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 chuckled. "Hell's not so bad, is it?" he said. Then he sighed, and rushes creaked under him. "Mathild! What's the matter? Is he--did he die?" "No ... no. He's breathing. He's still sicker than he realizes, that's all.... Honath--if they'd known, up above, how much courage you have--" "I was scared white," Honath said grimly. "I'm still scared."