“What others can you do, sir?” Posy wanted to know.

“Oh, a fox, a squirrel, a hedgehog like you, even—you name it. Haha, otters are pretty hard to do, though. Funny tails, you see.”

“Could you be a bird?” Spike inquired.

“Well, er, let’s say I’m practicing that one, shall we?”

“A stoat or a rat, then?” Posy persisted.

“No trouble. They’re the easiest to do. It’s all a question of studying shape, really.”

Abbess Germaine was impressed. “You say you could look like a stoat, weasel or even a fox?”

The Mask winked. “Indeed I can, marm. That’s why I’m here.”

* * *

Early evening shadows were beginning to lengthen across the plain. Dinny looked to the mountains on the horizon, and judged the distance shrewdly.

“We’m be vurry close to yon mountings on t’morrer, Marthen.”

The warrior mouse glanced toward the massed rock. “So we will, Din. As to how we’ll cross them, I’m at a loss. Look at the size of them. They almost disappear into the sky.”

“Don’t you worry, mateys,” Gonff said confidently. “We haven’t come this far to be beaten by an old stone hill. Besides, we don’t have to worry about those vermin following us. The swans probably dealt with them.”

Dinny’s snout rose into the air. “Oi’m a-smellen’ more watter thru ’ee paws agin.”

“What, more water, Din?” Martin asked.

“Burr aye. Runnen watter thiz toim.”

“Best keep our eyes skinned for swans, eh, mateys,” Gonff warned.

“Hoo arr, doant wanna see skwons no more.”

* * *

Gonff was first to find the broad stream. It was not quite wide enough to be classed as a river. The mousethief strode down the bank and recited aloud to the flowing waters,

O’er golden acres far below,
Our wings beat strong and true,
Where deep and wet, see flowing yet,
Another snake of blue.

Martin looked to the opposite bank. “It seems peaceful enough, but it’s far too wide to cross here. We’ll camp here tonight and scout the bank for an easier crossing in the morning.”

The mild spring evening was very pleasant by the water. Dinny scooped out a circle while Martin set flint to the steel of his broken sword and started a small fire. Gonff repaired his fishing line. Within a short time he landed a plump young bream.

The three travelers sat around the fire, watching the fish grilling in a cradle of green reeds over the flames. Firelight flickered and danced in Dinny’s buttonlike eyes.

“Warmff, hurr hurr. Oi do likes warmff.”

Gonff tested the fish with his knifepoint. “It’ll be ready soon, mateys. A little loaf apiece toasted up, some cress from the water’s edge, a beaker of fresh streamwater, and we’re snug for the night.”

The stream gurgled and eddied ceaselessly toward the distant mountains as they enjoyed a spell of rest on its soft mossy bank.

* * *

Splitnose and Blacktooth had wandered aimlessly. Without Scratch to direct them they were lost. Night found the pair out upon the open plain, hungry, tired and thirsty. Splitnose lay down, snuggling sleepily against the grass. Blacktooth was restless.