Raga Bol and his pirates were walking through the woods. Some of them were hauling along a cannon that they had salvaged from their sinking ship.

Bol grinned wickedly at Wirga. "See, I told ye, the farther west we go, the better the pickin's get. This stump o' mine ain't painin' so much now. Aye, an' the weather's gettin' better too."

In his exultation he danced and sang.

"Avast, belay, yo-ho, heave to,

A-pirating we go,

And if we're parted by a shot

We're sure to meet below!"

He began the verse, but he never finished it, for another sound broke in and stilled him. It was at first such a tiny sound that a leaf might have fallen on it and smothered it, but as it came nearer it was more distinct.

Tick, tick, tick, tick… It sounded like the ticking of a clock.

Raga Bol stood shuddering, one foot in the air. "A crocodile!" he gasped, and bounded up a tree.

It was indeed the crocodile. He had liked the taste of Bol's paw so well that he wanted to eat the rest of him. As he looked up at Bol cowering in the tree, he licked his lips.

"Wirga!" Bol sobbed. "Oh, save me, Wirga, please don't let him get me, Wirga, please, don't let him get me, Wirga, Wirga!"

Wirga waved her paws at the crocodile. "'Ere now, shame on thee, upsettin' the pore captain. There'll be no 'andouts today. Shoo now, shoo, go on, 'op it! Off with thee, I said, go away go away go away, out of 'ere."

The crocodile paid no attention and merely snapped his jaws at Wirga. Wirga narrowly dodged him. Then she remembered the cannon.

"Glimbo!" she called to a rat with only one eye. "Fire the cannon at that monster. Double the powder and shorten the fuse!"

Glimbo scrambled to load the cannon. Then he set it off with a boom. The blast was louder than Wirga had even expected, because Glimbo had misheard her instructions and thought she said, "Shorten the powder and double the fuse."

The cannonball didn't hit the croc, but it scared him off. He slunk away into the woods.

Up in the tree, Raga Bol had covered his face with his paws. "Is he gone, Wirga?"

Wriga nodded. "Aye, Cap'n, all clear, ye can come down now."

Bol climbed down. He noticed the crew looking at him strangely. "Quit starin' at me!" he snapped. "What are ye gawpin' at?"

"It's just… we never seen you so scared before, captain," Glimbo said.

Bol swung his hook at Glimbo, slicing off a tuft of Glimbo's whiskers. "Scared? What are you talking about? I'm never scared. Any rat I 'ears mentionin' that giant croc, I'll make 'im eat his own tongue. Come on, let's get moving, we ain't stayin' in this place. Shift yoreselves!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shoredog had returned to the holt with Garfo Trok. Garfo Trok was a fat, jovial otter. He wore an old iron helmet that resembled a cooking pot, and a permanent smile on his broad, friendly face. He hooted to the other otters in booming tones, "Whoohoohoo, slap me rudder an' curl me whiskers! Lookit ye lot. Wot 'ave youse been feedin' yoreselves on? Y'all look so chub 'n' sparky! Ma Sork, me ole tatercake, are ye still bakin' the primest nutbread in the northeast?"

Joshy stepped forward and shook Garfo's paw. "Pleased to meet you, mate. My name's William David Truman Joshua Stag Hare, Joshy to my friends. I'm a wizard."

"So, you're the beast I'm carryin' as cargo," Garfo said. "Before we sail, let's get some vittles loaded aboard my raft. It's right outside."

"There's no need for that," said Joshy. "I can conjure food whenever we need it. We don't have to waste time packin' any."

"Okay, but I still want to take a few loaves of ole Ma Sork's nutbread," said Garfo. "I'm very partial to nutbread."

Sork handed him two loaves of bread wrapped in paper, and then everybeast went out onto the beach. Garfo's boat was moored there. It had a rickety cabin erected amidships and sported a square, heavily patched sail, which was furled around a much-repaired crosspiece.

All the otters gathered around Joshy to say goodbye. Joshy embraced Abruc warmly and clasped his paw. "Farewell to you an' your family, my good friend. I will never forget you an' your son. You saved my life, cared for me, fed me, an' nursed me. All I can give you in return are my thanks an' undyin' friendship!"

Abruc scuffed the ground with his rudder. "Friendship is the greatest gift one can give to another. You are a goodbeast, Joshy Stag Hare. I know ye would've done the same for me an' mine if'n ye found us lyin' hurt. Go on, mate, you go now, an' know our thoughts are always with ye!"

Stugg handed Joshy a starfish. "Here, I want ya ta have dis."

"Um… thanks?" Joshy said, unsure what to do with it.

"That's how us otters show our love for each other," Stugg's mother Marinu explained. "It is common practice to exchange starfish as daily greetings. Starfish are offered to the other to show friendliness and affection."

Joshy smiled. "Okay, thanks, Stugg. I'll keep this in a safe place." He slipped it into his breast pocket.

Joshy and Garfo stepped aboard the boat. As the boat sped south along the coast, Joshy recited a stanza of his favorite poem, "Out There Somewhere" by Henry Herbert Knibbs.

" The tide-hounds race far up the shore — the hunt is on! The breakers roar,

(Her spars are tipped with gold and o'er her deck the spray is flung);

The buoys that rollick in the bay, they nod the way, they nod the way!

The hunt is up! I am the prey! The hunter's bow is strung! "