“Oof!” Pikkle attempted to bite into one and came away nursing his mouth. “Nearly bust all me molars. What’re these things made of—stone? I’ll bet even old Tubbyguts couldn’t get his jaws around one of these things. I say, Mara, try bitin’ one of these. Go on!”

The badger maid pushed away the proffered hardtack biscuit. “Not me. I value my teeth—save ’em to sling at the ghost badger.”

Pikkle shuddered and dropped the biscuit. It landed with a clatter in the bottom of the boat. “Oh, thanks a lot, big-mouthed badger. First I can’t eat these bally biscuits and now you’ve gone an’ put me off sleepin’ for the night with your talk of ghosts. Bit of a bad show all round, I’d say, robbin’ a chap of appetite an’ sleep!”

Mara fell asleep to the sounds of Pikkle chuntering away indignantly to himself.

*   *   *

She woke in the early dawn light. The logboats were traveling rapidly downstream, bumping and speeding over small rapids as the Guosssom shrew steerbeasts maneuvered them skillfully along the risky waterway. The high steep banks on both sides flashed by. Now and then Nordo would call out for everybeast to duck an overhanging tree. Pikkle was wide awake and ashen-faced as he gripped the sides of the boat, pleading for a reduced speed.

“I say, chaps. Be good eggs an’ tell the jolly old Cap’n to slow down a bit, will you? Whoooo! All this uppin’ an’ downin’, speedin’ an’ bumpin’—I feel quite queasy.”

The shrews who were fending the banks off with their paddles made the most of Pikkle’s discomfort by ribbing him aloud.

“Try some cold custard and cabbage for breakfast, mate. Haha!”

“Or some warm oatmeal mixed with black treacle an’ carrots!”

“How about a stale vegetable pastie with sour cream over it!”

Pikkle lay in the bottom of the boat, clasping his stomach. “Mercy, chaps! Shut up, you shameful shrews. Take pity on a feller, please! Cold custard ’n’ cabbage. . . . Bloouurrpp!”

“Hold tight, all paws! It’s the lake!”

Mara clasped the sides tightly as the stream took a sharp downward curve. The boats shot forward on a wild helter-skelter ride. Bows forward, they plunged down. Suddenly an immense splash and a great bow wave drenched everybeast, then the two longboats rocked gently on the broad surface of a great lake.

“Never again!” Pikkle wailed piteously. “All this for a bletherin’ Blackstone. You chaps must be off your bally rockers. Blackstone, my aunt’s whiskers! Once this hare gets his paws on dry ground he’s finished boatin’ for good!”