Part 15 (2/2)
”Oh, beg parding, I'm sure!” exclaimed Cap'n Bill, backing away.
”Don't mention it,” replied the crab in a tired tone. ”You did not disturb me, so there is no harm done.”
”We didn't know you were here,” explained Trot.
”Probably not,” said the crab. ”It's no place for me, anyhow, for I belong in the Constellations, you know, with Taurus and Gemini and the other fellows. But I had the misfortune to tumble out of the Zodiac some time ago. My name is Cancer, but I'm not a disease. Those who examine the heavens in these days, alas! can find no Cancer there.”
”Yes we can, sir, Mister Cancer!” said the parrot with a chuckle.
”Once,” remarked Cap'n Bill, ”I sawr a picter of you in an almanac.”
”Ah, the almanacs always did us full justice,” the crab replied, ”but I'm told they're not fas.h.i.+onable now.”
”If you don't mind, we'd like to pa.s.s on,” said b.u.t.ton-Bright.
”No, I don't mind, but be careful not to step on my legs. They're rheumatic, it's so moist here.”
They climbed over some of the huge legs and walked around others. Soon they had left the creature far behind. ”Aren't you rather slow?” asked the frog when once more they came up to him.
”It isn't that,” said Trot. ”You are rather swift, I guess.” The frog chuckled and leaped again. They noticed that the fog had caught a soft rose tint and was lighter and less dense than before, for which reason the sailor remarked that they must be getting near to the Pink Country.
On this jump they saw nothing but a monstrous turtle, which lay asleep with its head and legs drawn into its sh.e.l.l. It was not in their way, so they hurried on and rejoined the frog, which said to them, ”I'm sorry, but I'm due at the King's Court in a few minutes, and I can't wait for your short, weak legs to make the journey to the Pink Country.
But if you will climb upon my back, I think I can carry you to the border in one more leap.”
”I'm tired,” said Trot, ”an' this awful fog's beginnin' to choke me.
Let's ride on the frog, Cap'n.”
”Right you are, mate,” he replied, and although he shook a bit with fear, the old man at once began to climb to the frog's back. Trot seated herself on one side of him and b.u.t.ton-bright on the other, and the sailor put his arms around them both to hold them tight together.
”Are you ready?” asked the frog.
”Ding-dong!” cried the parrot.
”All aboard, let 'er go!
Jump the best jump that you know.”
”Don't--don't! Jump sort o' easy, please,” begged Cap'n Bill.
But the frog was unable to obey his request. Its powerful hind legs straightened like steel springs and shot the big body, with its pa.s.sengers, through the fog like an arrow launched from a bow. They gasped for breath and tried to hang on, and then suddenly the frog landed just at the edge of the Fog Bank, stopping so abruptly that his three riders left his back and shot far ahead of him. They felt the fog melt away and found themselves bathed in glorious rays of suns.h.i.+ne, but they had no time to consider this change because they were still shooting through the air, and presently--before they could think of anything at all--all three were rolling heels over head on the soft gra.s.s of a meadow.
THE PINK COUNTRY
CHAPTER 13
When the travelers could collect their senses and sit up, they stared about them in bewilderment, for the transition from the sticky, damp fog to this brilliant scene was so abrupt as to daze them at first.
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