Gawjo’s hooded eyes appeared over the stern, staring straight at the grumbling watervole. “Wot was that you were burblin’ about, Burble?”

“Er, ah, ’twas nothin’, sir, yiss yiss, nothin’. We’re all doin’ a fine grand job down here, enjoyin’ ourselves, yiss!”

Dawn was streaking the lake with beige and pink amid low-lying cloudbanks. The stillness was eerie; there were no sounds of singing birds over the far-reaching inland sea. From stem to stern the raft was covered with boughs and fronds, tufts of vegetation and shrubs. Song thrust a final willow bough into the cabin chimneytop and climbed wearily down to the deck. She threw her grandpa a limp salute. “All covered, sir. Permission to sleep?”

A smile hovered around Gawjo’s slanted eyes as he nodded at the exhausted crew. They had worked hard and well. “Hmmm. Well, all right, permission granted. Y’can all sleep standin’ on yore heads with one eye open.”

Dippler bit his lip with feigned emotion. “O sir, yore too kind to us ungrateful wretches!”

Gawjo tweaked the shrew’s ear. “Aye, maybe I am, so I’ll stay awake an’ cut the throat of any crew member found snorin’. How’ll that do ye?”

Dann sniggered. “Better cut yore Song’s throat right now!”

“Ooh, you listen, Dannflor Reguba, you’re the snorer, not me!”

“Oh yiss yiss, Dann’s a grand ould snorer, but I think the champion’s got t’be me good mate Dipp, yiss yiss!”

“Hah! Stripe me blue, look who’s talkin’. Anybeast out on that lake’d think it was a foghorn if you kicked off snorin’!”

“Who, me? Ooh, y’fibber, watervoles don’t snore, ’tis a fact!”

Gawjo shook with laughter as he watched the indignant young creatures. The old squirrel cut short the dispute with a wave of his paw. “Hah! Snore, you think you can snore? Now Torrab an’ these hogs, they can snore! I’ll be surprised if there’s a leaf left on any tree within the area by the time they’re done snorin’. Huh, you ain’t heard snorers until you’ve slept in the same cabin as my family. I should know, ’tis me who’s had to suffer these many long seasons!”

Torrab gave Gawjo an affectionate pat, nearly knocking him flat. “Thou sayest the nicest things, ancient one!”

Song giggled. “Give him another pat, Auntie Torrab!”

Whether through excitement or overtiredness, the occupants of the cabin had difficulty in getting to sleep. Dippler propped himself up on a cushion. “C’mon, Song, give us a little tune. Mayhap that’ll help us to doze off. Yore grandpa ain’t heard you singin’.”

Song recalled a ditty of her Grandma Ellayo’s that reminded her of the joy she felt at watching Megraw fly.

“I sit alone and wish that I

Could be a bird up in the sky,

I’d join the breezes that do blow,

Whichever way they chanced to go,