came running through the wood, at first in twos
and threes, then ten or twenty together, and at last in such crowds that
they seemed to fill the whole forest. Alice got behind a tree, for fear
of being run over, and watched them go by.

She thought that in all her life she had never seen soldiers so
uncertain on their feet: they were always tripping over something or
other, and whenever one went down, several more always fell over him, so
that the ground was soon covered with little heaps of men.

Then came the horses. Having four feet, these managed rather better than
the foot-soldiers: but even THEY stumbled now and then; and it seemed
to be a regular rule that, whenever a horse stumbled the rider fell off
instantly. The confusion got worse every moment, and Alice was very glad
to get out of the wood into an open place, where she found the White
King seated on the ground, busily writing in his memorandum-book.

'I've sent them all!' the King cried in a tone of delight, on seeing
Alice. 'Did you happen to meet any soldiers, my dear, as you came
through the wood?'

'Yes, I did,' said Alice: 'several thousand, I should think.'

'Four thousand two hundred and seven, that's the exact number,' the King
said, referring to his book. 'I couldn't send all the horses, you know,
because two of them are wanted in the game. And I haven't sent the two
Messengers, either. They're both gone to the town. Just look along the
road, and tell me if you can see either of them.'

'I see nobody on the road,' said Alice.

'I only wish _I_ had such eyes,' the King remarked in a fretful tone.
'To be able to see Nobody! And at that distance, too! Why, it's as much
as _I_ can do to see real people, by this light!'

All this was lost on Alice, who was still looking intently along
the road, shading her eyes with one hand. 'I see somebody now!' she
exclaimed at last. 'But he's coming very slowly--and what curious
attitudes he goes into!' (For the messenger kept skipping up and down,
and wriggling like an eel, as he came along, with his great hands spread
out like fans on each side.)

'Not at all,' said the King. 'He's an Anglo-Saxon Messenger--and those
are Anglo-Saxon attitudes. He only does them when he's happy. His name
is Haigha.' (He pronounced it so as to rhyme with 'mayor.')

'I love my love with an H,' Alice couldn't help beginning, 'because
he is Happy. I hate him with an H, because he is Hideous. I fed him
with--with--with Ham-sa