They looked at the Little Villager where he sat holding a half-nibbled grass stem between his paws.

They snapped their beaks once more, with angry decision, and with two or three awkward, scuttling steps, like a parrot walking on the floor of his cage, they plunged down, quite uninvited, into the burrow.
"The Little Villager sat just where he was for perhaps half a minute, barking with indignation.

Then he followed the impertinent visitors.
As he entered he heard a confused sound of shrill, angry chattering, explosive hissing, and savage snapping of beaks.

Being able to see quite comfortably in the gloom, he distinguished his companion, the lady villager who was at that time occupying the burrow with him, doing her best to make the visitors understand that they were not welcome.
Her language might have seemed clear enough.

She made little rushes at them with open mouth and gnashing teeth, and her tones were just as unpleasant as she knew how to make them.