Mornings were dawning in soft mist; the days grew shorter, sunsets earlier and more crimson. The earth was turning its season from summer to autumn.

Hares had come to the mountain, traveling from far corners to serve under the banner of Salamandastron’s ruler, the fabled Lord Brocktree. Travelers carried abroad tales of his valor and the brave army who had defeated the evil might of Ungatt Trunn and his Blue Hordes. There was a fresh spirit of joy and freedom upon the lands; now anybeast could range the earth in peace. But there were also creatures leaving the mountain to return to their homes. Ten ships from the defeated fleet had been recovered and made good and seaworthy. Twoscore vermin captives, their coats scoured clean of blue dye, had worked on the vessels, making them ready for this special day.

Brogalaw took five of the ships. His crew of sea otters and their families boarded, laden with gifts, for their voyage south. Then he came ashore with Durvy, Konul and the heron, Rulango, to say farewell. Dotti was embracing them when she went into floods of tears. She fought to stem them, to no avail.

“Oh, I say, you chaps, sniff sniff, I feel absolutely dreadful, boohoo! Can’t help m’self, Brog, waahaah! Gettin’ your tunic all wet, look. Boohoohaaah!”

The kindly sea otter Skipper gave her his kerchief. “Haharr, you carry on, miss. I’m used t’this sort o’ thing, y’know. Wot with my mum weepin’ an’ wailin’, I’ll wager we end up balin’ out tears to stop us sinkin’ afore we’re back ’ome down southcoast!”

Lord Brocktree stood in the mountain’s main entrance, waving with his sword as Brog and his friends returned aboard their ship. “Farewell and fair winds, friends. Brog, you’ll come back and visit, I trust?”

“Aye, lord. Keep the vittles a-cookin’—you never know wot season the ole Bark Crew’ll come blowin’ up the coast to eat you out o’ ’ouse an’ ’ome. Watch out for us, Ruff!”

Tears sprang into Ruff’s eyes, and he looked at the badger. Brocktree nodded and clasped his paw fondly. “Go on, get along with you. See you next spring mayhap.”

Kissing Dotti, Ruff bounded past her into the water. “Ahoy, Brog, I’m comin’ with ye! I always wanted t’learn ’ow t’be a sea otter. Lend a paw ’ere, mates!”

As he was hauled aboard, Bucko Bigbones came marching out of the main gate, followed by his mountain hares.

“Ach weel, Brock, there’s mah ships an’ here am ah. Ah won’t stan’ aroond weepin’ like a wee bairn. ’Tis aff tae the North Mountains for me’n’mah clan. Mind, though, we’ll be ever ready tae come ef ye call for us. Not that ye’ll be needin’ help, a braw beast like yersel’, with all these fine young hares a-floodin’ in by the day. Fare ye weel!”

Dotti held Bucko’s paw before he boarded his vessel. “I’m going to miss you pretty awfully, y’know, Bucko. Wouldn’t you consider staying on a few seasons, help me to command the new Long Patrol that Lord Brock’s forming? We’d have lots of super adventures, you’n’me, ranging the shores an’ woodlands an’ whatnot, wot wot?”

The mountain hare ruffled her ears affectionately. “Och no, lassie, ah’m yearnin’ tae return tae mah mountains. But we’ll be the highland branch o’ yer Long Patrol if ye like, an’ ah’ll call mahsel’ General Bucko. Fare ye weel, Dorothea, live lang an’ happy. Yer a fatal beauty the noo!”

Biting her kerchief so as not to let Bucko see her weeping, Dotti hurried back to the main entrance. Ruro was waiting for her, wearing a silver medallion about her neck.

“Look at the honor thy Badger Lord bestowed upon me. I’m to be leader of my tribe. ’Tis called a Jukka medal!”

The haremaid inspected the beautiful insignia, a likeness of Jukka, twirling what else but a sling. “It’s lovely, Ruro. I won’t say goodbye, ’cos your pine grove’s not more than a couple o’ days’ walk from us. We’ll call and see one another often, wot?”

Ruro signaled her tribe to move off. “’Tis a promise, Dotti!”

Dotti turned to Log a Log Grenn. “An’ you, Grenn marm—you and your Guosim will be on your way then, won’t you, wot?”

The shrew Chieftain nodded, close to tears herself. “If ever you need us, just send word.”

Mirklewort chased after Skittles. He came out of the mountain like a tiny boulder, knocking Dotti flat, a great smile plastered all over his cheeky face.

“We gonna stay onna mounting a few seasons, wiv you an’ B’ock. I paggle every day inna water wiv ya, Dotti!” Mirklewort took a swipe at the hogbabe with a dish towel, but he scampered up onto the Badger Lord’s sword hilt. “Choppa you tail off if ya do dat again, Mummy!”

Gurth flicked Skittles’s snout with his digging claw. “You’m ’ave respecks for ee muther, likkle zurr. Oi’m stayin’ yurr jus’ to keep a h’eye on ee, villyun! An’ as furr ee, miz Dott, you’m cumm with oi. Yurr h’aunt Blench sez ee got to lurn ee cooken!”

Dotti ducked beneath Brocktree’s paw for protection. “Oh I say, sah, bit much, isn’t it? How in the name o’ seasons is a gel supposed to be bossess of your blinkin’ Long Patrol an’ whomp around the bloomin’ kitchens helpin’ Aunt Blench? What am I, Patrol Bossess or flippin’ cook?”

Brocktree hid a smile as he looked down at her. “The title is Patrol General, miss, not Bossess, and there’s a whole lifetime ahead of you, Dotti—you’re still young enough to learn lots of new things. Now, is everybeast here? I see they’ve hauled anchors. Brog’s bound south and Bucko’s bound north.”

Striding out on the sands, Brocktree looked about at the legions of hares, sitting on the mountain terraces and perched on the shore rocks. “Up on your paws now, my friends,” he called. “Let’s give our departing comrades a real Salamandastron farewell. Ready? One, two . . .”

Leaning over the sterns of their vessels, both Brogalaw and Bucko Bigbones could not help joining in with the thunderous roar from the shore. The ten ships sailed off into the golden afternoon, with the farewell war cry gladdening the hearts of all.

“Eulaliiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”