When Dorothy recovered her
senses they were still falling,
but not so fast. The top of
the buggy caught the air like
a parachute or an umbrella
filled with wind, and held
them back so that they floated
downward with a gentle motion
that was not so very disagreeable
to bear. The worst thing was
their terror of reaching the
bottom of this great crack
in the earth, and the natural
fear that sudden death was
about to overtake them at any
moment. Crash after crash echoed
far above their heads, as the
earth came together where it
had split, and stones and chunks
of clay rattled around them
on every side. These they could
not see, but they could feel
them pelting the buggy top,
and Jim screamed almost like
a human being when a stone
overtook him and struck his
boney body. They did not really
hurt the poor horse, because
everything was falling together;
only the stones and rubbish
fell faster than the horse
and buggy, which were held
back by the pressure of the
air, so that the terrified
animal was actually more frightened
than he was injured.
How long this state of things
continued Dorothy could not
even guess, she was so greatly
bewildered. But bye and bye,
as she stared ahead into the
black chasm with a beating
heart, she began to dimly see
the form of the horse Jim--his
head up in the air, his ears
erect and his long legs sprawling
in every direction as he tumbled
through space. Also, turning
her head, she found that she
could see the boy beside her,
who had until now remained
as still and silent as she
herself.
Dorothy sighed and commenced
to breathe easier. She began
to realize that death was not
in store for her, after all,
but that she had merely started
upon another adventure, which
promised to be just as queer
and unusual as were those she
had before encountered.
With this thought in mind
the girl took heart and leaned
her head over the side of the
buggy to see where the strange
light was coming from. Far
below her she found six great
glowing balls suspended in
the air. The central and largest
one was white, and reminded
her of the sun. Around it were
arranged, like the five points
of a star, the other five brilliant
balls; one being rose colored,
one violet, one yellow, one
blue and one orange. This splendid
group of colored suns sent
rays darting in every direction,
and as the horse and buggy--with
Dorothy and Zeb--sank steadily
downward and came nearer to
the lights, the rays began
to take on all the delicate
tintings of a rainbow, growing
more and more distinct every
moment until all the space
was brilliantly illuminated.
Dorothy was too dazed to
say much, but she watched one
of Jim's big ears turn to violet
and the other to rose, and
wondered that his tail should
be yellow and his body striped
with blue and orange like the
stripes of a zebra. Then she
looked at Zeb, whose face was
blue and whose hair was pink,
and gave a little laugh that
sounded a bit nervous.
"Isn't it funny?" she
said.
The boy was startled and
his eyes were big. Dorothy
had a green streak through
the center of her face where
the blue and yellow lights
came together, and her appearance
seemed to add to his fright.
"I--I don't s-s-see any-thing
funny--'bout it!" he stammered.
Just then the buggy tipped
slowly over upon its side,
the body of the horse tipping
also. But they continued to
fall, all together, and the
boy and girl had no difficulty
in remaining upon the seat,
just as they were before. Then
they turned bottom side up,
and continued to roll slowly
over until they were right
side up again. During this
time Jim struggled frantically,
all his legs kicking the air;
but on finding himself in his
former position the horse said,
in a relieved tone of voice:
"Well,
that's
better!"
Dorothy and Zeb looked at
one another in wonder.
"Can your horse talk?" she
asked.
"Never knew him to, before," replied
the boy.
"Those were the first words
I ever said," called out the
horse, who had overheard them, "and
I can't explain why I happened
to speak then. This is a nice
scrape you've got me into,
isn't it?"
"As for that, we are in the
same scrape ourselves," answered
Dorothy, cheerfully. "But never
mind; something will happen
pretty soon."
"Of course," growled the
horse, "and then we shall be
sorry it happened."
Zeb gave a shiver. All this
was so terrible and unreal
that he could not understand
it at all, and so had good
reason to be afraid.
Swiftly they drew near to
the flaming colored suns, and
passed close beside them. The
light was then so bright that
it dazzled their eyes, and
they covered their faces with
their hands to escape being
blinded. There was no heat
in the colored suns, however,
and after they had passed below
them the top of the buggy shut
out many of the piercing rays
so that the boy and girl could
open their eyes again.
"We've got to come to the
bottom some time," remarked
Zeb, with a deep sigh. "We
can't keep falling forever,
you know."
"Of course not," said Dorothy. "We
are somewhere in the middle
of the earth, and the chances
are we'll reach the other side
of it before long. But it's
a big hollow, isn't it?"
"Awful big!" answered
the boy.
"We're coming to something
now," announced the horse.
At this they both put their
heads over the side of the
buggy and looked down. Yes;
there was land below them;
and not so very far away, either.
But they were floating very,
very slowly--so slowly that
it could no longer be called
a fall--and the children had
ample time to take heart and
look about them.
They saw a landscape with
mountains and plains, lakes
and rivers, very like those
upon the earth's surface; but
all the scene was splendidly
colored by the variegated lights
from the six suns. Here and
there were groups of houses
that seemed made of clear glass,
because they sparkled so brightly.
"I'm sure we are in no danger," said
Dorothy, in a sober voice. "We
are falling so slowly that
we can't be dashed to pieces
when we land, and this country
that we are coming to seems
quite pretty."
"We'll never get home again,
though!" declared Zeb, with
a groan.
"Oh, I'm not so sure of that," replied
the girl. "But don't let us
worry over such things, Zeb;
we can't help ourselves just
now, you know, and I've always
been told it's foolish to borrow
trouble."
The boy became silent, having
no reply to so sensible a speech,
and soon both were fully occupied
in staring at the strange scenes
spread out below them. They
seemed to be falling right
into the middle of a big city
which had many tall buildings
with glass domes and sharp-pointed
spires. These spires were like
great spear-points, and if
they tumbled upon one of them
they were likely to suffer
serious injury.
Jim the horse had seen these
spires, also, and his ears
stood straight up with fear,
while Dorothy and Zeb held
their breaths in suspense.
But no; they floated gently
down upon a broad, flat roof,
and came to a stop at last.
When Jim felt something firm
under his feet the poor beast's
legs trembled so much that
he could hardly stand; but
Zeb at once leaped out of the
buggy to the roof, and he was
so awkward and hasty that he
kicked over Dorothy's bird-cage,
which rolled out upon the roof
so that the bottom came off.
At once a pink kitten crept
out of the upset cage, sat
down upon the glass roof, and
yawned and blinked its round
eyes.
"Oh," said Dorothy. "There's
Eureka."
"First time I ever saw a
pink cat," said Zeb.
"Eureka
isn't pink;
she's white.
It's this
queer light
that gives her that color."
"Where's my milk?" asked
the kitten, looking up into
Dorothy's face. "I'm 'most
starved to death."
"Oh,
Eureka!
Can you
talk?"
"Talk! Am I talking? Good
gracious, I believe I am. Isn't
it funny?" asked the kitten.
"It's all wrong." said Zeb,
gravely. "Animals ought not
to talk. But even old Jim has
been saying things since we
had our accident."
"I can't see that it's wrong," remarked
Jim, in his gruff tones. "At
least, it isn't as wrong as
some other things. What's going
to become of us now?"
"I don't know," answered
the boy, looking around him
curiously.
The houses of the city were
all made of glass, so clear
and transparent that one could
look through the walls as easily
as through a window. Dorothy
saw, underneath the roof on
which she stood, several rooms
used for rest chambers, and
even thought she could make
out a number of queer forms
huddled into the corners of
these rooms.
The roof beside them had
a great hole smashed through
it, and pieces of glass were
lying scattered in every direction.
A nearby steeple had been broken
off short and the fragments
lay heaped beside it. Other
buildings were cracked in places
or had corners chipped off
from them; but they must have
been very beautiful before
these accidents had happened
to mar their perfection. The
rainbow tints from the colored
suns fell upon the glass city
softly and gave to the buildings
many delicate, shifting hues
which were very pretty to see.
But not a sound had broken
the stillness since the strangers
had arrived, except that of
their own voices. They began
to wonder if there were no
people to inhabit this magnificent
city of the inner world.
Suddenly a man appeared through
a hole in the roof next to
the one they were on and stepped
into plain view. He was not
a very large man, but was well
formed and had a beautiful
face--calm and serene as the
face of a fine portrait. His
clothing fitted his form snugly
and was gorgeously colored
in brilliant shades of green,
which varied as the sunbeams
touched them but was not wholly
influenced by the solar rays.
The man had taken a step
or two across the glass roof
before he noticed the presence
of the strangers; but then
he stopped abruptly. There
was no expression of either
fear or surprise upon his tranquil
face, yet he must have been
both astonished and afraid;
for after his eyes had rested
upon the ungainly form of the
horse for a moment he walked
rapidly to the furthest edge
of the roof, his head turned
back over his shoulder to gaze
at the strange animal.
"Look out!" cried Dorothy,
who noticed that the beautiful
man did not look where he was
going; "be careful, or you'll
fall off!"
But he paid no attention
to her warning. He reached
the edge of the tall roof,
stepped one foot out into the
air, and walked into space
as calmly as if he were on
firm ground.
The girl, greatly astonished,
ran to lean over the edge of
the roof, and saw the man walking
rapidly through the air toward
the ground. Soon he reached
the street and disappeared
through a glass doorway into
one of the glass buildings.
"How strange!" she
exclaimed,
drawing a long breath.
"Yes; but it's lots of fun,
if it IS strange," remarked
the small voice of the kitten,
and Dorothy turned to find
her pet walking in the air
a foot or so away from the
edge of the roof.
"Come back, Eureka!" she
called, in distress, "you'll
certainly be killed."
"I have nine lives," said
the kitten, purring softly
as it walked around in a circle
and then came back to the roof; "but
I can't lose even one of them
by falling in this country,
because I really couldn't manage
to fall if I wanted to."
"Does the air bear up your
weight?" asked the girl.
"Of course; can't you see?" and
again the kitten wandered into
the air and back to the edge
of the roof.
"It's wonderful!" said
Dorothy.
"Suppose we let Eureka go
down to the street and get
some one to help us," suggested
Zeb, who had been even more
amazed than Dorothy at these
strange happenings.
"Perhaps we can walk on the
air ourselves," replied the
girl.
Zeb drew back with a shiver.
"I wouldn't dare try," he
said.
"Maybe Jim will go," continued
Dorothy, looking at the horse.
"And maybe he won't!" answered
Jim. "I've tumbled through
the air long enough to make
me contented on this roof."
"But we didn't tumble to
the roof," said the girl; "by
the time we reached here we
were floating very slowly,
and I'm almost sure we could
float down to the street without
getting hurt. Eureka walks
on the air all right."
"Eureka weights only about
half a pound," replied the
horse, in a scornful tone, "while
I weigh about half a ton."
"You don't weigh as much
as you ought to, Jim," remarked
the girl, shaking her head
as she looked at the animal. "You're
dreadfully skinny."
"Oh, well; I'm old," said
the horse, hanging his head
despondently, "and I've had
lots of trouble in my day,
little one. For a good many
years I drew a public cab in
Chicago, and that's enough
to make anyone skinny."
"He eats enough to get fat,
I'm sure," said the boy, gravely.
"Do I? Can you remember any
breakfast that I've had today?" growled
Jim, as if he resented Zeb's
speech.
"None of us has had breakfast," said
the boy; "and in a time of
danger like this it's foolish
to talk about eating."
"Nothing is more dangerous
than being without food," declared
the horse, with a sniff at
the rebuke of his young master; "and
just at present no one can
tell whether there are any
oats in this queer country
or not. If there are, they
are liable to be glass oats!"
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Dorothy. "I
can see plenty of nice gardens
and fields down below us, at
the edge of this city. But
I wish we could find a way
to get to the ground."
"Why don't you walk down?" asked
Eureka. "I'm as hungry as the
horse is, and I want my milk."
"Will you try it, Zeb" asked
the girl, turning to her companion.
Zeb hesitated. He was still
pale and frightened, for this
dreadful adventure had upset
him and made him nervous and
worried. But he did not wish
the little girl to think him
a coward, so he advanced slowly
to the edge of the roof.
Dorothy stretched out a hand
to him and Zeb put one foot
out and let it rest in the
air a little over the edge
of the roof. It seemed firm
enough to walk upon, so he
took courage and put out the
other foot. Dorothy kept hold
of his hand and followed him,
and soon they were both walking
through the air, with the kitten
frisking beside them.
"Come on, Jim!" called the
boy. "It's all right."
Jim had crept to the edge
of the roof to look over, and
being a sensible horse and
quite experienced, he made
up his mind that he could go
where the others did. So, with
a snort and a neigh and a whisk
of his short tail he trotted
off the roof into the air and
at once began floating downward
to the street. His great weight
made him fall faster than the
children walked, and he passed
them on the way down; but when
he came to the glass pavement
he alighted upon it so softly
that he was not even jarred.
"Well, well!" said Dorothy,
drawing a long breath, "What
a strange country this is."
People began to come out
of the glass doors to look
at the new arrivals, and pretty
soon quite a crowd had assembled.
There were men and women, but
no children at all, and the
folks were all beautifully
formed and attractively dressed
and had wonderfully handsome
faces. There was not an ugly
person in all the throng, yet
Dorothy was not especially
pleased by the appearance of
these people because their
features had no more expression
than the faces of dolls. They
did not smile nor did they
frown, or show either fear
or surprise or curiosity or
friendliness. They simply started
at the strangers, paying most
attention to Jim and Eureka,
for they had never before seen
either a horse or a cat and
the children bore an outward
resemblance to themselves.
Pretty soon a man joined
the group who wore a glistening
star in the dark hair just
over his forehead. He seemed
to be a person of authority,
for the others pressed back
to give him room. After turning
his composed eyes first upon
the animals and then upon the
children he said to Zeb, who
was a little taller than Dorothy:
"Tell
me, intruder,
was it
you who
caused
the Rain
of
Stones?"
For a moment the boy did
not know what he meant by this
question. Then, remembering
the stones that had fallen
with them and passed them long
before they had reached this
place, he answered:
"No,
sir; we
didn't
cause anything.
It was
the earthquake."
The man with the star stood
for a time quietly thinking
over this speech. Then he asked:
"What
is an earthquake?"
"I don't know," said
Zeb, who
was still
confused.
But
Dorothy, seeing his perplexity,
answered:
"It's
a shaking
of the
earth.
In this
quake a
big crack
opened
and we fell through--horse
and buggy, and all--and the
stones got loose and came down
with us."
The man with the star regarded
her with his calm, expressionless
eyes.
"The Rain of Stones has done
much damage to our city," he
said; "and we shall hold you
responsible for it unless you
can prove your innocence."
"How can we do that?" asked
the girl.
"That
I am not
prepared
to say.
It is your
affair,
not
mine. You must go to the House
of the Sorcerer, who will soon
discover the truth."
"Where is the House of the
Sorcerer?" the girl enquired.
"I
will lead
you to
it. Come!"
He
turned
and walked
down the
street,
and after
a moment's
hesitation Dorothy caught Eureka
in her arms and climbed into
the buggy. The boy took his
seat beside her and said: "Gid-dap
Jim."
As the horse ambled along,
drawing the buggy, the people
of the glass city made way
for them and formed a procession
in their rear. Slowly they
moved down one street and up
another, turning first this
way and then that, until they
came to an open square in the
center of which was a big glass
palace having a central dome
and four tall spires on each
corner.
|