Most peculiar! thought Cugel, as he replaced the amulet on Nisbet's chain. "The only difference between the two pairs of boots was the dressing of ossip wax — from berries gathered in the garden of Makke the Maugifer.

To ransack the clutter of generations in search of a pot of boot-dressing was not a task to be undertaken lightly. Cugel went off to his own couch.

In the morning Cugel told Nisbet: "We have been working hard, and it is time for a little holiday. I suggest that we stroll over to yonder bluff and there survey the gardens of Makke the Maugifer. We can also pick ossip berries for boot-dressing, and — who knows? — we might come upon another amulet."

"A sound idea," said Nisbet. "Today I too lack zest for work."

The two set off across the plain toward the bluff: a distance of a mile. Cugel towed a sack containing their needs which Nisbet had touched with his amulet and kicked, in order to negate the weight.

By an easy route they climbed the bluff and approached Makke's garden.

"Nothing is left," said Nisbet sadly. "Save only the ossip tree, which seems to flourish despite neglect. That heap of rubble is all that remains of Makke's manse, which was built five-sided like the amulet."

Cugel approached the heap of stones, and thought to notice a wisp of vapor rising through the cracks. He went close and dropping to his knees moved several of the stones. To his ears came the sound of a voice, and then another, engaged in what seemed an excited dialogue. So faint and elusive were the voices that words could not be distinguished and Nisbet, when Cugel summoned him to the crevice, could hear no sounds whatever.

Cugel drew back from the mound. To move the rocks might yield magical treasures, or, more likely, some unimaginable woe. Nisbet was of a like mind and the two moved somewhat back from the ruined manse. Sitting on a slab of mouldering stone, they ate a lunch of bread, cheese, spiced sausage and onions, washed down with pots of village-brewed beer.

A few yards away the ossip tree extended heavy branches from a gnarled silver-gray trunk five feet in diameter. Silver-green berries hung in clusters from the end of every twig, each berry a waxy sphere half an inch in diameter.

After Cugel and Nisbet had finished their lunch, they plucked berries sufficient to fill four sacks, which Nisbet caused to float in the air. Trailing their harvest behind them, the two returned to the quarry.

Nisbet brought out a great cauldron and set water to boiling, then added berries. Presently a scum formed on the surface. "There is the wax," said Nisbet, and skimmed it off into a basin. Four times the process was repeated, until all the berries had been boiled and the basin was filled with wax.

"We have done a good days work," announced Nisbet. "I see no reason why we should not dine accordingly. There are a pair of excellent fillets in the larder, provided by Dame Fetish who is butcher to the town. If you will kindly lay a fire I will look through the closet for appropriate wine."