It was late in the day, and Algy was some distance from home and feeling very tired. Another wave of bad weather was sweeping in from the north-east, and the clouds had already begun to slither down the mountain tops. Soon it would be raining again. That arctic wind felt bitterly cold, too, so Algy found himself a thick clump of reeds, and settled down on the leeward side, keeping very low to the ground. He leaned back closely against the rushes, and dozed in the fading light, dreaming of a land where it might rain just a wee bit less often perhaps, and where it might even be possible to perch on any side of a tree, or bush, or clump of reeds, without ill effect…

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