He went as far as the bend, beyond which another short reach appeared. A man was sitting on a narrow shelf of bank, with his feet in the water. He was clothed in a coarse, rough hide, which left his limbs bare. He was short, thick, and sturdy, with short legs and a long, powerful arms, terminating in hands of an extraordinary size. He was oldish. His face was plain, slablike, and expressionless; it was full of wrinkles, and walnut-coloured. Both face and head were bald, and his skin was tough and leathery. He seemed to be some sort of peasant, or fisherman; there was no trace in his face of thought for others, or delicacy of feeling. He possessed three eyes, of different colors—jade-green, blue, and ulfire. In front of him, riding on the water, moored to the bank, was an elementary raft, consisting of the branches of trees, clumsily corded together. Maskull addressed him. “Are you another of the wise men of the Wombflash Forest?” The man answered him in a gruff, husky voice, looking up as he did so. “I’m a fisherman. I know nothing about wisdom.” “What name do you go by?” “Polecrab. What’s yours?” “Maskull. If you’re a fisherman, you ought to have fish. I’m famishing.” Polecrab grunted, and paused a minute before answering. “There’s fish enough. My dinner is cooking in the sands now. It’s easy enough to get you some more.” Maskull found this a pleasant speech. “But how long will it take?” he asked. The man slid the palms of his hands together, producing a shrill, screeching noise. He lifted his feet from the water, and clambered onto the bank. In a minute or two a curious little beast came crawling up to his feet, turning its face and eyes up affectionately, like a dog. It was about two feet long, and somewhat resembled a small seal, but had six legs, ending in strong claws. “Arg, go fish!” said Polecrab hoarsely. The animal immediately tumbled off the bank into the water. It swam gracefully to the middle of the creek and made a pivotal dive beneath the surface, where it remained a great while. “Simple fishing,” remarked Maskull. “But what’s the raft for?” “To go to sea with. The best fish are out at sea. These are eatable.” “That arg seems a highly intelligent creature.” Polecrab grunted again. “I’ve trained close on a hundred of them. The bigheads learn best, but they’re slow swimmers. The narrowheads swim like eels, but can’t be taught. Now I’ve started interbreeding them—he’s one of them.” “Do you live here alone?” “No, I’ve got a wife and three boys. My wife’s sleeping somewhere, but where the lads are, Shaping knows.” Maskull began to feel very much at home with this unsophisticated being. “The raft’s all crazy,” he remarked, staring at it. “If you go far out in that, you’ve got more pluck than I have.” “I’ve been to Matterplay on it,” said Polecrab.