A gaggle of startled gaulins soar of a sudden. Distance themselves from the undulating line of Mucca-Mucca. The ordinarily still water becomes choppy; warns of impending rain. No more sibilant sssssshhhhhhing of water parting ways with the sides of our boat, but a drummer's shlap-shlap, tup-tup, shlash-shlash, pap-pap, as though some ancestor with large hands was shaping music-words on the underside of the fibre-glass bow.
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