d him, the cause of
the imperfection: they wanted to dance all round the tree, but Lina
would not permit them to come on her side.

Now curdie liked the birds, and did not altogether like Lina. But
neither, nor both together, made a reason for driving away the
princess's creature. Doubtless she had been the goblins' creature, but
the last time he saw her was in the king's house and the dove tower,
and at the old princess's feet. So he left her to do as she would, and
the dance of the birds continued only a semicircle, troubled at the
edges, and returning upon itself.

But their song and their motions, nevertheless, and the waving of their
wings, began at length to make him very sleepy. All the time he had
kept doubting whether they could really be birds, and the sleepier he
got, the more he imagined them something else, but he suspected no harm.

Suddenly, just as he was sinking beneath the waves of slumber, he awoke
in fierce pain. The birds were upon him--all over him--and had begun
to tear him with beaks and claws. He had but time, however, to feel
that he could not move under their weight, when they set up a hideous
screaming, and scattered like a cloud. Lina was among them, snapping
and striking with her paws, while her tail knocked them over and over.
But they flew up, gathered, and descended on her in a swarm, perching
upon every part of her body, so that he could see only a huge misshapen
mass, which seemed to go rolling away into the darkness. He got up and
tried to follow, but could see nothing, and after wandering about
hither and thither for some time, found himself again beside the
hawthorn. He feared greatly that the birds had been too much for Lina,
and had torn her to pieces. In a little while, however, she came
limping back, and lay down in her old place. Curdie also lay down,
but, from the pain of his wounds, there was no sleep for him. When the
light came he found his clothes a good deal torn and his skin as well,
but gladly wondered why the wicked birds had not at once attacked his
eyes. Then he turned, looking for Lina. She rose and crept to him.
But she was in far worse plight than he--plucked and gashed and torn
with the beaks and claws of the birds, especially about the bare part
of her neck, so that she was pitiful to see. And those worst wounds
she could not reach to lick.

'Poor Lina!' said Curdie, 'you got all those helping me.'

She wagged her tail, and made it clear she