"You must pull him along with you," directed the Scarecrow, earnestly. "I am too light. And DO let's be starting!" The angry buzz of the crowd on its way to Half Moon Lake, already could be heard. So, without stopping to plan or reason, the travellers from Oz slipped through the back curtains of the Royal Pavilion and began running as fast as they could toward the other side of Strut's curious air realm. The Wizard, grasping his kit bag in one hand and Dorothy by the other, went first. Next came Jellia, carrying the two flying sticks; the Scarecrow clutched his bunch of balloons. Last of all ran Wantowin, dragging the growling and disgusted lion after him through the air. Fortunately Stratovania is long and narrow. In less time than they had dared hope, the little cavalcade came to the edge. Forbidding cliffs stretched along the whole coast and the moist, blue air seemed actually to be breaking in great waves against the rocks. As they all gazed unhappily outward, a terrific "BOOM" made them all shudder.
"Well—there goes the Ozpril," mourned Jellia, patting the Wizard compassionately on the shoulder. The Wizard, looking very angry and grim, nodded his head. "Come on," puffed Jellia stepping closer to the cliffs, "unless we want to go up with the ship we've got to jump! And really—it's not so bad as it sounds! I've seen the airlanders fly with these winged staffs, and these two will have to do for us all."
"How do they work?" asked Dorothy in a faint voice.
"Why, you tap them once on the ground to start, and once on the handle to stop," explained Jellia breathlessly! "Now, suppose Dot and I and the Scarecrow ride one, and Wiz and the Soldier, the other. And for cake's sake—don't let go our lion!" added Jellia.
"But suppose he deflates and pulls us all down with his weight," groaned the Soldier. "Why can't he float along by himself?"
"Because I'm not going to have it!" said Jellia determinedly. "You must hold on to him and risk whatever happens! And if anything does happen, the Wizard will think of something!"
"I have thought of something!" said the Wizard, composedly. "But first we must do as Jellia says. HARK! Isn't that Kabebe calling you?" As a matter of fact, it was. The Stratovanians, after witnessing the blow-off of the Ozpril, had rushed back to the Royal Pavilion. Furious at the disappearance of their victims, they now were rushing toward the crystal cliffs, the screams of Kabebe rising above all the rest.
"What do we do—ride 'em like broomsticks?" jabbered the Scarecrow, as Jellia with shaking hands held out one of the sticks to the Wizard.