Log a Log stamped up onto the bank, shaking water from himself. The shrews were seated in a circle three deep when Bargle and his scouts came in. Log a Log motioned them to sit and help themselves to a beaker of rough cider each and some wedges of white celery cheese with shrewbread. When they were comfortably settled and eating, Bargle made his report.

“We saw the two Marlfoxes just afore noon, Chief, west of ’ere, over by widestream. Then they vanished, right in front of our eyes!”

Log a Log undid his shoulder belt and let his rapier fall to the ground, rubbing the back of a paw wearily across his eyes. “No sign o’ those rats or our logboats, I suppose?”

The shrew named Splikker shrugged. “Never saw ’em, but we tracked their sign, an’ they’re bound west an’ a point south, Chief. By the seasons, they can paddle boats as well as any shrew can, believe me.”

Log a Log shook his head despairingly. “Stands to reason, doesn’t it? They’re water rats. West an’ a point south, y’say?”

“Aye, Chief, but there’s a lot of ’em, so the logboats’ll be overloaded. I saw keel scrapin’s in the shallows. They can’t be travelin’ very fast, weighted down as they are.”

Log a Log drained his beaker and sat awhile, gnawing worriedly at his lip. The Guosim watched him in silence, until a scuffle broke out behind his back. Log a Log whirled around in time to see a hulking shrew deal the young one who had been eating the watercress a hefty blow. As the young shrew fell back holding his face, the hefty one began to kick him, rumbling bad-temperedly, “It was you, Dippler, sleepin’ on guard while those foxes’n’rats stole the boats from under yer nose, yer worthless, tail-draggin’. . .”

Log a Log was up in a flash. Launching himself sideways, he caught the hefty one a flying double kick to the stomach, sending him sprawling. The Chieftain stood over him, quivering with anger. “Lay a paw near Dippler again an’ I’ll boot yore guts through yer backbone, that’s if you’ve got any!”

The hefty shrew, who was called Fenno, glared up at his chief, his eyes filled with unspoken rage. Log a Log was older, smaller and lighter than him, but he was not Chieftain for nothing. Log a Log smiled, nodding back to his rapier on the ground. “C’mon, Fenno, yer a fine big beast. Carryin’ a blade, too. I’m not armed, but if y’figger yore brave enough t’carry out the beatin’s in this tribe, then why not try me? Come on, mate, let’s see what yore made of, eh?”

There was tension in the air as the Guosim watched both shrews. Then Fenno, still lying flat, placed a paw across his eyes, a sign of submission. A few chuckles broke out from the Guosim.