“Go an’ watch yoreself, squelchspines!”

The burly hogmaid grinned and called to Megraw, “What about thee, binnaclebeak?”

Dropping down from the window, Megraw spread his massive wings and glared about him savagely, raising a hooked talon. “Whit was that ye callit me, marm? Nary a beast livin’ meks sport o’ the Mighty Megraw!”

A moment later they were all out on the deck, soaking in the rain, gazing at the locked cabin door.

Burble sighed. “Sure, an’ I wonder why ’tis that eagles don’t have any sense o’ humor at all. We had to run for our lives there!”

Megraw sat alone in the locked cabin, muttering darkly, “Naebeast speaks ill o’ mither Megraw’s eggchick. Ye’ll stay oot in the elements until ye apologize tae me!”

Apart from the skies lowering darker a little, noon, twilight and evening remained virtually the same. Sheeting rain driving southward in heavy curtains over the lake surface as far as the eye could see, with a moderate wind spurring the raft ever onward toward the island. Megraw had been placated, but he deserted the cabin, choosing to stay on deck beneath a canvas awning, watching for sign of magpies. Gawjo lashed the tiller in position and joined his crew in the warm, cozy cabin, where a cheerful fire glowed within-the potbellied stove.

He lifted the lid from a cauldron, sniffing the simmering aroma. “By the seasons, that smells good’n’ decent. Wot is it?”

Dippler checked the contents, sprinkling in a pawful of sweet ground arrowroot to thicken up the sauce further.

“That’s a seagoin’ recipe, sir, called skilly’n’duff. Log a Log used t’make it for the Guosim, when we followed the waters down to the great ocean.”

Torrab hovered about the young shrew impatiently. “’Twill soon be ready, I trust?”

Dippler added more of the arrowroot and stirred it slowly. “Aye, soon now. The skilly is a thick sweet sauce with all manner o’ good things in. That big pudden floatin’ about in it is the duff, stuffed with wild plums, damsons, blackberries an’ chopped chestnuts, all cased up in a ball o’ spongy pastry, bit like a great dumplin’. Nothin’ like it to cheer up a body on a rainy ole night, you’ll see!”

The entire crew voted Dippler’s skilly’n’duff delicious, some of the big hedgehogs noting down the recipe for use on winter nights. The Guosim shrew recalled a comic seagoing monologue concerning the dish.

“Aboard the good ship Wobblechop,

I sailed when I was young,

First in line an’ feelin’ fine,

When the dinner bell was rung.

Our Cap’n ’ad a fog’orn voice,

An’ boots as big as me,

‘Stand by, me lads, ’ere comes a ship,

’Tis a pirate craft!’ cried he.

Whoa skilly’n’duff, that’s the stuff,

To keep nearby when things get rough!

The pirate Cap’n was a rat,

His name was Itchee Scratch,

Upon his nose, why goodness knows,