martin poked his head out into the open. "All clear, they've gone now," he reported.

Log-a-Log climbed swiftly to the top of the rocks. "Look, mates-a rock pool. Get the fishing tackle out,"

Locked tightly in by the rocks there was a beautiful miniature lake of deep seawater, crystal clear. They sat on the edge, gazing into the colorful depths.

"Look, there's shrimp, just like Skipper and the crew get from the River Moss," Gonff exclaimed. "What's that, Log-a-Log?"

"Where? Oh, that. I think it's called a starfish. Not very good to eat, though. See here, attached to the rock? These are limpets. They're a bit chewy to eat, but they'll keep us going."

Dinny shook his head. "Nay, Gloglog, them's sh.e.l.ls loik *ee picken up out of sarnd."