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cavern. They deserved peace too. Then the river swept Furgul around a bend, and he saw Dogsnout Mountain no more.
    The river carried Furgul for miles and miles. He paddled and paddled to keep his head above the water. He tried to get to the bank but the current was too strong. Bit by bit he usedup the energy and strength he had gained from the fish. First he became tired. Then he became exhausted. His head felt too heavy to hold above the waves. His forelegs and hind legs could hardly move at all. He started to think how nice it would be just to go to sleep and sink under. His eyes began to droop, and he felt all dreamy.
    Yes, he would let the river cradle him to sleep, just for a while.
    Something stung him in the scruff of his neck, and he woke up. He thought it was a hornet or a wasp. But then something started to pull him, and the stinging got worse. He tried to raise his hind leg to scratch it with his claws, but he was too weak. The pulling got even stronger. It yanked him in violent tugs toward the riverbank. The more he tried to swim away, the harder he was jerked and tugged.
    Furgul turned toward the bank. A man stood there in high rubber boots, holding a long, thin, bendy pole in his hands. From the end of the pole a thin, shiny wire stretched all the way to Furgul’s neck. The man cranked the handle of a little machine on the pole, and the more he cranked the more the wire pulled. Was he a friend of Dedbone who’d been sent out to recapture him? Furgul tried to reach up for the wire and chew it with his teeth, but it was just too high and he was just too tired. Little by little Furgul felt himself reeled in to the shore.
    By the time he got there he was too worn out to fight. The man waded over in his high rubber boots and looked atFurgul with amazement. He pulled a hook out of Furgul’s neck and picked him up by the scruff. He carried him dripping to the shore and laid him down on the sand beside a small heap of dead fish. Furgul stood up, but his legs were as weak as grass and he fell down again. He curled up by the fish, feeling as cold and lifeless as they were, and started to shiver. There was nothing he could do.
    The Fisherman knelt beside him and Furgul waited for something horrible to happen. But the Fisherman looked concerned. His eyes seemed kind. Furgul was confused. He’d never seen a master with kind eyes before. The Fisherman patted him softly on the head.
    “Soothe, soothe, soothe,” said the Fisherman.
    Furgul panted and shivered. He shivered and quivered and chattered so hard he thought his teeth would fall out. The Fisherman saw the wounds from the buckshot in his haunches. He became even more concerned.
    “Mutter, mutter, mutter,” said the Fisherman.
    The Fisherman stood up and disappeared. Furgul closed his eyes and shivered. One moment he felt burning hot, the next freezing cold. The Fisherman returned with a blanket, which he spread out on the ground. He picked Furgul up and put him on the blanket and wrapped him up snug and warm.
    “Murmur, murmur, murmur,” said the Fisherman.
    The Fisherman picked up Furgul in his arms and carried him toward a shiny green truck. It looked quite different from Dedbone’s. The Fisherman put him inside, on a seatthat smelled of leather. It was the softest thing that Furgul had ever laid on. The Fisherman loaded his gear into the back. Then he sat in the front next to Furgul, behind a wheel. He took out a little machine that made beeping sounds when he touched it. He put the machine to his ear and started talking.
    Among all the talking, Furgul heard the human word “vet.”
    Keeva had told Furgul about vets. Sometimes Dedbone took Keeva to the vet, when she was sick or injured. Dedbone had to give the vet money, so he didn’t like going there. He took Keeva because, as his best racer, she was worth it. Sometimes the vet put dogs to sleep with “the needle,” she said. Furgul wondered if the Fisherman was going to put him to sleep. At that