Cartoosh scuttled down the path toward the Elder's home, intent on his mission. The Trid had told him to find out what he could about the Sacred Songs, and the arachno-cyborg knew that if anyone held the secret, it was the Elder. The robot halted at a turn in the path, and gazed at the pastoral scene before him. A small brook cascaded down a gentle slope through a meadow filled with wildflowers. The recent rain was rising in gentle mist beneath the Neezian sunlight, and a rainbow painted the sky with unreal color. "Van Gogh might have painted this, or Monet," though Cartoosh, for he had an artistic bent, due to a broken and malfunctioning visual analog circuit. The circuit was meant to analyze visual data for the purposes of determining work or defensive activity, but a blown capacitor in the output module rendered it primarily capable of producing value judgements regarding the basic esthetic properties of what Cartoosh saw. In fact, one of his cherished possessions lost in the explosion of the Space Shagger had been his copy of The History of Western Art, a very ancient Terran tome.

As he stood appreciating the vista before him, he heard voices and footsteps coming up the path. He scuttled sideways into a thick stand of willows, and then saw an unlikely sight: seven midget Terrans with floppy sock-caps and mining implements were trudging up the path singing
Hi Ho, Hi ho
It's off to work we go..

In a clearing, they suddenly came to a stop, and the most disgruntled-looking of them said "OK. This is the spot! Who's got the radio?" The other six began patting their coat pockets and rummaging through their haversacks."Well?" said the frowning dwarf,"I thought I gave it to you Happy." The one called Happy skipped up to the leader, saying,"you did! You did! But I found it's heaviness interfered with my frolicking, so I gave it to Sleepy. SLEEPY!" And here a third Dwarf was assisted to his feet by two of the others."Oh... the radio? Dopey's got it." The grouchy one slapped his forehead and said "Oh Christ! Where the hell is he?" One of the other dwarves pointed to Dopey, who was in the act of attempting to stand on his head on a round boulder "I cud do it," he said "if'n it wadn't fer this!" and he dumped the radio out of his cap.

The head dwarf snatched up the transmitter and said " Ms Villeneuve? This is Grumpy. We're in position." A voice crackled in response alright. He's moving toward the Elder's cottage right now. Continue with the plan. The dwarves quickly arranged a net across the path, tying ropes at the corners and throwing the ropes across several tree limbs. They then concealed themselves as the one called Dopey stepped to the center of the net and began to scatter sticks leaves and dirt across it. When he had finished, he stood still for a second, closed his eyes, and began to sing in a beautiful soprano voice

Fair young maid, all in her garden
Strange young man came riding by
Saying "fair young maid will you marry me?"
This kind sir was her reply..

Farkin was wandering in the meadow, putting off his return to duty aboard ship as long as possible. He was moving slowly toward the stream, whose soft murmerings seemed to promise the disclosure of some secret long held, if only he could listen long enough. He walked carefully, avoiding the red and yellow blooms that dotted the meadow, for they would instantly wilt at his touch. Behind him, his footprints were pressed six inches deep in the soft soil, and filled with the water that was beginning to flow from his Coldsuit in an almost steady stream now. He stood before a Hawthorne Tree, looking closely at a small bird-like animal who chirped and stared back, when Farkin suddenly heard the sound of singing, close by. In a dream-like trance, he moved toward the painfully lovely sound, a song he knew as one of old Dylan Woodrow's. He began to sing it himself as he moved toward the source

"No, kind sir, I cannot marry thee
For ivy love who sails the deep saltsee"

He stepped across the narrow brook, and beheld a small Terran standing in a clearing. Farkin walked slowly toward him, as the little Terran continued his song. The Ice Giant was concerned that the creature might fear him, and so he touched his forehead in the greeting of his kind. At this, the creature suddenly leapt out of the clearing, and Farkin felt the ground suddenly rise, ropes tightening around him.

The dwarves gave a joyous shout and strained at the ropes. "Higher!" shouted Grumpy. "He's too heavy!" said Happy," we can only get him a foot or two in the air!" Grumpy cleared his throat and spat."OK, then. Tie him up." They quickly secured the net ropes, and wrapped him in heavy cord. Grumpy opened his knapsack and produced a thin band of metal, like a crown but studded with points directed inward. Attached to it was a small transmitting device. "I will tell you nothing," growled Farkin. "You don't have to," laughed the dwarf. "Take off his helmet." Happy was raised to Farkin's head height and began to unscrew the Giant's helmet, saying "he won't last long with this off! They're just water, y'know."

"No problem," said Grumpy,"it only takes a minute. Then we'll know everything he knows."