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Herby had been quite right about the speeches. Almost everyone at the table made a speech,
complimenting the little Prince on his bravery and wishing him success on his perilous journey. But the
Medicine Man's pills worked so well that neither he nor Philador yawned even once during the entire
procedure. As for the luncheon, it might have been a birthday party at least, from the number of goodies
served. What with the chicken and waffles, sweet potatoes and hot biscuits, not to mention the cream
cake, custard pie and lavender ices, Philador decided he could never be hungry again.
Queen Hyacinth had ordered a lunch packed up for the travelers, and when Herby and
Philador both declared they could not eat another bite, Joe King himself went off to search for his high
horse.
"On High Boy you will reach the capital in no time," His Majesty assured them earnestly, "and
when you have saved the Ozure Isles and saved your royal mother, you must come back and pay us a
real visit."
This Philador readily promised to do; also to find out from Ozma what had become of the
Good Witch of the North for, without a ruler, the Gilliken Country was open to war and invasion by
hostile tribes. While they were waiting for the high horse to appear, Phil and the Medicine Man
expressed a desire to walk about the city. Joe, giving each of them an umbrella, in case a storm came up,
as he put it, hurried off to find High Boy himself.
Greatly encouraged by the happy change in their fortunes, Philador and Herby walked briskly
along High Street, stopping now and then to gaze in shop windows or to wave to the friendly children
playing in the doorways. They were careful to keep close to the castle and were about to turn back,
when a great gust of wind came tearing across the town, flattening them against the side of a house. They
had just time to open their umbrellas when the storm broke with such suddenness and fury that they could
neither see, hear nor call for help. And help they most certainly needed.
Philador had a confused glimpse of an old Uplander putting down his umbrella and jumping
into it, before the wind seized his own and whirled him aloft like a kite. Drenched and breathless, he
soared over the city. Fortunately the wind was light and buoyant and the umbrella strong and sturdy, so
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that when it did come down Philador landed gently enough. The storm seemed to be left behind and
scrambling to his feet, the little Prince looked anxiously upward. He was at the very bottom of Joe King's
mountain and the top was still hidden by the black storm clouds. Though he looked and looked, not one
glimpse of the castle nor city towers could he catch. With a discouraged sigh, he turned about just in time
to see the Medicine Man sail down into the midst of a huckleberry bush.
"Well!" spluttered Herby, putting down his umbrella and pulling himself out with great difficulty.
"What do you think of this?"
"Not much," confessed Philador ruefully. "We've lost High Boy and we haven't time to go
back and-"
"The Good Witch's thinking cap is gone too," mourned the Medicine Man, clapping his hand
to his head. "We'll have to do our own thinking hereafter." Herby opened his medicine chest and peered
in, and presently he was crunching away at one of his remedies. When Philador, who had been looking
about, called that he was ready to start, the Medicine Man came almost cheerfully.
"We still have the jumping rope," he reminded the little boy happily. "And we still have the
lunch basket and we're over the first mountain.
Philador nodded soberly and wondered what Herby had been taking to make him so cheerful.
For his part, he could not help thinking that their fall had been most unfortunate. Without the thinking cap
how were they to know which direction to take, and without High Boy's long legs to help them how were
they ever to reach the Emerald City in time? Ahead loomed a still higher mountain. Sighing deeply he
trudged along the rocky little path, his head down and the lunch basket trailing listlessly from his hand.
"If we'd only stayed in the castle," he mused sorrowfully, "this never would have happened."
Herby did not answer but quietly passed him a small round box. "Comfort pills. Will cure any trouble that
hasn't happened," announced the label. Absently the little Prince took two and handed the box back. As
he popped the pills into his mouth, there was a joyful snort and stamp behind them. It was the King's
horse, and with outspread arms Philador ran to meet him.
"Why didn't you wait for me?" whinnied High Boy, lowering himself down to the little boy's
height and looking reproachfully into his eyes. "I've been looking for you all over the mountain.
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"The storm came up and blew us away, explained Philador hastily.
"Did you put your umbrellas down?" asked High Boy, nodding amiably to the Medicine Man.
"Why should we put them down?" questioned Herby, puckering up his forehead, "It was
raining!"
"Of course it was raining. Wasn't I there too, but you must know that in our country, the
storms come up and the thing to do is to put your umbrella down and jump in it. Like this," explained
High Boy, swinging his umbrella tail expertly under his telescope legs and standing calmly in the center of
it. "Then when the rain comes, you don't get wet or blown away. Always put your umbrella down when a
storm comes up," he finished, jumping out of his umbrella and swinging it back into place.
Philador was too surprised to make any remark, but Herby, delighted to see the King's
famous steed, put his foot into the stirrup and pulled up into the saddle.
"Do you know the way to the Emerald City?" he asked breathlessly.
"Two mountains and a couple of countries to the South," answered High Boy carelessly. "Up
with you Princeling, four legs are better than two, especially when they are my kind." To this Philador
could agree most heartily, and swinging himself up in front of Herby, he took the reins hanging loosely
round High Boy's neck and begged him to start.
"I always did want to see the capital," confessed High Boy trotting smartly along the stony
mountain path. "I hear that there is a saw horse at the Emerald City, and I want to see whether he is as
handsome and as useful as I am."
"He couldn't possibly be as nice," sighed Philador, putting both arms round High Boy's neck.
"You're even better than my sea horse."
"Hey! Hey! Well, what do you think of that?" With a snort of surprise and pleasure, the King's
horse set off for the second mountain at such a pace that the wind whistled by like a hurricane.
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"Hold on, boys," he neighed boisterously. "I'm your friend for life!"
"A~very~fast friend!" stuttered Herby, clutching Philador by the belt and wincing each time he
struck the saddle. And so up the mountain pounded High Boy, his front legs short, his back legs long and
his umbrella tail switching behind him.
CHAPTER 11
The King of Cave City
THE same morning that Philador was having his amazing experiences in the Good Witch's hut
and on Joe King's Mountain, Trot and her friends were having some curious adventures in Cave City.
"Where are we going?" asked Trot, following the old mer-man cautiously and once almost
treading on his tail.
"To the King," answered the mer-man sadly. "Do you call this a city?" sniffed the Scarecrow,
looking scornfully down the dim damp corridors opening to the right and left and the muddy stream of
water flowing through the center.
"No, I don't call it a city," wheezed their guide resting for a few moments on his crutches, "but
you had better not let the cave men hear you criticizing their town. It will go hard enough with you as it
is." Sighing to himself the old fellow went tapping along on his crutches. "Wait till Silly sees you," he
mumbled mournfully.
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