Terrified weasels dived under the tables. Ferrets rushed madly for the fireplace, and got hopelessly stuck in the chimney.
The mighty Badger laid about him with his stick.
Mole gave a terrible war cry, "A Mole! A Mole!"
Rat flourished his pistol.
Toad, swollen to twice his usual size, went straight for the Chief Weasel.
There were only the four of them, but to the Wild Wooders they seemed like an army.
At last the room was clear, and all the weasels fled squeaking back to the Wild Wood, except for a few Mole had given brooms and aprons, and set to tidy up the Hall.