“Ha!” Gonff snorted. “It’s not a case of wanting. It hasn’t got the sense to release the stave. Can’t you see?”

As if to prove his point, the little mousethief joined the crab and actually began dancing along with it. Round and round they went, Gonff comically following his strange partner’s every twist and turn. Furiously the crab waggled its stalked eyes, opening and closing its mouth as it pranced crazily around, still clasping the stave tightly.

Martin and his friends nursed their aching ribs, trying not to laugh too hard. Tears streamed down their cheeks at Gonff’s antics.

“Oh hahahahooohooo. Stoppit, Gonff, please,” Martin begged. “Heeheeheehahaha. Come away and leave the silly beast alone. Hahahaha!”

Gonff halted he doffed a courtly bow at the enraged crab, “My thanks to you, sir. You truly are a wonderful dancer.”

The crab stood glaring at Gonff, with a mixture of ferocity and bafflement as the mousethief continued his polite compliments.

“Oh, I do hope we meet again at the next annual Rockpool Ball. Those shrimps are such clumsy fellows, you know. They tread all over one’s paws. They’re not half as good as you. Incidentally, who taught you to dance so well? Keeping all those legs going together, you didn’t trip once. My, my. We really must do this again sometime.”

The crab stood stock-still with the stave held high. It watched the four travelers depart along the shore, their laughter and jesting mingled on the breeze.

“Hahahaha! Wait’ll I tell Columbine. Maybe he’ll give her dancing lessons if we ever chance this way again, hahaha!”

“Burr, ’ee’m a wunnerful futt tapper.”

“What about you, Din? You could have joined them for a threesome reel.”

* * *

It had been an eventful day. Now, as the noon shadows began lengthening, the tide flooded in. The friends wended their weary way along the interminable shoreline. Salamandastron stood firm in the distance, never seeming to get any closer.

Tired and dispirited, they trekked onward, feeling the pangs of hunger and thirst. Apart from the odd seabird whose curiosity had to be fended off forcefully, they were completely isolated.

Log-a-Log shielded his eyes, pointing ahead. “Look, what are those birds up to over yonder?”

Some distance further on, gulls were wheeling and diving. There were two black shapeless objects upon the sand. The birds were concentrating their attack on the smaller of these.

Eager to see what was happening, the travelers broke into a trot. As they drew near to the scene, it became apparent that the gulls were harassing a living creature. Not far from where it lay there was a ramshackle lean-to.

Martin whirled his sling as he began running.

“Come on, mates. Let’s drive those scavengers off. Charge!”

The creature was a thin ragged rat. Gulls pecked and tore ruthlessly at it as it lay unprotected on the sand.

Under the fierce onslaught of stones and staves, the seabirds took to the air, screeching and wheeling above the intruders who had robbed them of their prey, and finally flying off to seek easier victims.