NEPTUNE STILLS
THE WAVES

Up and down like corks bobbed the Brownies on the angry waves when their raft was so suddenly demolished by the storm. The blackness of the night was so intense that even with their supernatural vision they could not see each other save in those vivid streaks of lightning that came often and for a brief moment made all around as bright as day.

The wild wind and waves bore them farther and farther apart from each other, so that it was every one for himself, which was against all principle in a band that delighted in mutual help.

But in this case they could not give it. The water got in their noses and mouths, causing them to gasp, choke, and splutter, while their ears rang, and their eyes were nearly blinded.

They could now see and hear each other, and when some one swimming in the water called for help there were those on debris who reached over and pulled their exhausted comrade on board.

They shouted at each other in the dark, and by using their feet as paddles contrived at last to bring whatever they floated on close together. Then King Stanislaus, who with Prince Florimel was a-straddle of a log, with much anxiety began to take an inventory of the band.

To his infinite relief no one was missing but the Dude, but this misfortune in itself was enough to dampen their spirits, for the companion who had been carried off by the gigantic bird was very much beloved.

“Aye, aye!” growled the Sailor, cocking his weather-eye out through the slats of the hen-coop. “We’re all here, even to Euphrosyne’s dove!”

Thus on they went without further mishap, a queer-looking flotilla, keeping in as close proximity to each other as they could, using both hands and feet for paddles, and adopting many ingenious devices to complete the voyage so disastrously begun.

And a day dawned, then another, but at nightfall of the second they glimpsed far off a shore-line with a single towering mountain which they knew to be Dragonfel’s enchanted country.

They were neither hungry nor thirsty, for Brownies if need be can go without food or water a long time.

Much heartened by what they beheld, they redoubled their efforts to reach the shore, which grew plainer and plainer, until finally they could distinguish an immense glittering structure that looked more like a prison than a palace, built as it was in the gloomy shadow of the mountain.

Though it gleamed and flashed and shone in a thousand and one different places, where its myriad jewels caught the light, it seemed a cheerless, inhospitable place, and they were depressed by the sight of it.

The galleon that Dragonfel had used to convey his captives to his country was lying at anchor well in toward the shore, with no one evidently on board, but not feeling sure of this the Brownies made a wide detour, choosing for a landing a sheltered cove that would screen them from observing eyes.

As they drew closer to the land some strange companions had they—queer creatures who had obtruded themselves upon the Brownies during the storm, and forced their society upon unwilling hosts—a motley gathering from air, sea, and undersea that occupied choice places upon the flotsam and jetsam to which the little fellows so precariously clung with amazing vim.

There were comical-looking, long-legged, long-billed cranes and herons, and squat-flappered, web-footed penguins. The walrus and seal were there, as well as formidable members of the finny tribe, some of which had swords so sharp that the discreet Brownies kept a most respectful distance from them. Crustaceans too were represented, with here a lobster slyly nipping a sprite’s toe with his claws, and there a turtle tweaking another’s cap.

Grasped firmly by the coat-tails, with face downward, and legs and arms spread out like a Maltese cross, was the immaculate Brownie Dude, and he still was clutching in his right hand the cane that was his most treasured possession outside of his monocle. The Brownies watched this most extraordinary spectacle as though they were fascinated, and their pop-eyes almost popped out of their heads.

Lower and lower settled the great bird, and the anxious watchers now realized that its offices toward the Dude in time of danger had been of a most heroic nature.

With great haste some secured a net, which they held outspread. When the bird was still some distance above, it cocked its eye as though it were making some nice calculation and suddenly let go of its burden.

The Dude came hurtling through the air, landing safely in the net, while the bird sailed off, and was soon gone from sight.

As soon as the Dude got on his feet he started to dust off his clothes with a tiny whisk-broom.

“I shouldn’t care to go up in an aeroplane!” he said.

He looked infinitely relieved when one of the overjoyed Brownies who crowded around in congratulation handed him his opera-hat box.

But though Florimel, like all the rest, was delighted beyond measure that the Dude had been so miraculously restored to them, so they were now once more complete, he could not restrain his tortured feelings when he thought of Queen Titania, and he was in a fever of impatience to rush at once to her rescue.

“We only waste time here while Titania may be in danger,” he said, with a strong trace of irritation in his tone. “Is not that Dragonfel’s palace over yonder?”

King Stanislaus gazed at the highly expensive but forbidding-looking edifice toward which Florimel pointed.

“Maybe so,” was his guarded response.

“Then let us storm it, and force him to surrender the queen and her companions!”

“Yes, yes!” cried all the Brownies.

But King Stanislaus shook his head in a very decided manner.

“My son, you’re too impulsive,” he said kindly but reprovingly. “Judging from what you’ve told me, for I’ve never seen any of them, each of those fellows must stand full six times as high as one of us, and there may be six times as many besides. We must exercise caution.”

“Have you anything to propose?”

“Nothing just now,” said King Stanislaus. “We must reconnoitre a bit, and get the lay of the land, before considering any plan whatever. An open attack would be entirely out of the question. They’d have the advantage of us in size and maybe numbers. No, no, my boy, we must use Brownie cunning.” Reluctantly Florimel was obliged to admit the force of the shrewd old monarch’s reasoning.

Concerned as he was in mind to rescue Titania as soon as he could, he had no desire by any rash act to imperil or, even worse still, destroy the entire band.

King Stanislaus motioned to the Brownies, who drew closer to give respectful heed to what he might have to say to them.

“I want each of you to go out and see what you can learn,” he instructed. “But, as you value your life, and the lives of your fellows, you must not allow yourselves to be seen or heard by anyone. When a half-hour has elapsed we will assemble here.” Following His Majesty’s directions, the willing band immediately dispersed, Florimel choosing a way to take alone, as did each other, and so careful were they all that no one in the neighborhood would have suspected they were near.

When the half-hour was up King Stanislaus was back on the same spot, and the Brownies began to pop up in the dark around him from all sides.

“Well,” His Majesty asked, “have you found out anything?”

Then one after another was obliged to confess that he had not, and while he was questioning them in turn he ascertained that neither Florimel nor the Policeman had returned.

The fact that both were missing worried him not a little, but, even while he was wondering what had kept them, he beheld the Policeman returning with incredible speed, leaping and bounding with his long, tapering feet over the sand.

“Your Majesty,” he panted, as he came up out of breath, “I have just made a remarkable discovery.”

“What is it, officer?” asked King Stanislaus, anxiously.

“If I told you,” said the Policeman, “I’m afraid you wouldn’t believe me. I want you all to come and see for yourselves!”