Dotti sat on the streambank, breakfasting on fresh fruit salad with her friends. The haremaid was now under instruction as a contender for King Bucko Bigbones's crown.

Celestia read out the rules which had been delivered by the king's seconds. "Two days from now, the three events will commence: the Bragging, the Feasting, and the Fighting. The Bragging will take place on the eve of day one. Whichever beast wins the Brag will be the creature voted by common consent of the crowd to have outbragged the other. Dawn of day two the Feasting will commence; the victor will be the one left sitting, still eating, at sunset, or until one creature yields to the other. Noon of day three is the Fighting. No weapons or any arms whatsoever are to be taken into the ring. All supporters and seconds must have vacated the ring by the time the crown is dropped. The king has the right to decide whether the contest be from scratch, or moving freely. The moment one beast cannot rise and continue fighting, the other will be declared the winner. Note: in the event of Bragging or Feasting being won, lost, or declared a tie, the winner of the Fighting will be declared outright king. These are the approved rules!"

Fleetscut laughed scathingly. "Bucko's rules made by himself, eh? He's only got to win the jolly old Fighting an' he's home 'n' dry, wot?"

"But he's no pushover," said Luna. "We saw that in the fight yesterday. He's shown himself to be a beast that will win at any cost."

"You gotta smack his tail with a big stick!" Chancellor Puddinghead shouted excitedly.

"I can't do that, the flippin' rules just said I'm not allowed to bring any weapons into the ring, wot."

Brocktree scratched his stripes thoughtfully. "Maybe Puddinghead has just provided us with the answer!"

"That's the answer? Smack the king's tail with sticks?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. We smack his pride. Can you see what I'm getting at?"

Celestia caught on to the idea immediately. "Aye, that's how Dotti'll win, by keeping cool and calm. Turn the jokes on Bucko, get the supporters on her side."

Princess Platinum began warming up to the plan. "Play the good natured, well brought up haremaid. Use your wit against the braggart. Make him fall into his own traps!"

"Use his own weight against him. Duck an' weave!" Clover the Clever suggested.

"Aye, show him up to his supporters as a fraud an' a cad, wot!" Fleetscut chimed in. "Keep y'nose in the air an' dismiss Bucko as a ruffian!"

Commander Hurricane put an arm about Dotti's shoulder. "Don't fret, miss, I'll show you one or two boxin' tricks, an' when he's least expectin' it, you can use 'em!"

"Ah kin teach ya some stuff too," Smart Cookie said. "Ah'm a champeen earth pony wrassler!"

Dotti grinned. "Right! We'll outthink him at every turn!"

Over the next two days Dotti wrestled with Cookie, was instructed in the art of boxing by Hurricane, and listened to the wisdom of her elders. It was all very helpful and instructive, except for one thing. Part of her training included a strict diet: no food and precious little water. For a creature of her young appetite it was nothing less than sheer brutal torture. When meals were served she was forced to sit out of the sight of food, guarded by Brocktree. Nursing a beaker filled with water with a light sprinkle of crushed oats added to it, she glared at her badger friend.

"Rotten an' stingy, that's what you lot are, miserable grubswipers. When I'm a kingess- or d'you think queen sounds better?- I'll banish the whole bally gang. Everybeast who refused a fatal young royal beauty a morsel, away with 'em!"

Brocktree swiped her ears playfully. "Tis only for your own good, young 'un. You'll thank us for this one day."

"Oh, an' pardon me, what day'll that be, sah, wot?"

Glancing over her shoulder, Brocktree whispered, "Hush now, miss, here comes Bucko."

A light skiff with two mountain hares plying it drew alongside. Bucko was seated beneath a canopy with a jug of pale cider and a trayful of pasties and tarts. He grinned roguishly at his challenger.

"Weel now, 'tis a bonny summer noontide, lassie. Would ye no care for a tart or pastie… mebbe a beaker o' this guid pale cider? Join me, pretty one?"

Dotti knew she couldn't let Bucko see how put out she was. She blinked serenely. "Thank you kindly, but I'd rather not. I've just finished quite a large luncheon."

Bucko bit into a tart, and blackcurrant juice ran down his chin. "mmm, naught like a fresh blackcurrant tartie, mah pretty!" he guffawed.

Dotti took a dainty sip of her clouded oatmeal water. "Naught like a fresh mountain hare, I always say. Kindly remove yourself downstream, sah, your table manners offend me. There may be a few mad toads down there who'd be glad of your company. Toads aren't too choosy, y'know."

Bucko bolted the rest of the tart and licked his paws. "Och, an' ye'd know aboot toads' manners, I ken?"

Dotti gave him her sweetest smile. "Indeed I do. Mother always held them up to me as a bad example. Pity your mother hadn't the sense to show you."

Bucko scowled. He tried to stand up, but the skiff swayed. "Ah'll thank ye tae leave mah mither oot o' this. Another word aboot her an' I'll teach ye a braw sharp lesson!"

The haremaid stared down her nose at the irate king. "Your accent's slipping, y'know, old chap. If you're going to say 'Ah' for 'I', you should use 'Ah' all the time, not just sometimes."

Bucko got even angrier, and lost his Scottish accent even more. "I'm only saying it the way Brian Jacques wrote it in the book! You can't question the way Brian Jacques wrote it, or the whole story will fall apart! And you look like the back of a shirt!" Then he lost his balance and fell into the stream. Dotti turned her nose up in the air and marched away with Brocktree as the other two hares tried to fish him out.

"Well done, miss," Brocktree said. "If you can upset him like that during the actual challenges, we'll have nothing to worry about."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was the evening of the first day. Crowds gathered at the log-bounded arena amid a festive air. There was music, singing, the sound of picnic hampers being shared and banter from supporters on both sides. Candied fruit and treasured possessions- knives, belts, tail and paw rings or precious materials, some studded with glinting stones- were changing paws as betting opened. As usual, Bucko was the firm favorite. Nobeast had ever seen him lose, so they weren't about to wager on an outsider.

Amid a roll of drums and a blast from a battered bugle, King Bucko Bigbones entered the ring, with an honor guard of his cronies. He wore his broad belt, his cloak, two silver paw rings, and the laurel-twined crown perched on his brow at a jaunty angle. Whirling the cloak dramatically, he shed it and threw the garment to his minions. Then he paraded around the perimeter, acknowledging the cheers by leaping high, with one clenched paw held up.

Dotti wore a demure cloak of light blue, with the slightest hint of a frill at its neck. She carried her bag and stood patiently while Princess Platinum made final adjustments to her flowered straw bonnet, specially loaned to her by Platinum for the occasion.

The zebra referee puffed herself up officiously and roared in her stentorian voice:

"Gentlebeasts all, pay heed to what I say!

The Bragging challenge will take place today.

This lovely contestant's name

Is Dorothea Duckworthy Dillfontein!"

Dotti tapped the zebra. "Correction, my good marm, the name's Duckfontein Dillworthy. Would you kindly re-announce me, please?"

This brought a few encouraging laughs and some shouts.

"That's the stuff, miss. You tell the ole windbag!"

"A gel that jolly well stands up for herself, wot. Good show!"

The zebra glared.

"I have no time.

And that doesn't rhyme.

Now let the Braggin' begin.

May the best creature win!"

Silence fell on the crowd. Dotti stood quite still in the center of the ring and said nothing. Bucko paced about the edges, as if stalking her. Suddenly he did a splendid cartwheel and a breathtaking leap. He landed very close to Dotti, who did not flinch, and began his brag.

"Yerrahoo! Ah'm the mighty monarch frae the mountains! Mah name's King Bucko Bigbones. Whit d'ye think o' that, mah bonnie wee lassie? Isn't this a consistent accent?"

Dotti ignored him and waved cheerily to her friends. "Isn't he clever? He knows his own name. It must have taken him simply ages to learn it, wot?"

There was a ripple of laughter from the crowd.

Bucko stamped until dust rose, and leapt clear over Dotti's head. Still she did not move from her place. Bucko thrust out his barrel chest and thumped it.

"Ah'm nae feart o' anybeast. Ah wiz born on a moonless night 'midst thunder 'n' lightnin'!"

Amid the hush that followed, Dotti carefully wiped a speck of dust from her paw with a lace-edged kerchief. "Tut, tut, what dreadful weather you had. Did you get wet?"

This time the laughter increased. Raucous guffaws could be heard, some with a distinct mountain hare tone to them. Bucko had to wait for the merriment to subside, his jaw and his paws clenched tight.

He thrust his face forward until he was eye to eye with Dotti, and his big voice boomed forth. "Yerrahoo, wee beastie, have ye ever looked death straight in the eye, eh? Then look at him whit stands afore ye!"

The crowd waited with baited breath. Dotti peered even closer at her opponent, until her nose touched his. "Hmm, you look a little peaky, sah. All that shouting can't be doing you much good- all that jumping about, too. Have you got a pain in your tummy, is that it?"

Roars and hoots of laughter greeted this remark. Creatures at the ringside were wiping tears from their eyes.

"Yahahaha! Pain in the tummy, that's a good 'un!"

King Bucko was shaking all over. Glaring murderously at Dotti he gripped both paws, raising them over her head as if he were going to bring them down and crush her. She nodded in prim approval of his action. "Bit of exercise, sah, good! My mother always says exercise is the best cure for tummy ache. Come on now, hup! Down! Hup! Breathe through your nose, head well back, sah!"

She moved just as Bucko's paws came crashing down, one of them catching her shoulder, knocking her slightly off balance. The crowd booed.

"Foul! Foul play, sir!"

"He struck the little haremaid!"

Several hares, Commander Hurricane, Celestia, and the zebra referee leapt the logs and rushed forward. The hares and Hurricane restrained Bucko, and Celestia placed a hoof about Dotti, while the zebra placed herself between the two contestants and held up a copy of the rules.

"One moment, Sire, just one moment!

You're not allowed to strike your opponent.

It says so here in your own writing.

This is the Bragging, not the Fighting.

You have broken your own rules.

You get nothing, sir, you lose!"

Bucko grabbed his cloak and pushed through the crowd, knocking creatures this way and that in his haste to flee the scene of his disgrace.

Jubilation reigned. Dotti was swept shoulder high and carried around the ring several times. Stamping, whistling and shouting, the crowd cheered her to the echo.

Fleetscut was absolutely overjoyed. "I say, good show, absolutely top-hole performance from the young 'un, wot wot!"

Luna said, "Dotti may have won the first challenge, but she can't afford to get overconfident. The king is still dangerous."