"Songs are but songs, Mulla-mulgar," she answered. "It is sad seeing only my own small loneliness in the water. Would not the Mulgar himself weary with only staring fish for company?"
"Are there, then, no other Water-middens in the river?" said Nod.
"Have you, then, seen any beside me?"
"None," said Nod.
The Water-midden turned away and stooped over the water. "Tell me," she said, "why does the Queen Tishnar guard so closely you?"
"I am a Nizza-neela, Midden—Mulla-mulgar Ummanodda Nizza-neela Eengenares—that is what I am called, speaking altogether. Other names, too, I have, of course, mocking me. Who is there wise that was not once foolish?"
"A Nizza-neela!" said the Midden, leaning back and glancing slyly out of her dark eyes.
"Oh yes," said Nod gravely; "but besides that I carry with me...."
"Oh, only the Wonderstone," said Nod.