in view. As at first, he always kept
hold of the end of his string, while his pickaxe, left just outside the
hole by which he entered the goblins' country from the mine, continued
to serve as an anchor and hold fast the other end. The goblins,
hearing no more noise in that quarter, had ceased to apprehend an
immediate invasion, and kept no watch.

One night, after dodging about and listening till he was nearly falling
asleep with weariness, he began to roll up his ball, for he had
resolved to go home to bed. It was not long, however, before he began
to feel bewildered. One after another he passed goblin houses, caves,
that is, occupied by goblin families, and at length was sure they were
many more than he had passed as he came. He had to use great caution
to pass unseen--they lay so close together. Could his string have led
him wrong? He still followed winding it, and still it led him into
more thickly populated quarters, until he became quite uneasy, and
indeed apprehensive; for although he was not afraid of the cobs, he was
afraid of not finding his way out. But what could he do? It was of no
use to sit down and wait for the morning--the morning made no
difference here. It was dark, and always dark; and if his string
failed him he was helpless. He might even arrive within a yard of the
mine and never know it. Seeing he could do nothing better he would at
least find where the end of his string was, and, if possible, how it
had come to play him such a trick. He knew by the size of the ball
that he was getting pretty near the last of it, when he began to feel a
tugging and pulling at it. What could it mean? Turning a sharp
corner, he thought he heard strange sounds. These grew, as he went on,
to a scuffling and growling and squeaking; and the noise increased,
until, turning a second sharp corner, he found himself in the midst of
it, and the same moment tumbled over a wallowing mass, which he knew
must be a knot of the cobs' creatures. Before he could recover his
feet, he had caught some great scratches on his face and several severe
bites on his legs and arms. But as he scrambled to get up, his hand
fell upon his pickaxe, and before the horrid beasts could do him any
serious harm, he was laying about with it right and left in the dark.
The hideous cries which followed gave him the satisfaction of knowing
that he had punished some of them pretty smartly for their rudeness,
and by their scampering and their