Wakka, Chieftain of the Gawtrybe, was a savage fighter. Swift too, though not as swift as Martin the Warrior. The young mouse saw the squirrel hurtling through the air at him and danced nimbly to one side. Wakka hit the ground on all fours. Whirling fast, he was up and into Martin, setting his claws tight into Martin’s sides, his sharp teeth seeking his opponent’s throat as the bushy tail pushed itself stiflingly over the mouse’s face. Martin bit into the tail hard, throwing himself backwards and shooting all four paws straight up. Wakka gave a shriek of pain and sailed over Martin’s head, straight into a bunch of squirrels. Martin was up immediately. Joining both paws tight like a club, he swung out, knowing what the squirrels would do. They heaved their leader bodily back at the young mouse, hoping to crush him.
Whopp!
Martin’s tight-joined paws cannoned straight into Wakka’s nose. The squirrel sat down, licking away blood and seeing stars. His head cleared and he rushed Martin. This time he feinted slightly. As Martin leapt aside, Wakka went the same way and caught him. Locking his legs round the mouse’s waist, the squirrel Chieftain clung like a limpet, scratching wildly at Martin’s face. The young mouse winced as the foebeast’s claws scored his cheeks deeply, trying to find his eyes. Martin threw himself forward, hitting the ground with Wakka beneath him. The breath was knocked from the squirrel in one gasp. Punishing him with another hard double pawblow to the nose, Martin was first up. With both paws held tight to his damaged nose, Wakka staggered up. Martin grabbed him, spun him around and leapt on to the squirrel’s shoulders. Clamping his footpaws round Wakka’s neck, Martin grasped both the squirrel’s ears as tight as he could and pulled upwards.
The squirrel screamed in agony, jumping from side to side and trying to dislodge his tormentor, but Martin hung grimly on, jaw muscles rigid as he pulled the ears tighter and locked his legs harder. Wakka bucked and leaped all around the ring formed by his bunch as Martin rode him, pulling savagely until the tendons stood out on his paws. Half strangled and with his ears near pulled out by the roots, Wakka went down like a stone, dust rising around as both creatures hit the earth. Martin jumped free. Placing his footpaw on Wakka’s head, he ground down hard, forcing the squirrel’s injured nose into the dirt. The Chieftain of the Gawtrybe struggled feebly, sobbing for breath as Martin’s paw stamped down harder.
The young mouse was breathing hard as he rasped out the question, “Have you had enough, squirrel? Because if you haven’t, we can carry on until the death!”
“Gnurff! Gnurff!”
Rose ran out. Grasping Martin’s paw, she cried piteously, “He’s had enough. Don’t kill him, Martin!”
The sound of Rose’s voice brought Martin back to reality. Veils of red mist fell from his eyes and the Warrior’s desire to kill left him. He allowed her to lead him back to his friends, and Grumm set about bathing his deep-scored face.
The Gawtrybe had gone unusually silent. They broke the circle, leaving their beaten Chieftain deserted in the dust. The squirrels dispersed into the ferns and lupins, where they immediately began howling with laughter and playing again, some of them sitting on others’ shoulders and pulling their ears as Martin had done to Wakka.
Pallum shook his head gravely. “Listen to that. What a bunch of savages!”
Rose applied strips of dockleaf to Martin’s wounded face. “There, that’s the best I can do for now. Let’s get away from this place. I hate it, and those horrible wild squirrels too!”
* * *
The tall lupins and ferns provided some coolness against the heat of the day as they made their way to the mountain slope. It was Pallum who spotted the cave, high up above them on the dusty dun-coloured mountain face it stood, like a single eye on some great beast.
Martin shook his head. “I doubt if we’ll reach it by nightfall.”
Rose was all concern for him. “Never mind if we don’t, we can camp on the mountainside until morning and reach it tomorrow. There’s no great rush, Martin. Take it slower. You must be tired after battling that big squirrel.”
Martin touched his stinging cheeks. “Don’t worry about me, Rose. I can walk as fast as anybeast.”
The mousemaid put on a stern face. Stumping ahead, she imitated the Warden’s stick-like gait as she mimicked the grey heron. “I say you will walk slower. I am the law!”
They fell about laughing and sat in the ferns while Grumm unpacked some of his invention cakes and a drink of water for each of them. Martin accidentally dozed off as Pallum was singing a little ditty.
“Oh, the hedgehog is a fine old beast,
All covered o’er with needles,
Not smooth, oh no, like some I know,
Eels an’ fish an’ beetles.
Some creatures calls us hedgepigs,
An’ others says hedgedogs,
But I do know that frogs is frogs,
An’ hedgehogs is hedgehogs!”
Rose held a paw to her lips. “Hush now, let him sleep awhile. He’ll feel better for it.”
* * *
It was getting towards late afternoon when Martin was wakened by the sound of Gawtrybe squirrels hooting and hallooing close by. He rubbed his eyes and noted the position of the sun in the sky.
“Oh no, have I been dozing the day away? We’ll never make it to the cave tonight now!”
Rose gave him water to drink and redressed his face wounds. “Come on then, grumpy. Perhaps you’ll be happier on the move.”
* * *
Shadows were lengthening as they emerged from the ferns on to the scree and rocks of the actual mountain face. Again they found their way barred by large numbers of the Gawtrybe.
Pallum’s bristles rose aggressively. “Not you lot again. What d’you want now?”
In the absence of their deposed Chieftain, they seemed to have several leaders.
“Wanna play!” one squirrel called out.
Rose eyed them frostily. “Well, we’re not stopping you. Play as much as you like!”
“Heehee!” another squirrel sniggered. “No, we want you t’ play!”
Martin drew his sword and took a pace towards them. “And supposing we don’t want to play?”
“Heeheehee! Then the Gawtrybe kill you!”
It was then that Martin noticed many of the squirrels were holding axes made from a piece of shale tied in the notch of a heavy stick. He held up a paw. “Wait while I ask my friends.”
The four travellers went into a huddle as Martin explained. “We’d last as long as a butterfly in a snowstorm trying to fight our way past that mob. I think we’re going to have to play whatever stupid game they’ve thought up.”
He could see that Rose was afraid, but she nodded. “Whatever you say, Martin. We’re with you.”
“Burr aye, iffen ’tis ’ee only way outen yurr, then so be et.”
“You lead on, Martin. We trust you.”
Martin smiled and patted Pallum carefully. Turning to face the waiting Gawtrybe, he addressed them.
“All right, we’ll play your game. What do we have to do?”
“Heehee, you run and we chase you.”
“That sounds like fun. Which way do we run?”
“Up the mountain, heehee!”
“Good, that was the way we were travelling, up the mountain. What happens next?”
“When we catch you . . . Heehee . . . We throw you off!”
Hatred for the Gawtrybe coursed through Martin’s veins. He gripped his sword tighter but continued to smile as he spoke. “I don’t think we’re going to like this game. My friends and I could be killed.”
Mass laughter greeted Martin’s statement, many voices calling out from the bunch in imitation of him.
“We could be killed. Heehee!”
“What a nasty game. Heehee!”
Martin waited until the noise had subsided.
“Fair enough, we’ll play,” he continued in a reasonable voice. “But the Gawtrybe are squirrels, very strong, fleet of paw, very very fast!”
Cheers arose from the squirrels. They obviously enjoyed flattery.
Martin grinned cheerily, waving his paws for silence. “We are slow and weary. The game would not be much fun if you did not give us a start. Then it would be a really good game!”
Some of the squirrels started to chant. “Really good game, really good game, really good game!”
Martin pointed to a high ledge protruding some distance above them. “Let us climb to that ledge before you start chasing us. When we reach the ledge, I will shout Gawtrybe. That is your signal.”
The squirrels changed their chant. “Gawtrybe! Gawtrybe! Gawtrybe!”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Martin yelled aloud.
They took up his cry. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
* * *
Rose was trembling slightly as the horde of wild squirrels leaped and danced in front of them, waving their stone axes and chanting fanatically. Grumm gazed up at the high ledge through the digging paws that were covering his eyes.
“Hoo urr, oi bain’t a beast oo loiks ’igh places, hurr no, zurr.”
Holding his sword at the ready, Martin took Rose’s paw. “Pallum, Grumm, stay close and tread carefully. Come on. If we can make it up to that cave, I think we’ll have a good chance of holding them off.”
Martin led the way. It was a tense situation. Howling squirrels waved axes in their faces, grinning unpleasantly. Martin bared his teeth and growled if any tried to paw them or come too close. Step by step the four friends made their way through the mad throng, Martin brandishing his sword, Grumm wagging his ladle warningly, Pallum extending his spikes and Rose swinging a foodpack in a businesslike manner. It seemed like hours, though it was only moments before they were clear.
* * *
Walking with deliberate slowness Martin spoke quietly to Pallum, who was bringing up the rear. “Pallum, take a slow glance behind and see if they’ve made any move to follow us yet. Do it casually.”
As Pallum turned his head, the Gawtrybe stopped chanting.
“They’re standing stock still, the whole crowd of them, not making a move or a sound, just watching us!” Pallum’s voice carried in it the tinge of fear.
Rose could feel countless pairs of wild eyes focused on them. The fur on her nape rose stiffly. “I’ve a feeling I’m not going to like this game, Martin.”
The young mouse held her paw tighter. “Blank it from your mind, Rose. Think of Noonvale.”
Reaching the first ledges, they helped one another up, ready to run should the Gawtrybe show any sign of pursuit. Sandy rock crumbled beneath their paws and slivering pieces of shale slid away down the mountainside. Two more small ledges to go. Martin dug his sword into a crack to aid his progress, leaning over the ledge and helping Rose to haul Grumm up. Pallum pushed the mole from behind.
Grumm scrabbled his way on to the ledge, not daring to look down at the crowd far below, still standing silent and waiting. “Oi doant moind unnergrounds but oi bain’t too fond of oop yurr!”
Pallum nearly tripped and fell backwards on the final ledge. He was windmilling his paws as he teetered perilously at its rim. Acting quickly, Rose swung the foodpack. The hedgehog caught the shoulderstrap, and she hauled him back to the safety of the ledge. Now the Gawtrybe were beginning to chant and dance again, eager to be on the chase. The four friends stood on the ledge which Martin had nominated, watching them. Martin took the pack from Rose and shouldered it.
“Are we ready?”
They nodded. Pallum spat on his paws and rubbed them together. “Right, Martin. Give them the signal!”
The young mouse stared down at the dancing hordes below. “Look at them mad, cruel beasts, playing games with the lives of other creatures. I wouldn’t waste my breath shouting signals to the scum. Let them guess whether or not the game has begun!”
The four friends took off as fast as they could, up the mountainside to the cave high above.
* * *
It took several seconds for the dancing, yelling mob to realize they had been cheated, Martin had not shouted the signal for them to start chasing. With a concerted howl of rage, the masses of squirrels dashed for the mountain, waving their axes. From the heights the four friends paused to glance down. Martin had been right: Gawtrybe squirrels were strong and fleet of paw. They were climbing at an amazing rate, every one agile and swift.
The game for the lives of the travellers had really begun!