“I believe the joke has killed him—it’s a very old one,” said Coppertop. But she was sorry afterwards, as the poor Bird looked so very crestfallen.
“We’ll soon see!” he cried. And flying down, he perched upon the crocodile’s eyelid and pecked at it.
But it never flickered.
“Dead! Dead as a stone!” he remarked. And bursting into tears, he flew away, sadly twittering.
After he had gone, Coppertop sat wondering how she was to release Tibbs and Kiddiwee, when she saw a sharp-pointed stone lying near her feet.
“Why, it’s the very thing!” she exclaimed. “I’ll make a hole in the old reptile with this, and then they can crawl through.”
So saying, she set to work, and quickly removed a piece of his hard, leathery skin.
The hole was certainly not much larger than a penny, when to her surprise she saw the head and shoulders of Tibbs through the opening, and then Kiddiwee. The next moment they both flew out and rushed towards her, trying to throw their tiny arms round her neck.
Of course she was overjoyed to see them. But what had happened? They were no larger than dragon-flies.
Then she remembered all she had seen from Waomba’s arms—how the Mist Maidens had kissed them till they grew smaller and smaller and floated down like leaves on to the island.