The Chief Monopod hung back and warned the othersthat they’d find the water powerful wet， but one or two of the younger ones tried it almost at once； and then a few others followed their example， and at last the whole lot did the same. It worked perfectly. The huge single foot of a Monopod acted as a natural raft or boat， and when Reepicheep had taught them how to cut rude paddles for themselves， they all paddled about the bay and round the Dawn Treader， looking for all the world like a fleet of little canoes with a fat dwarf standing up in the extreme stern of each. And they had races， and bottles of wine were lowered down to them from the ship as prizes， and the sailors stood leaning over the ship‘s sides and laughed till their own sides ached.
The Duffers were also very pleased with their new name of Monopods， which seemed to them a magnificent name though they never got it right. “That’s what we are，” they bellowed， “Moneypuds， Pomonods， Poddymons. Just what it was on the tips of our tongues to call ourselves.” But they soon got it mixed up with their old name of Duffers and finally settled down to calling themselves the Dufflepuds； and that is what they will probably be called for centuries.