A cry of wonder went up from the shrews crowding the clifftop. Loambudd inspected the head, speculating as Mara washed the fabulous weapon in the lake, “Somebeast stabbed it in the roof of its mouth. The thing must have swum off then and tried to close its jaws. The brain was pierced, because as it forced its mouth shut it drove the sword right up through its head, killing itself. The storm must have washed it up here last night sometime.”

Mara held the sword aloft. It glittered and shone in the sunlight, completely undamaged and sharp as any razor’s edge. “What do you think, Loambudd? It’s too small for a badger, but slightly too large for a shrew to wield. But what a weapon!”

The older badger inspected it. “The beast who carried this must have been a famous warrior. This sword was made by badger skill—I know, I have heard of weapons like this—and nothing can turn or damage the blade.”

Pikkle plucked a hair from his tail and split it across the blade. He gave a whistle of amazement. “Well, chaps, I think we should all be grateful to the warrior who slew this horror. Now the lake is safe to sail on!”

The Guosssom raised a mighty cheer and began preparing for the voyage. Urthwyte scaled the cliff and lowered both boats down to the ledge, then supplies were packed on board the vessels. With light hearts the Guosssom took up their paddles. The boats were riding low in the water because of their extra passengers, but two more badgers added considerably to the paddle power as they shot out across the wide lake.

“From lake to the river and down to the sea,

Paddling, paddling, onward go we.

The sun on the water does shine merrily

As away go the logboats like birds wild and free.

So paddle, my brother, I’ll sit next to you,

A fine handsome creature, a bold Guosssom shrew.

High sky and deep water are both colored blue.

Our boats like our friends are all solid and true.”

*   *   *