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. Now, one step at a time, do ex-
actly what I tell you...."
Several hours later, at dusk, a kender, who was un-
accustomed to giving precise instructions about any-
thing, had managed to guide seven gully dwarves,
who were unaccustomed to following instructions of
any kind but especially unaccustomed to precise ones,
through the complicated stages of hoisting a sail, rais-
ing an anchor, and launching an eighty-foot-long sail-
ing vessel more or less across the wind.
Gisella and Tas sat on the roof of the cabin, their
backs against the ship's rail. Because the cabin's roof
doubled as the steering deck, Woodrow stood to their
right, manning the starboard sweep. A gully dwarf
named Pluk manned the port sweep under the human's
watchful gaze. Looking like a boy about to stick his
toe in icy water, Woodrow finally opened his mouth.
"I hate to wilt anybody's crops," he began, "but
without a map, how do we know where we're going,
and how do we tell when we get there?"
Tasslehoff popped open one eye. "I've been giving
some thought to that very question."
Gisella groaned.
"There you go again," complained Tas, "criticizing
my ideas before I even utter them. You ought to de-
velop a little more tolerance."
"Oh, let's hear it," Gisella moaned.
"Thank you," said Tas. "It seems to me that we have
a long way to go back to Kendermore, at least five
hundred miles, I would say. The more ground -- or
should that be water? -- whatever -- that we can cover,
the better off we'll be. So I think we should just sail
east, or northeast or southeast, for as long as possible
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