"Wherefore we will fool the captain of the ship, the Holy Beaver, the Public Mousetrap, and the Real Bear by sending you away to be taught hunting, trapping, and woodcraft with my old friend Lieutenant Tschirikov——"
"The Fatbald!" said Rain. "I'm sure he must be very nice to make up for being so plain."
"So that's why!" cried Storm, delighted.
"—who lives, my son, at the river of the Kutenais, on the green meads at the head of Flatbow Lake."
"Why, that's my lake!" cried Rain.
"Of course," observed the padre: "for this cause was Storm brought from the Land of Barbarian-hereticks who drop their aitches, and carried to the mouth of your river, in order that he may come to your own lake, and meet you on the high snow field overlooking the Apse of Ice."
"The Sun Lodge where I am priestess!" cried Rain, exultant. "Now do I thank thee, Holy Spirit in the Sun, for all Thy mercies!"
When they had all three said their thanks, the padre observed that Julia was outside waiting to conduct them. They really must call on the invalid dragon.
"Who is that?" asked Storm.
"He is a poor dragon who devoured so many virgins that he has grown too stout, his cave is pinching him, and he can't get out."