ungry and shivering in the tree-tops. And
he pondered how he could help them. Presently he began to chafe and toss
in his bed, to sigh and groan.

Up started the old Gunga from his corner beside the fire. "What ails the
Prince? Why does he groan? Are you in pain, Mulla-mulgar?"

"In pain!" cried Nod, as if in a great rage, "How shall a Prince sleep
with twice ten thousand Gunga fleas in his blanket?"

He got up, dragging after him the thick Munzaram's fleece off his bed,
and, opening the door, flung it out into the snow. "Try that, my hungry
hopping ones," he said, and pushed up the door again. "Now I must have
another one," he said.

The old Fish-catcher excused himself for the fleas. "It is cold to comb
in the doorway," he said, rubbing his flat nose. And he took another
woolly skin out of his earth-cupboard and laid it over Nod.

"That's one for Thumb," Nod said to himself, laughing. And presently
once more he began fretting and tossing. "Oh, oh, oh!" he cried out,
"What! More of ye! more of ye!" and with that away he went again, and
flung the second ram's fleece after the first.

"Master Traveller, Master Traveller!" yelped the old Fish-catcher,
starting up, "if you throw all my blankets out, those thieves the
smudge-faces will steal them."

"Better no blankets than a million fleas," said Nod; "and yours, Master
Fish-catcher, are as greedy as Ephelanto tics. And now I think I will
sleep by the fire, then the first peep of day will shine in my eyes from
that little window-hole up there, and wake me to my fishing."

"Udzmutchakiss" ("So be it"), growled the Gunga. But he was very angry
underneath. "Wait ye, wait ye, wait ye, my pretty Squirrel-tail," he
kept muttering to himself as he sat with crossed arms. "For every
blanket a Bobberie or great fish."

But Nod had never felt so merry in his life. To think of his brothers
wrapped warm in the Gunga-mulgar's blankets!--He laughed aloud.

"What ails the Traveller? What is he mocking at now?" said the
Fish-catcher, glowering out of his corner.

"Why," said Nod, "I laughed to hear the mice in this box hanging over my
head."

"Mice?" said the Gunga.

"Why, yes; a score or more," said Nod. "And one old husky Muttakin keeps
saying, 'Nibble all, nibble all; leave not one whole, my little pretty
ones--not the crumb of a crumb for the ugly old glutton.' I think, O
generous Gunga, she means the bread of Sudd, I smell."

At that the Gunga flamed up in a fury. He r