"This continual flying about makes me light-headed," groaned the lion, hanging on to the arms of the seat with both paws.
"Where are we going, Notta?" gasped Bob, edging close to Snorer and peering giddily over the edge of the bus.
"Up as far as it takes us, and then—" Notta shuddered and clung dizzily to the wheel. And up they did go, faster and faster, until they lost all track of time and place and had not even breath enough to talk. Then, with a terrific crash, the Flyaboutabus ran into a small day star, turned completely over and spilled out the whole company.
There, caught by its feather wheel, it hung on the point of the star, while Notta, Bob, Nick and the Cowardly Lion fell head over heels through the air. Nick caught himself first and, flying after Bob, edged himself around until the little boy was on his back. Notta and the Cowardly Lion were falling together, first one and then the other on top, and Nick had to fly rapidly to keep pace with their falling.
"Oh, my quills and feathers!" spluttered the faithful bird, "they'll be shattered to bits! Oh, my tail and top knot! What shall I do? Bob I can save, but that beautiful clown will be broken to pieces!"
