“I believe the joke has killed him--it’s a very old one,” said Coppertop. But she was sorry afterwards, as the poor Bird looked so very crestfallen. “We’ll soon see!” he cried. And flying down, he perched upon the crocodile’s eyelid and pecked at it. But it never flickered. “Dead! Dead as a stone!” he remarked. And bursting into tears, he flew away, sadly twittering. After he had gone, Coppertop sat wondering how she was to release Tibbs and Kiddiwee, when she saw a sharp-pointed stone lying near her feet. “Why, it’s the very thing!” she exclaimed. “I’ll make a hole in the old reptile with this, and then they can crawl through.” So saying, she set to work, and quickly removed a piece of his hard, leathery skin. The hole was certainly not much larger than a penny, when to her surprise she saw the head and shoulders of Tibbs through the opening, and then Kiddiwee. The next moment they both flew out and rushed towards her, trying to throw their tiny arms round her neck. Of course she was overjoyed to see them. But what had happened? They were no larger than dragon-flies. Then she remembered all she had seen from Waomba’s arms--how the Mist Maidens had kissed them till they grew smaller and smaller and floated down like leaves on to the island. “It was all the fault of those stupid Maidens!” apologised Tibbs, as soon as the excitement of their greeting was over. “They would keep on kissing us! And it made us feel small! And, of course, when you feel small, I suppose you become so!” “Never mind,” said their sister, soothingly, as she snuggled them under her chin against her warm neck. “Hurry up, my dears!” cried a voice near by, “or you’ll miss the East Wind, too.” “Why, it’s old Mr. Atom!” cried Tibbs, in surprise. “Where? Oh, where?” said Kiddiwee. “There, sitting on that spider web,” replied Tibbs. “See!” “I can’t see him,” said Coppertop, who was too large. “But I do believe I had forgotten all about the East Wind. Do let us hurry.” “You mean the West Wind,” corrected Tibbs. “No, I don’t. It’s the East Wind we’ve to find now. Isn’t it, Mr. Atom?” “That’s so,” he replied. “And you’d better look sharp about it. But you two boys aren’t much use that size, are you? On the bank of the river you will find growing a fruit called the mabola. It is like a strawberry. Eat it, and you’ll soon be your natural size. Ta-ta!” And before they could thank him he had disappeared. “He’s a dear!” cried Coppertop. “But I do wish he wasn’t so small.” Quicker than words can tell, the little party flew across the river. And they had no trouble in finding the berry which Mr. Atom had described. Tibbs tasted it, and immediately he began to grow. “It’s scrumptious!” he cried, eating more and more as his mouth grew larger. Kiddiwee did likewise, and in less than no time they were restored to their right size. Coppertop gave a little sigh. They couldn’t nestle against her neck any more, now.