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. "Come on, Woodrow, Burrfoot."
But Fondu would not be put off. "Wagon no float, but boat
float!"
"What are you trying to tell us, Fondu?" Woodrow asked.
The gully dwarf scowled at Woodrow. "I tell pretty lady. Your
hair weird -- look like noodles." Fondu grabbed Gisella's hand again
and tugged her to the ledge. He pointed down. "See? Boat."
Gisella brushed off her hand disdainfully. "Well, I'll be!" she
exclaimed, looking over the edge quickly. "The little bug-eater -- uh,
gully dwarf -- is telling the truth! There is a boat down there."
"Let me see!" cried Tas, moving to Gisella's side, along with
Woodrow. "But why would anyone leave a boat anchored here?"
"I don't know," answered Gisella, "and I don't know what
difference it makes, anyway. Everything I own is in that wagon, and
I'm not going to leave it here," she finished firmly.
Fondu tugged at Gisella's wrap. "Take wagon on boat."
"Woodrow," said Gisella, "would you please try to explain that
we can't possibly get this fully loaded wagon down a sheer, five
hundred-foot --"
"Oh, it's got to be at least eight hundred feet -- at least,"
chimed Tas, on his stomach, looking over the cliff.
"-- six hundred-foot cliff and onto a rocking boat," finished
Gisella. "You're making me terribly nervous, dear," she added,
addressing the human.
Woodrow, who had crawled out on a cyprus limb overhanging the
ledge, cleared his throat. "Excuse me for saying so, Miss Hornslager,
but I'd bet that whoever --"
"-- whoever owns that boat made the pulley job!" Tas finished
for him
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