"Of course they were," said the woodcock. "You're privileged, you know. _We_ all know it. And don't you mind the dogs, my dear. They are good creatures, but they and their forbears have lived so long with humans that they have forgotten most of the things we know. They are nearly as blind as humans now, saving your presence, my dear. And now what is it you want with me?" "I want to find the King of the Woodcock," said Fiona. "Bless your heart," said the bird, "and who do you suppose We are? You never saw a woodcock Our size before, did you?" And indeed Fiona never had; for he was as big as a young grouse. "Eighteen and a half ounces, if I'm a pennyweight," said the woodcock. "I am the heaviest king that we have ever had. Will you please put me down if you want to talk to me? It is hardly consonant with my royal dignity to be held. I shan't fly away; _noblesse oblige_, you know." So Fiona put him down, and he arranged himself like a bunch of feathers on the ground, his head well back between his shoulders and his beady black eyes looking all round him at once. "Why didn't Apollo find you?" asked Fiona. "No scent," said the woodcock, proudly. "I am not like a common bird. No dog can find a king woodcock; and no dog ever has. We can be beaten out of a wood, of course; my great-great-grandfather was shot like that when the family lived in Norfolk, many years ago. So we came up here to the open heather, and have been quite safe ever since. And now what do you want, my dear?" "I was told you could let me into Fairyland," said Fiona. "I can let you in by the back door," the bird said. "But are you really going to Fairyland? You'll need some courage, you know, if you are going the back way." "Is there another way?" asked Fiona. "There's the front door, of course," said the bird. "But no one can go that way without an invitation. Have you an invitation?" "No," said Fiona. "A pity," said the woodcock. "There is no danger that way. But without an invitation you could not even find the door. As it is, you'll have to go in by the back way and take your risks." "I have to go, whatever they are," said Fiona. "_Noblesse oblige_," said the woodcock. "Quite so, quite so. Have you been told about the wish?" "Yes," said Fiona. "I know about that." "The other thing," continued the bird, "is that you must stick to the main path. Remember that. You must not turn out of it for any reason of any kind. You'll see lots of side paths, and you'll see other things too; but if you once leave the main path by so much as one step you'll never get home again. There are no short cuts to Fairyland." "Thank you so much," said Fiona. "But how shall I know the main path?" With his long bill the woodcock tweaked the point feather out of one of his wings and gave it to her.