“Not now,” said the Ork. “I appreciate your interest in me, which I fully deserve; but I only fly when I am going somewhere, and if I got started I might not stop.”

  “That reminds me,” remarked Cap’n Bill, “to ask you, friend Ork, how we are going to get away from here?”

  “Get away!” exclaimed the Bumpy Man. “Why don’t you stay here? You won’t find any nicer place than Mo.”

  “Have you been anywhere else, sir?”

  “No; I can’t say that I have,” admitted the Mountain Ear.

  “Then permit me to say you’re no judge,” declared Cap’n Bill. “But you haven’t answered my question, friend Ork. How are we to get away from this mountain?”

  The Ork reflected a while before he answered.

  “I might carry one of you—the boy or the girl—upon my back,” said he, “but three big people are more than I can manage, although I have carried two of you for a short distance. You ought not to have eaten those purple berries so soon.”

  “P’r’aps we did make a mistake,” Cap’n Bill acknowledged.

  “Or we might have brought some of those lavender berries with us, instead of so many purple ones,” suggested Trot regretfully.

  Cap’n Bill made no reply to this statement, which showed he did not fully agree with the little girl; but he fell into deep thought, with wrinkled brows, and finally he said:

  “If those purple berries would make anything grow bigger, whether it’d eaten the lavender ones or not, I could find a way out of our troubles.”

  They did not understand this speech and looked at the old sailor as if expecting him to explain what he meant. But just then a chorus of shrill cries rose from outside.

  “Here! Let me go—let me go!” the voices seemed to say. “Why are we insulted in this way? Mountain Ear, come and help us!”

  Trot ran to the window and looked out.

  “It’s the birds you caught, Cap’n,” she said. “I didn’t know they could talk.”

  “Oh, yes; all the birds in Mo are educated to talk,” said the Bumpy Man. Then he looked at Cap’n Bill uneasily and added: “Won’t you let the poor things go?”

  “I’ll see,” replied the sailor, and walked out to where the birds were fluttering and complaining because the strings would not allow them to fly away.

  “Listen to me!” he cried, and at once they became still. “We three people who are strangers in your land want to go to some other country, and we want three of you birds to carry us there. We know we are asking a great favor, but it’s the only way we can think of—excep’ walkin’, an’ I’m not much good at that because I’ve a wooden leg. Besides, Trot an’ Button-Bright are too small to undertake a long and tiresome journey. Now, tell me: Which three of you birds will consent to carry us?”

  The birds looked at one another as if greatly astonished. Then one of them replied: “You must be crazy, old man. Not one of us is big enough to fly with even the smallest of your party.”

  “I’ll fix the matter of size,” promised Cap’n Bill. “If three of you will agree to carry us, I’ll make you big an’ strong enough to do it, so it won’t worry you a bit.”

  The birds considered this gravely. Living in a magic country, they had no doubt but that the strange one-legged man could do what he said. After a little, one of them asked:

  “If you make us big, would we stay big always?”

  “I think so,” replied Cap’n Bill.

  They chattered a while among themselves and then the bird that had first spoken said: “I’ll go, for one.”

  “So will I,” said another; and after a pause a third said: “I’ll go, too.”

  Perhaps more would have volunteered, for it seemed that for some reason they all longed to be bigger than they were; but three were enough for Cap’n Bill’s purpose and so he promptly released all the others, who immediately flew away.

  The three that remained were cousins, and all were of the same brilliant plumage and in size about as large as eagles. When Trot questioned them she found they were quite young, having only abandoned their nests a few weeks before. They were strong young birds, with clear, brave eyes, and the little girl decided they were the most beautiful of all the feathered creatures she had ever seen.

  Cap’n Bill now took from his pocket the wooden box with the sliding cover and removed the three purple berries, which were still in good condition.

  “Eat these,” he said, and gave one to each of the birds. They obeyed, finding the fruit very pleasant to taste. In a few seconds they began to grow in size and grew so fast that Trot feared they would never stop. But they finally did stop growing, and then they were much larger than the Ork, and nearly the size of full-grown ostriches.

  Cap’n Bill was much pleased by this result.

  “You can carry us now, all right,” said he.

  The birds strutted around with pride, highly pleased with their immense size.

  “I don’t see, though,” said Trot doubtfully, “how we’re going to ride on their backs without falling off.”

  “We’re not going to ride on their backs,” answered Cap’n Bill. “I’m going to make swings for us to ride in.”

  He then asked the Bumpy Man for some rope, but the man had no rope. He had, however, an old suit of gray clothes which he gladly presented to Cap’n Bill, who cut the cloth into strips and twisted it so that it was almost as strong as rope. With this material he attached to each bird a swing that dangled below its feet, and Button-Bright made a trial flight in one of them to prove that it was safe and comfortable. When all this had been arranged one of the birds asked:

  “Where do you wish us to take you?”

  “Why, just follow the Ork,” said Cap’n Bill. “He will be our leader, and wherever the Ork flies you are to fly, and wherever the Ork lands you are to land. Is that satisfactory?”

  The birds declared it was quite satisfactory, so Cap’n Bill took counsel with the Ork.

  “On our way here,” said that peculiar creature, “I noticed a broad, sandy desert at the left of me, on which was no living thing.”

  “Then we’d better keep away from it,” replied the sailor.

  “Not so,” insisted the Ork. “I have found, on my travels, that the most pleasant countries often lie in the midst of deserts; so I think it would be wise for us to fly over this desert and discover what lies beyond it. For in the direction we came from lies the ocean, as we well know, and beyond here is this strange Land of Mo, which we do not care to explore. On one side, as we can see from this mountain, is a broad expanse of plain, and on the other the desert. For my part, I vote for the desert.”

  “What do you say, Trot?” inquired Cap’n Bill.

  “It’s all the same to me,” she replied.

  No one thought of asking Button-Bright’s opinion, so it was decided to fly over the desert. They bade good-bye to the Bumpy Man and thanked him for his kindness and hospitality. Then they seated themselves in the swings—one for each bird—and told the Ork to start away and they would follow.

  The whirl of the Ork’s tail astonished the birds at first, but after he had gone a short distance they rose in the air, carrying their passengers easily, and flew with strong, regular strokes of their great wings in the wake of their leader.

  Chapter Nine.The Kingdom of Jinxland

  Trot rode with more comfort than she had expected, although the swing swayed so much that she had to hold on tight with both hands. Cap’n Bill’s bird followed the Ork, and Trot came next, with Button-Bright trailing behind her. It was quite an imposing procession, but unfortunately there was no one to see it, for the Ork had headed straight for the great sandy desert and in a few minutes after starting they were flying high over the broad waste, where no living thing could exist.

  The little girl thought this would be a bad place for the birds to lose strength, or for the cloth ropes to give way; but although she could not help feeling a trifle nervous and fidgety she had confidence in the huge and brilliantly plumaged bird that bore her, as well as in Cap’n Bill’s knowledge of how to twist and fasten a rope so it would hold.

  That was a remarkably big desert. There was nothing to relieve the monotony of view and every minute seemed an hour and every hour a day. Disagreeable fumes and gases rose from the sands, which would have been deadly to the travelers had they not been so high in the air. As it was, Trot was beginning to feel sick, when a breath of fresher air filled her nostrils and on looking ahead she saw a great cloud of pink-tinted mist. Even while she wondered what it could be, the Ork plunged boldly into the mist and the other birds followed. She could see nothing for a time, nor could the bird which carried her see where the Ork had gone, but it kept flying as sturdily as ever and in a few moments the mist was passed and the girl saw a most beautiful landscape spread out below her, extending as far as her eye could reach.

  She saw bits of forest, verdure clothed hills, fields of waving grain, fountains, rivers and lakes; and throughout the scene were scattered groups of pretty houses and a few grand castles and palaces.

  Over all this delightful landscape—which from Trot’s high perch seemed like a magnificent painted picture—was a rosy glow such as we sometimes see in the west at sunset. In this case, however, it was not in the west only, but everywhere.

  No wonder the Ork paused to circle slowly over this lovely country. The other birds followed his action, all eyeing the place with equal delight. Then, as with one accord, the four formed a group and slowly sailed downward. This brought them to that part of the newly-discovered land which bordered on the desert’s edge; but it was just as pretty here as anywhere, so the Ork and the birds alighted and the three passengers at once got out of their swings.

  “Oh, Cap’n Bill, isn’t this fine an’ dandy?” exclaimed Trot rapturously. “How lucky we were to discover this beautiful country!”

  “The country seems rather high class, I’ll admit, Trot,” replied the old sailor-man, looking around him, “but we don’t know, as yet, what its people are like.”

  “No one could live in such a country without being happy and good—I’m sure of that,” she said earnestly. “Don’t you think so, Button-Bright?”

  “I’m not thinking, just now,” answered the little boy. “It tires me to think, and I never seem to gain anything by it. When we see the people who live here we will know what they are like, and no ‘mount of thinking will make them any different.”

  “That’s true enough,” said the Ork. “But now I want to make a proposal. While you are getting acquainted with this new country, which looks as if it contains everything to make one happy, I would like to fly along—all by myself—and see if I can find my home on the other side of the great desert. If I do, I will stay there, of course. But if I fail to find Orkland I will return to you in a week, to see if I can do anything more to assist you.”

  They were sorry to lose their queer companion, but could offer no objection to the plan; so the Ork bade them good-bye and rising swiftly in the air, he flew over the country and was soon lost to view in the distance.

  The three birds which had carried our friends now begged permission to return by the way they had come, to their own homes, saying they were anxious to show their families how big they had become. So Cap’n Bill and Trot and Button-Bright all thanked them gratefully for their assistance and soon the birds began their long flight toward the Land of Mo. Being now left to themselves in this strange land, the three comrades selected a pretty pathway and began walking along it. They believed this path would lead them to a splendid castle which they espied in the distance, the turrets of which towered far above the tops of the trees which surrounded it. It did not seem very far away, so they sauntered on slowly, admiring the beautiful ferns and flowers that lined the pathway and listening to the singing of the birds and the soft chirping of the grasshoppers.

  Presently the path wound over a little hill. In a valley that lay beyond the hill was a tiny cottage surrounded by flower beds and fruit trees. On the shady porch of the cottage they saw, as they approached, a pleasant faced woman sitting amidst a group of children, to whom she was telling stories. The children quickly discovered the strangers and ran toward them with exclamations of astonishment, so that Trot and her friends became the center of a curious group, all chattering excitedly. Cap’n Bill’s wooden leg seemed to arouse the wonder of the children, as they could not understand why he had not two meat legs. This attention seemed to please the old sailor, who patted the heads of the children kindly and then, raising his hat to the woman, he inquired:

  “Can you tell us, madam, just what country this is?”

  She stared hard at all three of the strangers as she replied briefly: “Jinxland.”

  “Oh!” exclaimed Cap’n Bill, with a puzzled look. “And where is Jinxland, please?”

  “In the Quadling Country,” said she.

  “What!” cried Trot, in sudden excitement. “Do you mean to say this is the Quadling Country of the Land of Oz?”

  “To be sure I do,” the woman answered. “Every bit of land that is surrounded by the great desert is the Land of Oz, as you ought to know as well as I do; but I’m sorry to say that Jinxland is separated from the rest of the Quadling Country by that row of high mountains you see yonder, which have such steep sides that no one can cross them. So we live here all by ourselves, and are ruled by our own King, instead of by Ozma of Oz.”

  “I’ve been to the Land of Oz before,” said Button-Bright, “but I’ve never been here.”

  “Did you ever hear of Jinxland before?” asked Trot.

  “No,” said Button-Bright.

  “It is on the Map of Oz, though,” asserted the woman, “and it’s a fine country, I assure you. If only,” she added, and then paused to look around her with a frightened expression. “If only—” here she stopped again, as if not daring to go on with her speech.

  “If only what, ma’am?” asked Cap’n Bill.

  The woman sent the children into the house. Then she came closer to the strangers and whispered: “If only we had a different King, we would be very happy and contented.”

  “What’s the matter with your King?” asked Trot, curiously. But the woman seemed frightened to have said so much. She retreated to her porch, merely saying:

  “The King punishes severely any treason on the part of his subjects.”

  “What’s treason?” asked Button-Bright.

  “In this case,” replied Cap’n Bill, “treason seems to consist of knockin’ the King; but I guess we know his disposition now as well as if the lady had said more.”

  “I wonder,” said Trot, going up to the woman, “if you could spare us something to eat. We haven’t had anything but popcorn and lemonade for a long time.”

  “Bless your heart! Of course I can spare you some food,” the woman answered, and entering her cottage she soon returned with a tray loaded with sandwiches, cakes and cheese. One of the children drew a bucket of clear, cold water from a spring and the three wanderers ate heartily and enjoyed the good things immensely.

  When Button-Bright could eat no more he filled the pockets of his jacket with cakes and cheese, and not even the children objected to this. Indeed they all seemed pleased to see the strangers eat, so Cap’n Bill decided that no matter what the King of Jinxland was like, the people would prove friendly and hospitable.

  “Whose castle is that, yonder, ma’am?” he asked, waving his hand toward the towers that rose above the trees.

  “It belongs to his Majesty, King Krewl.” she said.

  “Oh, indeed; and does he live there?”

  “When he is not out hunting with his fierce courtiers and war captains,” she replied.

  “Is he hunting now?” Trot inquired.

  “I do not know, my dear. The less we know about the King’s actions the safer we are.”

  It was evident the woman did not like to talk about King Krewl and so, having finished their meal, they said good-bye and continued along the pathway.

  “Don’t you think we’d better keep away from that King’s castle, Cap’n?” asked Trot.

  “Well,” said he, “King Krewl would find out, sooner or later, that we are in his country, so we may as well face the music now. Perhaps he isn’t quite so bad as that woman thinks he is. Kings aren’t always popular with their people, you know, even if they do the best they know how.”

  “Ozma is pop’lar,” said Button-Bright.

  “Ozma is diff’rent from any other Ruler, from all I’ve heard,” remarked Trot musingly, as she walked beside the boy. “And, after all, we are really in the Land of Oz, where Ozma rules ev’ry King and ev’rybody else. I never heard of anybody getting hurt in her dominions, did you, Button-Bright?”

  “Not when she knows about it,” he replied. “But those birds landed us in just the wrong place, seems to me. They might have carried us right on, over that row of mountains, to the Em’rald City.”

  “True enough,” said Cap’n Bill; “but they didn’t, an’ so we must make the best of Jinxland. Let’s try not to be afraid.”

  “Oh, I’m not very scared,” said Button-Bright, pausing to look at a pink rabbit that popped its head out of a hole in the field near by.

  “Nor am I,” added Trot. “Really, Cap’n, I’m so glad to be anywhere at all in the wonderful fairyland of Oz that I think I’m the luckiest girl in all the world. Dorothy lives in the Em’rald City, you know, and so does the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and Tik-Tok and the Shaggy Man—and all the rest of ‘em that we’ve heard so much about—not to mention Ozma, who must be the sweetest and loveliest girl in all the world!”

  “Take your time, Trot,” advised Button-Bright. “You don’t have to say it all in one breath, you know. And you haven’t mentioned half of the curious people in the Em’rald City.”