Mike drew her into the circle of his arm. "Don't be afraid. This is a break—just what we wanted. All rivers go somewhere and this one saves us from fighting our way through the jungle an inch at a time."
"But we have no boat."
"We can make a boat." Nicko said. "The rubber mattresses and cushions from the ship. I'll bet no one on this planet has ever seen such a boat as we'll have."
Mike and Nicko struggled back and forth from the river bank to the ship, bringing what was needed. Doree, fearing to remain alone, trailed with them until she was exhausted, whereupon Mike began building the raft, leaving the rest of the trips to the indestructible Nicko. Mike bound the mattresses and cushions to a base of woven reeds. The reeds grew in abundance in a nearby swamp. Doree helped with the braiding and the work went swiftly.
Nicko made a half dozen more trips and returned from the last one with several scales knocked off his back. "Somebody threw a brick at me," he said.
Mike scanned the now-menacing jungle wall. "A brick?"
"That was what it felt like. It hurt like hell."
"You didn't see anybody?"
"I did not. I didn't wait long enough."
"We've got to get out of here."