'Meat is extremely bad for the digestive system,' said Magrat. 'If you could see inside your colon you'd be horrified.'
'I think I would,' muttered Hwel.
'Did you know that an adult male carries up to five pounds of undigested red meat in his intestines at all times?' said Magrat, whose informative lectures on nutrition had been known to cause whole families to hide in the cellar until she went away. 'Whereas pine kernels and sunflower seeds—'
'There aren't any rivers around that you need helping over, are there?' said Tomjon desperately.
'Don't be silly,' said Magrat. 'I'm just a humble wood gatherer, lawks, collecting a few sticks and mayhap directing lost travellers on the road to Lancre.'
'Ah,' said Hwel, 'I thought we'd get to that.'
'You fork left up ahead and turn right at the big stone with the crack in it, you can't miss it,' said Magrat.
'Fine,' growled Hwel. 'Well, we won't keep you. I'm sure you've got a lot of wood to collect and so forth.'
He whistled the mules into a plod again, grumbling to himself.
When, an hour later, the track ran out among a landscape of house-sized boulders, Hwel laid down the reins carefully and folded his arms. Tomjon stared at him.
'What do you think you're doing?' he said.
'Waiting,' said the dwarf grimly.
'It'll be getting dark soon.'
'We won't be here long,' said Hwel.
Eventually Nanny Ogg gave up and came out from behind her rock.
'It's salt pork, understand?' said Hwel sharply. 'Take it or leave it, okay? Now – which way's Lancre?'
'Keep on, left at the ravine, then you pick up the track that leads to a bridge, you can't miss it,' said Nanny promptly.
Hwel grabbed the reins. 'You forgot about the lawks.'
'Bugger. Sorry. Lawks.'
'And you're a humble old wood gatherer, I expect,' Hwel went on.
'Spot on, lad,' said Nanny cheerfully. 'Just about to make a start, as a matter of fact.'
Tomjon nudged the dwarf.
'You forgot about the river,' he said. Hwel glared at him.
'Oh yes,' he muttered, 'and can you wait here while we go and find a river.'
'To help you across,' said Tomjon carefully.
Nanny Ogg gave him a bright smile. 'There's a perfectly good bridge,' she said. 'But I wouldn't say no to a lift. Move over.'
To Hwel's irritation Nanny Ogg hitched up her skirts and scrambled on to the board, inserting herself between Tomjon and the dwarf and then twisting like an oyster knife until she occupied half the seat.
'You mentioned salt pork,' she said. 'There wouldn't be any mustard, would there?'
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