said Nod suddenly.

Thumb's great head turned on his stooping shoulders, and, with mouth
ajar, he stared long and closely at what seemed to be a heap of tangled
boughs washed up in the water far beneath them.

"No nest, Ummanodda," he said at last; "it is some Mulgar's tree-roost
fallen into the water. Its leaves are dry, and the feet of that
long-legs stand deep in Spider-flower."

"To my eyes," said Nod slowly, "it looks to me, Thumb, just like such
another as one of our water-rafts."

"Wait here a little while, Nizza-neela," grunted Thumb suddenly; "I go
down to look for eggs."

Nod watched his brother pushing his way down through the sedge and
trailing Samarak. "Eggs," he whispered--"eggs!" and broke out into his
little yapping laughter, though he knew not why he laughed.

Up, up, on sounding wings flew a bird as white as snow from its lodging
as Thumb drew near. And there he was, stooping, paddling, pushing with
his cudgel, and peering into the tangle at the water-side.

Nod turned his head, filled with a sudden weariness and loneliness. And
in the silence of the beautiful mountains he fell sad, and a little
afraid, as do even Oomgar travellers resting awhile in the journey that
has no end.

Out of his Mulgar dreams he was startled by a sudden, sharp, short
Mulgar bark from far beneath, that might be fear or might be sudden
gladness.

And, in a moment, Thumb, having cast down his cudgel, and with something
clutched in his great hand, was swinging and scrambling back through the
thick, flowery undergrowth of the hillside by the way he had come.

Nod watched him, with head thrust forward and side-long, and at last he
drew near, sweating and coughing.

"S[=o][=o]tli, s[=o][=o]tli!" he muttered. "Magic, magic!" and held out
in the sunlight an old red, rotted gun.

Rusty, choked with earth, its butt smashed, its lock long gone, the two
Mulgars stood with the gun between them.

"Oomgar's gun, Thumb?--Oomgar's?" grunted Nod at last.

Thumb opened wide his mouth, still panting and trembling.

"Noos unga unka, Portingal, Ummanodda. Seelem arggutchkin! Seelem! kara,
kara! Seelem mugleer!"

And even as that last Seelem was uttered, and back to Nod's mind came
that morning leagues, leagues away, and himself sitting on his father's
shoulder, clutching the long cold barrel of the little Portingal's
gun--even at that moment a faint halloo came echoing across the steeps,
and, turning, the Mulla-mulgars saw cli