Chapter Thirteen

As they rowed downstream in the beaver's boat, the marsh gave way to a vast rolling field that stretched away from the river on either side. The sun overhead floated in the sky like a great orange balloon tied to the horizon by an invisible string. Night-time was still a long way off and even the evening seemed distant. The afternoon was everywhere, and it appeared to be completely uninterested in ever moving on.

"Terminus!" growled the beaver. He turned the boat in towards the river bank and landed it with a jarring thump.

"Is this where the new-moon stones are?" asked Jamie.

"No," said the beaver. "But it's as close as I go. If you wanna go the rest of the way you do it on your own."

Everyone got out of the boat while the muskrat paid the fare from a small money pouch. The beaver seemed quite pleased. He squinted at the coins, jingled them a few times and then smiled a crooked, cedar-stained smile.

"Want me to wait and take you back?" he asked.

The muskrat sniffed. "If you like."

"You bet your briefcase I like," said the beaver. "You pay prices like that and I'll wait all day, no problem!"

The muskrat picked up the briefcase in question, tucked his umbrella under his arm and started off into the field.

"Hey," said Rachael. "He's leaving without us!"

"Ask the pendulum if we should go too," suggested Jamie

Jennifer did. The pendulum nodded yes.

"Come on," said Jennifer and she and the others fell in behind the muskrat and followed him.

The field seemed endless as they walked into it, going on and on in low rolling mounds that seemed to know no boundaries. The grass grew tall and thick on all sides, swaying in ripples and waves as the wind blew through. At times it felt like they were walking out across a vast green ocean instead of a field, their feet miraculously walking on some unseen walk-way just beneath the surface of the water. Some crows were flying across the vast rolling field to the south. Stretched out along the horizon in a long low line, they were heading straight towards the sun.

The muskrat stopped on top of one of the small rolling mounds and carefully sniffed the air.

"This is the place," he said and opened his briefcase.

The children looked about expectantly for signs of the new-moon stones, but all they could see was the vast grass field stretching out eternally in every direction.

"Are you sure?" Jennifer asked the muskrat uncertainly.

"Oh yes," he assured her. "This is definitely it."

"Get serious!" said Rachael. "This place is nowhere!"

"I beg your pardon?" said the muskrat.

'We thought there'd be new-moon stones," said Jamie.

"Oh, there will be, but not here," said the muskrat and he pointed off across the seemingly endless field to the south. "The new-moon stones will appear down there."

"Aren't you going to go get one?" asked Jennifer.

"Certainly not," said the muskrat. "I have work to do."

He reached underneath his briefcase and pulled out three wooden legs which he carefully adjusted so that the briefcase was held securely in place about chest high with the top facing out. Then he reached up and flicked the buttons. The clasps sprang up and the top flipped down to became a tray where paints and brushes were stored. A painting was mounted inside on the bottom of the briefcase so the sides surrounded it like a frame. The painting showed the same green field they were standing in with the same orange sun in the same blue sky. The muskrat surveyed the scene for a moment, then he began to paint in the crows that were flying towards the sun.

"If you want to get a new-moon stone you'd better get going," said the muskrat. "It's almost time for them to appear and they don't stay around for long."

"How long have we got?" asked Jennifer.

"The time of the new-moon begins when the first crow reaches the sun," explained the muskrat. "And it's over when the last of them passes."

"Holy!" said Jamie. "We better get going!"

'Ask the pendulum which way to go! " said Rachael.

Jennifer pointed out across the field toward the sun. The pendulum nodded yes and they all dashed off. The muskrat watched them go. Then slowly and carefully he began to paint them into the scene on his canvas.