she thought; but she said nothing.

The moon was now up, and it was a splendid sight below and around them.
All Giantland was spread out under them, with its great hills, lakes,
trees, and animals. And all above them was the clear heaven, and Mount
Skycrack rising into it, with its endless ladders of spider-webs,
glittering like cords made of moonbeams. And up the moonbeams went,
crawling, and scrambling, and racing, a huge army of huge spiders.

At length they reached all but the very summit, where they stopped.
Tricksey-Wee and Buffy-Bob could see above them a great globe of
feathers, that finished off the mountain like an ornamental knob.

"But how shall we drive her off?" said Buffy.

"We'll soon manage that," answered the grandfather-spider. "Come on
you, down there."

Up rushed the whole army, past the children, over the edge of the nest,
on to the she-eagle, and buried themselves in her feathers. In a moment
she became very restless, and went pecking about with her beak. All at
once she spread out her wings, with a sound like a whirlwind, and flew
off to bathe in the sea; and then the spiders began to drop from her in
all directions on their gossamer wings. The children had to hold fast
to keep the wind of the eagle's flight from blowing them off. As soon
as it was over, they looked into the nest, and there lay the giant's
heart--an awful and ugly thing.

"Make haste, child!" said Tricksey's spider.

So Tricksey took her bag, and squeezed a drop out of it upon the heart.
She thought she heard the giant give a far-off roar of pain, and she
nearly fell from her seat with terror. The heart instantly began to
shrink. It shrunk and shrivelled till it was nearly gone; and Buffy-Bob
caught it up and put it into his bag. Then the two spiders turned and
went down again as fast as they could. Before they got to the bottom,
they heard the shrieks of the she-eagle over the loss of her egg; but
the spiders told them not to be alarmed, for her eyes were too big to
see them.--By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, all the
spiders had got home, and were busy again catching flies, as if nothing
had happened.

After renewed thanks to their friends, the children set off, carrying
the giant's heart with them.

"If you should find it at all troublesome, just give it a little more
spider-juice directly," said the grandfather, as they took their leave.

Now, the giant had given an awful roar of pain the moment t