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'Oh, I don't think it's for eating,' said Nanny. 'It's more for sort of - '
' - keeping you going,' said Granny. 'They say that - '
She stopped.
Above the noise of the river and the occasional drip of water from the ceiling they could all hear, now, the steady slosh-slosh of another craft heading towards them.
'Someone's following us!' hissed Magrat.
Two pale glows appeared at the edge of the lamplight. Eventually they turned out to be the eyes of a small grey creature, vaguely froglike, paddling towards them on a log.
It reached the boat. Long clammy fingers grabbed the side, and a lugubrious face rose level with Nanny Ogg's.
' 'ullo,' it said. 'It'sss my birthday.'
All three of them stared at it for a while. Then Granny Weatherwax picked up an oar and hit it firmly over the head. There was a splash, and a distant cursing.
'Horrible little bugger,' said Granny, as they rowed on. 'Looked like a troublemaker to me.'
'Yeah,' said Nanny Ogg. 'It's the slimy ones you have to watch out for.'
'I wonder what he wanted?' said Magrat.
After half an hour the boat drifted out through a cave mouth and into a narrow gorge between cliffs. Ice glistened on the walls, and there were drifts of snow on some of the outcrops.
Nanny Ogg looked around guilelessly, and then fumbled somewhere in the depths of her many skirts and produced a small bottle. There was a glugging noise.
'I bet there's a fine echo here,' she said, after a while.
'Oh no you don't,' said Granny firmly.
'Don't what?'
'Don't sing That Song.'
'Pardon, Esme?'
'I ain't going,' said Granny, 'if you insists on singing That Song.'
'What song would that be?' said Nanny innocently.
'You know the song to whom I am referring,' said Granny icily. 'You always get drunk and let me down and sing it.'
'Can't recall any song like that, Esme,' said Nanny Ogg meekly.
'The one,' said Granny, 'about the rodent that can't -that can't ever be persuaded to care about anything.'
'Oh,' said Nanny, beaming as light dawned, 'you mean The Hedgehog Can Never Be Bugg- '
'That's the one!'
'But it's traditional,' said Nanny. 'Anyway, in foreign parts people won't know what the words mean.'
'They will the way you sings them,' said Granny. 'The way you sings them, creatures what lives on the bottoms of ponds'd know what they mean.'
Magrat looked over the side of the boat. Here and there the ripples were edged with white. The current was running a bit faster, and there were lumps of ice in it.
'It's only a folk song, Esme,' said Nanny Ogg.
