The northernmost reach of the Enchanted Forest was the one area the Hermit had admonished Tat to avoid. Though not really wishing to disobey the Hermit, Tat found himself going further and further in that direction every time he went out to collect herbs with his faithful dog, Duke, at his side. Besides, Tat had no way of knowing exactly where the northernmost reach of the Forest began. The day came when Tat had gone so far that he heard the roar of rushing water in the distance. This sound destroyed any restraint on Tat's curiosity. With his basket, filled with herbs, hanging over the arm with his rabbit's paw, Tat moved in the direction of the sound. Duke was running in all directions making his own explorations with his nose.

On his way to the rapids, Tat made careful note of the trees and other landmarks so as not to lose his way. These trees in the area did not give Tat the welcome he was accustomed to. They seemed to be turned in on themselves, brooding on their secret thoughts. The wind picked up as if it were trying to drive him back. But it had been too long since Tat had last had an adventure and he was not about to heed the wind's warning.

A squirrel suddenly darted out in front of Tat and Duke. The dog ran after it until Tat whistled him back. Duke halted and trotted back, looking very much like a dunce. Tat gave him a good-natured pat on the head.

"You're a good dog," Tat assured him. "You can chase squirrels later, after I've found out what is just ahead."

Duke barked his acquiescence and followed his friend. In the year that he had lived in the Enchanted Forest with Tat, Duke had learned a new way of living. Animals who knew they were on the point of death presented themselves to Duke for him to feed him on them. Chasing animals was for sport only.

Duke ran ahead of Tat, then ran back with his tongue hanging out of his mouth and a confused look in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" asked Tat.

He received no answer of course, but he slowed down his pace enough keep himself from falling over the sheer cliff hidden by a large bush in front of him. Down below, a mass of white water coursed around the jutting rocks. The brooks and streams Tat had known were nothing compared to this river. The relentless flow of water plunged over the fall into the depths below. The power of the broad river seemed boundless. Above the whirlpool at the bottom of the falls, there was a faint rainbow. The waterfall was thundering out a summons. Tat knew he had to obey. He could almost see a face in his mind, but the image faded before it had completely formed.

Duke nudged Tat to suggest that it was time to return home.

"Not yet, Duke," Tat said without even looking at him.

Tat surveyed the scene with a critical eye. Finding a way down to the base of the waterfall would not be easy. At his feet, the drop was straight down with nothing for a hold or support. Tat walked along the cliff's edge up to the waterfall while Duke followed reluctantly. There, almost on top of the falls, the cliff sloped just enough to make the climb down appear possible. With no further thought, Tat gingerly stepped down to a protruding rock. His foot held. He took another step, somehow managing to hang on with his hand and paw. It was then that he realized that his basket of herbs was still dangling from his arm. At that point it would have been more awkward to leave it behind than carry it with him. Duke barked angrily from above and then withdrew to pass the time in a sulky sleep while he waited.

Fighting the urge to look down and see how impossible the journey might be, Tat continued to inch his way down. His rabbit's paw proved useful as it was able to dig into the earth and give him a better grip. As he slid further down, he thought he heard a soft voice in his ear. Perhaps it was the roar of water playing tricks on him.

At last, Tat gained support from solid rock under his feet. When he tried to shimmy down a little further, he found himself in the same place. The spray of cold water chilled him. Only then did Tat look to see where he was. The crushing weight of water was coming down all around him, obscured by the mist. The foamy water swirled angrily around the jutting rocks.

But Tat was not satisfied with his explorations thus far. There was just enough of a rocky path at the base of the cliff for him to walk right up to the waterfall itself. He followed it as it continued around beneath the falls. Tat quickened his steps, slipped on the wet rock and caught himself with his rabbit's paw. The basket of herbs fell off his arm and disappeared in the rapids. Soaked as his paw was, Tat took no time to think about it, but he proceeded more cautiously. The thunder reverberated all around him. It seemed impossible that he could walk through the roaring weight and not be crushed. But he did, and underneath the waterfall, there was a cave.

Here was a new home all for himself, Tat thought. For who could live in such a cave? What an exciting place to spend a few days all by himself! Tat sat on a flat, if moist, rock and soaked in the thunder of the waterfall and the water spraying him with random shots. No question about it, this was a wonderful place to meditate. Tat even saw shapes of human being and animals in the flowing water from time to time, just as he saw similar shapes in the Hermit's fire back at the cabin. The face of an attractive girl began to appear in the water. With one flickering appearance, the phantom girl seemed to beckon Tat. In another flickering appearance, the same girl seemed to be laughing at him. Then a shadow surrounded the girl, suggesting to Tat that she was in trouble of some sort. Tat spent a long time thinking calm thoughts to the girl, the way the Hermit taught him to when they saw somebody like that in the fire. While in the midst of these thought, three flames flickered in the waterfall. Tat thought it could have been his eyes playing tricks on him, but he was quite sure that the faces of three boys, filled with flames, had appeared to him. This fleeting vision strengthened Tat and convinced him it was time he rose to his feet and explored the cave.

The darkness inside covered Tat like a blanket. He stopped and closed his eyes and then opened them again to accustom himself to the dark. He still could not see the ceiling above him. As an experiment, he slapped his knee. The sound reverberated through the cave until the darkness swallowed it. He listened, half expecting an answer, but there was no response. The cave was so quiet it made Tat wonder if something was waiting for him. There was only one way to find out. With hand and paw pressed against the damp wall, Tat moved deeper into the cave. The sound of the waterfall became distant. The entrance grew smaller. Ahead, Tat began to see a light so faint it seemed to belong to the darkness.

The clammy wall abruptly turned a corner to the right. Before looking, Tat listened. At first all he could hear was his heartbeat. Then he heard something else: the sound of someone snoring. Slowly Tat poked his head around the corner just enough to see what was there. Around the bend, the cave was much lower. A sickly orange fire flickered at the end. Over the fire, there hung a black bubbling cauldron taller than Tat himself. The brew smelled like a pile of dead mice. Other human articles lay in all directions. A broom, several cooking utensils, and blankets lay randomly about. Interspersed with the utensils were skulls and other bones. Since there were no signs of human activity just then, Tat slid around the corner to explore.

When Tat was about even with the cauldron, he heard the gentle sound of snoring once again. He looked in that direction and saw that under one pile of blankets there was a human figure. A stream of fine dark hair flowed over the head. The face, what little Tat could see, was more beautiful than anything Tat had seen before. Although Tat had seen similar people pictured in books the Hermit showed him, and Tat saw them in the fire as well, it had been many years since Tat had last been in the presence of a human like this one, back before he was even brought to the Enchanted Forest. But then again, Tat had seen the face just a moment ago. This was the face Tat had seen in the waterfall. It was an older girl or a young woman that Tat was looking at. He stood where he was for a long time, waiting for this person to awake. When she continued with her soft snoring, Tat quietly continued his explorations.

Among the debris on the floor, a thick book lay opened. The book was so old and worn that it looked as if it would disintegrate if Tat so much as touched it. Although Tat had been taught how to read from the books the Hermit mysteriously pulled out of his cabinet, he doubted if he could have made sense out of this book if he had learned all of the languages of the three kingdoms. The letters on the open page twisted in his mind and caused him to see visions much in the way in the Hermit's fire did. In his first vision, Tat saw a tree strike an enemy with a branch upon a witch's command. The second vision was worse. A thin gray shadow closed in on the Rainbow Bird and snuffed out the glow of its colors. Tat tried to look away from the book, but a third vision held him. He saw three fair children, their faces shining like the dawn, being lured into the cave. These were the faced that flamed and flickered in the waterfall. The boys approached the bubbling cauldron. Horror seized the boys' faces as, one by one, a figure emerged out of the cave's darkness and threw them into the pot. Then Tat saw yet another boy enter the cave. It was himself. The boy was trying to turn his face from a book he was looking at, but he couldn't.

"What a lovely rabbit's paw," said a feminine voice.

Freed from the book's spell, Tat looked around. There was the girl sitting on her crumpled blankets. She stared at the boy with a cold curiosity mixed with a confused desire. Her cheeks were pale, but the movement in her eyes made her face vibrant. Only a bruise over one eye marred the perfection of her looks. Her mouth curved into a smile both malicious and loving. Tat looked at his paw and then again at the girl. He forgot the cauldron and the skulls on the floor.

"I'm glad you like it," Tat stammered.

"I'm glad you're glad I like it," the girl answered. "I don't know how much more time you have remaining to be glad of anything, I'm sorry to say. You see, rabbit's paws are rather tasty."

"Oh?"

Tat searched the girl's face for signs that she was teasing him. He could not find any, but neither could he believe her words in spite of what he had just seen in this third vision.

"What are you doing here anyway, invading my home just as you please?" the girl asked Tat.

"I'm standing here, looking at you," Tat replied.

Another smile started to appear, then it faded.

"Hmpf! You almost made me laugh. I don't remember coming so close to laughing in a long time."

"You mean you live here all alone with nobody to cheer you up?" asked Tat.

"I don't live alone, but yes, I live here without having anybody to cheer me up. My aunt is not very cheery, as you will find out in the short time remaining for you to find out anything. However, she takes care of me. She is preparing me for a livelihood that will sustain me if ever she should die--fat chance--and she keeps me fed."

"With the foul stuff cooking in this pot?" asked Tat.

"Of course. It's not so bad once you get used to it. When we get the chance to supply it with fresh meat, like we did last week, it smells much better."

"You go hunting, then?" asked Tat. "And you kill animals?"

"You could say that. The spells in my aunt's book do it for us. The spells seem to have found you, for instance."

"The way it found those--three boys?" Tat's voice faltered.

The girl's jaw dropped.

"You mean the book showed you that?"

Tat nodded. "You don't mean-"

"I'm afraid I do mean. And perhaps I am mean as well. But we have to eat."

"There are other things to eat, you know. "

"I suppose so. Bats for instance. But they aren't tasty. On the other hand, I don't doubt that you will taste very good."

"Not if I'm cooked in that pot, I wouldn't. Nothing cooked in that could taste good."

"Ha. Hmmm. You are amusing. More amusing than most children are when they get so close to our pot. Usually, they just cry. But those three boys we had in here last week! They were so beautiful! I would like to have gotten to know them. Now, I never will."

Tat began to think that he would be wise to forsake the girl and run out of the cave while the going was good. At the same time, he had never known how much fun it could be to have a conversation with a clever girl and he was reluctant to end it. Moreover, Tat could not shrug off the vision he had of this girl that seemed to suggest that he was supposed to save her.

"How can you live like this?" Tat asked, his face pale.

"The necessity of life. I hope you understand that we don't hold personal grudges, not even for saying what you are saying to me. I can see already that I'll miss you."

"You can miss eating me instead."

"Hmm. I suppose I could. But if I starve to death, I'll still miss you. I suppose you wouldn't miss me if I starved to death."

"I won't let you starve to death."

"I knew you wouldn't," said the girl with a mock-devilish look on her face.

"I didn't mean it that way."

"Just as I thought! You care only for yourself, just like everybody else!"

The girl closed her mouth decisively to show that she was not about to speak to Tat anymore.

"I am not like everybody else," Tat insisted. "What makes you think everybody is mean and selfish?"

The girl did not move a muscle. Again, Tat asked himself if he should make a run for it. Much as he wanted to escape being boiled in that foul cauldron, Tat thought he would be haunted by this girl if he left her to her aunt who was, apparently, rather wicked.

"Don't you even want to get to know me before you eat me up?" Tat asked her.

"Of course not. It's hard to eat people you know."

"I'm Tat."

"So?"

"That's my name. I live with the Hermit of the Enchanted Forest."

"So?"

"Who are you?"

The girl still held her back to Tat.

"Why should I tell you?"

"It would be polite. I told you who I am, and who I live with. So why not tell me who you are and who your aunt is?"

"I'd rather you didn't know that my name is Marilla, and I'd rather you didn't know that my aunt is the Water-Witch."

"I see. Is she nice to you?"

"Nice enough, on the whole."

"Except when she's busy giving you black eyes?"

"I don't have any black eyes," Marilla insisted.

"You don't have any mirrors in here, then," said Tat. "You should see yourself!"

"Thanks for the compliment! How do you get a black eye, anyway?"

"It's a bruise. You get a bruise when somebody hits you, hard."

"I see."

Marilla's voice choked a little.

"So, why don't you run away from your aunt?"

"I can't. She'd find me out and I would find out what it's like to end up in the same pot where you are going to find yourself. I wouldn't like that."

"The Hermit and I could protect you."

"Why?"

"Because that's the way he is. He doesn't give me any black eyes either. And he doesn't eat children for another!"

"Good for him."

"Why not try being good yourself?"

"My aunt thinks I'm doing very well--except for last week."

"Now you don't really want to eat a boy like me, do you?"

Marilla gave Tat a cold stare.

"Since I'm starving, yes, I would rather eat you than keep on starving." Marilla paused when Tat gave her a hard look. "Starving isn't any fun, you know. You should try it if you think it is fun."

"If you and your aunt ate three boys just last week," said Tat, "then you shouldn't be starving too much."

Marilla's face fell. For a few seconds, Tat thought she was going to weep. Then Marilla pulled herself together and put on a defiant face before Tat.

"Actually, something went wrong last week," said Marilla in a subdued voice. "Which is to say, I haven't had much to eat in three weeks."

"That makes sense," said Tat.

"What do you mean?" asked Marilla.

"I had a vision of those three boys in that pot of yours myself," said Tat. "Now only that, I saw them in the waterfall outside this cave."

"What waterfall?"

Tat could hardly believe his ears.

"You haven't seen it? There's a ton of water flowing over a cliff right above where you live."

"Sounds awful. And what do you mean you saw those three boys?"

Noting Marilla's anxiety, Tat decided to capitalize on it.

"I mean what I said. I saw the faces of the three boys--twice. Their faces are aflame with the light of the Virtuous Dead."

"What's that?"

"I suppose your aunt wouldn't know about them. The eyes of the virtuous dead blaze with the fire of life. Or so the Hermit tells me. No wonder they escaped you even in death. They would be too good to end up as food for the likes of you."

"You're right," said Marilla in a subdued voice. "They got away. You see, after she three those boys into the pot, Auntie made me stir the broth while she was out. I got to thinking how much I would have liked making friends with the boys if they were still alive. That's a stupid thing to think about when you have to eat. Auntie says we can't make friends with people who come our way. Anyway, I was stirring and then--I saw those faces in there. The broth started to smell nice and sweet. There was such a beautiful fire in their eyes I wanted to reach in and touch them. But I couldn't. I stirred. Then there was a bright light--and then they were gone. The pot got back to smelling as badly as it usually does, or even worse. You should have seen Auntie when she got back. She bounced off one wall after another like a bat as she screamed her head off. Then she smacked me in the eye."

"So, your aunt smacks you in the eye if anything goes wrong with the cooking, and she keeps you cooped up in this dark cave."

"She does not keep me cooped up in here."

"You mean you can go out to see the beautiful waterfall you've never seen and the even more beautiful forest any time you want to?"

"My aunt says that outside of this cave there's this awful light that burns you up and that this cave protects me from all that."

"I hate to say this," said Tat, "but your aunt is lying to you. You just don't know what you're missing by staying in here all the time with the bats and that pot of yours. You should see all the trees and the acorns that fall off them--acorns are good to eat by the way--and there are bushes with berries of all different colors, much tastier than that stew. There are fish and many other creatures in the water that give themselves to us to feed us. So you don't have to kill children to eat! There are squirrels and rabbits and deer birds in the trees all over the place. So why stay here with this Water-Witch?"

"Is it really that pretty?" asked Marilla. "You make it sound that way."

"Oh, it is, I assure you that it is," Tat replied.

"You're just making things up because you're trying to escape the stew pot with the help of any lies you can think of. And I'm not that cooped up in here. Why, this cave is so large and so deep I still haven't explored all of it. So I have plenty of rivers as it is."

"It really is beautiful out there, out in the sun" Tat insisted. "You should come and look. If you did, you'd know how gruesome it is in here. Your aunt is lying to you because she is mean and selfish and wants you to live a miserable life for her benefit."

The girl folded her arms and turned away from Tat.

"I won't listen to another word against my aunt."

"Okay, she is the most beautiful and most kind and the wisest woman in the world who wants everybody to be as happy as she is."

"You don't mean it."

"You're starting to look as ugly as a witch yourself. I mean that."

"My aunt tells me I am getting to look more and more like her every day and she's as ugly as the stew in that pot."

"If you leave this cave with me and get out into the sun and see the Enchanted Forest," said Tat, "You'll look as beautiful as your aunt must be ugly."

For a second, Marilla appeared to be flattered. Then her face hardened.

"Can you prove I should not eat you?"

"Why--it's wrong. It's---"

Marilla's cold stare brought Tat's words to a halt.

"Thought so. Just because you don't like the idea of being a nice meal for a nice girl like me, I'm not supposed to like it either. Well, I can like anything I want to!"

Tat desperately tried to think of a reply, then held his tongue when he began to hear a distant sound of footsteps coming their way. They sounded footsteps of a large animal with webbed feet.

"Is that your beautiful and kind and wise aunt?" Tat whispered.

"Yes, it's been nice talking to you."

"You don't want to talk to me again?"

"Not enough to starve to death."

"You wouldn't like it if somebody put you a stewpot just because they were hungry," said Tat desperately.

The steps grew louder. The girl looked about indecisively.

"I wish I knew," said the girl. "All right, you rabbit-pawed fool. Hide behind that rock back here and don't move a muscle."

Not needing to be told a second time, Tat dove behind the rock. No sooner was he settled, then he heard the Water-Witch's strident voice rattling off the walls and ceilings of the cave.

"I'm back again, Marilla Dear! Back again as I always am. I do hope you have been tending the pot to make it ready for our next guest."

"Of course I have, Auntie. When have I ever failed you?"

"Last week, you water-logged bat!"

"But that was different. This time I have the stew at just the right muddy texture, gruesome as ever."

"How do you know it's gruesome? You've never said anything like that before."

"Doesn't gruesome mean beautiful?"

"I suppose it does, depending on your point of view. I'll have a taste of this stew for myself." Tat heard a stupendous slurp followed by a loud smacking of lips. "It's just right, dearie. But then it was just right when you lost those three boys for me you blind cave rat."

"Did anything interesting happen while you were out?"

"Since when do you want to know what's out there under that cruel ball of fire that burns everything up and makes the world blacker than the walls of this cave? You don't know how I suffer by making these trips to lure our meals to this cave for your benefit. As a matter of fact, to show you how evil the world out there is and what I'm protecting you from, I'll let you know that a monstrous animal with rows of flashing sharp teeth jumped right in front of me."

Tat stiffened, wondering if he had betrayed his dog for the sake of his explorations. If so, he would deserve his fate at the hands of the Water-Witch.

"Did it attack you and bite you?" asked Marilla.

"Don't sound so eager, Dearie. Of course it wanted to do just that and it might have killed me if I had let it, but of course I didn't."

"Oh Auntie, don't tell me it's possible you could be killed some day."

"Then I won't say it."

"You mean you're going tolive forever?"

"Something like that. We witches live a very long time."

"Unless something awful happens, like getting attacked by a monster?"

"Such awful things do not happen to witches like me who are very powerful and--I might add--to the most cunning of creatures, such as you might be some day if you don't let tasty boys get away from you ever again! But just to prove my point, I'll have you know that this most uncivil monster has been turned into stone you dear old aunt herself."

A sharp groan escaped from Tat's throat before he caught himself.

"Did I hear something, Marilla dear?" asked the Water-Witch.

"I suppose you did. After all, the pot is bubbling. And bats are flying about.

"I mean, did I hear something I don't usually hear in this cave? That wasn't the noise of someone who doesn't belong here except at our invitation, was it?"

"Oh, I suppose some small animal could have sneaked in while I was sleeping."

"Ah-hah! Sleeping when you should have been stirring, you monster who might as well be turned into stone for all the good you do me. Well, that would explain the paw prints I saw on the cliff outside our cave. They looked like paw prints of a rabbit. But I saw just one paw to it."

"Maybe that's all it had. Maybe it was a one-pawed rabbit," suggested Marilla. "And isn't a rabbit's paw good luck?"

"Who told you that?"

"You did, sometime last week. You must be getting forgetful in your old age, Auntie."

"I'll have you know that as witches go, I am most young and I have a very long memory."

"Of course you have."

During the ensuing silence, Tat could hear a sniffing sound almost as loud as a horse's snort.

"Marilla dear, I think I do smell something in here."

"I should think so. The pot's been boiling for ever so long."

"It's something else I smell. And most of it isn't rabbit, either, although I detect just a little bit of rabbit mixed in. I smell something tender and juicy which, when cooked, should be most delicious. Most of what I smell, smells like a tender young boy. Did a tender young boy happen along while I was out?"

Tat held his breath.

"That--depends on what you mean by a tender young boy," Marilla answered. "A boy has two hands, doesn't he? So if he doesn't have two hands, he isn't quite a boy."

"I think you are getting confused Marilla dear and if you don't get unconfused very soon, you'll have me confused as well."

"To make it simple: is a rabbit with one boy's hand and a boy's head and a boy's legs and a boy's trunk still a rabbit?"

"What about the heart, Marilla? Is it a rabbit's heart?"

"I don't know."

"But you know something, even if you don't know one heart from another. Now I would hate to think that you could be plotting to keep this tender morsel for yourself. After all, I'm at least as hungry as you are. And, come to think of it, I think I have the matter all figured out. I think that you are hiding a tender young boy who is a little bit of a rabbit. The boy has a rabbit's paw in the place of one hand. That explains the paw prints and handprints and footprints very nicely."

"How ever could a boy have a rabbit's paw?"

"What a silly question. There are ways of turning anything into anything else if you know the words and have the right talent for it. If you're not careful, you'll find out what I can turn one of your hands into. Must I box your ears and scald your nose before you tell me where you are hiding my dinner?"

"But--what if I don't have any dinner to hide?"

"Surely you didn't eat him already?"

"I haven't had anything to eat in over a week, same as you."

"Glad to hear it. Now let me tell you something else. There really does happen to be a boy living in this Forest who has a rabbit's paw, courtesy of a nasty relative of mine. He and a most cruel wizard have taken over the entire Forest for themselves and nobody else can live there for long."

"So there is a Forest out there?"

"Of course there is. And if this boy should be out of the way, not only would we have a meal to tide us over a few days, but we would be that much closer to having the Forest for ourselves."

"You said it's so awful out there."

"I just said that to protect you from the evil sorcerer, but now I know how to take care of him, once we have taken care of the boy. It's their fault you've had to live in this dreary cave all your life and live on the poor diet I've been able to furnish you. So where is he?"

"He's in my heart."

"Come, you're more confused about hearts than ever. Tell me where he is if you don't want your own heart torn out of your body."

"Why, he's behind that rock over there, of course."

Before the shock could register, A pair of slimy arms wrapped themselves around Tat's body and lifted him from behind the rock. In another second, he was standing in front of the cauldron, his head still spinning. The almost formless hag rubbed her fingers with glee. Waves of colorless hair filled with sand flowed in all directions around a face that resembled a predatory fish. When she smiled at Tat, she showed her long, sharp, teeth. A gown of muddy seaweed stuck to her body.

"Marilla!" Tat yelled.

Marilla promptly ducked her head behind the cauldron.

"The Hermit is not a sorcerer, he's just the Hermit!" Tat yelled. "We don't own the Forest. The Forest owns itself."

There was no response from the other side of the cauldron. The witch chuckled to herself.

"Marilla! You betrayed me!"

"You lied to me!" Marilla replied.

Marilla said nothing more. There was no movement from behind the cauldron. The Water-Witch smiled with satisfaction and tightened her grip on Tat. With a deft movement, Tat tried to slip out of the witch's slimy fingers, but her grip crushed him so hard, he got nowhere.

"Now I have you, as you can see" said the Water-Witch. "So come, my sweet boy, sweet to the taste I mean, and come closer to the pot and to the fire where we can get you nice and warm. I'm so sorry you can't enjoy this meal as much as Marilla and I will, but we can't all enjoy everything in life, can we?"

"I wouldn't want to enjoy the same things you do!"

The Water-Witch opened her mouth in a cavernous smile.

"So fear doesn't take away your clever tongue, my little rabbit-handed morsel. You don't have to be so concerned with jumping into the pot. It won't hurt you for any longer than I can snap my fingers, and I snap my fingers very fast. After that, you won't even feel bad about not being included in our feast--except in a special way which, unfortunately, does not give you the capacity to enjoy it."

"I wouldn't feel bad about being left out altogether."

"Oh my darling little perch just ready for sizzling and boiling. Never have I been so entertained by my supper."

A stifled laugh escaped from Marilla.

"Marilla!" cried Tat. "Would you really rather not laugh again?"

There was no response.

"Marilla," said the witch. "Come round now and help me put our chubby minnow in the pot."

"I'm not chubby," Tat protested. "If that's what you want, why not fatten me up first?"

"We can't wait that long, we're so hungry already. Marilla!"

"I'm not hungry," Marilla replied in an even voice.

"Nonsense. Now come round right this minute or I shall have to do it myself, which will make me exceedingly angry. If I become exceedingly angry I will be forced to do certain things to you which you would rather did not happen to you. Besides, lucky thing, you may have to be the Water-Witch some day so we can't let you starve to death."

"Why does there have to be a Water-Witch?" Tat asked.

"How can the world get on without one? No come on, Marilla. If this boy with the furry paw goes the way of the three boys from last week, we shall be in the worst of straits."

There was a long sigh from behind the cauldron. Finally, Marilla appeared, her eyes glued to the floor. No amount of fury or entreaty in Tat's eyes could make her look up.

"Auntie?"

"Yes, Dearie."

"This boy was trying to lure me away and boil me in the pot in his cave, wasn't he?"

"That is most perceptive of you, Marilla," said the witch. "Of course that is what would have happened to you. Why else would he have come to our cave in the first place?"

"Can't you see I'm not like you?" Tat yelled.

Marilla came round to the other side of Tat and grabbed his right arm.

"No, I don't see that," said Marilla, still looking away. "Let's get this over with."

"Oh, it's been so nice anticipating this meal," said the witch, "but we can't look forward to things forever, or we won't ever consume what we're looking forward to and then we'd go hungry the rest of our lives. Up to the rim with him!"

With a concerted pair of jerks, Marilla and the Water-Witch raised Tat and settled him on the lip of the cauldron. The foul smell of the boiling mass filled Tat's nostrils. Even then, he could not believe it possible for his life to end, even though the three boys who appeared to him had died in the cauldron. The three boys! They would save him yet!

"I see them! I see them!" Tat cried.

"See what, you precocious perch?" asked the Water-Witch impatiently.

In fact, as he said those words, Tat did see a sudden sparkle in the muddy brew that was like a star shining from another world.

"The three boys, of course!" Tat answered. "They're back!"

"Is it true?" asked Marilla, torn by eagerness and fear.

"Look for yourself," Tat replied.

"Three faces in the stew?" questioned the Witch. "Soon there will be four. I hope you keep each other company."

"If you are as good as you think you are," said Marilla, "then you must want to join the virtuous dead who are coming to welcome you."

Marilla's words felt like a stone dropping in the pit of his stomach. Much as he wanted to be worthy of joining the Virtuous Dead, he was far from sure that he was.

"I see that you aren't so sure that you're virtuous enough to join them, my little oyster-about-to-be-boiled," the Water-Witch taunted Tat. "One little push and you won't have to worry about anything ever again."

For a horrifying second, Tat was pushed in one direction and pulled in the other with the result that he was left teetering on the lip of the cauldron. Again, the three faces burst into flame in the midst of the pot. Both pairs of hands suddenly let go of Tat, followed by a loud smack and a cry from Marilla.

"Let that teach you to delay the cooking of our supper, you catfish-in-the-mud-brain!" yelled the Water-Witch.

"Auntie! Save me!" cried Marilla as she struggled to get herself away from the pot that seemed to hold her to it. "They're after me! I can't stand it! I can't look away! They are shaking their fists at me!"

"No they're not!" cried Tat who saw the faces appear yet again. "I see three lovely faces! They are crying, but they are laughing. Their faces are full of pain, but they smile with joy. They are joyful flames. They are here, but beyond your grasp."

Marilla strained to see what was inside the cauldron.

"They are phantom flames," Marilla stammered. "They are without life, yet they live. They're haunting me!"

"Can't you see their love?" asked Tat.

The Water-Witch stuck her nose into the pot and scowled.

"I can't see our happy-go-sorrowful minnows boiling in this stew. The boys are gone, I tell you. The two of you are making this up."

"I have a better view from up here," said Tat.

"Maybe your eyes are getting weak, Auntie," Marilla suggested.

"My eyes are perfectly sharp."

"Then why can't you see them and make them go away?" Marilla retorted.

"Are you doubting my power?" asked the witch.

"No," Marilla replied, "that's why I'm asking you to use it!"

"Very well, I shall settle this once and for all," said the Witch. "Hang on tight to our tender rabbit-fish, Dearie."

Marilla squeezed Tat's arm so tightly that she almost crushed his bones, but then, just as quickly, she let go of him altogether. The Water-Witch hoisted herself up to the rim where she tottered uncertainly as she peered into the brew. Suddenly, her face turned yellow and her back arched as if she were a frightened cat.

"How could my precious pearls come back?" screeched the Water-Witch.

"Then you can't stop them!" Marilla charged.

"Get away!" cried the witch, "Don't burn me in your fire!"

Marilla screamed when the three flickering boys rose above the cauldron. The whole cave shook and the cauldron broke apart, spilling the broth over the floor of the cave.

"Now I've got you, my perch-in-the broth!" cried the Water-Witch as she grabbed a hold of one of the boys. "At last I'll have the meal I've needed for a--AAAHH! Let go of me!"

"Let go of me!" Marilla echoed as she, too, struggled against the hold of one of the flaming boys.

Tat found himself in the grip of a boy who was holding him up above the boiling torrent of stew that had been spilled. Seeing that Marilla was going to fall into the liquid if she freed herself from the boy holding her, Tat put an arm around her to hold her up.

"Don't shake us off if you want to live," Tat admonished her.

As Tat spoke those words, a deafening screech from the Water-Witch was drowned out by the bubbling liquid as she sank into the stream. The flaming boy who tried to save her could only hover above helplessly, then fly over to help his companions support Tat and Marilla.

The rumbling in the cave returned and the cave began to shake once more. Tat pulled Marilla under him to protect her from the rockslide. The light of the three boys surrounded them to shield them from the rocks tumbling all round them. Then they carried Tat and Marilla out to the cave mouth where the waterfall proclaimed itself like a trumpet. Marilla screamed.

"She was right! It'll kill me out there!"

"No, it won't Marilla," Tat assured her. "Just follow me."

The boys carried the two of them out of the cave and off to the side where Marilla could see the waterfall for herself and then catch her first glimpse of the Enchanted Forest.

"Are you going to take me away and eat me?" Marilla asked while she looked at the strange scenery in bewilderment.

"Did you ever think I really would?" Tat returned.

"Well--yes."

"Then you're dumber than a fish in a kettle."

"How am I to know?"

"You could try believing me instead of telling that witch of an aunt of yours!"

"I didn't know what I was doing or what end was up!" Marilla sobbed. "You don't know what it's like to grow up in a cave with a witch like that who's teaching you how to be as wicked and old and ugly as she is!"

Tat felt himself burning as the three boys looked at him with less than full approval. He hung his head.

"All right. I don't know what your life was like. How would you like to live with the Hermit and me and find out what my life is like?"

"Do you mean that?"

"I haven't lied to you."

"Didn't think you could forgive me."

"I'm sorry," said Tat. "I'm not being very kind to you."

"You're sorry?"

"Yes. Now try and relax and look around you."

Now that she was feeling a bit calmer, Marilla tried to look at the Forest, but she became so disoriented she hid her face in her hands.

"Nothing makes sense to me!" cried Marilla.

"Let's take things one at a time," said Tat. "Open your eyes slowly----Okay....Follow my finger and look at this tree right here. Does that help?"

"It's--a--start," Marilla stammered.

Out of nowhere, Duke appeared and jumped all over Tat. As he looked about, Tat could see that the earthquake had made the cliff less steep, making it easy for the dog to climb down. Marilla looked at the animal doubtfully, but when Duke smelled her, and then licked her hand, she began to feel at ease with him.

"This is the awful monster you're aunt was talking about," Tat explained. "Of course, he wouldn't be friendly with a wicked witch. I'm sure glad her spell stopped working, if she had even cast it in the first place."

"I'm so glad you aren't stone any more," Marilla said to Duke as she instinctively rubbed behind his ears. "Where are those boys?"

"They're gone."

"Already?"

"Well, sort of."

"They aren't really dead, are they?"

"Yes and no. The Hermit says that for the virtuous, their death is their life. They live brightly in death's world. They can come back once in a while and do things like save us from a witch or keep falling rocks away from us, but we can never get together with them and be friends."

"I wish we could."

"Are you ready to come with me now to the Hermit's cabin?" Tat asked her.

Marilla's face clouded.

"Uh--no, I'm not actually. Please don't get me wrong. I don't want to be a Water-Witch anymore, but I think I should live here anyway. I think this river needs a better person living by it. I think I need some time to get used to seeing the world out here under the sun. Maybe later I'll be ready to come visit you."

"Can I come visit you?"

"Of course you can. And I promise I won't try to cook you for dinner."

"How kind of you!"