“Look, there’s shrimp, just like Skipper and the crew get from the River Moss,” Gonff exclaimed. “What’s that, Log-a-Log?”

“Where? Oh, that. I think it’s called a starfish. Not very good to eat, though. See here, attached to the rock? These are limpets. They’re a bit chewy to eat, but they’ll keep us going.”

Dinny shook his head. “Nay, Gloglog, them’s shells loik ’ee picken up out of sarnd.”

The mole was surprised when Log-a-Log managed to prise one loose with his knife. He scooped the flesh out and cut it up, giving them each a portion.

“Chew on this,” he invited them. “Go on, it’s not poison.”

Gonff pulled a face at the unappetizing limpet flesh, but bravely he popped it into his mouth and began chewing.

“Tastes very salty,” he commented. “I bet you could chew this until next harvest came around and it’d still be bouncing off your teeth. Best swallow it in one gulp.”

Martin found some seaweed that tasted quite mild.

“Hey, try some of this! It’s like Goody’s cabbage with a bit too much salt on. Not bad though.”

Between them, they explored the different tastes of rock pool vegetation. The shrimp were proving too difficult to catch, though Gonff sat determinedly, his line hanging in the water, baited with a piece of limpet. Gradually it was taken by something which pulled it beneath an underwater ledge.

“Haha, mateys, I’ve got a bite,” he shouted excitedly. “Look out, here comes supper!”

Assisted by Martin, he pulled and tugged at the line. Finally they hauled up a small spidery object with a soft shell and two tiny claws.

“Throw it back. It’s a crab!” Log-a-Log called urgently to them.

Martin took hold of the small crab as Gonff tried to unlatch its claws from the segment of bait. There was a scrabbling and clattering noise at the poolside, and a huge carapace emerged.

Log-a-Log slashed the line with his knife, leaving the baby crab to enjoy the bait.

The water splashed away, displaced by a considerable bulk. Four blackish-gray armored legs clawed their way over the edge of the rock.

It was a fully grown crab!

The monster stood in front of them, its eyes roving hither and thither on long stalks. Two large plates opened, revealing a downward-slanting mouth that shed water and gaped open at them. But it was the creature’s claws that caused the most concern. Large powerful pincers, held high, snapping open and shut with a noise like steel hitting stone, they were studded with horny nodules that resembled teeth.

“Back off. Don’t try to fight it, you’ll lose,” Log-a-Log said, not taking his eyes from the angry crab. “Keep backing off until we’re on the sand. Then we’ll really have to run for it. Crabs can scuttle sideways very fast.”

They retreated carefully. The big crab blew a bubble from its mouth, lowered its claws, snapped them viciously at the intruders and charged like lightning.

* * *

Now that Cludd was gone, Tsarmina needed a new Captain of the Guard, so she promoted Brogg the weasel.