Two Cowardly Lion Hunters

For a time Notta and Bob Up sat quietly under the tree, each busy with his own thoughts. The clown was repeating to himself Mustafa's warning, and trying to recall some mention of such a country as Mudge in the geographies he had studied. The little boy was thinking that at this time yesterday he was calmly eating oatmeal and apple sauce, with nothing more exciting ahead than lessons and bed. Perhaps he was asleep, and dreaming about lions and blue whiskered Mudgers. He touched Notta experimentally, to see if he would disappear or turn suddenly to the harsh-voiced matron of the orphan asylum. But the clown only turned a neat somersault, walked a few paces on his hands and sat down again.

"Bob," asked the clown, tilting his cap forward so he could scratch his ear, "do I look like a lion hunter?"

Bob Up shook his head slowly and almost laughed. Something inside tickled tremendously, but he remembered, just in time, that laughing was against the rules of the orphan home, so he swallowed instead.

"We're both lion hunters," observed the clown reflectively, "and that being the case we had better start hunting at once, for it would never do for the lions to find us first. It's like a game of hide-and-seek, Bob. So long as we are hunting him, this Cowardly Lion is it. But if we stop hunting, then we're it. In a game of hide-and-seek with a lion, it's your hide or his. Being it, means being et, hide-and-seek and all!"

Notta glanced slyly at Bob out of the corner of his eye to see whether he was going to smile. Bob was looking uncertainly at the forest, stretching so darkly ahead, and thinking he would just as soon not play this game of hide-and-seek at all. But as Notta had already started toward the forest, there was nothing for him to do but follow. The short, spring afternoon was drawing to a close and a round silver moon showed faintly over the tree tops.

"Things might be a lot better, and again they might be a lot worse," mused Notta, as they walked along under the trees. "Why, if you were in the home, you would probably be eating corn meal mush for supper and—"

"What are we going to have for supper, Notta?" asked Bob, looking up at the clown inquiringly.

"Well, hurrah!" shouted the clown, turning a rapid cartwheel. "You're getting on, my lad; called me Notta as natural as a brother. As to supper, that depends on Mustafa. Let's see what the old rascal has given us."

On a flat stump that happened to be near, Notta opened one of the packets and set out a regular feast. There were dozens of small meat sandwiches, there were ripe figs, a jar of honey, and a little jug full of blue tea, which they found most refreshing. After they had feasted, Notta carefully packed up the rest and, feeling more cheerful, the two cowardly lion hunters stepped along through the forest.

"I can't make out where we are, at all," said the clown presently, "but in a country where lions talk, and verses fling one about, it's safer to obey orders, don't you think so, Bob Up, my boy? So long as we travel towards this Emerald City we are obeying orders and are safe from Mustafa's ring. When we get there is time enough to worry about the Cowardly Lion. Now take an Emerald City, Bob; did you ever hear of such a place? Why, it's as strange as blue whiskers and cowardly lions. Everything's strange. In fact, I think we've fallen into one of these fairy tales. I always had a kind of notion they were true!"

"But the Cowardly Lion liked Dorothy," burst out Bob quite unexpectedly, "so maybe he will like us." He had been turning slowly over in his mind the few facts he had managed to read in the lion book.

"Why, bless my heart!" cried the clown, looking down at Bob admiringly, "so he did, and furthermore, didn't that book say Dorothy was from Kansas?"

Bob Up nodded solemnly.

"Well, then everything's clear as candy!" Notta turned a somersault from pure relief. "We'll go straight to this Emerald City and tell our troubles to Dorothy, and when she learns that we are from the United States, surely she will help us to get back, and if we could take a couple of talking lions along our fortune would be made. Why, even Barnum and Bailey never showed a talking lion."

Notta was so enthusiastic by this time that he fairly bounced along. But Bob was growing sleepy. He found it harder and harder to keep pace with Notta's long legs, and finally fell sprawling over the roots of a large tree. Notta had him up in a minute.

"Lights out?" chuckled the clown, touching Bob's eyelids gently. "Well, then, let's go to bed. It's too dark to go on, anyway."

"I don't see any beds," sighed Bob, leaning wearily against the clown's knee.

"Neither do I," admitted the clown, "but we'll just pretend we're flowers, and sleep on the ground." In a minute the clown had raked a pile of leaves together under the tree and placed Bob carefully in the center.

"Are there any bears in this wood?" asked Bob, looking around doubtfully. It was quite dark now, and the moonlight sifting through the leaves made queer shapes out of all the shadows.

"This isn't a bear forest," said Notta positively. "I think it's a fairy forest, Bob, and that reminds me of a song I used to know."

Reaching over, Notta pulled the little boy into his big, comfortable lap, and with a twinkle in his eyes he put his back against the tree and began to sing:

There was another verse to the song, and Bob, leaning drowsily against Notta's chest, thought he had never heard anything so perfectly beautiful. He had never sat on a real lap before, nor had a song sung especially for him. So the little boy snuggled down contentedly, his eyes straying to the moon, just visible above the tree tops. Why, there was a string on it, a bright silver string, and a little, old man was holding to the end, just as Notta had sung!

"Fast asleep," muttered the clown, holding Bob a bit tighter. And so he was fast asleep and dreaming of the sandman's balloon. Notta meant to keep awake, for he was not so sure there were no bears in this dark forest, but the day's experiences had so tired him that, in a short time, he was sound asleep himself.

No sooner had Notta's eyes closed, than a little, bent fairyman came tip-toeing from behind the tree. He held his lantern close to Notta's face.

"Such a beautiful voice," sighed the little fellow to himself. "It would be a shame to have it swallowed up by one of the forest creatures. And this must be a child." He held his lantern close to Bob's red head. He watched them for a while in silence, then pulling his silvery beard thoughtfully, set the little red lantern beside them and pattered off into the darkness.

Notta had been right. It was a fairy forest. Every forest in the wonderful land of Oz is a fairy forest, inhabited by strange creatures and peoples. But the clown's song had so pleased the old fairyman that he determined to protect the two strangers from all harm, and though many bears and other beasts came snuffling past, they dared not approach, for the red lantern told them plainly it was "Claws off." So grumbling and growling, they went searching further for their dinners.

The little lantern disappeared with the first ray of sunshine and, quite unconscious of the dangers they had slept through, Notta and Bob awoke almost at the same minute.

"Well," yawned Notta, winking the only eye he had open, "we're still here, I see." He rolled over and over and turned a dozen handsprings to get the kinks out of his back. "I've often wondered what made flowers so stiff and now I know. It's sleeping on the ground. I'm glad I'm not a flower, aren't you, Bob?"

Bob nodded and hopped up quite briskly. There was a fine breeze blowing, and the day was so sunny and bright that he felt ready for anything, and just to look at Notta made him feel happy.

"Do you think we'll find the Emerald City to-day?" he asked, skipping along beside the clown, who was making for a little brook just ahead.

"Well, according to Mustafa, it ought to take three days," answered Notta. "But Mustafa was never in a circus, and anyone who has been in a circus can travel three times as fast as other folks, so I shouldn't be surprised at all if we were to be eating our supper in this Emerald City to-night. If I had only wished old Billy along he could have carried us in style."

"The elephant?" exclaimed Bob, with round eyes. The clown nodded and, kneeling down on the edge of the brook, began to splash water on his face and hands. Bob did the same, and had just taken off his shoes in order to paddle properly, when a cry from Notta made him pause.

"Now I've done it," wailed the clown dolefully, jumping up and down.

"What?" asked Bob curiously.

"Washed my face." Notta pointed to his face, which was quite red and shiny from the cold water. "And I haven't any powder! Have you any powder, Bob? Oh, my! Cold pie! It's hard enough to be funny with a white face, but without one I simply could not joke at all. Whatever's to become of us? I'm no clown this way."

Bob was terribly distressed, for if Notta couldn't be funny nothing would seem the same. He felt hastily in his pockets—not that he expected to find anything, but because he didn't know what else to do—and in the last one his hand closed on a bag of candy the old gentleman had bought for him at the circus. It was squashed and sticky from being slept on, but mechanically Bob handed it over.

"Why, it's marshmallows!" cried Notta in delight. "Bob, you have saved the honor of my profession. We must preserve these carefully." He patted his face with a small sugary marshmallow and surveyed his reflection with pleased satisfaction. "I feel funny already," he announced cheerfully. Bob was much relieved and Notta did look more natural with his face whitened.

"Now for breakfast," said the clown, licking the sugar off his lips. It was great fun, Bob thought, washing in a brook and having breakfast under the trees. After finishing off some more of Mustafa's sandwiches, they started quite briskly through the forest.

"I think the rules are going to work better to-day," chuckled the clown, "I will use disguise number three. Number three's a bear, Bob Up. Now, here's our program, first disguise, then politeness, then joke and run. We shall get along famously." Notta sprang into the air and clicked his heels together for very light-heartedness.

Bob was thinking to himself that Notta's last disguise had not helped them much, but he was too polite to mention such a thing, and as there seemed to be no danger in sight he trotted along contentedly, stopping now and then to pick the bright blue flowers that grew everywhere under the trees. The forest was not so large as it had seemed in the night, and in an hour they had come to the end of it and started down a narrow lane.

"Well, we're still going north." Notta looked complacently at a large sign post that stood at the beginning of the lane.

"North Road to D," said the sign briefly.

"Wonder what D stands for?"

"Because it can't sit down." The sign snapped out the sentence so suddenly that Notta tripped and fell over a stone, and Bob simply gasped with astonishment.