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WONDER TALES FROM TIBET

little witch woman! She is wounded and will fly right to her lair. Come with me, quick, and follow her!" So the four dashed out of the hut and after the old witch as fast as they could go. She flew low in the sky like a great bird, and every now and then a drop of black blood fell to the ground from the wound in her head. At first she flew so fast that Massang, with the other three behind him, had great difficulty in keeping up with her, but after awhile she began to waver and fly unevenly. By this time the four found themselves running over a barren stretch of land, very rough and uneven, and they stumbled and fell more than once, but as the flight of the witch became ever slower, they managed to keep her in sight. At last they saw her fall to the ground and lie quite still, and running up to her, they found she was dead.

"An evil old witch," said Massang, "yet I meant not to kill her—only to wound and drive her away."