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or twice, getting even narrower and darker, and now and then the raft bumped against the walls. They picked up their rucksacks and waited. Once more there was a bump and this time the mast was knocked down.
    'Snufkin,' said Moomintroll in a very small voice, 'you know what that means, don't you?'
    The vault above them had become lower - or else the water had risen. Very soon it would completely fill the tunnel.
    'Throw the mast overboard!' shouted Snufkin, grabbing his precious flag.' It's no use now.'
    There was another long silent wait.
    It had begun to be a little lighter, and they could distinguish each other's white faces.
    Suddenly Sniff shouted: 'Oh! My ears touched the roof!' and threw himself flat with a frantic squeak.
    'What will mamma say,' said Moomintroll, 'if we never come home again?'
    Just then the raft stopped with a thud, and they all fell together in a heap.
    'We've run aground,' screamed Sniff.
    Snufkin leaned over the edge and looked.
    'The mast is holding us,' he said. 'It's lying across the tunnel.'
    'Look what we've escaped!' said Moomintroll in a shaky voice.
    Just in front of them the river disappeared with a gurgle down a black hole straight into the earth!
    'I've just about had enough of voyages of discovery,' said Sniff plaintively. 'I want to go home! I suppose we'll have to sit here all our lives playing poker...'
    'You silly little animal,' said Snufkin, 'grumbling just when we're going to be saved by nothing less than a miracle. Look up there!'
    Sniff looked and saw, through a crack in the rock above them, a small patch of cloudy sky.
    'Well, I'm not a bird,' he said gloomily, 'and what's more, I get dizzy fits (that's because I had inflammation of the ears when I was very young). So how could I ever get up there?'
    But Snufkin took out his mouth-organ and played his gayest adventure-song (not just-the-right-sized adventure, but a terrific one) about rescues and surprises and sunshine. Moomintroll started to whistle the refrain (he couldn't sing, but he could whistle beautifully), and in the end Sniff had to join in too with his falsetto squeak. It was a bit out of tune, but fairly cheerful. Their song echoed in the tunnel and up through the crack in the roof, until it woke a Hemulen who was asleep up above, with his butterfly-net beside him.
    'Whatever's that?' gasped the Hemulen with a start. He looked into his jar, where all the small creatures he had caught were imprisoned, but the insects hadn't made the noise.
    It came straight out of the ground.
    'Remarkable!' said the Hemulen and lay down flat to listen. 'There must be some rare caterpillar that makes that noise. I must find it.'
    And he began creeping around snuffing and sniffing with his large nose, until he reached the hole in the ground where

    the noise was loudest of all. He stuck his nose in as far as possible but couldn't see anything in the dark. However, the party down below saw his shadow across the light, and their song changed to a wild yell.
    'Those caterpillars must have gone off their heads,' the Hemulen said to himself, pushing his net down the hole.
    Of course Moomintroll and the others didn't waste much time in jumping into it with their belongings, and when the Hemulen hauled up his heavy load and shook it out he was amazed to see three such odd creatures blinking in the daylight. ' Most extraordinary!' he remarked.
    'Thank you very much,' said Moomintroll, who pulled himself together first. 'You saved us in the nick of time.'
    'Have I saved you?' asked the Hemulen in surprise. 'I didn't mean to. I was looking for the caterpillars that were making such a noise down there.' (Hemulens are generally a bit slow in grasping an idea, but they are very pleasant if you don't annoy them.)
    'Are we in the Lonely Mountains now?' asked Sniff.
    'I've no idea,' said the Hemulen, 'but there are plenty of interesting moths.'
    'I think it must be the Lonely Mountains,' said Snufkin, gazing at the massive piles of rock, endless,