e with
them all. No fairy harper upon his harp, or piper upon his pipe, or
fiddler upon his fiddle, could play half so sweetly as he could play
upon an ivy leaf; and when they remembered all the pleasant moonlit
nights on which they had danced to his music, and thought that they
should never hear or dance to it any more, their little hearts were
filled with sorrow. The queen was as sad as any of her subjects, but
the king's word should be obeyed.

When the time came for the little fellow to set out into exile the queen
sent her head page to him with a handful of berries. These the queen
said he was to offer to the giants, and say at the same time that the
giant who was willing to guard the tree could feast on berries just as
sweet from morn till night.

As the little fellow went on his way nearly all the fairies followed him
to the borders of the land, and when they saw him go up the mountain
towards the land of the giants, they all took off their little red caps
and waved them until he was out of sight.

On he went walking all day and night, and when the sun rose on the
morrow he was on the top of the mountain, and he could see the land of
the giants in the valley stretched far below him. Before beginning his
descent he turned round for a last glimpse of fairyland; but he could
see nothing, for a thick, dark cloud shut it out from view. He was
very sad, and tired, and footsore, and as he struggled down the rough
mountain side, he could not help thinking of the soft, green woods and
mossy pathways of the pleasant land he had left behind him.

[Illustration: "He was very sad, and tired"]

When he awoke the ground was trembling, and a noise that sounded like
thunder fell on his ears. He looked up and saw coming towards him a
terrible giant, with one eye that burned like a live coal in the middle
of his forehead; his mouth stretched from ear to ear, his teeth were
long and crooked, the skin of his face was as black as night, and his
arms and chest were all covered with black, shaggy hair; round his body
was an iron band, and hanging from this by a chain was a great club with
iron spikes. With one blow of this club he could break a rock into
splinters, and fire could not burn him, and water could not drown him,
and weapons could not wound him, and there was no way to kill him but
by giving him three blows of his own club. And he was so bad-tempered
that the other giants called him Sharvan the Surly. When the giant spie