eneath him, though he
remembered distinctly that it had been straight past the first
side-branch, and then had gone to the left. Or had he passed the first
side-branch in the dark without seeing it? He probed the darkness
cautiously with one hand.

At the same instant, a brisk, staccato gust of wind came whirling up out
of the night across the ridge. Instinctively, Honath shifted his weight
to take up the flexing of the ground beneath him.

He realized his error instantly and tried to arrest the complex set of
motions, but a habit-pattern so deeply ingrained could not be frustrated
completely. Overwhelmed with vertigo, Honath grappled at the empty air
with hands, feet and tail and went toppling.

An instant later, with a familiar noise and an equally familiar cold
shock that seemed to reach throughout his body, he was sitting in the
midst of--

Water. Icy water. Water that rushed by him improbably with a menacing,
monkeylike chattering, but water all the same.

It was all he could do to repress a hoot of hysteria. He hunkered down
into the stream and soaked himself. Things nibbled delicately at his
calves as he bathed, but he had no reason to fear fish, small species of
which often showed up in the tanks of the bromelaids. After lowering his
muzzle to the rushing, invisible surface and drinking his fill, he
dunked himself completely and then clambered out onto the banks,
carefully neglecting to shake himself.

Getting back to the ledge was much less difficult. "Mathild?" he called
in a hoarse whisper. "Mathild, we've got water."

"Come in here quick then. Alaskon's worse. I'm afraid, Honath."

Dripping, Honath felt his way into the cave. "I don't have any
container. I just got myself wet--you'll have to sit him up and let him
lick my fur."

"I'm not sure he can."

But Alaskon could, feebly, but sufficiently. Even the coldness of the
water--a totally new experience for a man who had never drunk anything
but the soup-warm contents of the bromelaids--seemed to help him. He lay
back at last, and said in a weak but otherwise normal voice: "So the
stream was water after all."

"Yes," Honath said. "And there are fish in it, too."

"Don't talk," Mathild said. "Rest, Alaskon."

"I'm resting. Honath, if we stick to the course of the stream.... Where
was I? Oh. We can follow the stream through the Range, now that we know
it's water. How did you find that out?"

"I lost my balance and fell into it."

Alaskon chu