[Redwall 18] - High Rhulain by Brian Jacques Read Free Book Online Page A

Notice how it has preened its plumage back into shape, truly remarkable! Admittedly its mouth and beak must be rather stiff and quite sore, but what a grip on life our feathered friend has, eh? A real survivor I’d say, yes indeed!”
    The big bird swept its savage golden eyes over the assembly, then went back to grooming its wing feathers. Tiria felt happy for the bird, clearly a brave and solitary creature. “Do you think its thick plumage saved it from severe injury, Brother? Those rats were brutal vermin.”
    Perant nodded. “I don’t think we fully realise just how strong the bird is, Tiria. It’s a formidable creature.”
    Much to everybeast’s surprise, Abbess Lycian strode calmly over to the big bird and began gently stroking its head. It stayed quite still, perhaps sensing that she meant it no harm. Lycian spoke softly to it.
    â€œMy goodness, you certainly are a big, strong fellow. I wonder what sort of bird you really are?”
    Old Quelt had the answer. He was a silver-furred squirrel, an ancient dry stick of a beast, bent by many long seasons. Besides being the Redwall Recorder, Quelt had appointed himself the first Abbey Librarian. He had commandeered the lowest of the attic rooms and made it his own. There he had gathered every piece of written material Redwall possessed. Brink and Foremole Grudd had shelved the room out at his request. Parchments, scrolls, pamphlets, tomes and volumes covered the library from ceiling to floor. The old squirrel held in his paw a slim, bark-bound book. All of the Abbey members who had assembled listened carefully to what he had to say.
    â€œThis is a record of birds, written by one Abbess Bryony in the far bygone seasons. She had a particular interest in hunting birds. Let me read you what she wrote about this specimen.”
    Peering through his rock crystal spectacles, Quelt leafed the yellowed parchment pages. “Hmm, here it is. A bird that is rarely seen in the Mossflower territories. They have been reported by geese who have visited Redwall as mainly inhabiting a place called Green Isle, where they hunt the rivers, loughs and streams. They are said to be large, powerful birds; their description runs thus. Dark-brown upper plumage, with white feathers underneath the body. Long wings, with brownand-white-patterned undersides, angled two-thirds of the way along. The head is white-crowned, with two dark stripes. These are barred across the eyes, giving a masklike aspect. The eyes are broadly gold-ringed, with jet-black centres. These birds have lethally curved beaks. They also possess four black talons of savage aspect on each blue-grey scaled leg.”
    Closing the book, Quelt favoured Tiria with a rare smile. “So then, do ye not think your bird fits the description?”
    The ottermaid agreed readily. “Indeed I do, sir, perfectly!”
    The ancient Librarian pointed a bony paw at the bird. “These were known as pandions in olden times. What you have brought to our Abbey is an osprey, the great fish hawk!”
    Brink Greyspoke stared admiringly at the osprey. “A fish’awk, eh? That ’un must need vittles wot he’s used to. What d’ye think, Skip? Shall we go an’ catch our osprey a fish? There’s grayling aplenty in the Abbey pond.”
    Skipper, who loved to go fishing but seldom got the chance, was all for the idea. “Aye, let’s do that, Brink. Can’t see that big ole feller starve now, can we? Er, with yore permission, Mother Abbess, me’n Mister Greyspoke would like to go night fishin’.”
    Lycian could not help smiling at the eager pair. “Just for the benefit of the osprey, of course? Nothing to do with taking the little boat out on the pond, together with some refreshment for a quiet summer’s night.”
    Brink’s eyes went dreamy at the thought. “Just me’n ole Skip, out on the pond in our liddle boat with the moon above, a flagon