"Well, if I'm to be eaten," gulped Pajuka sadly, with a last monstrous yawn, "I might as well be asleep anyway." Folding his head away dejectedly under his wing, he stood perfectly still. At this Snip felt so down-hearted that he sat on the floor and took the goose in his lap.
"Wonder what Mombi's doing," he shuddered, trying to catch a glimpse of the old witch through the chinks in the lattice. To tell the truth, Mombi was in as tight a catty corner as Snip. Having indulged her fondness for cats to the fullest extent and, noting with alarm the approach of night, she had finally risen and bidding the Catty Queen an affectionate farewell, declared herself ready to depart. "And the goose and boy must come with me," croaked Mombi, grinning secretly at the joke she had played on them.
"With you," cried the Cat Queen, springing up in alarm. "Why, you dear, ugly old darling, do you suppose I am ever going to let you go? Never! As for the boy—who cares for boys? He shall entertain us all day to-morrow. I'll call out my grand army of Maltesers, and they shall maul and tease him to death. What fun. And the goose! I could hug you for bringing that goose."
"But see here," panted Mombi in alarm, "I need that goose. I'm taking him as a present to Ozma, the Queen."
"Well, I'm a Queen," sniffed the Cat crossly, "and I don't give a yowl for Ozma. Come on, let's pluck out his feathers." And away across the garden scampered her Majesty. Mombi picked up her basket and followed in great haste. She knew that without Pajuka she would never recognize the King, nor regain her magic powers. Therefore, though she had no great love for the goose, she must find some way to save him.
"Wait!" puffed the old witch, catching up with the Queen. "Wait! I, myself, will prepare a feast to go with the goose. I am a famous cook and know more about roasts and sauces than anyone in Oz." Mombi rolled her eyes boastfully.
"Do you?" murmured the Imperial Pussy, stopping short and looking admiringly at the old witch.
"Did your Highness ever taste rice cream pudding?" inquired Mombi mysteriously. "No goose should be eaten without a dish of pudding before-hand. Keeps off the mullygrubs. Just let me make you a delicious little rice cream pudding!"
"Rice cream pudding? Why that sounds delicious!" purred the Queen, waving her tail rapturously. "Make enough for us all, dear old ugliness, and I'll take a cat nap while you do."
"Where's the kitchen?" demanded Mombi with a wicked grin. Already she had thought of a way out of her difficulties. Once in the catty kitchen, really only an enclosed corner of the garden with a stone fireplace and iron crane, Mombi set quickly to work. Filling the largest cauldron with rich cream from the fountain, she poured in all the boxes of rice she had in her basket and all the raisins. Then, setting it over the fire, which two tortoise shell cats kept at blazing point, she stirred and muttered and muttered and stirred, and just before it was done dropped in the contents of another of her purple cans.