de no answer.

Then a fat old she-pig began speaking in a soft, pleasant voice. "You
must be very, very rich, Prince Nod, with those great bags of nuts; and,
surely, it must be royal Sudd I smell! And Assasimmon his uncle! whose
house is more than a thousand pigs'-tails long; and gardens so thick
with trees of fruit and honey, one groans to have only one stomach. Come
down a little way, Prince Nod, and tell us poor hungry pigs of the royal
Assasimmon and the dainty food he eats."

So pleasant was her flattering voice Nod thought there could not
possibly be any harm in scrambling down just one or two branches. And
though his fingers were still stiff with cold, he began to edge down.

"Oh, but bring a bundle--bring a bundle, little Prince. It's cold for
gentlefolk sitting in the snow."

"Pigs--pigs must naked go; but not for gentlefolk the snow," squealed
the herd shrilly.

"Come gently, Prince Nod; do not stir your royal brothers, Prince Nod!"
said the old crafty one.

Nod listened to her flattery, and, having untied his precious bundle, he
slid down with it softly to the ground.

"A seat--a seat for Prince Nod," cried the old sow. "Oh, what a royal
jacket--oh, what a handsome jacket!" So Nod sat down on his bundle in
the moonlight of the snow, and all the wild pig, scenting his Sudd,
pressed close--forty wild pig at least.

"Assasimmon, Assasimmon, Prince of Tishnar, Prince of Tishnar," they
kept grunting, and at every word they squeezed and edged closer and
closer, their hungry snouts in air--closer and closer, till Nod had to
hold tight to keep his seat; closer and closer, and again they began
squealing: "Pigs are hungry, brother Nod. Cakes of Sudd, cakes of
_Sudd_!" And then, like a great scrambling wave of pigs, they rushed at
him all together. Over went Nod into the snow. Scores of little sharp
hoofs scuttled over him. And when at last he was able to get up and look
about him, bruised and scratched and breathless, no trace of pigs was
there, no trace of bundle; every nut and crust of Sudd and crumb of
pulpy Mulgar-bread was gone. And suddenly came a loud, harsh voice out
of the tree. "Ho, ho, and ahoh! What's the trouble? what's the trouble?"
Nod looked up, and saw Thumb and Thimble staring down between their
out-stretched arms through the moon-silvery leaves. And he told them,
trembling, of how he could not sleep, and about the pigs and the bundle.

"O most wise Nizza-neela!" said Thumb when he had finis