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included the low lustrous domes of the demon temples and the dark outline of
Huruska standing on the dock. From afar the screams of Phampoun were still to
be heard and occasionally the thud of toppling masonry.
2 THE BAGFUL OF DREAMS
THE RIVER ISK, departing Lumarth, wandered in wide curves across the Plain
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of Red Flowers, bearing generally south. For six halcyon days Cugel sailed his
skiff down the brimming river, stopping by night at one or another of the
river-
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bank inns.
On the seventh day the river swung to the west, and passed by erratic sweeps
and reaches through that land of rock spires and forested hillocks known as
the Chaim Purpure. The wind blew, if at all, in unpredictable gusts, and
Cugel, dropping the sail, was content to drift with the current, guiding the
craft with an occasional stroke of the oars.
The villages of the plain were left behind; the region was uninhabited. In
view of the crumbled tombs along the shore, the groves of cypress and yew, the
quiet conversations to be overheard by night, Cugel was pleased to be afloat
rather than afoot, and drifted out of the Chaim Purpure with great relief.
At the village Troon, the river emptied into the Tsombol Marsh, and Cugel sold
the skiff for ten terces. To repair his fortunes he took employment with the
town butcher, performing the more distasteful tasks attendant upon the trade.
However, the pay was adequate and Cugel steeled himself to his undignified
duties. He worked to such good effect that he was called upon to prepare the
feast served at an important religious festival.
Through oversight, or stress of circumstance, Cugel used two sacred beasts in
the preparation of his special ragout. Halfway through the banquet the mistake
was discovered and once again Cugel left town under a cloud.
After hiding all night behind the abattoir to evade the hysterical mobs, Cugel
set off at best speed across the Tsombol Marsh.
The road went by an indirect route, swinging around bogs and stagnant ponds,
veering to follow the bed of an ancient highway, in effect doubling the length
of the journey. A wind from the north blew the sky clear of all obscurity, so
that the landscape showed in remarkable clarity. Cugel took no pleasure in the
view, especially when, looking ahead, he spied a far pelgrane cruising down
the wind.
As the afternoon advanced the wind abated, leaving an unnatural stillness
across the marsh. From behind tussocks water-wefkins called out to Cugel,
using the sweet voices of unhappy maidens: "Cugel, oh Cugel! Why do you travel
in haste? Come to my bower and comb my beautiful hair!"
And: "Cugel, oh Cugel! Where do you go? Take me with you, to share your joyous
adventures!"
And: "Cugel, beloved Cugel! The day is dying; the year is at an end! Come
visit me behind the tussock, and we will console each other without
constraint!"
Cugel only walked the faster, anxious to discover shelter for the night.
As the sun trembled at the edge of Tsombol Marsh Cugel came upon a small inn,
secluded under five dire oaks. He gratefully took lodging for the night, and
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the innkeeper served a fair supper of stewed herbs, spitted reed-birds, seed-
cake and thick burdock beer.
As Cugel ate, the innkeeper stood by with hands on hips. "I see by your
conduct that you are a gentleman of high place; still you hop across Tsombol
Marsh on foot like a bumpkin. I am puzzled by the incongruity."
"It is easily explained," said Cugel. "I consider myself the single honest man
in a world of rogues and blackguards, present company excepted. In these
conditions it is hard to accumulate wealth."
The innkeeper pulled at his chin, and turned away. When he came to serve
Cugel a dessert of currant cake, he paused long enough to say: "Your
difficulties have aroused my sympathy. Tonight I will reflect on the matter."
The innkeeper was as good as his word. In the morning, after Cugel had
finished his breakfast, the innkeeper took him into the stable-yard and
displayed a large dun-colored beast with powerful hind legs and a tufted tail,
already bridled and saddled for riding.
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