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. Slowly, the wagon rocked forward,
then back, then forward again, and finally began rolling
after the straining team. The horses picked up more
speed as the wagon moved into shallower water and the
water inside it drained out.
'Whoa," said Woodrow, placing a hand on each of the
horses' muzzles. The wagon stood on the beach, water
still running out through the door and around the floor-
boards.
"Hooray." shouted Gisella, clapping her hands. "We'll
be on our way in no time."
"I don't think so, Miss Hornslager." Woodrow stepped
from behind the wagon, shaking his head. "Both rear
wheels are damaged, and the rear axle is cracked really
bad. This wagon won't go more than a mile or two with-
out falling apart."
"Well, can't we fix it?" Gisella waved her arms vaguely
at the wagon. "People fix wagons all the time, right? I
mean, everything looks fine to me."
Woodrow nodded his head. "Yes, ma'am, we could fixit...
"
"Then let's get at it."
"... if we had the right tools, ma'am. Like a forge,
and a sledge, and an anvil. And maybe some jacks and
woodworking tools. But we can't repair it with nothing
to work with."
"Oh."
Gisella let her arms drop to her sides as she looked
sadly at the wagon. Then slapping her hips, she said,
"That's that, then. Let's salvage what we can and get
moving. I still have one cargo left, and it still has to be in
Kendermore by the Harvest Faire." She threw a glance at
Tasslehoff. "I hope it intends to continue cooperating."
The day was more than half over when Gisella finally
called for a short rest
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