"Here you go old timer." Don could hear the even tones of his Frisian friend. He felt the cool wet of water on his lips. He pulled his hand up to drink the offer.

"I thought you were younger," the Frisian looked at Don quizzically. "Don't worry grand-father, we'll set you straight." Don could see he was in the forest. The dark encounter must have been the result of his lapse in consciousness. He sat up sand nodded to the biscuit giver. "Thank you for the water. You have been very good to me."

"Don't think about that - you picked a good place to sleep. There's water just ahead of us - and with that came this." He held up a good-sized trout by it's gill. "Let me get a fire ready and we'll have a meal."

The water helped a great deal. Don felt much recovered. The thought of a fresh trout took away some of the pain in his belly. "I'll get some wood," he said, slowly rising to his feet.

"Yes. Good. Just don't put yourself in such a state again." The Frisian seemed to be warming up to him. Don wondered what had changed.

He turned to the woods to look for some deadwood. Bundled at the feet of a tree were a pair of pants and a blouse. Worse for wear, but similar to the bundle he had seen in the dark place with the old man. Strewn below was a rope and a tattered knapsack. They appeared to have been left there some time before.

Don slipped them on and hung the knapsack from his shoulders. Better that he use them than just leaving them to rot, he thought. Strange dream - so real, he wondered. He pushed into the wood to find some kindling.