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spirits - lots of them - swarming up out of the earth and flying about like sparks. Of course I had to go a roundabout way to get past the volcano. It was hot too, so I went as fast as my stilts would carry me. Half-way down the mountain I came across a little stream and lay down to drink. (The water wasn't boiling in that stream, you see.) And then one of the little fire spirits floated down and fell into the water. He was nearly extinguished, but just had enough strength to cry out to me to save him.'
    'And did you?' asked Sniff.
    'Oh, yes. I had nothing against the creature,' said Snufkin. 'But I burnt myself on him you know. Well, there he was on dry land again, and presently he began to flare up to his normal state. He was very grateful of course, and gave me a present before he flew away.'
    'What was it?' asked Sniff, in great excitement.
    'A bottle of underground sun-oil,' answered Snufkin.



'It's what the fire spirits rub on to themselves when they go right down into the burning heart of the earth.'
    'And can you go through fire when you've got this oil on?' asked Sniff, his eyes popping out with amazement.
    'Of course you can,' Snufkin answered.
    'But why didn't you say so before?' cried Moomintroll. 'Now we can all be saved. When the comet comes we just...'
    'But I've got hardly any left,' said Snufkin sadly. 'I used most of it up on a couple of trips into the desert, and then saving things from a house on fire. I didn't know... There's only a little drop left in the bottle.'
    'Perhaps there's enough for a little animal of, say, my size?' said Sniff.
    Snufkin looked at him. 'Perhaps,' he said. 'But hardly for your tail as well. That will have to go.'
    'Oh, help!' exclaimed Sniff. 'Then I'd rather be shrivelled right up.'
    But Snufkin wasn't listening. He sat with wrinkled brow looking at the river. 'Listen,' he said, 'have you noticed anything different?'
    'The river has a new sound,' said Sniff.
    It was true. There was a dreadful roaring, and the water eddied and swirled between the rocky shores.
    'Take down the sail,' ordered Snufkin, going forward to keep a look-out. The river was tearing along faster than ever like a person who has been out on a long journey and suddenly notices that he is late getting home for supper. The banks closed in, squeezing the foaming water into a narrow trough, and the rocks towered over them higher and steeper than ever.
    'Wouldn't it be better to land?' screamed Sniff above the noise of the water.
    'It's too late now,' Moomintroll screamed back. 'We must just go on till it gets calmer.'
    But it didn't get calmer. They rushed wildly through the Lonely Mountains whose wet black walls closed in on either side, and the strip of sky above got narrower and narrower.
    Somewhere in front of them there was a threatening rumble. 'We're going down-hill!' shouted Snufkin. 'Hold tight!'

    They all held on to the mast and shut their eyes. There was a crash, a roar and a shower of spray.... Then all was quiet - they had cleared the waterfall.
    'Well, strike me pink!' exclaimed Moomintroll.
    It was quite dark all round them, except for patches of white-green foam, and when their eyes got used to the darkness they saw that the mountain walls had closed over them completely - they were in a tunnel!
    The tunnel stretched away in front of them getting smaller and smaller; it was like a nightmare, and though the water was calmer now it was terribly dark.
    'This wasn't the idea exactly,' said Moomintroll. 'We seem to be going right down into the earth, instead of up to the top of the mountains.'
    They all realized the truth of this and sat for a time in gloomy silence. Then Snufkin said:
    'You could write a poem about this. What about:
    Floating on this eerie water,
Far away from bricks and mortar,'
    'Saw a mermaid - didn't caught her,' suggested Sniff, blowing his nose.
    'That's not true, not grammar, and it doesn't even rhyme properly,' said Snufkin, and the subject dropped.
    The tunnel curved once