is arms were cold and numb。 He felt as though he had no more strength left to paddle； but managed to push himself a few last strokes； until a large； splashing shape…Sludig？…waded out from the rocky verge and pulled him into shore。 He was lifted from the boat and half…carried up the bank； then surrounded by an army of torchlit； laughing faces。 They seemed familiar； but the sensation of dream was upon him again。 It was not until he saw the smallest figure that he remembered where he was。 He staggered forward and swept Binabik into his arms； crying unashamedly。
〃Simon…friend！〃 Binabik chortled； thumping him on the back with his small hands。 〃Qinkipa is good！ Joyful！ This is joyful！ In the days since I was ing here I had almost lost my hope to see you。〃
Simon wept； unable to speak。 At last； when he had cried himself dry； he set the little man down。 〃Binabik；〃 he said； voice raw。 〃Oh； Binabik。 I have seen terrible things。〃
〃Not now； Simon； not now。〃 The troll took his hand firmly。 〃e。 e up to the hilltop。 Fires have been built there and I am sure there is something cooking。 e。〃
The little man led him。 The crowd of familiar strangers fell in behind； talking and laughing among themselves。 The flames of the torches hissed beneath a soft fall of snow； and sparks rose into the sky to drift and fade。 Soon one of them began to sing； a good； homely sound。 As darkness crept over the drowned valley； the sweet； clear voice rose through the trees and echoed out over the black water。