It was still early morning and already Martin was feeling tired. He and his friends had been roused several times that night by the familiar Squidjee cry, gluggadrink. It seemed that every baby pigmy shrew woke at least twice nightly wanting a drink.
Rose hauled her log away from the noisy breakfast table. She was spattered with food and drink.
“Good morning, Martin. You’ll never guess what’s planned for the morning after breakfast is through.”
Martin shook his head. “Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”
Rose told him anyway, stifling a smile as she did. “We’re taking all the Squidjees down to the beach for a paddle in the rock pools. Evidently the whole tribe goes down there every day to check on their fishing nets. If it’s good weather like today, the little fiends are brought along to amuse themselves.”
“Oh how nice. It will be fun!” Martin put on his fixed smile.
Grumm and Pallum had their paws full wiping off sticky baby whiskers. “Cumm yurr, you’m—’orrible liddle toad. Thoi whisker’n be full o’ oatmeal.”
The Squidjees dodged about chanting ceaselessly. “Wannago shoreshore! Wannago shoreshore!”
* * *
Descent to the shore from the high cliffs was not as difficult as it first looked. There was a hidden stairway, cunningly carved into the rock by the pigmy shrews. Martin and his companions had to make the trip several times. Watched by Amballa and her ever vigilant shrews, the four friends had to carry each Squidjee piggyback fashion down to the sand. When all the shrews were attending their nets, the Queen turned to Pallum.
“Squidjees playnow, youwatch plennygood!”
She shook her sword at them in warning before seating herself comfortably where she could keep an eye on everything.
The Queen’s infant son Dinjer was trouble on wheels. The other Squidjees were relatively calm and happy, burying Grumm up to his neck in the sand. Martin, Rose and Pallum were building a sandcastle for some others. Pallum pointed to Grumm.
“That was what I always hated, when they decided to bury me. Grumm seems to be enjoying it.”
The mole pulled loose a digging paw and waved to them. “Burr aye, ’tis noice ’n’ cool on an ’ot morn loik this’n.”
“Stillagrumm, staystill!”
Several Squidjees started draping wet seaweed on the mole’s head.
Martin looked about for Dinjer. Rose spotted him.
“There he is, the little blaggard. Look, climbing!”
Dinjer had strayed from the rest and taken a notion to scale the cliff face. The section he chose was slippery and steep, with sharp crags sticking out above it. Martin’s patience snapped. He leaped up, pointing at the miscreant.
“Get down from there, you stupid little beast, or you’ll fall!”
The Queen heard him. Angrily she threw a rock, catching Martin sharply on his unprotected back.
“Biggamouse biggamouth! Notalk Ballamum son likethat, badtalk. Ballamum killslay biggamouse!”
Martin was about to make some reply when there was a loud screech. “Yeeeaaakkk!”
A great gannet had swooped down and snatched Dinjer from the rocks. The infant pigmy shrew was carried high into the air, held by his tail and the hem of his loose robe in the lethal amber beak of the predator. He wriggled and squealed like a midget piglet. Immediately all activity on the shore ceased as Amballa’s wails rent the air.
“Waaah waaah! Dinjergone himdead likefather, likefather!”
“I remember that when I was younger,” Pallum whispered to Rose. “Dinjer’s father was taken by a big gannet like that one. Poor little mite, he’s as good as dead now.”
Amballa had slid down from her seat on the rocks. She covered her eyes and wept inconsolably. “Nomore Dinjerbabe! Himgone, deadnow!”
Martin grabbed her by the paws, pulling her upright. “Notdead, Ballamum, Dinjer notdead. Biggamouse savehim!”
Seizing the Queen’s sword, which was no more than a dagger in his paw, Martin bowled the nearest two pigmy shrews over and snatched their fishing net. Dashing off along the shore after the gannet, he called back to his friends. “Get more nets and follow me. Hurry!”
* * *
The gannet soared upwards, wheeled, and dropped down on to a high ledge in an isolated part of the cliffs. Dinjer was stunned by the landing. The infant lay limp between the big bird’s well-clawed and webbed feet. There was a large untidy nest on the ledge, with two scrawny half-feathered gannet chicks in it. On seeing their mother they set up a cackle.
As he ran, Martin watched the bird descend and alight on the high ledge. Without pausing, he ran to the cliff face directly below it. Pausing only to grip the swordblade in his teeth, he hurled the fishing net upwards. The meshes caught on the rocks. Giving a quick tug to check its firmness, Martin began climbing, pulling himself up paw over paw on the tough kelp net. When he reached where the net had caught, he disentangled it, whirling it around his head he hurled it aloft, catching another rocky crag. Again he began hauling himself up over the meshes.
* * *
Below on the beach, the whole of the Highbeast pigmy shrew tribe had gathered. They watched as Martin continued his ascent. Rose began spreading the other nets on the sand, lashing four of them together. The pigmy shrews were getting in her way, ignoring her as they trampled the nets and gazed up. Rose, Pallum and Grumm bulled into them, pushing them backwards.
“Get out of the way. Can’t you see we’re trying to help him?”
One of the Highbeasts kicked out at Rose. “Cheekamouse! Notalka me likethat.”
Amballa bit him savagely on the neck and knocked him down. “Gettaway quicknow like mousesay, allayou!”
A piercing cry came from Dinjer as he woke and saw his predicament. “Eeeee! Helpme helpmeeeeee!”
* * *
Martin heard the cry and redoubled his efforts, throwing the net upwards and scrambling over it. He chanced a quick look up—only about three more lengths to go.
Dinjer’s tear-stained face appeared over the rim of the ledge. “Eeeeeee helpadinjer eeeeeee!”
He was dragged back by the formidable beak of the gannet. The huge bird tossed him against the side of the nest. Dinjer curled up tight as the two hungry chicks tried to crane their floppy necks over the edge of the nest to get at him.
* * *
Below on the shore, Amballa hid her face in horror of what might happen to her little son. Rose put a comforting paw around the Queen’s shoulders.
“Nocry, Ballamum. Biggamouse Martin is mighty warrior. He will get your Dinjer back, yousee, yousee!”
Amballa seemed to understand Rose. She clung to the mousemaid as she anxiously watched the high ledge.
* * *
Breathing raggedly with exertion, Martin pulled himself up on to the ledge, hauling the net up after him.
Dinjer saw him and jumped up, yelling. “Biggamouse Martinmouse, savemeeeee!”
The gannet turned its bright dangerous eyes on Martin as he took the sword from his mouth.
“Dinjer, nomake nonoise, bestill, still!”
The gannet took a stalking stride towards Martin, lowering its lethal yellow beak. The young mouse swung with the little sword. It clacked harmlessly off the great bird’s beak, but caused the gannet to stop where it was. Now Martin shook the net out and swished it at the bird’s feet. It took a step back. Behind him he could hear Dinjer sobbing with terror. Working his way across the ledge, jabbing with the sword and sweeping with the net, Martin gradually got himself into a position where he was between the gannet and its nest.
Sensing danger to its chicks, the gannet began spreading its wings, lowering its neck and opening its beak wide as it hissed at the intruder. Martin knew there was not much time, it was getting ready to attack. He would have to act quickly. Throwing back his head, he shouted aloud into the gannet’s face, hoping that he could be heard below on the beach.
“Stretch the nets! Hold them up, lots of you. Be ready!”
* * *
Rose heard him. She had thought of giving her eagle call, but if Martin or Dinjer were in the nest they would be crushed under the gannet, which would naturally sit on its nest to defend the chicks against anything. Grasping a corner of the net, Rose held it high, yelling aloud, “Holdup net. Stretch it tight. Now!”
The Highbeast tribe stood uncertainly for a moment, until a harsh order from Amballa their Queen sent them scurrying to the edges of the net, with Rose, Pallum, Grumm and Amballa at each corner.
The Queen snapped out directions. “Holda netup, upup! Stretcher tightnow!”
The net was ready, up and tightly stretched.
* * *
Martin reached back with his footpaw, keeping a wary eye on the gannet as he kicked Dinjer lightly.
“Movenow, Dinjer. Get over to the edge . . .”
Dinjer began crawling on all fours. The gannet, sensing it was being robbed of its prey, tried to pass Martin to get at Dinjer. Martin jabbed with the sword. This time he nipped the bird in its open mouth. It retaliated with lightning swiftness, pecking him sharply in the side. Martin drew his breath in short at the pain. He clamped his paw over the spot, feeling warm damp blood.
Dinjer was now at the edge of the cliff, peering over at the dizzy drop down to the shore.
“Jump, Dinjer, jump!” Martin hissed at him.
“Eeee nojump nojump, Dinjer ’fraid!”
There was nothing else for it. Martin turned swiftly and gave the baby pigmy shrew a hefty kick on the bottom that sent him flying outwards over the edge.
“Yeeeeeeeeeeehhhkkkk!”
Whump!
Dinjer bounced up and down in the center of the net. Saved!
* * *
The gannet gave a shrill squawk and attacked Martin. Leaping to one side, he whirled the net and threw it straight over the bird’s head. The kelp fishing net enveloped the gannet’s head and one wing, and draped on the ground, trapping one of its webbed feet. Martin fell to one side, dragging at the net. The bird’s head came awkwardly askew and it tried to pull its leg free. Martin kicked out at its other leg, sending the gannet crashing on its side, loosely trapped in the net.
The young mouse leapt up, his chest heaving. The net would not hold the big sea bird for long and he did not wish to kill it. The two chicks were squawking raucously in the nest. Turning to the fallen mother bird, Martin loosed off the net. Then he ran for the edge shouting aloud, “One for the net coming dooooooooown!”
He leaped into the blue summer morning, up and out. Momentarily he was robbed of breath as the wind whistled past his ears. Spread-eagled, with all limbs flailing, he dropped like a stone, plummeting down into the net.
Whumff!
A mighty cheer rose up from everybeast on the shore.
Rose, Pallum and Grumm hurried to help Martin from the net. The mousemaid tore a strip from her smock.
“You’re hurt. Let me see. Oh, thank goodness, it’s not serious!”
Martin let her bandage his side. Amballa came over, smiling through her tears. Martin offered her sword back but she refused.
“Martinmouse warriormouse, greatbrave, savemy Dinjerbabe. Ballamum saythis. Warrawant? Anything foryou!”
Pallum nudged Martin as he whispered, “She’s just offered you anything you want for saving Dinjer. I’ve never heard the Queen do a thing like that before.”
A silence fell over the assembled Highbeasts. Martin lifted the sword and with two swift strokes freed Rose of her hobbling log. Striding purposefully over to Pallum and Grumm, he slashed through the kelps that bound them to the logs. Pallum could not remember being without the great log impeding his footpaws. He held the broken kelp ends and wept silently.
Martin faced the Queen of the pigmy shrews eye to eye. “We want free!”
The silence on the shore intensified as Amballa drew herself up regally, her fierce little eyes burning into Martin’s. “Ballamum saythis. Yougo allfree!”
The ranks of the Highbeast tribe parted to let the four friends pass through. They walked in silence, holding the slashed kelp ends lest they tripped.
Suddenly Dinjer ran out in front of Martin, swinging a stick. He struck the young mouse, hard as he could. Martin winced as he took the blow full across the face. Dinjer was in a foul temper, striking and screaming as his tantrum grew.
“Biggamouse kickamee. Killslay biggamouse. He kickamee Dinjer!”
Instantly Amballa was between the two. She grabbed Dinjer, snapped the stick and threw it away, then seizing her son by his tail she began spanking him hard with her free paw.
“Martinmouse rightsay you stupid . . . little . . . beast!”
The loud cheers of the pigmy shrews, coupled with Dinjer’s anguished wails, cut through the sunlit morning as the four friends strolled free along the beach, away from pigmy shrews and captivity.
Grumm smiled fondly. “Burr, tha’ sound be loik music to moi ears!”