Poor little Loon.

Poor brave little Loon.

She was thrown up, up, up higher than she had ever been before in her life, and then, dazed and only half alive, she fell down, down, down, landing in a heap on the ground with her poor neck stretched so long and thin her own friends could hardly recognize her.

When she tried to sing, only a sad noise came from her poor ruined vocal cords.

"This is terrible!" Raven exploded. "This is just terrible."

Raven hadn't been too upset when Deer lost his horns. She hadn't been upset at all-in fact she thought it was rather funny - when Bear lost the wrestling match. But to treat a little black bird so badly was something else altogether.

"This," said Raven "is not to be endured!" And Raven started off to where poor Mole was waiting beside the hole she had dug.

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