"An observation of amazing erudition."
Mike lashed a long flat piece of driftwood to the raft as a steering oar, found two other such pieces to serve as unattached oars, and helped Nicko finish with loading the supplies. "All right," he said. "Let's go."
They cast loose and while Doree worked with the stern oar, Mike and Nicko paddled feverishly toward the middle of the river. With this objective achieved, Nicko took over the stern. Mike forced Doree to lie down. He put a pillow under her head, kissed her and sat beside her until her eyes closed. Then he went back and sat down beside Nicko.
The latter had not forgotten his terrifying grin. "We certainly get around, don't we?" he said cheerfully.
"I'm glad it makes you so happy."
"As a matter of fact I'm scared stiff. It is just that my sainted mother told me always to keep a brave front."
Mike looked at his assistant with sudden fondness. "Who was your mother, Nicko?"
Nicko shook his dragon's head sadly. "I can't seem to remember but I know I had one. And of course she was saintly."
"And your father?"