The Little Old Woman made a low bow to the Jackdaw.
THE MAGIC BASKET
On and on they went, the jackdaw hopping over the rough fields, and now and then turning his head and winking his fiery eyes at Ned, until they found themselves at the foot of a high, round hill.
At one side of the great mound the stream which they had been following suddenly stopped short, making a deep well, over which hung an old oak tree, leafless now, but still strewing the ground with dry acorns.
Right at the foot of this tree was an upright gray stone, apparently part of a rock deeply sunk in the hillside. Beside this stone the jackdaw paused, and, turning to nod reassuringly at Ned, picked up a pebble about the size of an acorn and dropped it into the well, at the same time knocking gently on the flat stone with his bill.
In a moment the rock opened in the middle, and there stood a little old woman, as withered as a spring apple and as bright as a butterfly, dressed in a scarlet bodice covered with spangles and a black petticoat worked in square characters with all the colors of the rainbow.
Ned thought she was not nearly as attractive as the fairies whom he had but lately left, although she had on more colors than even the Queen Fairy.
On seeing the jackdaw she made a low bow, and in a shrill eager voice invited them in. Ned hesitated, but the little old woman snatched his hand and pulled him in, asking in a whisper, "Dost thou fear for thyself when visiting the King of the Gnomes?"