Those roars of rage and anger so frightened the people living in the villages in the neighbourhood of the common that they shook in their beds, and as for the little Piskey, he was so terrified by what he had heard and seen that he tumbled over the hillock up which he had climbed to get into the Giant’s ear.
When he had picked himself up, Giant Tregeagle was flying away like an evil bird towards the south.
The dawn broke soon after the Giant had gone, and as Piskeys always hide by day, he hid himself under a clump of tamarisk, and stayed there till the dark and the stars came again. When he came out he remembered what the Giant had said—that perhaps his cousins, the Night-riders, had seen his laugh. The moon being several days older than when the kind little Lantern Man had taken him to Dozmare Pool, it was now shining brightly over the common, and he knew if the Night-riders were in the neighbourhood of the sand-hills they would soon be riding over the common.
‘Night-riders, Night-riders, please stop!’
As he was gazing about with wistful eyes a young colt came galloping along with scores of little Night-riders astride his back, and as many more hanging on to his mane and tail.
The Night-riders, who were little people no bigger than Piskeys, and quite as mischievous, had taken the colt from a farmer’s stable close to the common, and were enjoying their stolen ride as only Night-riders could.
As they and the colt drew near, the little Piskey stood out in the moonshine and shouted:
‘Night-riders, Night-riders, please stop! I want to ask you something.’
But the little Night-riders were enjoying their gallop too much to listen or stop, and they flew by like the wind.