and his heart stand still as he came
into the shadow of the great trees.

The little bird nestled close to his cheek and refused to leave his
shoulder.

Ned, indeed, felt that he must now look out for himself, and though his
heart beat high, he bravely trudged forward.

It was very unlike the woods to which he had been accustomed to go with
his schoolmates at home, where bright green maples, beeches and birches
made a leafy bower overhead. Instead, there were solemn pines and
hemlocks, and as he entered deeper, great caverns appeared in the rocks
and narrow gulleys, into which one might easily fall and break one's
neck.

Through this dismal place he trudged along, with his knees shaking, but
with a brave heart, until he came to a great pine, which evidently had
been struck by lightning, for it stood up white and tall, lifting its
bare arms to the sky, like some specter giant crying for vengeance.

Luckily he had placed the bluebird in his pocket, fearing that the low
hanging branches would sweep it from his shoulders. Had he not done so
before arriving at this spot the opportunity would not have presented
itself again.

Right at the foot of the pine, on a decaying log, sat a little old man,
who was altogether the ugliest looking object that Ned had ever seen. He
was about half the size of ordinary men, though the whiteness of his
hair and beard showed plainly that he would never be any taller, and
though his body was short and crooked to the last degree, his face was
long and pale, but was lighted up by wonderfully brilliant eyes.

These were fixed on Ned from the moment he came in sight, and, piercing
through the darkness, it is no wonder that they chilled the poor boy's
blood and failed to quicken his pace. Indeed, it is not quite certain
that he would have gone forward at all if the greater part of the forest
had not been behind him, though there seemed to be a spell in the
strange eyes that drew the boy on in spite of himself.

"Come along! What are you afraid of?" cried the dwarf in a little, dry
voice, that sounded like the cracking of a dry twig beneath one's foot.

Ned hesitated, and, as if seeking the comfort of something alive and
friendly, thrust his hand into his pocket alongside of the little
bluebird.

"Come on! Come on, little master," repeated the dwarf. "Here I have been
waiting more than an hour to tell you some good news, and now that you
are here you would hinder me because you are such a