On a flat stump that happened to be near, Notta opened one of the packets and set out a regular feast. There were dozens of small meat sandwiches, there were ripe figs, a jar of honey, and a little jug full of blue tea, which they found most refreshing. After they had feasted, Notta carefully packed up the rest and, feeling more cheerful, the two cowardly lion hunters stepped along through the forest.
"I can't make out where we are, at all," said the clown presently, "but in a country where lions talk, and verses fling one about, it's safer to obey orders, don't you think so, Bob Up, my boy? So long as we travel towards this Emerald City we are obeying orders and are safe from Mustafa's ring. When we get there is time enough to worry about the Cowardly Lion. Now take an Emerald City, Bob; did you ever hear of such a place? Why, it's as strange as blue whiskers and cowardly lions. Everything's strange. In fact, I think we've fallen into one of these fairy tales. I always had a kind of notion they were true!"
"But the Cowardly Lion liked Dorothy," burst out Bob quite unexpectedly, "so maybe he will like us." He had been turning slowly over in his mind the few facts he had managed to read in the lion book.
"Why, bless my heart!" cried the clown, looking down at Bob admiringly, "so he did, and furthermore, didn't that book say Dorothy was from Kansas?"
Bob Up nodded solemnly.
"Well, then everything's clear as candy!" Notta turned a somersault from pure relief. "We'll go straight to this Emerald City and tell our troubles to Dorothy, and when she learns that we are from the United States, surely she will help us to get back, and if we could take a couple of talking lions along our fortune would be made. Why, even Barnum and Bailey never showed a talking lion."
Notta was so enthusiastic by this time that he fairly bounced along. But Bob was growing sleepy. He found it harder and harder to keep pace with Notta's long legs, and finally fell sprawling over the roots of a large tree. Notta had him up in a minute.
"Lights out?" chuckled the clown, touching Bob's eyelids gently. "Well, then, let's go to bed. It's too dark to go on, anyway."
"I don't see any beds," sighed Bob, leaning wearily against the clown's knee.
"Neither do I," admitted the clown, "but we'll just pretend we're flowers, and sleep on the ground." In a minute the clown had raked a pile of leaves together under the tree and placed Bob carefully in the center.