"Why, they have drawn their swords!" responded the captain, reproachfully.
"Who cares?" roared the sorcerer.
"We care," said the captain, giving a shudder, as he looked upon the strangers. "Their swords are sharp, and some of us would get hurt."
"You're cowards!" shrieked the enraged Kwytoffle. "I'll turn you all into June-bugs!"
At this threat the soldiers dropped their swords and axes, and all fell upon their knees, trembling visibly and imploring their cruel master not to change them into june-bugs.
"Bah!" cried Nerle, scornfully; "why don't you fight? If we kill you, then you will escape being June-bugs."
"The fact is," said the captain, woefully, "we simply can't fight. For our swords are only tin, and our axes are made of wood, with silver-paper pasted over them."
"But why is that?" asked Wul-Takim, while all the party showed their surprise.
"Why, until now we have never had any need to fight," said the captain, "for every one has quickly surrendered to us or run away the moment we came near. But you people do not appear to be properly frightened, and now, alas! since you have drawn upon us the great sorcerer's anger, we shall all be transformed into June-bugs."
"Yes!" roared Kwytoffle, hopping up and down with anger, "you shall all be June-bugs, and these strangers I will transform into grasshoppers!"