The skyle itself was rocky and barren and there seemed to be no farms, buildings nor industries of any kind. "What do you do here for a living?" asked Notta, turning to the Un beside him.
"Fish, mostly," said the Un.
"What for?" asked the Cowardly Lion, treading on Notta's heels in his eagerness to hear.
"Birds," sniffed the Un, looking over his shoulder scornfully. "What did you think we'd fish for?"
"Oh, but you couldn't fish for birds," objected Bob Up, stopping short, while Notta burst into a loud roar of laughter. The Un glared at all three.
"The air's full of 'em," he announced sharply, and then, as the clown continued to laugh immoderately, his feathers began to ruffle with rage.
"You're idiots!" he screamed, thrusting his sharp beak almost in Notta's face. "Idiots!" echoed all the other Uns immediately. Several trod on the clown's toes and, seeing that Bob was rather pale, Notta hastily changed the subject. Not long after that they came to the palace. To Bob it looked like a huge barn stuck between four trees. It was about ten feet from the ground and from the top of each tree fluttered a bright yellow flag bearing the word, UN.
The Cowardly Lion trembled a good deal as they went up the rickety green ladder, but with a little help from Notta he managed it, and next instant they were in the presence of the King.
"Two creatures and a beast, your Skyness!" announced the leader of the delegation. Then stepping close to Notta he shouted at the top of his voice, "His Majesty, I-wish-I-was, King of Un!" Notta's cap fell off and he clapped his hand to his ear. The Cowardly Lion made a little spring at the Un and had the pleasure of seeing the King's feathers rise erect upon his head and wave to and fro.
"Approach, creatures and beast," commanded I-wish-I-was in a slightly shaky voice. He was sitting on a high wooden perch, swinging his feet. Grouped about him were a number of Uns in bright green uniforms that exactly matched their feather hair. Notta made a deep bow and Bob and the Cowardly Lion moved forward together.
"How did you come to come here?" asked I-wish-I-was, adjusting a pair of huge spectacles on his terrible beak.
"We didn't come to come at all," said Notta hastily. "We were standing under a tree, watching it knit—a very strange sight, your Skyness will agree."
"Why shouldn't it knit?" snapped the King impatiently. "There's no law against it, is there? In fact, if it were not for that tree, we'd be in a pretty state for fishing nets."
"Well, we were caught in the tree's net, the net flew up and here we are," finished Notta, determined not to quarrel if he could help it.
"A mighty poor catch, I call you," muttered the King complainingly. He turned to his guard to see whether they agreed with him and they all nodded so hard it made Bob dizzy.
"Are you willing to become Uns?" he asked gloomily.
"I'll not grow feathers for anybody," growled the Cowardly Lion, shaking his paw at I-wish-I-was.
"Wait till you've tried," answered the King loftily. "But what I mean is this: Each of you must do something unish, for we are all Uns here. I'm unfair—any Un will tell you that. Bill, there," he pointed proudly to the commander of the Guard, "Bill, he's ungrateful." Then he waved to the Un beside him. "And Tom's unkind. See what I mean? We're all Uns together." The King rubbed his clawlike hands gleefully.
"But I never heard of such a place!" gasped Notta.
"Of course not! Un's positively unheard of," confided the King, smoothing back his feathers complacently. Bob's eyes grew rounder and rounder, Notta swallowed, and the Cowardly Lion tilted one ear forward to be sure he was hearing aright.
"Why, you're Uns already," said I-wish-I-was, with a mean little chuckle.
"You," he pointed his long thin finger at Notta, "are unnatural. You," he pointed to the Cowardly Lion, "are unpleasant. And you," he wiggled his finger teasingly at Bob, "you're uninteresting!"
"Thanks!" said the clown, taking off his cap.
"And besides that," cried I-wish-I-was, his voice rising to a shrill squeak, "you're all uninvited."
"And bound to be unlucky," gurgled Bill of the Guard.
"And terribly unhappy," squealed another, dancing up and down.
"And terrifically uncomfortable," added a third. Hereupon the Uns began hopping frantically about, each shouting something unish, till Bob covered his ears and the Cowardly Lion began to lash his tail with fury.
"Stop! Stop!" shouted the clown, stamping his foot. "I believe this is the unpleasantest island I've ever been on." Loud cheers from the Uns interrupted him here. "And if you will tell us the way off we'll go at once."
I-wish-I-was raised his claw for silence, pulled a pad from his pocket, a long feather quill from his head and, dipping it in ink, wrote something in a great hurry. This he handed to the Commander of the Guard and Notta looking over his shoulder read, "Push them off at the first opportunity." The Guard, not knowing that the clown had read the message, bowed and began whispering to his comrades, while Notta scratched his ear and wondered what he should do.
"Could your Skyness give us a bite to eat?" he asked presently. That, he reflected, would give him time to think.
"Certainly not," answered the King, snapping his birdlike eyes. "If you're hungry, go fish, the same as the rest of us do. Bill, give them some rods." He winked wickedly at the green guardsman. Notta saw him make a little push in the air. Bill with a chuckle winked back; then brought three rods and reels and handed them to the clown.
"Oh!" cried Bob Up, "I'd love to go fishing!"
"Where do you fish around here?" asked Notta, wrinkling up his forehead.
"Just go to the edge of the skyle and drop your line over," said the King, and nudged the Un nearest him. At this all the Uns began nudging and winking first one eye and then the other.
"Come on," whispered Notta and, tucking the rods under his arm, ran toward the door. The Cowardly Lion, in his haste to follow, fell all the way down the ladder, but at a quick word from Notta jumped up, and as Bob joined them they all started on a run for a little clump of trees. "I tell you," puffed the clown, pausing at length to mop his brow, "they are bad Uns, sure enough. They mean to push us off the skyle. That's why they sent us fishing."
"Just let 'em try it!" roared the Cowardly Lion, shaking his mane. He had skinned his knees in his fall down the ladder and was feeling quite ready for a battle.
"But shall we go fishing or not?" asked the clown uncertainly. Bob Up said nothing, but he looked wistfully at the fishing rods. Bob had never been fishing in his life, and even the thought of being pushed off the skyle did not seem as dreadful as being deprived of this pleasure. Notta saw the look.
"I'm hungry as a lion," said the clown suddenly, "and we've lost Mustafa's packets somewhere between Oz and Un."
"Well, you're not as hungry as this lion," rumbled the Cowardly Lion, with a wink at Bob. "It must be long past noon. Let's risk it. You fish and I'll watch, and if any of these Uns start pushing us—." The Cowardly Lion gave a roar and shook his paw threateningly at the palace of I-wish-I-was.
A Strange Fishing Party
To their surprise, none of the Uns followed them, and in about an hour they had come to the edge of the skyle. The Cowardly Lion shuddered as he looked down into the clear blue air, and even Notta had a queer feeling in the pit of his stomach as the white clouds went rolling and tumbling past them.
"Do you think we'll catch any birds, Notta?" asked Bob Up, venturing so near the edge that the Cowardly Lion gave a roar of terror. "Remember you're not a bird," he warned.
"I'll fix him," said Notta. Cutting the line from one of the rods he doubled it many times and fastened Bob securely to the tree. With what was left, he made a safety belt for himself. Then, while the Cowardly Lion shivered with fright, they sat upon the edge of the skyle and cast their lines far into the air below. "Now, Bob my lad, don't expect a bite too soon," said the clown, "for fishing is a mortal slow business, but a fine one for thinking, and all of us must think of a way to get off this island before we're pushed off by the Uns."
The Cowardly Lion, with his back to the two fishermen, kept a sharp lookout for the enemy, and all three tried to think. But thinking when you're hungry is hard work. Besides, there were so many things to distract one's attention. The sky, as the afternoon advanced, turned a soft and dreamy pink, and the clouds drifting by were of every shape and color imaginable—green, purple, amber and gold—and of such marvelous form that each seemed lovelier than the last. There were castles and tall masted ships, there were caravans and chariots, and once a white and wonderful Princess waved to the little boy from the back of a feathery swan. So it was small wonder Notta and Bob forgot the Uns, and even their fishing lines, blowing gently to and fro in the soft pink air waves. Then, all at once, Bob's line gave a jerk and had he not been tied to the tree he would certainly have been pulled off the skyle.
"Oh! Oh!" screamed the little boy in delight, "I've caught something!"
Giving his rod to the Cowardly Lion, who was blinking dreamily at a wonderful cloud city, the clown ran to help Bob, and hand over hand they pulled up the line. What do you suppose was on it? A goose—a simply enormous goose. It was smoking gently as they drew it over the edge.
"Why, it's cooked!" marveled Notta, unfastening the line which had caught in the bird's legs. And so it was—cooked in all its feathers with its head tucked under its wing.
"Aha, so our goose is cooked, is it?" observed the Cowardly Lion, sniffing the air hungrily. "Must have flown too near the sun."
"Well," chuckled Notta, "that I don't pretend to know. Fishing for birds is strange enough, but catching a cooked goose is almost too good to be true."
"But it is true," exulted Bob, clapping his hands, "and I caught it!" While the Cowardly Lion watched the two rods, and Bob proudly picked his goose, Notta ran off in search of water. In a few minutes he came running back with a bucket full which he had drawn from a small sky well. The bucket, one of the canvas collapsible kind used in circuses, the clown had fortunately stowed under his capacious belt. As neither meat nor drink was now lacking, they sat down under a small tree and dined quite merrily. The Cowardly Lion ate one half the goose, bones and all, and Notta and Bob finished off the rest.
"It looks," said the clown, rising to take a drink of water out of the bucket, which he hung on a branch of the tree, "it looks as if the Uns had forgotten us."
"Maybe," mused the lion, shaking his mane, "but we mustn't forget them. Have you thought of anything yet?"
"Not a thing," confessed the clown cheerfully. He turned a dozen cartwheels, walked a few paces on his hands, and ended up with a somersault over Bob. "You're a spry one," said the Cowardly Lion admiringly, as the clown sat down with his back against a tree, "as spry a one as I've ever met."
"Thank you," laughed Notta. "If thinking came as easily as cartwheeling we'd be off this skyle in no time. But now that we're fed and comfortable, suppose we think again."
"I'd rather fish," said Bob Up promptly. "Can't we fish a little longer, Notta?"
"Well, there's no harm in it," replied the clown, winking at the Cowardly Lion, "and as we'll probably have to spend the night here we may as well catch something for breakfast."
"Try to catch me something uncooked this time, won't you?" asked the Cowardly Lion, thumping his tail lazily on the ground. "You know I prefer my food uncooked." Bob smiled a little at this and, moving his rod gently to and fro, thought about the comical adventures he was having. Notta, with his back to the tree, was fishing too, and everything was very quiet. All around them the light was fading, and the clouds turned from pink to a dull gray and rushed past with an angry sort of sighing. Night was coming on, and soon the stars began to twinkle above and below the little skyland. Bob had never seen stars so large nor so bright, but then Bob had never been so close to them before. He was thinking rather solemnly that it would be fun to catch a star, when Notta, oppressed by the silence, burst into a merry song:
"A little chocolate cooky manWent calling on a plate.She said, 'Sir, it is ten o'clock!Why do you come so late?'"'Because I'm made that way,' said he,'My little china girly,I'm always choco-late, you see,So how could I come early?'"'And is it not, my darling,Better chocolate than never?'The wee plate cracked a little smile.'Oh, sir,' said she, 'you're clever!"'And you may call to-morrow—Even though you're choco-late!'But pshaw! He never came, becauseThat cooky man was ate!"
"A little chocolate cooky manWent calling on a plate.She said, 'Sir, it is ten o'clock!Why do you come so late?'
"A little chocolate cooky man
Went calling on a plate.
She said, 'Sir, it is ten o'clock!
Why do you come so late?'
"'Because I'm made that way,' said he,'My little china girly,I'm always choco-late, you see,So how could I come early?'
"'Because I'm made that way,' said he,
'My little china girly,
I'm always choco-late, you see,
So how could I come early?'
"'And is it not, my darling,Better chocolate than never?'The wee plate cracked a little smile.'Oh, sir,' said she, 'you're clever!
"'And is it not, my darling,
Better chocolate than never?'
The wee plate cracked a little smile.
'Oh, sir,' said she, 'you're clever!
"'And you may call to-morrow—Even though you're choco-late!'But pshaw! He never came, becauseThat cooky man was ate!"
"'And you may call to-morrow—
Even though you're choco-late!'
But pshaw! He never came, because
That cooky man was ate!"
Bob laughed right out loud, and Notta, who had been trying to make Bob merry, tossed his cap triumphantly into the air.
"Very good," murmured the Cowardly Lion, waving his tail gently, "except that last line. 'Was ate.' Isn't that a bit ungrammatical, even for Oz?"
"There you go getting unish," teased Notta. "I guess I can be ungrammatical in Un."
"Notta! Notta! I've got another bite," screamed Bob, hopping about on one foot. That finished the argument.
"Hope it's a bite for me," said the Cowardly Lion. Then he gave a little roar of surprise, for over the edge of the skyle came a dog—as dear and shaggy a little bow-wow as had ever barked at an ice man. The hook had caught neatly in its collar and, though it was a little out of breath, it was otherwise unhurt.
"Well," rumbled the Cowardly Lion, rising on his haunches, "so this is breakfast? Bob, what do you mean by catching a dog for my breakfast?"
"Oh, please," whimpered the dog, rolling its soft eyes in terror. "You wouldn't eat a little fellow who was only out for a walk, would you?" He sat up and begged so prettily Bob caught him up in his arms and hugged him. "Oh, Notta, may I keep him? I've never had a dog!"
"Well, now," said the clown, scratching his ear, "I don't see why not."
"Don't keep me," wailed the dog piteously, "for I belong to a little boy on another star, and he would miss me very much."
"What kind of a dog are you?" gasped the clown, staring at the little creature. "What do you mean by taking a walk through the sky, and living on a star?"
"I am a skye terrier," answered the little dog, looking anxiously from one to the other. "You wouldn't hurt a little fellow like me, would you?"
"But how will you get home?" asked Notta.
"Just throw me back into the air," barked the dog, and licked Bob on the nose so coaxingly he couldn't bear to refuse, though his heart was heavy at the thought of losing him.
"I guess that other little boy would miss you," sighed Bob. So, kissing the shaggy little terrier right on the nose, he dropped him gently over the edge of the skyle, and as they watched he scampered hurriedly over a cloud and then along through the sky, as easily as if he had been on land instead of air. He paused once and looked over his shoulder, then with a joyful bark and wave of his tail ran off, vanishing like a speck in the distance. Notta, seeing that Bob was down-hearted at losing the little fellow, suggested that they start fishing again. "Who knows what we may catch this time?" exclaimed the clown, pushing back his cap, and snapping his line energetically.
Almost at once both lines became taut, and when they were drawn up, two shiny silver packages fell from the slender hooks. "Dreams for a little boy," said a small label on Bob's package. "Dreams for a big boy," said the label on Notta's package.
With trembling fingers they untied the silver ribbons, and had no sooner done so than Bob drooped gently against Notta, and the clown fell back against a tree. In another second both were fast asleep—dreaming the lovely stories they had caught in the sky.
It happened so quickly that the Cowardly Lion was completely taken by surprise. He sniffed the silver papers. "Dreams," read the Cowardly Lion by the light of the stars. "Well, I guess they're regular sleeping powders. It's a good thing I didn't catch a dream, for somebody must stay awake and keep guard." The big beast yawned and stretched, then carefully dragging Bob and Notta back from the edge of the skyle, set himself to keep the watch while they slept.
He was terribly sleepy himself and keeping awake was a hard fight, but the Cowardly Lion knew that the lives of these two mortals depended upon him, so he walked up and down, and down and up the edge of the Skyland, and presently he heard a sound that made him quake with terror. Footsteps in the woods! Hundreds of them—coming nearer every minute!
Uns about to attack the Cowardly Lion, Notta and Bob Up
Uns about to attack the Cowardly Lion, Notta and Bob Up
Uns about to attack the Cowardly Lion, Notta and Bob Up
"The Uns," choked the Cowardly Lion, and hesitated between waking Notta and Bob, or advancing to meet the enemy. Before he could make up his mind, a whole party, their feathers gleaming strangely in the moonlight, burst out of the trees.
"Push 'em off! Shove 'em off!" screamed the leader, waving on the rest. It was I-wish-I-was, and in little hops and springs they came tumbling toward him.
With a roar that sounded more terrible than anything you could imagine, because it was mostly made up of terror, the Cowardly Lion sprang straight at them. Down went I-wish-I-was and a dozen of his warriors. Shaking and quaking with fear, the Cowardly Lion made quick springs and snatches, and when the Uns with little screams of rage, drew back, his mouth was full of feathers. But they were far from giving up and after a brief parley came on again. Once more the Cowardly Lion struck out, left and right. This time two dozen more were down, but the Cowardly Lion was slowly being forced toward Notta and Bob, and the treacherous edge of the Skyle.
Armed with feathered sticks and screaming horribly, the Uns came on a third time, and though the Cowardly Lion fought them with might, mane, claw, tooth and nail, he was almost smothered by the attack. Something of the alarm made the clown stir in his sleep, and the triumphant shout of I-wish-I-was brought him wide awake. He sat up just in time to see the Cowardly Lion go down under a perfect wave of Uns.
"Help! Help!" screamed Notta, but there was no one to help them. He made a little dash to the left, but the line that tied him to the tree caught him with a jerk. He made a little dash to the right, spun around and clasped his stomach in despair. Just then the Cowardly Lion, growling like a whole menagerie, shook off the mass of Uns and bounded to his side. Feathers were strewn in every direction, and a hundred of the Uns lay where they had fallen.
The poor Cowardly Lion was shaking with exhaustion and fright, but never thought of giving up, and when the Uns made another rush, he met them as valiantly as ever. Wild screams from the Featherheads in the rear made him pause and look over in alarm at Notta. The clown, with staring eyes, was mumbling continuously under his breath, and touching first one and then another of the crowd swarming around him, and each time he touched an Un, the Un disappeared.
The Cowardly Lion stopped fighting and sat down with a thud. The Uns stopped fighting, and those in front began to tread on the toes of the ones in back, in their anxiety to get away. When twenty had vanished in as many seconds, the rest ran howling to the woods.
"Well," panted the Cowardly Lion, rolling his eyes wildly at Notta.
"You saved my life, old fellow," cried the clown, giving him an impulsive hug.
"And you saved mine," gasped the lion, as soon as he had breath enough to gasp. "But how did you do it and where are they?"
"In Mudge," explained the clown, drawing his knees up to his chin and winking at the Cowardly Lion, "in Mudge and scaring the life out of Mustafa, I'll wager. Remember the magic verse that brought us here? Well, every time an Un came near I said:
"Udge! Budge!Go to Mudge!Udger budger,You're a Mudger!"
"Udge! Budge!Go to Mudge!Udger budger,You're a Mudger!"
"Udge! Budge!
Go to Mudge!
Udger budger,
You're a Mudger!"
"Marvelous!" sighed the Cowardly Lion. "But how did you think of it so quick?"
"I had to," replied Notta modestly. "You see, when there's nothing else to do I think, and not thinking very often makes me do it rather well. But do you suppose the other Uns will come back?"
The Cowardly Lion shook his head. "Not in an 'undred years," he yawned. "And now that they are good and frightened let's all get some sleep."
The Cowardly Lion was bruised and ruffled, and so tired he could not keep his eyes open another minute. Stretching himself beside Bob, who had not even heard the battle, he fell instantly into a heavy slumber. Notta, lying on the other side of the little boy, was soon enjoying the rest of the dreams in his silver package.
Towards morning faint cries aroused the Cowardly Lion. Though only half awake he sprang up blinking his eyes nervously. Then he gave a howl of dismay, for Notta and Bob were nowhere to be seen!
Saved by a Flyaboutabus
Groaning because he had been foolish enough to trust the Uns, the Cowardly Lion ran up and down the edge of the skyle. There was no doubt about it, Bob and Notta had been pushed off while he was asleep. Then a tree, jutting far over the edge, attracted his attention. It was swaying and trembling in a most unusual fashion. At the same time the faint cries that had awakened him were repeated. With a frightened gulp, the lion saw the two fishing lines tied to the tree and, winding his tail firmly around the slim trunk, began pulling up the first of the lines. It was hard work and two or three times he was almost drawn over the edge, but he never hesitated, and presently he had dragged Notta safely back to land. The clown waved his hands feebly, then lay on his stomach and panted like a fish. Without waiting to restore him, the Cowardly Lion began to pull up the other line, and presently Bob, also breathless and panting, lay beside the clown. They were not only breathless, but quite wet—having fallen into a cloud. The lion, puffing a little himself, watched anxiously. Notta, with a long and final gasp, sat up and gave a little sigh of relief.
"That makes the second time you've saved my life," said Notta faintly.
"What happened?" asked the Cowardly Lion.
"Well, first," said the clown, talking in little jerks and pausing every few minutes to pat Bob on the back, "first, I fell asleep, then, I fell awake. And if it hadn't been for these disguises I should have been cut in two."
"The Uns?" asked the lion, opening his eyes very wide.
"Yes," said Notta, and told how the Featherheads had pushed both Bob and himself from the skyle and, without stopping to notice that they were tied or to touch the Cowardly Lion, had run off without making a sound. "It was a mighty good thing we were anchored, eh, Bob, my boy? Feel better?"
Bob shook his head uncertainly, for he was still frightened and dizzy from swinging through the air.
The stars had faded out and the sun had not yet risen and in the cold gray mist of early morning the three huddled together and tried to think what to do.
"First, let's get away from the edge," shuddered the Cowardly Lion. Cutting the fishing lines that had saved their lives, Notta set Bob on the Cowardly Lion's back and they moved slowly in the half darkness toward the center of the skyle. The Uns evidently had gone off to their homes, and with some matches Notta had tucked under his wonderful belt they kindled a little fire and soon were dry and much more cheerful. Bob immediately went to sleep, but Notta and the Cowardly Lion kept watch.
For an hour there was not a sound. Then the noise of someone sawing wood came distinctly through the still air. Leaving the Cowardly Lion on guard, Notta went to investigate. He tiptoed along quietly, resolved if it were an Un to wish him away to Mudge. As he advanced the sawing grew louder and louder and, peering around a large tree, he saw a huge and ridiculous bird flopped over against a rock, snoring at a great rate.
As Notta looked the bird opened one eye, stamped its big claws fretfully, and immediately fell to snoring again. The clown took off his cap, scratched his ear and then burst into a loud peal of laughter, which he could not have helped had he died the next minute. The bird stopped snoring instantly, and opened both eyes.
"What do you mean by waking me when I was sound asleep," it chirped crossly.
"A great many sounds of sleep," corrected Notta, winking at the singular creature. "I thought someone was sawing down a tree."
"Did you?" The bird looked rather proud and began to puff out its feathers. "I'm the loudest snorer in the sky," it announced, strutting about self-consciously. "That's why my beak curls in this convenient fashion."
It was the bird's beak that had made Notta laugh in the first place. It was long and blue, and curved so that it could fit over the comical creature's ear like a personal telephone connection.
"But why does it curl?" asked Notta, sitting down and staring at the bird intently.
"So I can hear myself snore," replied the bird. "As soon as I snore in my own ear I wake up and stop snoring." With its claw the Snorer adjusted its beak, much as one would adjust a pair of spectacles, and looked blandly at Notta. "I'm unusual—don't you think?"
"Unusual," whistled the Clown. "I'll say you are! And never have I seen such a country. Why, if I could take along a few of these freaks, I'd have the finest show on earth." He rubbed his forehead thoughtfully as he thought of the Mudgers, the Half-Lion, and now this bewildering bird.
Snorer was about the size of a small child, with enormous feet, short legs and pink feathers. His head was somewhat like that of a large crane, and his eyes were as blue as his beak.
"Why are you on the Isle of Un?" asked Notta, as the creature continued to look solemnly at him.
"Because I'm unusual," said the bird with a triumphant little hop. "But why are you here?"
"Because I'm unlucky, I guess," sighed the clown ruefully. "Won't you come along and meet my friends?"
"Yes, I'll come with you," said the bird calmly. It put its head on one side and looked at Notta. "You're beautiful," it sighed tremulously, "beautifully beautiful. I love you!"
Notta had all he could do to keep from laughing, but seeing that Snorer was really in earnest, he patted it awkwardly on the head, and started back, the bird hopping happily beside him.
"What's this you've caught?" asked the Cowardly Lion, blinking suspiciously at Notta's odd companion. As for Bob, who had wakened a moment before, he gave a little shout of laughter.
"It's because I'm so unusual," whispered Snorer, putting up a claw and winking at Notta. "Tell them my name's Nickadoodle."
So Notta gravely introduced Nick to Bob and the Cowardly Lion and, after Nick carefully explained his queer telephone nose, the four regarded one another with deep interest.
"Maybe you can tell us the way to escape from Un," suggested the Cowardly Lion in a rather choked voice, for every time he looked at Nick, he felt like roaring. Before Snorer could answer, Bob, who had been staring fixedly at the Cowardly Lion, burst out laughing.
"What's the matter?" demanded the Cowardly Lion gruffly.
"What's the matter?" asked Notta. Then he too clapped his hand to his mouth and began to rock backward and forward. "Feathers!" gasped the clown, "You've a big bunch of blue feathers in your mane!"
"What?" roared the Cowardly Lion, angrily putting his paw to his head.
"Oh, everyone grows feathers in Un," chirped Nick cheerily, hopping toward Bob. "Take off your cap and see."
Snatching off his hat Bob ran his fingers hastily through his hair. Horrors! Right at the crown of his head were at least ten stiff red feathers. Notta had as many green ones, but his hung down over his right eye when he took off his cap. The desire to laugh at Snorer suddenly left them. To laugh at someone who was funny was one thing, but to be funny yourself—well, that was different!
"You'll soon have as many feathers as I have," chuckled Nick, regarding them with his head on one side. "I think they're quite becoming!"
"Becoming!" screamed the Cowardly Lion. "Well, they'll be coming out by the roots. It's bad enough to be chicken hearted, but being feather headed, I simply will not stand!" He gave the bunch of feathers a furious tweak, but he might as well have tried to pull off his ears.
"We've got to get off this skyland," blustered the poor lion, stamping around in a fury. "I'll jump off before I grow another feather."
Bob was thinking that his would come in mighty handy for playing Indian.
"I suppose we'll soon grow enough to fly off," said Notta, blowing the green feathers out of his eye and pushing them back under his chap. "I say, Nickadoodle, can't you tell us a way out of this?"
"I'll tell you one thing," murmured the great bird, nestling close to Notta. "You're beautiful, beau-ti-ful!" He rolled his eyes rapturously.
"Well, if you don't want my beauty broken to pieces tell us a way to escape," begged the clown, looking nervously toward the edge of the skyland.
"There's only one way for you to leave," said Snorer, "and that is in the royal Flyaboutabus."
"What is it?" choked Notta.
"Where is it?" roared the Cowardly Lion.
"Tied to a tree near the palace. But we'll have to wait till the Uns go to wish," replied Nick, rubbing his head against Notta's knee. And while the three listened in amazement Snorer told them a bit about life on the Isle of Un. No one on Un, explained Nick gravely, ever worked, but each morning they went regularly to wish, and nothing was allowed to interrupt their wishing. For three hours they shouted their wishes as loudly as they could, and I-wish-I-was, because he could wish faster and shout louder than any of the rest, had been made king.
"You'll hear them at it soon," said Snorer, adjusting his nose, "and that's the best time for you to leave. Afternoons they fish and evenings they fight. Wish, fish and fight—that's the program here."
"But how do they get anything done?" asked Notta, standing on his head to settle his feathers.
"They don't," replied Snorer calmly. "Everything is undone; and about your feathers," he pointed his claw at the Cowardly Lion's mane, "every time anything unish happens to you you'll grow another. First you were unwise to come here. That accounts for one; then you were uncomfortable and unsafe."
"Unlucky, unhappy and unfed!" spluttered the clown, turning a somersault with each word. "Lead us to the Flyaboutabus, old fellow, or we'll soon be as feathered as geese."
"All right," chirped Nickadoodle obligingly, "but step softly and do just as I tell you."
"Aren't there any good Uns?" asked Bob with a little sigh.
"Well, there was one," Nick paused to adjust his nose, which was continually falling off its hook, "but I've forgotten his name, and the others treated him so unkindly that he's hidden himself in a cave somewhere on the skyle. But they do say if he ever becomes king, the Uns will all have to reform."
Bob was hungry and far from rested, but as he stumbled along the rocky beach he fell to thinking about this good Un and wishing he might see him before they left the skyland. But Notta was so cheered at the thought of leaving Un that every few seconds he sprang into the air or somersaulted over the Cowardly Lion. The Cowardly Lion was dreadfully down-hearted. The feathers preyed on his mind, his ears drooped and his tail dragged and nothing Notta could say made him feel any better.
"It's all very well for you and Bob. You can wear hats and hide your feathers, but a lion in a hat would look as ridiculous as a lion with feathers. I shall be the laughing stock of Oz," groaned the poor beast.
"Well, it's not so bad to make people laugh," comforted Notta. "That is my business, and I know. Come with me to America and your fortune will be made." But the Cowardly Lion only shook his head and padded sadly over the rough stones.
"This is a punishment," thought the poor lion, "a punishment for my wickedness in planning to devour a brave man." And perhaps he was right.
By this time they were so near the palace that Nick held up his claw for silence. Hiding behind a huge rock, they watched the Uns climb down from their tree houses and hurry off to wish, just as sensible folk hurry off to work. "Too bad I didn't send I-wish-I-was to Mudge," whispered Notta.
"Hush," said Nickadoodle. "As soon as you hear an ear-full of noise run for that third juniper tree." He pointed out the tree with his claw and the three watchers waited anxiously for the signal. Soon there was not an Un in sight and a second later a perfect explosion of screeches rent the air. It was, as Notta explained afterward, an elephant ear-full of noise, for every Un on the skyle was wishing at the top of his lungs.
As soon as they had recovered from the first shock, Notta, Bob and the Cowardly Lion rushed toward the juniper tree. Nick had flown ahead and was already calling down directions when they reached it.
From the top branch of the juniper tree the king's feathery Flyaboutabus was tugging merrily at its rope. Following Nick's instructions, Notta climbed to the top of the tree and, hanging on to the rope, managed to bring it down a bit. Nick, bidding Bob catch him around the neck, flew up next, and their weight brought it down still further. It was still terribly high for the Cowardly Lion, who could not very well climb the tree.
"Hurry! Hurry!" croaked Nick, flapping his wings warningly. "There's an Un." And sure enough, a tardy Featherhead was staring at them in astonishment from the door of his tree house. With an ear splitting squall, he fell down the ladder and rushed off to the wishing place to tell the others. Prickling with terror, the Cowardly Lion made spring after spring, but each time he just missed the Flyaboutabus. And every time he made an unsuccessful leap, another feather sprouted gaily in his mane. "Better cut loose and leave him," whispered Nick anxiously, but Notta and Bob hushed him up indignantly and by jumping tried to bring the bus lower.
"Go on and save yourselves," coughed the lion after the tenth attempt. He mopped his forehead dejectedly with his tail, and growled terribly as each feather pricked through. A shout from the clown made him turn. Rushing toward them in tumbling waves of fury were the Uns, led by I-wish-I-was. In a last despairing frenzy, the Cowardly Lion hurled himself into the air, and this time his front paws caught the feather wheels of the bus, and Bob and Notta, pulling together, helped him aboard. There was not a minute to lose, for the Uns were already surrounding the tree. Just as I-wish-I-was sprang into the lower branches, Snorer cut the rope with his knifelike beak and up sailed the Flyaboutabus like a balloon released from its string. Up, up, up they went, till the wild screams of the Uns could no longer be heard. Up, up, and 'round and 'round, plunging now this way and now that, till Notta, Bob and the Cowardly Lion were too shaken and dizzy to know or care what was happening.
But Snorer, more used to flying than the others, kept his head and, waiting his opportunity, seized a long lever that swung loosely to and fro in the front of the bus. He had never been in the Flyaboutabus before, but something told him that the lever must guide the movements of the strange vehicle. Sure enough, as soon as he took hold of it, the darting about stopped and it flew quite steadily.
"Are we still going up?" quavered Notta, without opening his eyes. The clown lay flat on his back in the bottom of the bus with Bob sprawled on top of him. The Cowardly Lion had become wedged under a seat and was heaving and puffing unhappily.
"Yes, but there's some way to bring it down," chirped Nick. "Come have a look. I know how to fly myself, but I don't know how to fly a Flyaboutabus."
Mustafa's Blue Magic
Notta rose unsteadily and lifted Bob into one of the side seats. Then he staggered over to the front of the bus and, holding his head with one hand, peered down at the gear and machinery. There was a row of buttons under the steering wheel and the first button said "Slower." Notta hastily pushed this one and the great feather wheels on each side immediately slackened their frantic whirling, and while Nick held the lever Notta investigated their strange flying machine still further. It was shaped like an immense hollowed-out goose, with seats on each side and a high seat near the head. The head turned with the steering wheel and honked loudly when you pushed the button marked "Blow." The tail of the goose moved from side to side, and the four powerful wheels whirled around continuously, so that the noise, when the bus flew swiftly, was terrific. Now, however, it was running more quietly, and Bob, no longer feeling giddy, began to look around with keen interest.
Notta had pressed another button marked "Middle Air—Down," and they were slanting gently toward the earth, floating almost without movement of the great feather wheels.
"Isn't this fun?" cried Bob, giving the clown a little hug as he sat down in the seat ahead.
"Well," chuckled Notta, "I don't usually fly before breakfast, but I'd fly from Un any time."
Snorer, who still held the lever, beamed over his shoulder at the clown.
"Didn't I manage well?" he chirped happily. "I say, when anything's to be done just leave it to old Nickadoodle."
"We can never thank you enough," declared Notta. "But how will you get back? Will you fly?"
"I'm not going back," exulted Snorer, flapping his wings. "I'd be unusual anywhere and I am never going to leave you, you beautiful creature."
"Then our fortune is made," said the clown, with a wink at Bob, "for in a circus you'd be more than half the show."
"I'll show them how to snore," chuckled Nick. "I do that better than anything else. But I'd do anything for you, for I love you with all my heart," continued Snorer calmly, "and the boy, too. And I love—"
"Don't you dare love me," rumbled the Cowardly Lion, wrathfully jerking his head from beneath the seat. "I won't allow it!"
"All right," sighed Nick, adjusting his nose. "I'll try not to love you, but it's going to be hard work, you're so handsome."
"There! There!" interrupted the Cowardly Lion gruffly, but he couldn't help looking pleased. "You may like me if you wish," he added mildly. "Any land in sight?"
Notta leaned far over the edge of the bus. "I think I see a village of some kind far down below. Here, Bob, you come help steer." So, while Nick grasped the lever to hold the bus steady, Bob sat in the high seat and turned the great goose head as Notta directed, now to the left and now to the right, and in less than an hour, they were floating slowly over a quaint blue city.
"We're still in the Munchkin country," rumbled the Cowardly Lion, standing on his hind legs and looking over the side.
"Well, we'll just fly over this town and land in one of those fields," puffed Notta uneasily. He was not sure he wouldn't impale the Flyaboutabus on a steeple, or run over some of the inhabitants, if he attempted to land in the city itself. As it was they flew quite a distance before he located all the buttons necessary to make a landing. The Flyaboutabus came to earth with such a bounce that they all flew up like rubber balls, while the bus continued to fly and bump around the field until Notta ran after it and tied it to a tree.
"And now what?" asked Nick, carefully putting his troublesome nose on its hook.
"Breakfast!" wheezed the Cowardly Lion, rolling out of a huge bramble bush. "Aren't you hungry, Bob?"
Bob nodded. "But where are we going to get it?" he asked, looking rather puzzled.
"One never knows in Oz, but if we look carefully, we'll be sure to find something," answered the lion easily.
"Let's make it a game," suggested Notta, patting his figure in various important places to see whether his disguises were still safe. "Now then, all ready for a breakfast hunt. I'll take this field, Nick can take the air and Bob and the Cowardly Lion may have the woods."
Bob smiled a little to himself. Hunting breakfast in the woods did seem ridiculous but, as the Cowardly Lion went poking his head in bushes and sniffing around trees in a businesslike manner, Bob began to look too. There were plenty of flowers in the woods, and for a time Bob found nothing else. At last pushing through a tangle of vines, the little boy found himself standing under a stout little tree that rattled curiously when the wind passed through its branches. There was a sign on the tree. Standing on his toes Bob spelled it out laboriously. Then he called Notta in excited little shrieks.
"What is it?" panted the clown, breaking through the vines with the Cowardly Lion one leap behind him. "Are you hurt?"
"No," cried Bob, "but I've won!" He pointed gleefully to the tree.
"Travelers' Tree," read Notta, "planted by the Wizard Wam in the year 1120 O. Z. "
"Well, hurrah for Wam!" chortled the clown, and began walking all around the tree, while the Cowardly Lion sat down and panted a little from his long run.
The lower branches were gay with many pink cups and on the next, poised over the cups, were the sauciest little tea, cocoa and coffee pots imaginable. Higher up grew clusters of covered dishes of every kind. In the very top of the tree was a large nest of some sort. Snorer, who came flying back just then, declared it was full of eggs. Instead of leaves, the tree flaunted many bright paper napkin blossoms.
"Be sure to plant your dishes when you have finished eating," directed another sign quite sternly.