way in my little Bobberie, quite,
quite alone--no one must be near to spy or listen; then I cast my nets
into the water and sing and sing."

"What nets?" said the Gunga.

Nod dodged a crisscross with his finger in the air.

"S[=o][=o]tli, s[=o][=o]tli," mewed Puss, with her eyes half shut.

The old Gunga wriggled his head with his great lip sagging. "What
happens then?" said he.

"Then," said Nod, "from far and near my Magic draws the fishes, head,
fin, and tail, hundreds and hundreds, all to hear my Water-middens'
lovely song."

"And what then?" said Gunga.

"Then," said Nod, peeping with his eye, "I look and I look till I see
the biggest fish of all--seven, eight, nine times as big as that up
there, and I draw him out gently, gently, just as I choose him, into my
Bobberie."

"And wouldn't _any_ fish come to the little Prince unless he fished
alone?" said the greedy Gunga.

"None," said Nod. "But there, why should we be gossiping of fishing? My
boat is far away."

"But," said the Gunga cunningly, "I have a boat."

"Ohe, maybe," said Nod easily. "One cannot drown on dry land. But I did
speak of a Bobberie of skin and Bemba-wood, made by the stamping
Oomgar-nuggas next the sea."

"Ay," said the Gunga triumphantly, "but that's just what my Bobberie
_is_ made of, and I broke the backbone of the Oomgar-nugga chief that
made it with one cuff of my cudgel-hand."

Nod yawned. "Tishnar's Prince is tired," he said, "and cannot talk of
fishes any more. A bowlful more broth, Master Fish-catcher, and then
I'll just put on my jacket and go to sleep." And he laughed, oh, so
softly to himself to see that sooty, gluttonous, velvety face, and the
red, gleaming eyes, and the thick, twitching thumbs.

"Ootz nuggthli!" coughed the Gunga sourly. He ladled out the broth,
bobbing with broken pods, with a great nutshell, muttering angrily to
himself as he stooped over the pot. And there, as soon as he had turned
his back, came those two dark wondering faces at the window, grinning to
see little Nod so snug and comfortable before the fire.

And when the Gunga had poured out the broth, he brought his stool nearer
to Nod, and, leaning his great hands on the floor, he said: "See here,
Prince of Tishnar, if I lend you my skin Bobberie to-morrow morning,
will you catch _me_ some fish with your magic song?"

Nod frowned and stared into the fire. "The crafty Gunga would be peeping
between the trees," he said, "and then----"

"Wh