Carter Punch Bes

	I was losing consciousness when something gripped my arm. I punched at it wildly, and my fist connected with a bearded face.
	I broke the surface again, gasping for breath. Bes was half-drowning next to me, yelling: “Stupid—glub, glub—trying to save your glub glub.”
...
	About ten feet away, Bes was scowling at me in annoyance. He had a bloody nose and was buried up to his waist in mud.
	“Usually when you part a river,” he grumbled, “it doesn’t involve punching a dwarf. Now, get me
out of here!”