"Mine, all mine," said the little robber-girl. Jumping up, she seized the dove nearest her by the feet and shook it till its wings flapped. Then she slung it against Gerda's face. "Kiss it," she said. "Yes, all mine; and look," she went on, "he is mine, too;" and she caught by the horn a reindeer that was tied to the wall. He had a bright brass collar round his neck. "We have to keep him tied or he would run away. I tickle him every night with my sharp knife, and then he is afraid;" and the girl drew from a hole in the wall a long knife, and gently ran it across the reindeer's neck. The poor animal kicked, but the little robber-girl laughed, and then again lay down on her bed of straw. "But," said Gerda, with terror in her eyes, "you are not going to sleep with that long, sharp knife in your hand?" "Yes, I always do," replied the robber-girl; "one never knows what may happen. But tell me again all about Kay, and about your journey through the wide world." And Gerda told all her story over again. Then the little robber-girl put one arm round Gerda's neck, and with her long knife in the other, she fell sound asleep. But Gerda could not sleep. How could she, with that sharp knife close beside her? She would try not to think of it. She would listen to the doves. "Coo, coo," they said. Then they came nearer. "We have seen little Kay," they whispered. "He floated by above our nest in the Snow Queen's sledge. She blew upon us as she passed, and her icy breath killed many of us." "But where was little Kay going? Where does the Snow Queen live?" asked Gerda. "The reindeer can tell you everything," said the doves. "Yes," said the reindeer, "I can tell you. Little Kay was going to the Snow Queen's palace, a splendid palace of glittering ice, away in Lapland." "Oh, Kay, little Kay!" sighed Gerda. "Lie still, or I shall stick my knife into you," said the little robber-girl. And little Gerda lay still, but she did not sleep. In the morning she told the robber-girl what the doves and the reindeer had said. The little robber-girl looked very solemn and thoughtful. Then she nodded her head importantly. At last she spoke, not to Gerda, but to the reindeer. "I should like to keep you here always, tied by your brass collar to that wall. Then I should still tickle you with my knife, and have the fun of seeing you kick and struggle. But never mind. Do you know where Lapland is?" Lapland! of course the reindeer knew. Had he not been born there? Had he not played in its snow-covered fields? As the reindeer thought of his happy childhood, his eyes danced. "Would you like to go back to your old home?" asked the robber-girl. The reindeer leaped into the air for joy.