"The Uns?" asked the lion, opening his eyes very wide.
"Yes," said Notta, and told how the Featherheads had pushed both Bob and himself from the skyle and, without stopping to notice that they were tied or to touch the Cowardly Lion, had run off without making a sound. "It was a mighty good thing we were anchored, eh, Bob, my boy? Feel better?"
Bob shook his head uncertainly, for he was still frightened and dizzy from swinging through the air.
The stars had faded out and the sun had not yet risen and in the cold gray mist of early morning the three huddled together and tried to think what to do.
"First, let's get away from the edge," shuddered the Cowardly Lion. Cutting the fishing lines that had saved their lives, Notta set Bob on the Cowardly Lion's back and they moved slowly in the half darkness toward the center of the skyle. The Uns evidently had gone off to their homes, and with some matches Notta had tucked under his wonderful belt they kindled a little fire and soon were dry and much more cheerful. Bob immediately went to sleep, but Notta and the Cowardly Lion kept watch.
For an hour there was not a sound. Then the noise of someone sawing wood came distinctly through the still air. Leaving the Cowardly Lion on guard, Notta went to investigate. He tiptoed along quietly, resolved if it were an Un to wish him away to Mudge. As he advanced the sawing grew louder and louder and, peering around a large tree, he saw a huge and ridiculous bird flopped over against a rock, snoring at a great rate.
As Notta looked the bird opened one eye, stamped its big claws fretfully, and immediately fell to snoring again. The clown took off his cap, scratched his ear and then burst into a loud peal of laughter, which he could not have helped had he died the next minute. The bird stopped snoring instantly, and opened both eyes.
"What do you mean by waking me when I was sound asleep," it chirped crossly.
"A great many sounds of sleep," corrected Notta, winking at the singular creature. "I thought someone was sawing down a tree."
"Did you?" The bird looked rather proud and began to puff out its feathers. "I'm the loudest snorer in the sky," it announced, strutting about self-consciously. "That's why my beak curls in this convenient fashion."