Doomwyte

Down in the tunnels, Chigid, Chieftain of the Painted Ones, was seething with wrath and pain. The pain, from blazing lantern oil searing his tail and nether parts. The wrath, to destroy the beasts who had inflicted such agonising embarrassment upon one of his lofty position. Standing at the rear of his band, he berated them, until the tunnel walls echoed to his scorn.

“Yaaar yigalig! Idjits! Cowwids! Get back down d’passage, charge an’ killem! Killem all, skin ’em, burn ’em like they burn Chigid. Chaaaarge!”

Pushed forward by the back ranks, the front and centre Painted Ones went, stumbling and tripping toward the ledge, which circled the deep abyss.

Behind the stalagmites which fronted Aluco’s retreat, the friends heard the foebeasts’ warcries. “Yeeeee! Gerrem! Killem! Yeeeeeeeeh!”

Skipper shielded the light from their last lantern, muttering grimly, “Belay, mates, sounds like we got vermin tryin’ t’pay us a visit. Are yore slings loaded?”

Dwink’s paws were shaking with nerves, but he replied boldly, “Aye, I’ve got four stones in mine!”

Bosie patted the young squirrel’s back. “Yer a braw laddie. Remember now, don’t shoot ’til I give ye the word. That goes for all o’ ye!”

Foremole Gullub nodded sagely. “Hurr, Oi ’opes ee plan wurks, zurr!”

The Highland hare replied blithely, “Och, it’ll have tae, ’tis the only one Ah’ve got.”

The yells of the enemy sounded louder now, closer. Umfry Spikkle began twirling his sling rapidly. “Do we lets ’em ’ave h’it now?”

Samolus tweaked Umfry’s snout. “Patience, young un, just do as Bosie says, wait!”

The roar of charging Painted Ones reached a crescendo. This was suddenly interrupted by screeches of dismay, and shouts to halt. “Yaaagh, stopstop! Gebback, back!” Having the excellent sight of an owl in darkness, Aluco whooped exultantly.

“Whoohoo! A load of the villains went straight over the rim, into the pit!”

Bosie began whirling his sling, remarking, “Aye, spilt lantern oil is verra slippy, Ah’m glad they’d forgotten that. Right, mah buckoes. Shoot!”

Each of the defenders had in his sling as many stones as it would hold. They rattled off a hefty volley at their adversaries. Bosie was yelling, “Load as fast as ye can, mah bonnies. Dinnae stop!” Turning aside, he whispered to the tawny owl, “Aluco, can ye see one that ye could capture?”

With his huge eyes dilating, Aluco pointed. “Actually I can see two of the scum in trouble over there. One has fallen stunned at the rim, the other is clinging to the side of the pit.”

The hare smiled admiringly. “Ah wisht Ah had your eyesight. D’ye no think ye could clamber out an’ get one of ’em?”

Aluco responded promptly, “Just don’t hit me with any of those stones, and I’ll collar both the blaggards, and bring ’em back here.” He scuttled out onto the narrow rim, which encircled the pit. Foremole Gullub followed.

“Oi’ll cumm with ee, zurr, jus’ to lend ee a paw.”

Skipper lofted a slingful of stones at the far side. “Good luck, mates, hurry now, we’ll give ye coverin’ fire. Don’t fret, we’ll aim high!”

The loss of their front rank into the abyss, coupled with the savage rain of stones, caused the Painted Ones to retreat momentarily. Aluco hooked the whimpering vermin who had been clinging to the edge. One heave of the owl’s huge talons lifted him onto the rim. Stunning him with a quick wingsweep, the owl began hauling him back. Foremole seized the other Painted One by his tail, dragging him along backward. “Yurr, you’m cumm with Oi!”

Hearing no further warcries from the opposite rim, Bosie called a cease-fire. They sat the two prisoners in the lantern light. Both the painted tree rats huddled fearfully together. Seizing both their ears, Samolus gave them a sharp twist, to gain the vermins’ attention. Bosie drew Martin’s sword, playing the point between his captives’ snout tips.

“Pay heed tae mah words, ye scruffy omadorms. Now, ye have two choices. One, Ah throw yer ears, tails an’ paws intae yon endless pit, after choppin’ ’em off. The rest of ye will follow at a leisurely pace. Och, what a pity, Ah can tell ye dinnae fancy that at all. So, are ye ready tae lissen te mah second option, which’ll mebbe save yer worthless lives?”

Two black-and-green-tattooed heads nodded furiously.

Chieftain Chigid’s mood was not improved when he saw his minions come scampering back empty-pawed. He laid about them with a rock tied to a thin rope. “Yeeeyakkah! Shoopid, daft idjits, wot ’appened?”

One venturesome voice dared a reply. “Chigid, it was slippery down there, an’ oily, d’front uns slid inta the big ’ole. They throwed lotsa stones an’ driv uz back. We couldn’t gerrat ’em!”

Chigid gritted his pointed teeth, snarling, “Dead’eads, git sand an’ soil, spread it onna oil. Cheechaah! I gotta do everythink meself, cummon foller me, I’ll show ’em!”