  Bob looked very sober, and said nothing; and Fitz continued: “So you see we were both wrong; we forgot that the sun is south at noon—that’s all. Isn’t it funny?” and again the goblin laughed. “I don’t think it very funny,” the boy replied, pouting his lips, and looking very glum. “You don’t?” “No, I don’t.” “Why don’t you?” “Because here we are in the desert—away south of where we ought to be; and the selector won’t work, and we can’t go back—can’t go in any direction but south. If we keep on, we’ll just come to the south pole—that’s all.” “Say!” the goblin cried. “I never thought of that, Bob. That’s so; and we’re in a fix, sure.” Then, after wrinkling his forehead and blinking thoughtfully for a few moments: “Well, there’s just one thing to do: we’ve got to fix the selector—got to find out what “Why can’t you do it here and now?” Bob suggested. “I’m afraid I might get us into worse trouble, Bob; might shake the thing up in some way that would cause it to run away with us. It’s tricky sometimes. No, I’ll wait till we come to an oasis; then I’ll work at it on the ground.” “All right. And I’ll work my teeth upon some ripe dates and any other fruit I can find.” “That reminds me, Bob,”—setting the balloon in motion,—“that we haven’t had any dinner; and it’s getting late in the afternoon. Why didn’t you mention that you were getting hungry?” “Oh! I’m not very hungry; you know I had a big meal that I got from the old woman’s table. But you haven’t eaten anything since morning, have you, Fitz?” “No, but I’ll eat now as we go along; and you can join me.” “Oh, can I?” contemptuously. “Certainly.” “You’re very kind.” “Aren’t you hungry?” “Not hungry enough to take pills.” “Bob, I tell you they’re not pills; they’re food tablets.” “They’re pills all the same, Fitz; and I won’t take ’em when I The goblin said no more; but silently opened the hand-satchel, and took out and swallowed a number of the tiny tablets and pellets, smacking his lips in a manner that made his companion turn up his nose in disgust. The sun was slowly sinking in the west. Bob had the binocular to his eyes and was sweeping the southern horizon. Suddenly he cried: “Look! Look, Fitz! We’re coming to a great city!” The goblin smiled pityingly, wagging his head and rolling his eyes. “Don’t you see it?” the boy asked eagerly. The goblin nodded, still smiling. Bob leveled his glass upon the distant city and continued to observe it. It was a most beautiful sight, that city. It stood upon the bank of a blue lake; and its white walls, its domes and spires, glistened in the rays of the declining sun. But gradually it began to fade away; and little by little it disappeared from view. “Why—why,” the boy cried, “what’s become of it, Fitz? I can’t see it any more. What’s become of it?” “Don’t you know?” the goblin snickered. “No.” “You didn’t see any city, Bob.” “I know I did! Think I can’t see?” “Yes, you can see; but you didn’t see any city.” “What did I see, then?” “A mirage.” “Oh!” “You know what I mean?” “Yes. Was that all it was?” “That was all.” “Well, it was beautiful, anyway. And there’s another one—a lot of grass and green trees this time.” “That’s an oasis.” “Maybe it’s just another mirage.” “No, it’s an oasis. See! It’s getting closer and clearer all the time. There’s where we’ll stop.” The swift speed of their air-vessel soon brought them to the green oasis. There they descended to the earth, pumped the tank full of air, and firmly secured the balloon to a tree. Then Fitz set about to repair the selector, and Bob began to search for fruit. The boy was successful in his quest and soon returned to his comrade, his cap full of luscious dates. The goblin was sitting upon the ground, his back against the side of the basket, apparently glum and half asleep. “Have some, Fitz,” the boy mumbled, his mouth full of fruit, offering a share to his companion. Fitz drowsily shook his head. “Did you get the selector fixed?” Bob inquired. The goblin nodded, batting his eyes. “I—I guess I’ve got it fixed,” he said. “What was the matter with it?” “I don’t know, Bob. I never had a selector act like this one does; I’m afraid it’s permanently magnetized.” “Why, what would put it in that condition, Fitz?” “Oh! I don’t know, I guess.” “Yes, you do. Out with it.” “I don’t want to scare you, Bob, but—” “Scare me? Pooh! Out with it.” “Well, down here in Africa somewhere—I don’t know just where—there’s a magnetic mountain; and we goblins have had trouble with it. Whenever we get within the zone of its power with our balloons, it magnetizes our selectors so they won’t work right; and if we get too “Is that so?”—mouth agape. “Yes, indeed.” “And you think that’s what ails our selector?” “I’m afraid it is.” “Well, what’re we going to do about it?” “There’s very little we can do—if that’s what’s the matter with our machine. It seems to be all right now; but you must remember we’re on the ground, with other mountains between us and the magnetic peak—breaking its power, as it were. Probably when we’re high in the air again, we’ll encounter the old difficulty.” “Then we’d better sail as close to the earth as we can, Fitz, till we’re beyond the influence of that strange mountain.” “That’s a good idea, Bob; I’d already thought of it. And, as the sun’s almost down and we’ll need to see our way when travelling close to the ground, I think we’d better spend the night here, don’t you?” “Yes. But—but say, Fitz!” “What?” “If you need to send a wireless phone message to Goblinland, how do you do it?” Fitz Mee silently drew from his pocket a small shiny metallic box, and opened it. It contained a tiny telephone instrument, perfect in every detail—speaking-tube, receiver and all. “My!” the boy exclaimed in admiration and wonder. “Isn’t it pretty and isn’t it little! But how do you use it, Fitz?” “Just like you use any telephone,” the goblin replied complacently. “Do you take down that teenty-weenty little receiver and call up central in Goblinland?” “Yes.” “And central gives you whatever number you want?” The goblin nodded. “Say!” the boy cried excitedly. “Call up some one right now, Fitz.” The goblin shook his head. “Yes,” Bob insisted; “I want to see how it works.” “I don’t dare to.” “Don’t dare to?” “No.” “Why?” “There’s a law against using the instrument, except for messages of grave importance.” “Oh!” “Uh-huh.” Fitz Mee closed the little box and returned it to his pocket; Bob resumed the munching of his ripe fruit. “Won’t you have some, Fitz?” he suggested, temptingly displaying it to the goblin’s gaze. “Uk-uh!” Fitz grunted. “Better try some; it’s fine.” “It would make me sick.” “Pshaw!”—incredulously, contemptuously. “I’m afraid it would; I’m afraid it will make you sick.” “Me?” “Yes.” “Huh! Fruit never makes me sick; I can eat bushels of it.” “You mean you could.” “What?” “You could—when you were a boy.” “Well?” “Well, you’re part goblin now.” “Well, I’m not!” “You’ll see, Bob.” “Well, I will see; I’ll eat this fruit and prove to you, Fitzy, that I’m just a healthy boy.” “All right,” the goblin grinned. Bob finished his fruit—to the last date. Then he went to the great spring near at hand, and lay down and drank his fill. He set out to return to his comrade; but suddenly he became so ill that he dropped upon the ground and rolled and writhed and groaned. Fitz came flying to him. “Here, Bob,” he said quietly, “take this,” offering the wriggling boy a tablet. “Oh! pills! pills! pills!” Bob moaned. But he took the tablet and downed it; and soon he was relieved of the fruit—and his pain. Sheepishly he got on his feet and sauntered back to the balloon, crestfallen and subdued. All Fitz Mee said to him was: “I guess you’ll know enough to stick to goblin diet after this.” And Bob made no reply. The sun had gone down; dusky shadows were gathering from far and near and throwing themselves prone upon the desert sands. The air, that all the afternoon had been so hot, was growing chill. “I’m sleepy,” Bob remarked, dropping upon the warm earth and stretching full length. “Well, you mustn’t go to sleep there,” Fitz replied. “Why?” the boy queried. “You’ll see why when it grows a little darker. Wild beasts will be prowling around here, after food and water.” “They will?” raising himself upon his elbow and glancing apprehensively around. “Yes, indeed,” the goblin answered. “Lions?” “Yes.” “Leopards?” “Uh-huh.” “And hyenas and jackals?” The goblin nodded. “Well, where are we going to sleep, then?” “We’ll let the balloon rise to the level of the tops of these palm trees, tie it there, and sleep in the car.” “That’ll do. But I’ll bet we don’t get much sleep; the wild animals will raise such a rumpus, roaring and howling and fighting. Won’t they?” “It’s likely.” “Dear—dear! I wish I was back home.” “No, you don’t, Bob.” “I do, too. You promised to take me to Goblinland where everything was to be lovely; and you’ve got me away down here in the Sahara desert where there’s nothing but sand and wild beasts. And you’ve got me in such a fix I can’t eat a little fruit, even, without getting sick; and now I’m to have no sleep. Bah!” “That’s all that ails you, Bob.” “What?” “You’re sleepy—and cross.” “I’m not cross.” “Well—well, we won’t argue the matter.” “I’ll argue if I want to, old Epilepsy.” “Say, Bob,”—pleasantly. No reply. “Bob.” “Huh!”—ungraciously. “I think I know what we can do to send the wild animals about their business if they bother us.” “What?”—with a show of interest. “That is,” with a reflective shake of the head, “if we didn’t throw overboard, when we were about to sink in the Atlantic, the stuff we need.” “What is it, Fitz?” “Magnetic powder.” “There’s a bottle of it in the locker; I saw it there this morning. But what on earth are you going to do with it?” “I’ll tell you. I’m going to sprinkle some of it in the spring; and it’ll magnetize the water. Then any animal that comes for a drink will get a shock that will stir up its ideas—and send it flying. Won’t that be great?” “Great?” Bob cried, capering about in glee. “Yes, indeed, Fitz! Soon they had magnetized the spring, and had snuggled down in the car of their balloon, to spend the night. By that time it was quite dark; so they partook of a few food-tablets and drink-pellets, and then composed themselves to rest—out of reach of any beast that might come prowling around. Bob dropped into a doze. A roar like distant, muttering thunder roused him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes; then he nudged his sleeping companion. “Huh!” ejaculated Fitz, waking with a start. “I heard something roaring—sounded like thunder,” the boy explained. “Where?” “I don’t know; I wasn’t wide enough awake to tell. There—there it goes again.” “That’s a lion out on the sands,” chuckled the goblin; “he’s coming for a drink. Now the fun’ll begin, Bob.” “And listen! What are those other sounds, Fitz?” “Jackals barking and hyenas howling. They’re all coming at once. There’ll be a circus when they gather at the spring.” The two aËronauts giggled and shrugged their shoulders, in nervous but delicious expectancy. The moon made the night almost as light as day; but soon great dark shapes and shadows were to be “I see the lion,” Bob whispered excitedly. “There! He’s just coming in among the trees. But what’s that other animal creeping along away out there in the bright moonlight?” “A leopard,” Fitz replied. “And that pack of little fellows are jackals?” “Yes.” “And those ugly scrawny ones are hyenas?” “Yes.” “Oh, my!” the boy exclaimed gleefully. “Talk about a circus, Fitz; I call it a menagerie. This is a free show; and you and I have box seats.” Then thoughtfully, and with a little shiver, “And I’m mighty glad we have—and right above the ring. I—” He was interrupted by a roar that seemed to shake the slender fronds of the palm trees and rock the balloon. The lion was directly beneath them, smelling over the ground where they had been. The two small comrades cuddled close together upon the locker, held each other’s hands, and strained their eyes and ears to see and hear all that was going on. Presently the leopard, too, was among the trees and, like the lion, was nosing from one spot to another; and “Ugh!” the boy grunted in disgust. “Those cowardly things out there make me lonesome with their mournful sounds.” “Me, too,” the goblin admitted, nodding. Then he whispered sharply: “There—there, Bob. The lion’s going to the spring. See him in that patch of moonlight?” “Yes.” “And now he’s right at the edge of the water. See him—see him?” “Uh—huh. And there’s the leopard coming up on the other side.” The lion advanced majestically to the edge of the pool. He looked askance at his slender cousin, the leopard; and then he touched his nose to the clear water. Instantly he sprang backward, bristling, sneezing and shaking his head, in surprise and anger. The leopard looked on in wonder at her cousin’s strange behavior; and the lion glared fiercely at her. The two aËronauts hugged each other and laughed softly. Again the lion essayed to slake his burning thirst at the glassy pool; and again he retreated in rage and confusion. Attributing his trouble to the leopard, evidently, he made a vicious slap at her with his great paw. She sprang aside, spitting and snarling. The lion pursued her; and, to escape, she sprang upon the slender trunk of the palm tree to whose top the balloon was tied, and began a nimble and quick ascent. “Oo—h!” Bob gasped. “Murder!” croaked Fitz Mee. Then, instantly, he jumped from the locker; and opened and shut the valve of the air-tank, three or four times in quick succession. “Pst! pst! pst!” hissed the escaping air, and the leopard, more alarmed at the unknown danger above than at the known danger below, gave a yowl of fright and leaped to the ground and loped out of sight. Bob heaved a sigh of relief. “Fitz,” he whispered, “playing with wild beasts is like playing with fire; a fellow’s likely to burn his fingers.” The goblin nodded; then he jerked out: “But look at the lion! Bob, look at the lion!” The noble animal was not content to go without a drink; and once more he was drawing near the spring, cautiously, slowly. A third time his nose and tongue touched the water; and a third time he The two aËronauts were hunkered upon the locker, leaning far over the rim of the basket and laughing heartily but softly. On a sudden the goblin’s hands slipped and he fell headlong from the car—turning completely over in mid air and lighting plump astride the lion’s back! |
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