“Yiss yiss, have ye not heard of porterage? Well, I’ll tell ye, me fine-furred friends. It means that we’ve got to foller this liddle water trickle till it becomes a stream agin. Yiss yiss, a-carryin’ the good boat Swallow upside down on our ’eads!”

Dann started climbing back over the treetrunks. “Stands to sense, Burb. We’d never get anywhere tryin’ to float the Swallow in that tiny dribble. Come on, porters, let’s try a bit o’ porterage. I’m game if you lot are!”

Fortunately the Swallow was a comparatively light craft. Shouldering their packs and placing the paddles flat across their shoulders, the friends turned her upside down, lifted her over their heads, then lowered her onto the outstretched blades. This meant that their heads were inside the upturned boat and one had to follow the other blindly. Dann took the lead, being the tallest, followed by Dippler and Burble, with Song at the rear of the line. It was hard going, hot and stuffy inside the boat, where they were visited by various winged pests. However, they pressed on stoically, trying to ignore the hardships.

Dunk!

“Yowch! Watch where yore goin’ up there, Dann!”

“Sorry. ’Twas a big overhangin’ branch, didn’t see it.”

“Yiss yiss, maybe y’didn’t see it, matey, but we felt it!”

“Well, so did I, so stop complainin’, will yer!”

“Burb ain’t complainin’, he’s debatin’. Creatures got a right to debate, watervoles as well as us shrews. Any’ow, how can y’tell if we’re goin’ the right way, Dann?”

“Pudden’ead! Because I’m walkin’ in the liddle stream an’ me footpaws are soakin’ wet and soggy, that’s ’ow! Song, will y’please sing a ditty or two to shut that pair up. Honestly, talk about gabby. Guosim an’ wofflin’ watervoles, spare me from them!”

Song liked the way her voice echoed inside the upturned boat.

“Oh how could a hedgehog marry a mole,

He’s prickly prickly prickly,

An’ live with a squirrel all in a great hole,

Very tickly tickly tickly.

An’ what if an otter could dance with a trout,

He’d stay in the river an’ never come out.

Pray tell me whatever they’d all think o’ me,

Inviting a bumblebee in for its tea?

Why they’d come in and join us for goodness’ sake,

For scones an’ trifle an’ blueberry cake,

Elderflow’r cordial an’ strawberry pie,

Oh turn caterpillar to bright butterfly!”

Burble stubbed his footpaw on a stone, which did not improve his argumentative mood. “Tchah! ’Edge’ogs’n’squirrels’n’bumblebees eatin’ cake an’ suppin’ cordial together? Don’t make much sense, do it? Yowch! D’yer mind not walkin’ on the backs o’ me footpaws, missie!”

“Sorry, Burb, and I’m sorry you didn’t like my song. ’Tis only an old nonsense ditty my Grandma Ellayo used t’sing to me.”