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 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?'
"'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, 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!
[Illustration: 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!"
"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!