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A real shrewish voice rang out. Furmo's wife Honeysuckle bustled up, waving a ladle. She was bigger than him and had a temper that none could match on land or water. "Goin'? Goin' where, may I ask?"

Even though he was a chieftain, Furmo wilted under her fierce eye and sharp tone. "Er, just down the stream apiece, my fragrant woodrose."

Gonff interrupted, standing between both shrews. "Ah Honeysuckle, you delightful morsel, we've asked your husband to accompany us with some of his shrews, to show us the way and guard us against attack. But of course he says he can't possibly leave yore side on such a foolish errand. Not that I blame Furmo. Anybeast leavin' a dark-eyed beauty like you to go off sailin', huh, he'd be out of his mind, mad as a frog an' daft as a bluebottle!"

Lips pursed grimly, Honeysuckle waggled the ladle under Furmo's nose and spoke threateningly. "An' you, y'great lazy lump, you said you wouldn't go, eh?"

"But petal, 'ow can I leave you an' all the liddle 'uns?"

Furmo winced. His wife had hoisted him upright by one ear. "In the boat, Log a Lazypaws, this instant. You Guosim there, wot are you standin' grinnin' about, eh? Now get those logboats ready t'sail, now, while I'm still in a good mood. Shift yore mossbound behinds!"

Four logboats were lashed to the raft's sides, each with six Guosim paddlers. Honeysuckle tossed supplies aboard with furious strength and energy. Gonff murmured under his breath as Dinny dodged a sack of vegetables, "Matey, I'd hate t'see 'er in a bad mood if this is one of 'er good moods!"

Honeysuckle scowled at him. "What was that you said?"

The clever Mousethief gestured at the provisions. "I was just sayin', marm, after so much bad food 'tis nice to see some good food!"

She pointed a warning paw at the pair. "Don't let me hear of you two wastin' any!"

Dinny tugged his snout respectfully. "Hurr, 'ow cudd us'n's be a-wastin' vittles loaded aboard boi such ee furr paw as yourn, moi gurt booty?"

Honeysuckle dipped the mole a deep curtsy, actually smiling. "Why thankee, sir mole, wot a gallant thing t'say!"

Halfway downstream between the camp and the next bend, Log a Log sighed with relief and shook Dinny warmly by the paw.

"You clinched it, Din, all that fair paw an' great beauty stuff. Where'd you learn it?"

The mole twitched his nose at Trimp. "Burr, oi diddent lurn nuthin', zurr, h'oim jus' a reg'lar silver-tongued molerogue, bain't oi, miz Trimp?"

The hedgehog maid twitched her nose back at him. "Aye, especially when it comes to lappin' up oat-meal'n'honey you are. Great fat fraud!"

Furmo did a perfect imitation of his wife's voice. "One more remark like that, young 'og, an' I'll rap yore ears with my pudden spoon. That mole's a real gentlebeast!"

Meandering happily down the broad waterway through the sun and shade, the travelers and their shrew friends jested and chuckled with each other.

A watermeadow appeared on their left about midday. The Guosim had ceased paddling because the current was carrying them along with sufficient speed. All aboard both raft and logboats sat admiring the serene beauty as Log a Log pointed out its features.

"Looks peaceful, don't it? But mark my words, mates, midst all that brookweed, water lilies, crowfoot an' gipsy-wort, there're more skeeters than y'could shake a stick at. Mayfly, caddisfly, stonefly, alderfly, pond skaters, big lacewings an' o' course the ole Emperor dragonflies. Makes it a rare ole fishin' spotfish all come there to hunt the flies."

Gonff winked craftily at the shrew. "Aye, an' Guosim go there to hunt the fish, I'll wager."

A sturdy old shrew elder snorted at the Mousethief's remark. "Yore jokin', of course. There's eels an' pike in there longer'n a logboat. 'Tis them'd be huntin' us if'n shrews was fool enough to try fishin' that watermeadow!"

Log a Log pointed downstream. "Look, there's dragon-flies comin' up this way. They ain't tarryin', either. Wonder wot's upset 'em?"

A half dozen of the huge insects came straight at the raft, suddenly veering off into the watermeadow, their iridescent wingbacks and black-green banded bodies making a brave sight. Log a Log addressed Martin. "Somethin's upset the dragons. We'd best be on our guard, 'specially when we round that bend ahead there's a creek to one side of it. Stay on the alert, Guosim!"

Trimp sat in the center of the raft, holding onto Chugger. Half the shrews took to paddling the logboats lashed to the raftsides, the rest joined Martin, Log a Log, Dinny and Gonff, who stood for'ard on the raft, weapons close to paw. As they rounded the bend, it became only too clear what danger they were in.

Like some fantastic snowstorm, a male swan came billowing out of the creek entrance. The sight of it took Trimp's breath away. Spreading awesome wings, the colossal bird reared out of the water, its long neck bent, hissing loudly like a serpent. Log a Log roared at the paddlers, "Back water! Back water, Guosim!"

Furiously the shrews backpaddled against the current, but the raft's stern hit the bank on the bend's incurve and lodged there. The elder shrew seized a long paddle and bravely swung it at the swan, sizing up the situation for his companions as he did so.

"He's a mute swan. ProbTy the female's guardin' 'er young up that creek, an' this feller thinks we're goin' to 'urt 'em. Looks fairly mad t'me. Ain't goin' to let us pass or retreat. This is his stretch o' water, an' he'll protect his family an' this area with his life, mates!"

Though they were in great danger, Martin could not help admiring the giant bird. With its tough orange beak, which had a hard black lump at its base, and its neck thick as a rowan sapling, the mute male swan was a fiercely wondrous sight, snow white, with wings powerful enough to cripple and kill an adversary. The Warrior picked up a paddle to fend it off, knowing that he had not the heart to kill or injure such a magnificent creature with his sword. However, the swan had no such finer feelings, but came at them hissing and making a peculiarly strange squeak, far out of character given his bulk and ferocity. Gonff swung his paddle.

A gigantic wing descended on him, snapping the paddle like a twig and buffeting him from the raft into the water. Martin's paddle clacked hard against the bird's beak, sending a jarring pain through his paws, and the swan came at him. Dinny caught it a hefty blow in the neck, which merely seemed to bend gracefully under the impact. Two shrews were swept off into the water by another clout from the swan's wing. It reared high and gripped the raft timbers in its wide webbed claws, trying to hoist itself aboard. Trimp and Chugger slid backward, yelling, as the raft began tilting with the swan's weight pressing on its front end. Martin grabbed his sword and held it up quickly, so that the swan's beak hit it with a loud echoing sound. Pang!

Nobeast was expecting what happened next. Something hit the swan's head like a stone, sending a cloud of small white feathers into the air. There was an ear-splitting screech from above. It was Krar Woodwatcher! The courageous goshawk came in for another dive, even though it must have been dizzy from the first blow. The swan swung its beak and retaliated. There was a thudding noise as both birds struck one another simultaneously. Krar landed in a heap on the raft. Savagely shaking off Dinny, who was trying to help it recover, the goshawk struggled upright, panting, "Use thy raftpoles and get thee off downstream. Hasten now, while I hold off yonder battler!"

Krar launched himself into the attack once more. Feathers flew amid the hissing and screeching, stream-water was thrashed into foam, leaves and branches showered wide. Punting the raft out from the bank, while shrews either side paddled madly, they skimmed out under the arch formed by the swan's neck and Krar's wings, into the midstream current and off down the waterway. Still paddling and poling with great vigor, they turned their heads to see what the outcome would be. Krar Woodwatcher was as brave and hard a fighter as the swan, but not so foolish. The moment he saw every-beast was out of danger he zoomed off into the woodlands to nurse his bruises, leaving behind a bewildered and still angry mute swan. Trimp could not stop herself from trembling as she called out, "He's coming after us, the swan's coming after us!"