me of them were, and
how swift as well as manageable many others, they now set themselves
to secure their aid against the giants, and with loving, playful
approaches, had soon made more than friends of most of them, from
the first addressing horse or elephant as Brother or Sister Elephant,
Brother or Sister Horse, until before long they had an individual name
for each. It was some little time longer before they said Brother or
Sister Bear, but that came next, and the other day she had heard one
little fellow cry, "Ah, Sister Serpent!" to a snake that bit him as he
played with it too roughly. Most of them would have nothing to do with a
caterpillar, except watch it through its changes; but when at length it
came from its retirement with wings, all would immediately address it as
Sister Butterfly, congratulating it on its metamorphosis--for which
they used a word that meant something like REPENTANCE--and evidently
regarding it as something sacred.

One moonlit evening, as they were going to gather their fruit, they came
upon a woman seated on the ground with a baby in her lap--the woman
I had met on my way to Bulika. They took her for a giantess that had
stolen one of their babies, for they regarded all babies as their
property. Filled with anger they fell upon her multitudinously, beating
her after a childish, yet sufficiently bewildering fashion. She would
have fled, but a boy threw himself down and held her by the feet.
Recovering her wits, she recognised in her assailants the children whose
hospitality she sought, and at once yielded the baby. Lona appeared, and
carried it away in her bosom.

But while the woman noted that in striking her they were careful not to
hurt the child, the Little Ones noted that, as she surrendered her,
she hugged and kissed her just as they wanted to do, and came to the
conclusion that she must be a giantess of the same kind as the good
giant. The moment Lona had the baby, therefore, they brought the mother
fruit, and began to show her every sort of childish attention.

Now the woman had been in perplexity whither to betake herself, not
daring to go back to the city, because the princess was certain to find
out who had lamed her leopardess: delighted with the friendliness of
the little people, she resolved to remain with them for the present:
she would have no trouble with her infant, and might find some way
of returning to her husband, who was rich in money and gems, and very
seldom unk