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.

The arg reappeared and started swimming to shore, but this time clumsily, as if it were bearing a heavy weight under the surface.  When it landed at its master’s feet, they saw that each set of claws was clutching a fish—­six in all.  Polecrab took them from it.  He proceeded to cut off the heads and tails with a sharp-edged stone which he picked up; these he threw to the arg, which devoured them without any fuss.

Polecrab beckoned to Maskull to follow him and, carrying the fish, walked toward the open shore, by the same way that he had come.  When they reached the sands, he sliced the fish, removed the entrails, and digging a shallow hole in a patch of violet sand, placed the remainder of the carcasses in it, and covered them over again.  Then he dug up his own dinner.  Maskull’s nostrils quivered at the savoury smell, but he was not yet to dine.