CHAPTER XI.
IT was Lina. All at once Curdie recognised her—the frightful creature he had seen at the princess's. He dropped his pick-axe, and held out his hand. She crept nearer and nearer, and laid her chin in his palm, and he patted her ugly head. Then she crept away behind the tree, and lay down, panting hard. Curdie did not much like the idea of her being behind him. Horrible as she was to look at, she seemed to his mind more horrible when he was not looking at her. But he remembered the child's hand, and never thought of driving her away. Now and then he gave a glance behind him, and there she lay flat, with her eyes closed and her terrible teeth gleaming between her two huge fore-paws.
After his supper and his long day's journey it was no wonder Curdie should now be sleepy. Since the sun
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