“Well — so that’s that,” he said. “Just a bit of spite on the part of the fair-folk, I suppose — punishing us for what those horrid kids did to the canaries. I must say it was a shame to open those cages — half the poor little creatures must have died. I don’t like birds put in cages — but as canaries can’t live in this country unless they are looked after, it’s cruel to let them go loose, and starve.”

“I agree with you,” said Dick. They were now walking down the hillside to a gap in the hedge through which the vans must have been pulled up the hill. George and Anne would be most relieved to hear they had found the caravans!

Julian gave a whistle, and George answered it at once. “We’re still here, Julian! What’s happened?”

“We’ve got the caravans,” shouted back Julian, cheerily. “They’re in this field.”

The girls joined them at once, most surprised to hear this news. Julian explained.

“The fair-folk really have got a hate on against children,” he said. “Apparently they had a canary-man, whose show consisted of singing canaries — and some kids set all the birds loose one night — so half of them died. And now the fair-folk won’t have children anywhere near them.”

“I suppose the snake-man is afraid of us setting his snakes loose,” said Dick, with a chuckle. “Well, thank goodness we’ve found the vans. I had a feeling we might have to sleep in a hay-stack tonight!”

“I wouldn’t have minded that,” said George. “I like hay-stacks.”

“We’ll light a fire and cook something,” said Julian. “I feel hungry after all this upset.”

“I don’t,” said Anne. “I hate feeling that the fair-folk won’t be friends. It’s silly of them. We’re not used to that.”

“Yes — but they’re rather like children themselves,” said Julian. “Somebody does something unkind to them, so they get sulky, and wait for a chance to hit back — and then someone set the police on them, too, don’t forget — they’re very touchy at the moment, I imagine.”

“Well, it’s a pity,” said George, watching Dick light a camp-fire very efficiently. “I was looking forward to having a good time with them. Do you suppose the farmer will mind us being here?”

“Oh — I never thought of that,” said Julian. “This may not be a camping field. I hope to goodness we don’t have an angry farmer shouting at us tomorrow!”

“And, oh dear, we are so far away from the stream now,” said Anne. “It’s on the other side of the field where we were — and we do badly want water.”

“We’ll have to do without it tonight,” said Dick, firmly. “I don’t want the top of my hair taken off by Bufflo, or a rope tying up my legs, thrown by the rope-man, or a snake wriggling after me. I bet those fair-folk will be on the watch for us to fetch water. This is all very silly.”