“And then, I was trying to swim and I felt that Heeby was near, so I shouted for her, and she came to me. And we swam together for a while. Then a really big tangle of wood floated by. Maybe it had been part of the bonfire, I don’t know. But it hit us and we sort of got tangled in it. Well, I didn’t. I climbed up on top, but Heeby got tangled. She wasn’t drowning, but she couldn’t break free. So I told her, ‘Don’t fight it, let’s just ride it out.’ And we did, all that night, and the next morning we found we were way out in the middle of the river and could hardly see the shores. I didn’t think we could swim to the shore so I thought, well, just stay with the floating wood tangle until we can see the shore. And that was a bad time for both of us, because she was stuck and we just got pushed on and on by the river. No food or water for either of us.”

“How long was that?”

“Don’t remember. More than two days, anyway.” His claws were black. He scratched under his chin, gave a happy wriggle, and then settled again. “By and by, anyway, the river washed us up on the place where there was a big low meadow. Must have been on the other side of the river from the side we kept to when we were following the Tarman, because it didn’t look to me like anywhere we had passed. And the river was on the wrong side of us, if you get what I mean. Well, there I could help Heeby get untangled and we went ashore. And we didn’t have much, but I still had my fire-starting stuff, because I always keep it in this pouch. See?”

“I see,” she replied. Her pen flew, but she glanced up briefly as he held up the pouch he wore on a string around his neck.