“My fish are gone! Some durak from the village must have come and…”
But molly was not listening. She had run to the very brink of the river.
“It’s not yours!” she shouted. “Give it back!” Woody thought he heard an odd note in the splash of the water, as though it was making a reply. molly stamped her foot. “Now! Catch your own fish!” A deep groan came up from the depths, as of rocks grinding together, and then the basket came flying out of nowhere to hit molly in the chest and knock her backward. Instinctively, she clutched it, and turned a grin on her brother.
“Here they are!” she said. “The greedy old thing just wanted…” But she stopped short at the sight of her brother’s face. Wordless, she held out the basket.
Woody would have liked to make for the village and leave both his basket
