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"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.
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"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!"
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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! 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 feathered
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 cap. "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, beauti-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
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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, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]