Thimble came back to him where he sat beside
their night-hut and bade him help tie up his bundle.

"Where are you going to, Thimble?" said Nod. "O Thimble, think a little
first! All these days we have journeyed in peace together. What would
our father, Royal Seelem, say to see us now fighting and quarrelling
like Mullabruks, and all because you cudgelled Thumb in his sleep?"

"In his sleep!" screamed Thimble. "Tell that to your flesh-eating
Oomgar, Prince of Bonfires! How could he be asleep, when he was
squealing like a B[=o][=o]bab full of parakeets? I go back--back _now_.
Who can climb mountains with a fat hulk who takes two breaths to an
Ukka-nut? Come, if you dare! But I care not, whether or no." And with
that, catching up bundle and cudgel, with a last black look over his
shoulder at Thumb, Thimble started off down the valley towards the
forest they had so bravely left behind.

Not a moment had he been gone when Thumb came limping and waddling back
to the shelter, loaded with nuts and berries.

"Sit here and sulk, if you like, Nizza-neela," he growled angrily. "Come
with me, or traipse back with that scatterbrains. Whichever you please,
I care not. I am sick of the glutton that eats all day and cannot sleep
of nights for thinking of his supper."

"How can I go with you," said Nod bitterly, "when I would not go with
Thimble? O Mulla-mulgar Thumb, you who are the eldest and strongest and
wisest of us, be now the best, too! Hasten after Thimble, and bring him
back to be friends. How can we show our faces to our Uncle Assasimmon,
even if we get over these dreadful mountains, saying we wrangled and
gandered all one cold night together simply because you screamed out
with fear in your sleep?"

"Thumb scream! Thumb afraid! Thumb sweat after Lean-legs! If you had not
been my mother's youngest son, Ummanodda, you should never open that
impudent mouth again!" And with that, off went Thumb, too, not caring
whither, so long as it led him farthest away from Thimble.

Now, not to make too much ado about this precious quarrel, this is what
befell the travellers: Thimble, face towards Munza, trotted--one, two,
three; one, two, three--stonily on. But in a while solitude began to
gather about him, and the cold after the heat of the fight struck chill
and woke again his lazy senses. He sat down to wrap up his bruises,
wondering where to be going, what to be doing. The Oomgar, the Nameless,
the Minimuls, the River, the Gunga--