“Oh, horrors! Look!” exclaimed Coppertop, in tones of fear; and well she might, for as she watched Tibbs and Kiddiwee, a large crocodile—a crusty, carnivorous crocodile—came slowly out of the water and crawled towards her brothers.
“Oh, I must save them!” she cried, and with that one thought in her mind, she spread her wings for flight.
“But what of the West Wind, little one—and the December day?” said Waomba.
“Oh, how can you ask me to think of such a thing now,” almost sobbed Coppertop, “when they are in such dreadful danger?” So saying, she flew from the arms of Waomba toward the island in front of her.
“You’ve missed the West Wind entirely,” said a queer little voice beside her. “You’d better try the East Wind, now!”
Coppertop thought she recognised the voice, but there was no one to be seen.
“You’ve grown so big now that you can’t even see your old friends,” continued the small voice, good-naturedly. “But I’m here all the same—in fact, I’m everywhere. Come, come, my dear! Don’t say you’ve forgotten Mr. A. Tom.”
“No, of course I haven’t. But it’s hard to remember someone you can’t even see,” cried Coppertop. “And I’m so miserable!”