“Where’ll we go?” he asked, shifting on his wooden leg uneasily.
“Anywhere; I don’t care. There’ll be the air-ride there, an’ the air-ride back, an’ that’s the main thing with me. If you say you’ll go, Cap’n, I’ll run in an’ pack a basket of lunch.”
“How’ll we carry it?”
“Swing it to the bottom of your seat.”
The old sailor stood silent a moment. He really longed to take the air-ride but was fearful of danger. However, Trot had gone safely to town and back and had greatly enjoyed the experience.
“All right,” he said; “I’ll risk it, mate, although I guess I’m an old fool for temptin’ fate by tryin’ to make a bird o’ myself. Get the lunch, Trot, if your mother’ll let you have it, and I’ll rig up the seat.”
He went into the shed and Trot went to her mother. Mrs. Griffith, busy with her work, knew nothing of what was going on in regard to the flight of the Magic Umbrella. She never objected when Trot wanted to go away with Cap’n Bill for a day’s picnicking. She knew the child was perfectly safe with the old sailor, who cared for Trot even better than her mother would have done. If she had asked any questions to-day, and had found out they intended to fly in the air, she might have seriously objected; but Mrs. Griffith had her mind on other things and merely told the girl to take what she wanted from the cupboard and not bother her. So Trot, remembering that Button-Bright would be with them and had proved himself to be a hearty eater, loaded the basket with all the good things she could find.
By the time she came out, lugging the basket with both hands, Cap’n Bill appeared with the new seat he had made for his own use, which he attached by means of ropes to the double seat of the boy and girl.
“Now, then, where’ll we go?” asked Trot.
“Anywhere suits me,” replied Cap’n Bill.
They had walked to the high bluff overlooking the sea, where a gigantic acacia tree stood on the very edge. A seat had been built around the trunk of the tree, for this was a favorite spot for Trot and Cap’n Bill to sit and talk and watch the fleet of fishing boats sail to and from the village.
When they came to this tree Trot was still trying to think of the most pleasant place to picnic. She and Cap’n Bill had been every place that was desirable and near by, but to-day they didn’t want a near-by spot. They must decide upon one far enough away to afford them a fine trip through the air. Looking far out over the Pacific, the girl’s eyes fell upon a dim island lying on the horizon line — just where the sky and water seemed to meet — and the sight gave her an idea.
“Oh, Cap’n Bill!” she exclaimed, “let’s go to that island for our picnic. We’ve never been there yet, you know.”
The sailor shook his head.
“It’s a good many miles away, Trot,” he said; “further than it looks to be, from here.”
“That won’t matter,” remarked Button-Bright; “the umbrella will carry us there in no time.”
“Let’s go!” repeated Trot. “We’ll never have another such chance, Cap’n. It’s too far to sail or row, and I’ve always wanted to visit that island.”
“What’s the name of it?” inquired Button-Bright, while the sailor hesitated how to decide.
“Oh, it’s got an awful hard name to pernounce,” replied the girl, “so Cap’n Bill and I jus’ call it ‘Sky Island,’ ‘cause it looks as if it was half in the sky. We’ve been told it’s a very pretty island, and a few people live there and keep cows and goats, and fish for a living. There are woods and pastures and springs of clear water, and I’m sure we would find it a fine place for a picnic.”
“If anything happened on the way,” observed Cap’n Bill, “we’d drop in the water.”
“Of course,” said Trot; “and if anything happened while we were flyin’ over the land we’d drop there. But nothing’s goin’ to happen, Cap’n. Didn’t Button-Bright come safe all the way from Philydelfy?”
“I think I’d like to go to Sky Island,” said the boy. “I’ve always flown above the land, so far, and it will be something new to fly over the ocean.”
“All right; I’m agree’ble,” decided Cap’n Bill. “But afore we starts on such a long journey, s’pose we make a little trial trip along the coast. I want to see if the new seat fits me, an’ make certain the umbrel will carry all three of us.”
“Very well,” said Button-Bright. “Where shall we go?”
“Let’s go as far as Smuggler’s Cove, an’ then turn ‘round an’ come back. If all’s right an’ shipshape, then we can start for the island.”
They put the broad double seat on the ground and then the boy and girl sat in their places and Button-Bright spread open the Magic Umbrella. Cap’n Bill sat in his seat just in front of them, all being upon the ground.
“Don’t we look funny?” said Trot, with a chuckle of glee. “But hold fast the ropes, Cap’n, an’ take care of your wooden leg.”
Button-Bright addressed the umbrella, speaking to it very respectfully, for it was a thing to inspire awe.
“I want to go as far as Smuggler’s Cove, and then turn around in the air and come back here,” he said.
At once the umbrella rose into the air, lifting after it, first the seat in which the children sat, and then Cap’n Bill’s seat.
“Don’t kick your heels, Trot!” cried the sailor in a voice that proved he was excited by his novel experience; “you might bump me in the nose.”
“All right,” she called back; “I’ll be careful.”
It was really a wonderful, exhilarating ride, and Cap’n Bill wasn’t long making up his mind he liked the sensation. When about fifty feet above the ground the umbrella began moving along the coast toward Smuggler’s Cove, which it soon reached. Looking downward, Cap’n Bill suddenly exclaimed:
“Why, there’s a boat cast loose, an’ it’s goin’ to smash on the rocks. Hold on a minute, Butt’n-Bright, till we can land an’ drag it ashore.”
“Hold on a minute, Umbrella!” cried the boy.
But the Magic Umbrella kept steadily upon its way. It made a circle over the Cove and then started straight back the way it had come.
“It’s no use, sir,” said Button-Bright to the sailor. “If I once tell it to go to a certain place, the umbrella will go there, and nowhere else. I’ve found that out before this. You simply can’t stop it.”
“Won’t let you change your mind, eh?” replied Cap’n Bill. “Well, that has its advantidges, an’ its disadvantidges. If your ol’ umbrel hadn’t been so obstinate we could have saved that boat.”
“Never mind,” said Trot, briskly; “here we are safe back again. Wasn’t it jus’ the — the fascinatingest ride you ever took, Cap’n?”
“It’s pretty good fun,” admitted Cap’n Bill. “Beats them aëroplanes an’ things all holler, ‘cause it don’t need any regulatin’.”
“If we’re going to that island we may as well start right away,” said Button-Bright, when they had safely landed.
“All right; I’ll tie on the lunch-basket,” answered the sailor. He fastened it so it would swing underneath his own seat and then they all took their places again.
“Ready?” asked the boy.
“Let’er go, my lad.”
“I want to go to Sky Island,” said Button-Bright to the umbrella, using the name Trot had given him.
The umbrella started promptly. It rose higher than before, carrying the three voyagers with it, and then started straight away over the ocean.
The Island in the Sky
THEY clung tightly to the ropes, but the breeze was with them, so after a few moments, when they became accustomed to the motion, they began to enjoy the ride immensely.
Larger and larger grew the island, and although they were headed directly toward it, the umbrella seemed to rise higher and higher into the air the farther it traveled. They had not journeyed ten minutes before they came directly over the island, and looking down they could see the forests and meadows far below them. But the umbrella kep
t up its rapid flight.
“Hold on, there!” cried Cap’n Bill. “If it ain’t keerful the ol’ thing will pass way by the island.”
“I — I’m sure it has passed it already,” exclaimed Trot “What’s wrong, Button-Bright? Why don’t we stop?”
Button-Bright seemed astonished too.
“Perhaps I didn’t say it right,” he replied, after a moment’s thought. Then, looking up at the umbrella, he repeated, distinctly: “I said I wanted to go to Sky Island! Sky Island; don’t you understand?”
The umbrella swept steadily along, getting farther and farther out to sea and rising higher and higher toward the clouds.
“Mack’rel an’ herrings!” roared Cap’n Bill, now really frightened; “ain’t there any blamed way at all to stop her?”
“None that I know of,” said Button-Bright, anxiously.
“P’raps,” said Trot, after a pause during which she tried hard to think, “p’raps ‘Sky Island’ isn’t the name of that island, at all.”
“Why, we know very well it ain’t the name of it,” yelled Cap’n Bill, from below. “We jus’ called it that ‘cause its right name is too hard to say.”
“That’s the whole trouble, then,” returned Button-Bright. “Somewhere in the world there’s a real Sky Island, and having told the Magic Umbrella to take us there, it’s going to do so.”
“Well, I declare!” gasped the sailorman; “can’t we land anywhere else?”
“Not unless you care to tumble off,” said the boy. “I’ve told the umbrella to take us to Sky Island, so that’s the exact place we’re bound for. I’m sorry. It was your fault for giving me the wrong name.”
They glided along in silence for a while. The island was now far behind them, growing small in the distance.
“Where do you s’pose the real Sky Island can be?” asked Trot presently.
“We can’t tell anything about it until we get there,” Button-Bright answered. “Seems to me I’ve heard of the Isle of Skye, but that’s over in Great Britain, somewhere the other side of the world; and it isn’t Sky Island, anyhow.”
“This miser’ble ol’ umbrel is too pertic’ler,” growled Cap’n Bill. “It won’t let you change your mind an’ it goes ezzac’ly where you say.”
“If it didn’t,” said Trot, “we’d never know where we were going.”
“We don’t know now,” said the sailor. “One thing’s certain, folks: we’re gett’n’ a long way from home.”
“And see how the clouds are rolling just above us,” remarked the boy, who was almost as uneasy as Cap’n Bill.
“We’re in the sky, all right,” said the girl. “If there could be an island up here, among the clouds, I’d think it was there we’re going.”
“Couldn’t there be one?” asked Button-Bright. “Why couldn’t there be an island in the sky that would be named Sky Island?”
“Of course not!” declared Cap’n Bill. “There wouldn’t be anything to hold it up, you know.”
“What’s holding us up?” asked Trot.
“Magic, I guess.”
“Then magic might hold an island in the sky.... Whee-e-e-e! what a black cloud!”
It grew suddenly dark, for they were rushing through a thick cloud that rolled around them in billows. Trot felt little drops of moisture striking her face and knew her clothing was getting damp and soggy.
“It’s a rain cloud,” she said to Button-Bright, “and it seems like an awful big one, ‘cause it takes so long for us to pass through it.”
The umbrella never hesitated a moment. It made a path through the length of the heavy black cloud at last and carried its passengers into a misty, billowy bank of white, which seemed as soft and fleecy as a lady’s veil. When this broke away they caught sight of a majestic rainbow spanning the heavens, its gorgeous colors glinting brightly in the sun, its arch perfect and unbroken from end to end. But it was only a glimpse they had, for quickly they dove into another bank of clouds and the rainbow disappeared.
Here the clouds were not black, nor heavy, but they assumed queer shapes. Some were like huge ships, some like forest trees, and others piled themselves into semblances of turreted castles and wonderful palaces. The shapes shifted here and there continually and the voyagers began to be bewildered by the phantoms.
“Seems to me we’re goin’ down,” called Trot.
“Down where?” asked Cap’n Bill.
“Who knows?” said Button-Bright. “But we’re dropping, all right.”
It was a gradual descent. The Magic Umbrella maintained a uniform speed, swift and unfaltering, but its path through the heavens was now in the shape of an arch, as a flying arrow falls. The queer shapes of the clouds continued for some time, and once or twice Trot was a little frightened when a monstrous airy dragon passed beside them, or a huge giant stood upon a peak of cloud and stared savagely at the intruders into his domain. But none of these fanciful, vapory creatures seemed inclined to molest them or to interfere with their flight and after a while the umbrella dipped below this queer cloudland and entered a clear space where the sky was of an exquisite blue color.
“Oh, look!” called Cap’n Bill. “There’s land below us.”
The boy and girl leaned over and tried to see this land, but Cap’n Bill was also leaning over and his big body hid all that was just underneath them.
“Is it an island?” asked Trot, anxiously.
“Seems so,” the old sailor replied. “The blue is around all one side of it an’ a pink sunshine around the other side. There’s a big cloud just over the middle; but I guess it’s surely an island, Trot, an’ bein’ as it’s in the sky, it’s likely to be Sky Island.”
“Then we shall land there,” said the boy confidently. “I knew the umbrella couldn’t make a mistake.”
Presently Cap’n Bill spoke again.
“We’re goin’ down on the blue part o’ the island,” he said. “I can see trees, an’ ponds, an’ houses. Hold tight, Trot! Hold tight, Butt’n-Bright! I’m afeared we’re a-goin’ to bump somethin’!”
They were certainly dropping very quickly, now, and the rush of air made their eyes fill with water, so that they could not see much below them. Suddenly the basket that was dangling below Cap’n Bill’s seat struck something with a loud thud and this was followed by a yell of anger. Cap’n Bill sat flat upon the ground, landing with a force that jarred the sailorman and made his teeth click together, while down upon him came the seat that Trot and Button-Bright occupied, so that for a moment they were all tangled up.
“Get off from me! Get off from my feet, I say!” cried an excited voice. “What in the Sky do you mean by sitting on my feet? Get off! Get off at once!”
The Boolooroo of the Blues
CAP’N BILL suspected that these remarks were addressed to him, but he couldn’t move just then because the seat was across him, and a boy and girl were sprawling on the seat. As the Magic Umbrella was now as motionless as any ordinary umbrella might be, Button-Bright first released the catch and closed it up, after which he unhooked the crooked handle from the rope and rose to his feet. Trot had managed by this time to stand up and she pulled the board off from Cap’n Bill. All this time the shrill, excited voice was loudly complaining because the sailor was on his feet, and Trot looked to see who was making the protest, while Cap’n Bill rolled over and got on his hands and knees so he could pull his meat leg and his wooden leg into an upright position, which wasn’t a very easy thing to do.
Button-Bright and Trot were staring with all their might at the queerest person they had ever seen. They decided it must be a man, because he had two long legs, a body as round as a ball, a neck like an ostrich and a comical little head set on the top of it. But the most curious thing about him was his skin, which was of a lovely sky-blue tint. His eyes were also sky-blue, and his hair, which was trained straight up and ended in a curl at the top of his head, was likewise blue in color and matched his skin and his eyes. He wore tight-fitting clothes made of sky-blue si
lk, with a broad blue ruffle around his long neck, and on his breast glittered a magnificent jewel in the form of a star, set with splendid blue stones.
If the blue man astonished the travelers they were no less surprised by his surroundings, for look where they might, everything they beheld was of the same blue color as the sky above. They seemed to have landed in a large garden, surrounded by a high wall of blue stone. The trees were all blue, the grass was blue, the flowers were blue and even the pebbles in the paths were blue. There were many handsomely carved benches and seats of blue wood scattered about the garden, and near them stood a fountain, made of blue marble, which shot lovely sprays of blue water into the blue air.
But the angry inhabitant of this blue place would not permit them to look around them in peace, for as soon as Cap’n Bill rolled off his toes he began dancing around in an excited way and saying very disrespectful things of his visitors.
“You brutes! you apes! you miserable white-skinned creatures! How dare you come into my garden and knock me on the head with that awful basket and then fall on my toes and cause me pain and suffering? How dare you, I say? Don’t you know you will be punished for your impudence? Don’t you know the Boolooroo of the Blues will have revenge? I can have you patched for this insult, and I will — just as sure as I’m the Royal Boolooroo of Sky Island!”
“Oh, is this Sky Island, then?” asked Trot.
“Of course it’s Sky Island. What else could it be? And I’m its Ruler — its King — its sole Royal Potentate and Dictator. Behold in the Personage you have injured the Mighty Quitey Righty Boolooroo of the Blues!” Here he strutted around in a very pompous manner and wagged his little head contemptuously at them.
“Glad to meet you, sir,” said Cap’n Bill. “I allus had a likin’ for kings, bein’ as they’re summat unusual. Please ‘scuse me for a-sittin’ on your royal toes, not knowin’ as your toes were there.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 312