throw away the stones from the top as fast as she could, sometimes two
or three at a handful, sometimes taking both hands to lift one. After
clearing them away a little, she found that the thread turned and went
straight downwards. Hence, as the heap sloped a good deal, growing of
course wider towards its base, she had to throw away a multitude of
stones to follow the thread. But this was not all, for she soon found
that the thread, after going straight down for a little way, turned
first sideways in one direction, then sideways in another, and then
shot, at various angles, hither and thither inside the heap, so that
she began to be afraid that to clear the thread she must remove the
whole huge gathering. She was dismayed at the very idea, but, losing
no time, set to work with a will; and with aching back, and bleeding
fingers and hands, she worked on, sustained by the pleasure of seeing
the heap slowly diminish and begin to show itself on the opposite side
of the fire. Another thing which helped to keep up her courage was
that, as often as she uncovered a turn of the thread, instead of lying
loose upon the stone, it tightened up; this made her sure that her
grandmother was at the end of it somewhere.

She had got about half-way down when she started, and nearly fell with
fright. Close to her ears as it seemed, a voice broke out singing:

'Jabber, bother, smash!
You'll have it all in a crash.
Jabber, smash, bother!
You'll have the worst of the pother.
Smash, bother, jabber!--'

Here Curdie stopped, either because he could not find a rhyme to
'jabber', or because he remembered what he had forgotten when he woke
up at the sound of Irene's labours, that his plan was to make the
goblins think he was getting weak. But he had uttered enough to let
Irene know who he was.

'It's Curdie!' she cried joyfully.

'Hush! hush!' came Curdie's voice again from somewhere. 'Speak softly.'

'Why, you were singing loud!' said Irene.

'Yes. But they know I am here, and they don't know you are. Who are
you?'

'I'm Irene,' answered the princess. 'I know who you are quite well.
You're Curdie.'

'Why, how ever did you come here, Irene?'

'My great-great-grandmother sent me; and I think I've found out why.
You can't get out, I suppose?'

'No, I can't. What are you doing?'

'Clearing away a huge heap of stones.'

'There's a princess!' exclaimed Curdie, in a tone of delight, but still
speaking in little m