As the day drew on, however, and weariness and cold and hunger overtook them, they all became less concerned about Thunk and more about getting back to the fires of Eltown. The bank of the river seemed endless. In the early part of the day they were traversing country that had been logged but recently. The undergrowth was scant and the going easy enough. But as they advanced into parts that had been denuded of trees longer, they encountered dense thickets of wild brambles, made of thorny shafts that were stiff enough to impede their movement and yet flexible enough that when struck by their iron rods they seemed to dodge the blow and then spring back in counterattack. Steep sections of bank obliged them to climb inland away from the stream, adding miles to the trek.

Roper—the member of the crew who had saved Adam, earlier, by calling out his name—became especially despondent. It had always been in his nature to take a gloomy view of things and to require encouragement from his fellows and chastisement from the boss. “It cannot possibly be so far to Eltown,” he moaned. “Surely we have got lost and are going down some other river now, taking us to strange places where people, if there are any, speak in gibberish.”

“That makes no sense,” Adam pointed out. “There is but one river; we have kept it to our left the whole time and never been out of the hearing of it.”

“Do not be so sure,” said Bluff.

“Water runs downhill,” insisted Adam. “We may have strayed now and then from the bank, but we cannot have crossed over into some other streambed.”

“That may be true where you come from,” growled Feller, “but you forget that Eltown was founded by cursed souls who came here to escape El’s wrath. Honey saw El’s light and adored it, building her white tower above, but the others slunk into this dark vale to be out of El’s sight, and made their habitation in places they knew to be infested with wild souls who would not even obey Egdod, to say nothing of El. This river may be one such, for all we know. I have always sensed something uncanny about it. It hates us for what we have done to the forests along its banks and it would not surprise me if it had switched its course when we were not looking, so as to lead us into despair and danger.”

“That is a mad notion,” Adam muttered.

“Still it is easier going down than up, and so down it is,” Feller answered. “To wherever this cursed river would have us end.”