Now the three children had not realised before that they had made many friends in Make Believe Land, and the thought surprised and pleased them more than they would have believed possible. There was a little warm glow around each of their hearts, and they looked up at little Bizzybuzz gratefully. “Thank you for telling us that, Bizzybuzz,” said Bab, shyly. “Telling you!” laughed Bizzybuzz. “You will not need to be told it pretty soon!” Once more the Red City horses seemed to be gaining upon them. Suddenly two huge owls flew out of the depths of the forest and began to flap around the heads of the galloping horses. “Who are they?” cried Meg, excitedly. “Two of your friends,” returned the Goblin. “Is one Moon-Eyes?” asked Dick. Bizzybuzz nodded. “And the other,” he said, “is the Tail-less One, the Owl Innkeeper!” “Oh, how nice of them both!” cried Bab. “They won’t hurt the horses, will they?” “Oh, dear, no!” said Bizzybuzz. “But they may succeed in driving at least one of them back.” And indeed that is just what they did. One of the horses shied, and reared, and finally wheeled straight about. The man fell off, and, though he was not at all hurt, was so angry that he almost had a fit. He stood in the centre of the path and shook his fist at the trees on each side of him, as though he suspected them of having had something to do with it. The horse, with the owls after it, was running home to the Red City as fast as it could possibly go. The second rider had not stopped to see whether his comrade had been killed or not, and was riding after the sleigh faster than ever. “I wonder what will happen to _him_,” said Meg. “Ah, little Miss Meg!” said Bizzybuzz. “You are beginning to trust your friends!” “Yes,” said Meg, with a sigh. “But really I didn’t think I should ever trust anyone again, after the horrid time I had with Grump!” “Hollo!” exclaimed Bizzybuzz. “There’s Green-Wings, the Dragon-Fly!” The big insect came humming into the sleigh, and perched on the dash-board. “How are you all?” he asked. “All right. Have you any news worth hearing?” said Bizzybuzz. “Well, I’ve just come from the Palace of the Wicked King. You know I like to lunch upon the green flowers that grow on that big tree under the Princess’s window. I was sitting happily on one of the lower branches, when a snail came crawling along the limb toward me.” He paused impressively. “Well, what of that?” said Bizzybuzz, impatiently. “There are many snails.” “Not many like this one. The snail seemed lonely, and though I hate all snails, I could not refuse to talk to it when it sat itself down beside me. It talked a great deal of nonsense at first,—all about its departed glory, and how it hated the Wicked King, and stuff of that sort. But finally it told me who it was, or rather, who it had been before it became a snail. It was Grump!” Of course, this does not surprise _you_, for you have known it all along, but it surprised the children tremendously.