ravines and steep canyons of these hills, keeping to them-
selves. Don’t much care for normal folk such as us. But
thee art human, and it is said that they take human form.
Perhaps thee will have better luck than most. Seek the
places where the water runs deep and clear and the rocks
are colored so dark they are almost black, where the moss
grows thick above the creeks and…”
” ‘Ere now, grandpa.” Mudge spoke from his rocky seat
out in the stream. “This ‘ere moss, it don’t ‘ave^no mental
problems now, do it?”
The chipmunk frowned at him. “How could mere moss
have mental problems?”
Mudge relaxed. Their near-disastrous experience in the
Muddletup Moors was still fresh in his mind. “Never mind.”
The chipmunk gave him an odd look, turned back to
Jon-Tom. “Those are the places where thee might encoun-
ter the fairy folk. If thee must seek them out.”
“It seems we’ve no choice.” Rising, Jon-Tom turned to
inspect the tree-fringed hillside.
The elderly chipmunk resumed his walk. “I wish thee
luck, then. I wish thee luck. Thee will need it to locate the
enchanted ones, and thee will need it even more if thee
do.”
The ridge above gave way to a heavily wooded slope on
the far side that grew progressively steeper. Soon they
were fighting to maintain their balance as they slipped and
slid down the dangerous grade.
At least, Jon-Tom and Roseroar were. With their inher-
ent agility and lower centers of gravity, Jalwar and Mudge
had no difficulty at all with the awkward descent, and
Folly proved lithe as a gibbon.
A stream ran along the bottom of the narrow gorge. It