



Produced by Charles Aldarondo.  HTML version by Al Haines.









SKY ISLAND


  BEING THE FURTHER EXCITING ADVENTURES
  OF TROT AND CAP'N BILL AFTER THEIR
  VISIT TO THE SEA FAIRIES


BY

L. FRANK BAUM





TO

MY SISTER

MARY LOUISE BREWSTER




CONTENTS

   1.  A MYSTERIOUS ARRIVAL
   2.  THE MAGIC UMBRELLA
   3.  A WONDERFUL EXPERIENCE
   4.  THE ISLAND IN THE SKY
   5.  THE BOOLOOROO OF THE BLUES
   6.  THE SIX SNUBNOSED PRINCESSES
   7.  GHIP-GHISIZZLE PROVES FRIENDLY
   8.  THE BLUE CITY
   9.  THE TRIBULATION OF TROT
  10.  THE KING'S TREASURE CHAMBER
  11.  BUTTON-BRIGHT ENCOUNTERS THE BLUE WOLF
  12.  THROUGH THE FOG BANK
  13.  THE PINK COUNTRY
  14.  TOURMALINE THE POVERTY QUEEN
  15.  THE SUNRISE TRIBE AND THE SUNSET TRIBE
  16.  ROSALIE THE WITCH
  17.  THE ARRIVAL OF POLYCHROME
  18.  MAYRE, QUEEN OF THE PINK COUNTRY
  19.  THE WAR OF THE PINKS AND BLUES
  20.  GHIP-GHISIZZLE HAS A BAD TIME
  21.  THE CAPTURE OF CAP'N BILL
  22.  TROT'S INVISIBLE ADVENTURE
  23.  THE GIRL AND THE BOOLOOROO
  24.  THE AMAZING CONQUEST OF THE BLUES
  25.  THE RULER OF SKY ISLAND
  26.  TROT CELEBRATES THE VICTORY
  27.  THE FATE OF THE MAGIC UMBRELLA
  28.  THE ELEPHANT'S HEAD COMES TO LIFE
  29.  TROT REGULATES THE PINKIES
  30.  THE JOURNEY HOME




A LITTLE TALK TO MY READERS


WITH "The Sea Fairies," my book for 1911, I ventured into a new field
of fairy literature and to my delight the book was received with much
approval by my former readers, many of whom have written me that they
like Trot "almost as well as Dorothy." As Dorothy was an old, old
friend and Trot a new one, I think this is very high praise for Cap'n
Bill's little companion. Cap'n Bill is also a new character who seems
to have won approval, and so both Trot and the old sailor are again
introduced in the present story, which may be called the second of the
series of adventures of Trot and Cap'n Bill.

But you will recognize some other acquaintances in "Sky Island." Here,
for instance, is Button-Bright, who once had an adventure with Dorothy
in Oz, and without Button-Bright and his Magic Umbrella you will see
that the story of "Sky Island" could never have been written. As
Polychrome, the Rainbow's Daughter, lives in the sky, it is natural
that Trot and Button-Bright meet her during their adventures there.

This story of Sky Island has astonished me considerably, and I think it
will also astonish you. The sky country is certainly a remarkable fair
land, but after reading about it I am sure you will agree with me that
our old Mother Earth is a very good place to live upon and that Trot
and Button-Bright and Cap'n Bill were fortunate to get back to it again.

By the way, one of my little correspondents has suggested that I print
my address in this book, so that the children may know where letters
will reach me. I am doing this, as you see, and hope that many will
write to me and tell me how they like "Sky Island." My greatest
treasures are these letters from my readers and I am always delighted
to receive them.

L. FRANK BAUM.

"OZCOT" at HOLLYWOOD in CALIFORNIA




A MYSTERIOUS ARRIVAL

CHAPTER 1


"Hello," said the boy.

"Hello," answered Trot, looking up surprised. "Where did you come from?"

"Philadelphia," said he.

"Dear me," said Trot, "you're a long way from home, then."

"'Bout as far as I can get, in this country," the boy replied, gazing
out over the water. "Isn't this the Pacific Ocean?"

"Of course."

"Why of course?" he asked.

"Because it's the biggest lot of water in all the world."

"How do you know?"

"Cap'n Bill told me," she said.

"Who's Cap'n Bill?"

"An old sailorman who's a friend of mine. He lives at my house,
too--the white house you see over there on the bluff."

"Oh; is that your home?"

"Yes," said Trot proudly. "Isn't it pretty?"

"It's pretty small, seems to me," answered the boy.

"But it's big enough for mother and me, an' for Cap'n Bill," said Trot.

"Haven't you any father?"

"Yes, 'ndeed. Cap'n Griffith is my father, but he's gone most of the
time, sailin' on his ship. You mus' be a stranger in these parts,
little boy, not to know 'bout Cap'n Griffith," she added, looking at
her new acquaintance intently.

Trot wasn't very big herself, but the boy was not quite as big as Trot.
He was thin, with a rather pale complexion, and his blue eyes were
round and earnest. He wore a blouse waist, a short jacket, and
knickerbockers. Under his arm he held an old umbrella that was as tall
as he was. Its covering had once been of thick, brown cloth, but the
color had faded to a dull drab except in the creases, and Trot thought
it looked very old-fashioned and common. The handle, though, was really
curious. It was of wood and carved to resemble an elephant's head. The
long trunk of the elephant was curved to make a crook for the handle.
The eyes of the beast were small red stones, and it had two tiny tusks
of ivory.

The boy's dress was rich and expensive, even to his fine silk stockings
and tan shoes, but the umbrella looked old and disreputable.

"It isn't the rainy season now," remarked Tot with a smile.

The boy glanced at his umbrella and hugged it tighter. "No," he said,
"but umbrellas are good for other things'sides rain."

"'Fraid of gett'n sun-struck?" asked Trot.

He shook his head, still gazing far out over the water. "I don't
b'lieve this is bigger than any other ocean," said he. "I can't see any
more of it than I can of the Atlantic."

"You'd find out if you had to sail across it," she declared.

"When I was in Chicago I saw Lake Michigan," he went on dreamily, "and
it looked just as big as this water does."

"Looks don't count, with oceans," she asserted. "Your eyes can only see
jus' so far, whether you're lookin' at a pond or a great sea."

"Then it doesn't make any difference how big an ocean is," he replied.
"What are those buildings over there?" pointing to the right, along the
shore of the bay.

"That's the town," said Trot. "Most of the people earn their living by
fishing. The town is half a mile from here, an' my house is almost a
half-mile the other way, so it's 'bout a mile from my house to the
town."

The boy sat down beside her on the flat rock.

"Do you like girls?" asked Trot, making room for him.

"Not very well," the boy replied. "Some of 'em are pretty good fellows,
but not many. The girls with brothers are bossy, an' the girls without
brothers haven't any 'go' to 'em. But the world's full o' both kinds,
and so I try to take 'em as they come. They can't help being girls, of
course. Do you like boys?"

"When they don't put on airs or get roughhouse," replied Trot. "My
'sperience with boys is that they don't know much, but think they do."

"That's true," he answered. "I don't like boys much better than I do
girls, but some are all right, and--you seem to be one of 'em."

"Much obliged," laughed Trot. "You aren't so bad, either, an' if we
don't both turn out worse than we seem, we ought to be friends."

He nodded rather absently and tossed a pebble into the water. "Been to
town?" he asked.

"Yes. Mother wanted some yarn from the store. She's knittin' Cap'n Bill
a stocking."

"Doesn't he wear but one?"

"That's all. Cap'n Bill has one wooden leg," she explained. "That's why
he don't sailor any more. I'm glad of it, 'cause Cap'n Bill knows
ev'rything. I s'pose he knows more than anyone else in all the world."

"Whew!" said the boy. "That's taking a good deal for granted. A
one-legged sailor can't know much."

"Why not?" asked Trot a little indignantly. "Folks don't learn things
with their legs, do they?"

"No, but they can't get around without legs to find out things."

"Cap'n Bill got 'round lively 'nough once, when he had two meat legs,"
she said. "He's sailed to most ev'ry country on the earth, an' found
out all that the people in 'em knew and a lot besides. He was
shipwrecked on a desert island once, and another time a cannibal king
tried to boil him for dinner, an' one day a shark chased him seven
leagues through the water, an'--"

"What's a league?" asked the boy.

"It's a--a distance, like a mile is. But a league isn't a mile, you
know."

"What is it, then?"

"You'll have to ask Cap'n Bill. He knows ever'thing."

"Not ever'thing," objected the boy. "I know some things Cap'n Bill
don't know."

"If you do, you're pretty smart," said Trot.

"No, I'm not smart. Some folks think I'm stupid. I guess I am. But I
know a few things that were wonderful. Cap'n Bill may know more'n I
do--a good deal more--but I'm sure he can't know the same things. Say,
what's your name?"

"I'm Mayre Griffith, but ever'body calls me 'Trot.' I's a nickname I
got when I was a baby, 'cause I trotted so fast when I walked, an' it
seems to stick. What's YOUR name?"

"Button-Bright."

"How did it happen?"

"How did what happen?"

"Such a funny name."

The boy scowled a little. "Just like your own nickname happened," he
answered gloomily. "My father once said I was bright as a button, an'
it made ever'body laugh. So they always call me Button-Bright."

"What's your real name?" she inquired.

"Saladin Paracelsus de Lambertine Evagne von Smith."

"Guess I'll call you Button-Bright," said Trot, sighing. "The only
other thing would be 'Salad,' an' I don't like salads. Don't you find
it hard work to'member all of your name?"

"I don't try to," he said. "There's a lot more of it, but I've
forgotten the rest."

"Thank you," said Trot. "Oh, here comes Cap'n Bill!" as she glanced
over her shoulder.

Button-Bright turned also and looked solemnly at the old sailor who
came stumping along the path toward them. Cap'n Bill wasn't a very
handsome man. He was old, not very tall, somewhat stout and chubby,
with a round face, a bald head, and a scraggly fringe of reddish
whisker underneath his chin. But his blue eyes were frank and merry,
and his smile like a ray of sunshine. He wore a sailor shirt with a
broad collar, a short peajacket and wide-bottomed sailor trousers, one
leg of which covered his wooden limb but did not hide it. As he came
"pegging" along the path--as he himself described his hobbling
walk--his hands were pushed into his coat pockets, a pipe was in his
mouth, and his black neckscarf was fluttering behind him in the breeze
like a sable banner.

Button-Bright liked the sailor's looks. There was something very
winning--something jolly and carefree and honest and sociable--about
the ancient seaman that made him everybody's friend, so the strange boy
was glad to meet him.

"Well, well, Trot," he said, coming up, "is this the way you hurry to
town?"

"No