"Don't use those catseyes and it might be possible; that is, if you are willing. Be warned! Let me carry you quickly to the other side and then run home," said the Bird-Fairy anxiously. Cyril shook his head, so Dulcie shook hers. "It's always 'don't,'" he muttered. "It's sure to be all right, Dulcie," he said turning to her. "Are you sure?" she inquired vaguely, with a lingering glance at the Fairy, who had turned away sadly. "It must be if we keep that last change as we arranged." From the trees now issued forth sweet wood-birds of many kinds--the air was thick with them; they circled three times round the fairy ring and then all flew away, and the children were once more alone. "Wasn't that beautiful? Ah!" sighed Dulcie, looking after them, "I wish I could be one of them and sing like them." Hardly were the words out of her mouth when Cyril began to stare about in amazement. His sister was nowhere to be seen. Her disappearance was so rapid that the earth might have swallowed her up. "Dulcie, Dulcie," he cried. "Wherever are you? Come back at once when I tell you!" Nothing stirred in the stillness except the waving branches of the tall trees--and a little bird that came and perched upon his shoulder and began softly to trill into his ear what meant nothing to him. He stroked its smooth plumage. His hand touched something hard around its throat. He parted the feathers and found--a golden circlet set with catseyes, one of which was missing. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "It's her!" He was too flustered to talk grammar. "How fearfully quick the change came about--only just a slight hint like that! I say! We _shall_ have to look out! I wonder how you like it, you pretty little bird! I wish I could understand those chirping sounds!" Instantly he became like her--a lark. He understood her at once, and the pair flew away, singing gaily as they rose together, fluttering up and up, soaring high and ever higher into the blue azure of the cloudless sky. Never was there such a blissful sensation as that, flying heavenwards to the music of their own making. Dancing at a party to the accompaniment of a piano was mere ordinary child's play compared to the invigorating delight of this new experience. The earth looked like a map, and they realised now what was meant by a "bird's-eye view." After a time, still singing, they dropped quickly down to earth. Then Cyril led the way into the Wood, where they perched in one of the highest trees; and they hopped about, scanning their surroundings, and awaiting the visits of other little feathered inhabitants whose acquaintance they expected to make. In the meantime they gleaned various scraps of news from certain twitterings in the adjoining branches, some of which they clearly overheard.