The wounded we met became more numerous as we approached the battle-field, and here and there could be seen a corpse, stiff and stark, slowly but surely evaporating. When we arrived the explosions had already ceased, and Clavo, the general in command, approached upon a bicycle and made his report. From this it appeared that in trying to enlarge the tunnel, the labourers had entered into side-issues, and by blowing out a large block of air, made an opening into a foreign region of unknown extent, which was inhabited by a tribe of sylphs or fairies, unknown to science and not yet classified. These spirits had resented the intrusion, and prevented the approach of our soldiers by pouring upon them sheets of fluid lightning, with the most destructive effect, so that all resistance was rendered impossible, and they were forced to retreat after experiencing a considerable loss. “There is nothing to be done,” said the general, after finishing his account, “but to let these airy spirits alone and begin a new tunnel in some other place. They are not of an aggressive character, and will not molest us if we go away. We have, anyhow, no right to trespass upon their territory.” “This is exactly what I always said,” the king replied; “what business have we to meddle with these good spirits? Let us go.” But the princess interfered. “Rot!” she cried: “Good spirits, indeed! Let them be exterminated! Will your majesty let them deprive us of our glory? Their resistance is an insult to you!” No words can express the pitch of rage to which these words aroused the king. Growing purple in the face and fairly screaming, he elongated himself to three times his natural size, and bumping his head against the wall, as was his habit whenever he fell into a passion, he cried: “Let them be exterminated! Their resistance is an insult to me! Kill them! Cut off their heads!” And falling down in an epileptic fit, owing to the excessiveness of his fury, he stamped with his feet, and kept on yelling, “Kill them! Cut off their heads!” I thought that perhaps the matter might be settled in an amicable manner, and therefore I told the king that rashness was not always the best policy, and I asked for permission to send a messenger, under the protection of a flag of truce, to see whether or not a treaty could be made with the spirits of the upper world. “This is exactly what I always said,” replied the king. “Rashness is not always the best policy. We must send a messenger by all means.” Accordingly Cravatu and myself were appointed to that office, and we went. The undertaking was not without danger, as the nature of the enemy and their habits of thought were not known, and it was not at all improbable that we should receive a shot of lightning at our approach. However, we arrived safely at the lower end of the tunnel, and, looking up, we saw a great number of blue lights moving above like a swarm of bees.