The flooding of Kotir had begun!

Driving Wuddshipp inland against the flow of the River Moss was a difficult task.

All paws manned the oarbanks, and Martin sat alongside Timballisto.

“Phew! I never realized rowing was such heavy work,” Martin groaned.

“Pull, my friend, pull. It’s twice as bad when you have to do it on half-rations with a sea rat’s whip cracking about your ears and you chained to the oar.”

The vessel had been built for coast raiding. Though it was a large craft, it had a flat bottom for taking shallow draught; thus it was able to travel upriver without a deep keel sticking in the shallows.

Inland they traveled, sometimes aided by a breeze when the sails were hoisted. Other times saw two teams dragging her forward on headropes from the riverbanks.

It took a day and a half of hard work to get across the flat beach and into the dunes, where the river was tighter-channelled and flowed faster against them. Log-a-Log solved the problem by using the long galley oars from the deck. Two crew to each oar, they punted and pushed Wuddshipp through the dunes, keeping her head upriver with great difficulty. Gradually the dunes gave way to hilly scrubland and the sand began to disappear.

It was a weary crew that sat upon the bank that night, watching the ship riding at anchor.

Gonff hurled a clod of earth at the fast-flowing water. “We’ll never make it this way, mateys. Why not abandon ship and march the rest of the way?”

Harebell and company smiled sweetly.

“Oh, you are a silly, Mr. Gonff. We must take the ship.”

“The river flows back to the sea, you see.”

“And we may need that to make a quick getaway if we are pushed.”

Martin winked at Gonff. “The ladies certainly know their strategy. By the way, has anyone seen Log-a-Log Big Club?”

As if in answer, the shrew strode up out the gathering gloom. “Aye aye. I’ve been scouting ahead. Found the old village, too. Come on, you lucky lot. There’ll be a hot meal and a warm bed with a roof overhead tonight. Banksnout, you wouldn’t recognize your little ones now—they’re taller than me. Oh, Martin, I forgot to tell you, we’ve gained another hundred able-furred recruits.”

* * *

Delight awaited them at the shrew village as families were reunited amidst cheering and shouting.

“Daddy, Daddy, it’s me, Emily, your baby shrewlet.”

“Hoho, look at you! You’re bigger than your mum.”

“Sharptail, you said you were going for acorns. That was four seasons ago! Where have you been?”

“Sorry, m’dear. Sea rats y’know. What’s this, grandshrew babies?”

“Aye, you’re a grandpa shrew now.”

“By the fur! Here, give me a hold of that little fat feller.”

“Gluggabuggaluggoo!”

“Haha. See, he knows me already.”

The hares joined Martin and the others around a fire. Two plump shrews served them with hot fruit pie, dandelion salad and bowls of fresh milk. Gonff sang around a mouthful of hot pie,