'No, no,'answered Curdie.

'It's no matter if he does,' said another, 'for he'll only have to
make a new one.'

'Yes: but he mightn't be able to make it fast enough,' said
another; 'and while it was cooking in his head, they might take a
mean advantage and set upon him.'

'I'll do my best,' said Curdie. 'I'm not afraid.'
'We all know that,' they returned, and left him.



CHAPTER 8
The Goblins


For some time Curdie worked away briskly, throwing all the ore he
had disengaged on one side behind him, to be ready for carrying out
in the morning. He heard a good deal of goblin-tapping, but it all
sounded far away in the hill, and he paid it little heed. Towards
midnight he began to feel rather hungry; so he dropped his pickaxe,
got out a lump of bread which in the morning he had laid in a damp
hole in the rock, sat down on a heap of ore, and ate his supper.
Then he leaned back for five minutes' rest before beginning his
work again, and laid his head against the rock. He had not kept
the position for one minute before he heard something which made
him sharpen his ears. It sounded like a voice inside the rock.