After all, they could not
spend months, or even years, getting across continents and seas.
The answer was ingenious. Three days after they had stepped through the
barrier of time at the outpost, Ross and Ashe balanced on the rounded
back of a whale. It was a whale which would deceive anyone who did not
test its hide with a harpoon, and whalers with harpoons large enough to
trouble such a monster were yet well in the future.
Ashe slid a dugout into the water, and Ross climbed into that unsteady
craft, holding it against the side of the disguised sub until his
partner joined him. The day, misty and drizzling, made the shore they
aimed for a half-seen line across the water. With a shiver born of more
than cold, Ross dipped his paddle and helped Ashe send their crude boat
toward that half-hidden strip of land.
There was no real dawn; the sky lightened somewhat, but the drizzle
continued. Green patches showed among the winter-denuded trees back from
the beach, but the countryside facing them gave an impression of untamed
wilderness.
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