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. Many
ships pass this area. You should not have long to wait."
Tasslehoff was about to protest when the minotaur
cook came forward hefting a large, lidless barrel.
'You don't mean for us to float around in that," Wood-
row said, shaking his head in disbelief and backing away.
The minotaur's hairy lip curled up. "It is waterproof.
We can provide you with paddles, if that would assist
you."
"Look at it as an adventure," Tas said to Woodrow, his
eyes sparkling eagerly. "This might be fun. I've never
been set adrift in a barrel."
"An adventure? Haven't you had enough of adventure
for a while?" Woodrow asked impatiently.
"How can you have enough adventure?" asked Tas as
Goar lifted him effortlessly. The cook rolled the barrel
over the gunwale and Goar deposited Tas,' and then
Woodrow, into the pitching, bobbing tub.
Tasslehoff splashed merrily in the lapping water as the
minotaurs pulled rapidly away. Before long, they were
once again just a speck on the horizon. Woodrow
slumped down to the bottom of the barrel.
While Woodrow sulked, Tas experimented with the
barrel's balance and buoyancy. He rocked from side to
side, jumped up and down, and made the barrel spin in
slow circles by paddling with one hand.
Occasionally Tas took a break from his research to
scan the horizon for sails. After hours of seeing nothing,
he suddenly began jumping up and down in the barrel
with a purpose, tossing it from side to side and franti-
cally waving his arms above his head. Soon he was
shouting at the top of his lungs, "We're over here! This
way! Are you blind or stupid? We're over here!"
Woodrow leaped to his feet and squinted across the
water
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