The Last Continent

frightened of you,” he said. “Why should I be frightened of you?”
    “Well,” said the kangaroo, “I could kick your stomach out through your neck.”
    “Ah. You can talk?”
    “You’re a quick one,” said the kangaroo. It rubbed an ear again.
    “Something wrong?” said Rincewind.
    “No, that’s the kangaroo language. I’m trying it out.”
    “What, one scratch for ‘yes,’ one for ‘no’? That sort of thing?”
    The kangaroo scratched an ear, and then remembered itself. “Yep,” it said. It wrinkled its nose.
    “And that wrinkling?” said Rincewind.
    “Oh, that means ‘Come quick, someone’s fallen down a deep hole,’” said the kangaroo.
    “That one gets used a lot?”
    “You’d be amazed.”
    “And…what’s kangaroo for ‘You are needed for a quest of the utmost importance’?” said Rincewind, with guileful innocence.
    “You know, it’s funny you should ask that—”
    The sandals barely moved. Rincewind rose from them like a man leaving the starting blocks, and when he landed his feet were already making running movements in the air.
    After a while the kangaroo came alongside and accompanied him in a series of easy bounds.
    “Why are you running away without even listening to what I have to say?”
    “I’ve had long experience of being me,” panted Rincewind. “I know what’s going to happen. I’m going to be dragged into things that shouldn’t concern me. And you’re just a hallucination caused by rich food on an empty stomach, so don’t you try to stop me!”
    “Stop you?” said the kangaroo. “When you’re heading in the right direction?”
    Rincewind tried to slow down, but his method of running was very efficiently based on the idea that stopping was the last thing he’d do. Legs still moving, he ran out over the empty air and plunged into the void.
    The kangaroo looked down and, with a certain amount of satisfaction, wrinkled its nose.

    “Archchancellor!”
    Ridcully awoke, and sat up. The Lecturer in Recent Runes was hurrying up, out of breath.
    “The Bursar and I went for a walk along the beach,” he said. “And can you guess where we ended up?”
    “In Kiddling Street, Quirm,” said Ridcully tartly, brushing an exploring beetle off his beard. “That little bit by the teashop, with the trees in it.”
    “That’s astonishing, Archchancellor. Because, you know, in fact, we didn’t . We wound up back here. We’re on a tiny island. Were you having a rest?”
    “A few moments’ cogitating,” said Ridcully. “Any idea where we are yet, Mister Stibbons?”
    Ponder looked up from his notebook. “I won’t be able to work that out precisely until sundown, sir. But I think we’re pretty close to the Rim.”
    “And I think we found where the Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography has been camping,” said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. He rummaged in a deep pocket. “There was a camp, and a fireplace. Bamboo furniture and whatnot. Socks on a washing line. And this.”
    He pulled out the remains of a small notebook. It was standard UU issue. Ridcully would never let anyone have a new one until they’d filled up every page on both sides.
    “It was just lying there,” said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. “I’m afraid ants have been eating it.”
    Ridcully flicked it open and read the first page. “‘Some interesting observations on Mono Island,’” he said. “‘A most singular place.’”
    He flicked through the rest of the book. “Just a list of plants and fishes,” he said. “Doesn’t look all that special to me , but then I ain’t a geography man. Why’s he callin’ it Mono Island?”
    “It means One Island,” said Ponder.
    “Well, you’ve just told me it is one island,” said Ridcully. “Anyway, I can see several more out there. Severe lack of imagination, I suggest.” He tucked the notebook into his robe. “Right, then. No sign of the chap himself?”
    “Strangely, no.”
    “Probably went swimming and was eaten by a pineapple,” said Ridcully. “How’s the Librarian doing, Mister Stibbons? Comfortable, is he?”
    “You should know, sir,” said Ponder. “You’ve been sitting on him for three-quarters of an hour.”
    Ridcully looked down at the deckchair. It was covered with red fur. “This is—?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “I thought perhaps our geography man had brought it with him.”
    “Not, er, with the black toenails, sir.”
    Ridcully peered further. “Should I get up, do you think?”
    “Well, he