and dragons and dwarfs do! And then there's that story about
Pontius Pilate. You know our old Mount Pilatus was named that
because they say his body was thrown into one of its lakes, and
his spirit haunts the mountain. He only comes out once a year,
but oh, Seppi, suppose this should be the time!"

"Huh!" said Seppi scornfully. "Girls' talk! Of course I don't
believe such things; besides, he only comes out on Good Friday,
anyway!"

"Well," said Leneli, "lots of people do believe them, even grown-
up people."

"Pooh," said Seppi, and just to show that he didn't care at all
about such idle tales he began to whistle; but Leneli noticed
that he too looked behind him now and then.

It grew more and more difficult to find the way, for there were
openings between the trees that looked like paths and the true
path wound in and out, and came near losing itself entirely among
the rocks. The brown needles covered the ground in every
direction, so the pass was no different in color from the rest of
the forest floor. When they looked behind them or peered
fearfully under the spruce boughs for dwarfs or giants, of course
they were not watching the trail carefully, and so, when suddenly
there was a loud whirring noise above the trees and a great bird
flew almost over their heads, they were so startled they just ran
without noticing which way they were going. Bello was startled
too, and began to bark. This started the goats, and before you
could say "Jack Robinson" children, dog, goats, and all were