Martin was overjoyed. “Gonff, you old thief, is that really you?”

Their long-lost companion shook with silent mirth as he held up a cautionary paw. “Shush, matey. Not so loud. You’ll wake up the big feller. Here, grab this vine and I’ll pull you up.”

Gonff hauled Martin up; together they pulled Log-a-Log and Dinny to safety. All three shook water from their coats and warmly hugged the little mousethief.

“Bring any rations with you, matey?” Gonff was hungry.

“Nay, ’ee toaden took’m all.”

Gonff looked disgusted. “Oh, that warty lot. I might’ve known.”

Log-a-Log sat in the dryest spot he could find.

“But how did you come to get down here?” he asked curiously. “We thought you were dead for sure when we lost you at the waterfall.”

Gonff puffed his chest out indignantly. “Me, dead! Not likely. When I went over the falls I must have been washed right underneath the mountain by the currents. Next thing I knew, I woke up with the snake and the lizard standing over me. Foul reptiles, they’d bound me tail and paw. I was taken up in front of old Greenfrog, or whatever they call him. Huh, the filthy old swamp-hopper, he’d been listening to the snake and the lizard, and wanted to know where I’d hidden you three. Of course I told him to go and roast his fat green behind. That was when he lost his temper and had me chucked in here with old Snakefish.”

“What’s this Snakefish thing supposed to be?” Martin interrupted.

“Be? He’s not supposed to be anything, matey. Snakefish is a giant eel. Big, you never saw the like. He’s like a wriggling tree trunk. Here, watch this.”

Gonff prised a rock loose from the clay. Leaning out, he hurled it at what looked like a smooth boulder sticking out of the water. In the dim light, the brown muddy mess churned; boiling, as thick coils looped and weaved; thrashing about with untold might.

Gonff shuddered. “That rascal nearly had me. I was saved by the vine hanging from this cave. Good job I’m a prince of climbers. I still keep checking the tip of my tail to make sure it’s there—that’s how close it was. Still, he’s not a bad old sort, providing he keeps his distance. Oh yes, we’ve even had a conversation, Snakefish and me. He was the champion toadscoffer in this part of the country, until they laid a trap for him and he fell in here. Poor old Snakefish can’t get out now. Still, they keep him happy enough by slinging the odd enemy in here—the occasional fish, maybe a dead bird, passing travelers too, of course. Old Snakefish wallops the lot down, doesn’t bother him.”

Gonff leaned out, calling to the eel, “I said, it doesn’t bother you, does it, big matey?”

The surface of the dim water parted with a whooshing upheaval and the head of Snakefish appeared. It was something out of a nightmare: thick, wide, silver-black, and the color of yellow ivory beneath. A massive slablike head hissed and swayed, revealing countless teeth, pure white and needlelike. Two savage jet eyes watched them with unblinking intensity. Coils of flexible steely muscle rippled and undulated with a life of their own.