"10 - The Long Patrol UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jacques Brian)

outrage! Y're a pollywoggle and a ripscutt! Hah, that's it, a scruff-furred, lollop-eared, blather-pawed, doodle-tailed, jumped-up-never-t'come-down bogwhumper! What are yen?"

Tammo's mother, Mem Divinia, had been hovering in the background, tending a batch of barleyscones on the griddle. Wiping floury paws upon an apron corner, she bustled forward, placing herself firmly between husband and son.

"That's quite enough o' that, Corney Fformelo, I'll not have language like that under my roof. Where d'you think y'are, in the middle of a battlefield? I won't have you roaring at my Tammo in such a manner."

Instead of calming the Colonel's wrath, his wife's remarks had the opposite effect. Suffused with blood, his ears went bright pink and stood up like spearpoints. He flung down the pace stick and stamped so hard upon it that he hurt his foot-paw.

"Eulalia'n'blood'n'fur'n'vinegar, marm!"

Mem countered by drawing herself up regally as she grabbed Tammo's head and buried it in the floury folds of her apron. "Keep y'voice down, sir, no sense in settin' a bad example to your son an' makin' yourself ill over some battle-ax!"

The Colonel knew better than to ignore his wife. Rubbing ruefully at his footpaw, he retrieved the pace stick. Then, fixing his monocle straight, he sat upright, struggling to moderate his tone.

"Some battle-ax indeed, m'dear! I'm discussin' one particular weapon. My battle-ax! This battle-ax! D'y'know, that young rip took a chip out o' the blade, prob'ly hackin' away at some boulder. A chip off my blade, marm! The same battle-ax that was the pride of the old Fifty-first Paw'n'fur Platoon of the Long Patrol. 'Twas a blade that separated Searats from their gizzards'n' garters, flayed ferrets out o' their fur, whacked weasels, an' shortened stoats into stumps! An' who was it chipped the blade? That layabout of a leveret, that's who. Hmph!"

Tammo struggled free of Mem's apron, his face thickened with white flour dust. He sneezed twice before speaking. "I ain't a leveret any longer, sir. If y'let me join the jolly oF

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Long Patrol, then I wouldn't have t'get up to all sorts o' mischief, 'specially with your ax, sah."

The Colonel sighed and shook his head, the monocle falling to one side as he settled back wearily into his armchair. "I've told you a hundred times, m'laddo, you're far too young, too wild'n'wayward, not got the seasons under y'belt yet. You speak to him, Mem, m'dear, the rogue's got me worn out. Join the Long Patrol indeed. Hmph! No self-respectin' Badger Lord would tolerate a green b'hind the ears little pestilence like you, laddie buck. Run along an' play now, you've given me enough gray fur, go an' bother some otherbeast. Be off, you're dismissed, sah. Matter closed!"

Tammo saluted smartly and hurried off, blinking back unshed tears at his father's brusque command. Mem took the pace stick from her husband's lap and slapped it down hard into his paw.

"Shame on you, Comspurrey," she cried, "you're nought but a heartless old bodger. How could y'talk to your own son like that?"

The Colonel replaced his monocle and squinted challeng-ingly. "Bodger y'self, marm! I'd give me permission for Lynum or Saithe t'join up with the Long Patrol, they're both of a right age. Stap me, though, neither of 'em's interested, both want t'be bally soil-pawed farmbeasts, I think." He smiled slightly and stroked his curled mustache. "Young Tammo, now, there's a wild 'un, full of fire'n'vinegar like I was in me green seasons. Hah! He'll grow t'be a dangerous an' perilous beast one day, mark m'words, Mem!"

Mem Divinia spoke up on Tammo's behalf: "Then why not let him join up? You know 'tis all he's wanted since he was a babe listenin' to your tales around the fire. Poor Tammo, he lives, eats, an' breathes Long Patrol. Let him go, Corney, give him his chance."

But the Colonel was resolute; he never went back on a decision. "Tammo's far too young by half. Said all I'm goin' t'say, m'dear. Matter closed!"

; Popping out his monocle with a wink, Comspurrey De Fformelo Tussock settled back into the armchair and closed his good eye, indicating that this was his prelunch naptime. Mem Divinia knew further talk was pointless. She sighed wearily

8 Brian Jacques

and went back to her friend Osmunda the molewife, who was assisting with the cooking.

Osmunda shook her head knowingly, muttering away in the curious molespeech, "Burr aye, you'm roight, Mem, ee be nought but an ole bodger. Oi wuddent be surproised if* n mais-ter Tamm up'n runned a ways one mom. Hurr hurt, ee faither can't stop Tamm furrever."

Mem added sprigs of young mint to the golden crust of a carrot, mushroom, and onion hotpot she had taken from the oven. "That's true, Osmunda, Tammo will run away, same as his father did at his age. He was a wayward one too, y'know. His father never forgave him for running away, called him a deserter and never spoke his name againЧbut I think he was secretly very proud of Comspurrey and the reputation he gained as a fighting hare with the Long Patrol. He died long before his son retired from service and brought me back here to Camp Tussock. I was always very sorry that they were never reconciled. I hope the Colonel isn't as stubborn as his father, for Tammo's sake."

Osmunda was spooning honey into the scooped-out tops of the hot barley scones. She blinked curiously at Mem. "Whoi do ee say that?''

Mem Divinia began mixing a batter of greensap milk, ha-zelnut, and almond flour to make pancakes. She kept her eyes on the mix as she explained: "Because I'm going to help Tammo to run away and join the Long Patrol. If I don't he'll only hang around here gettin' into trouble an' arguin' with his father until they become enemies. Now don't mention what I've just said to anybeast, Osmunda."

The faithful mole wife's friendly face crinkled into a deep grin. "Moi snout be sealed, Mem! Ee be a doin' the roight thing, oi knows et, even tho* ee Colonel won't 'ave 'is temper improved boi et an' you'll miss maister Tamm gurtly."