Pulling to shore, the men raced around snatching up a dozen or so of the juiciest-looking fruits, then leaped back in their boats and scurried off before anyone could confront them. When they’d rowed far enough downstream to avoid being followed, they pulled over again, put the kettle on the fire, and concocted a batch of squash stew, which they feasted on, twice—first for lunch and then again that night for supper.
Dude wtf
