The light cheered
his spirits, and he thought, "Nod will soon feel sleepy now," when
suddenly out of the gloom of the forest burst a sounder or drove of wild
pig, scuffling and chuggling beneath the tree. Peeping down, Nod could
just see them in the faint moonshine, with their long, black, hairy ears
and tufted tails.

And presently, while they were grubbing in the snow, one lifted up its
snout and cried in a loud voice: "Co-older--and colder!"

"Co-older--and colder," cried another.

"Co-older--and colder," cried a third. And all silently grubbed on as
before.

"The Queen of the Mountains is in the Forest," began the first again,
"with fingers of frost."

"And shoulders of snow."

[Illustration: "THE QUEEN OF THE MOUNTAINS IS IN THE FOREST ... WITH
FINGERS OF FROST."]

"And feet of ice," screamed the third.

"The Queen of the Mountains," they grunted all together; and went on
burrowing, and shouldering, and faintly squeaking.

"Hungrier and hungrier," cried one in a shrill voice, suddenly lifting
its head, so that Nod could see quite clearly its pale green, greedy
slits of eyes.

"Leaner and leaner," answered another.

"All the Sudd hid, all the Ukkas gone, all the B[=o][=o]bab frozen!"
squealed a third.

"The Queen of the Mountains is in the Forest," they grunted all
together. But the pig that had looked up into the tree was still
staring--staring and wrinkling his narrow snout, till at last all the
pigs stopped feeding. "Pigs, my brothers; pigs, my brothers," he
muttered. "Up in this tree are Mulgar three, which travellers be.... Ho,
there!" But Nod thought it best to make no answer. And the pig turned
round and beat with his hind-feet against the bole or trunk of the
Ollaconda. "Ho, there, little Mulgar in the sheep-skin coat!"

"If you beat like that, horny-foot, you'll wake my brothers," said Nod.

"Brothers!" said the pig angrily. "What's brothers to Ukka-nuts? What's
your names, and where are you going?"

"My brothers' names," said Nod, "are Thumma and Thimbulla, and I am Nod.
We are going to the palace of ivory and Azmamogreel that is our Uncle
Assasimmon's, Prince of the Valleys of Tishnar." At that all the pigs
began muttering together.

"Come down and tell us!" said a lean yellow pig; and as he snapped his
jaws Nod saw in the moonbeam the frost-light blinking on his bristles.

"Tell you what?" said Nod.

"About this Prince of Tishnar. Oh, these false-tongued Mulgars!" Nod
ma