THE PINK COUNTRY
CHAPTER 13
When the travelers could collect their senses and sit up, they
stared about them in bewilderment, for the transition from the
sticky, damp fog to this brilliant scene was so abrupt as to daze
them at first.
It was a Pink Country indeed. The grass was a soft pink, the trees
were pink, all the fences and buildings which they saw in the near
distance were pink--even the gravel in the pretty paths was pink.
Many shades of color were there, of course, grading from a faint
blush rose to deep pink verging on red, but no other color was
visible. In the sky hung a pink glow, with rosy clouds floating here
and there, and the sun was not silvery white, as we see it from the
Earth, but a distinct pink.
The sun was high in the sky just now, which proved the adventurers
had been a long time in passing through the Fog Bank. But all of
them were wonderfully relieved to reach this beautiful country in
safety, for aside from the danger that threatened them in the Blue
Country, the other side of the island was very depressing. Here the
scene that confronted them was pretty and homelike, except for the
prevailing color and the fact that all the buildings were round,
without a single corner or angle.
Half a mile distant was a large City, its pink tintings glistening
bravely in the pink sunshine, while hundreds of pink banners floated
from its numerous domes. The country between the Fog Bank and the
city was like a vast garden, very carefully kept and as neat as wax.
The parrot was fluttering its wings and pruning its feathers to
remove the wet of the fog. Trot and Button-Bright and Cap'n Bill
were all soaked to the skin and chilled through, but as they sat
upon the pink grass they felt the rays of the sun sending them
warmth and rapidly drying their clothes; so, being tired out, they
laid themselves comfortably down and first one and then another fell
cozily asleep.
It was the parrot that aroused them.
"Look out--look out--
There's folks about!"
it screamed.
"The apple-dumplings, fat and pink, Will be here quicker than a
wink!"
Trot stared up in alarm and rubbed her eyes; Cap'n Bill rolled over
and blinked, hardly remembering where he was; Button-Bright was on
his feet in an instant. Advancing toward them were four of the
natives of the Pink Country.
Two were men and two were women, and their appearance was in sharp
contrast to that of the Blueskins. For the Pinkies were round and
chubby--almost like "apple-dumplings," as the parrot called
them--and they were not very tall, the highest of the men being no
taller than Trot or Button-Bright. They all had short necks and
legs, pink hair and eyes, rosy cheeks and pink complexions, and
their faces were good-natured and jolly in expression.
The men wore picturesque pink clothing and round hats with pink
feathers in them, but the apparel of the women was still more
gorgeous and striking. Their dresses consisted of layer after layer
of gauzy tuck and ruffles and laces, caught here and there with bows
of dainty ribbon. The skirts--which of course were of many shades of
pink--were so fluffy and light that they stuck out from the fat
bodies of the Pinkie women like the skirts of ballet-dancers,
displaying their chubby pink ankles and pink kid shoes. They wore
rings and necklaces and bracelets and brooches of rose-gold set with
pink gems, and all four of the new arrivals, both men and women,
carried sharp-pointed sticks made of rosewood for weapons.
They halted a little way from our adventurers, and one of the women
muttered in a horrified voice, "Blueskins!"
"Guess again! The more you guess
I rather think you'll know the less,"
retorted the parrot, and then he added grumblingly in Trot's ear,
"Blue feathers don't make bluebirds."
"Really," said the girl, standing up and bowing respectfully to the
Pinkies, "we are not Blueskins, although we are wearing the blue
uniforms of the Boolooroo and have just escaped from the Blue
Country. If you will look closely, you will see that our skins are
white."
"There is some truth in what she says," remarked one of the men
thoughtfully. "Their skins are not blue, but neither are they white.
To be exact, I should call the skin of the girl and that of the boy
a muddy pink, rather faded, while the skin of the gigantic monster
with them is an unpleasant brown."
Cap'n Bill looked cross for a minute, for he did not like to be
called a "gigantic monster," although he realized he was much larger
than the pink people.
"What country did you come from" asked the woman who had first
spoken.
"From the Earth," replied Button-Bright.
"The Earth! The Earth!" they repeated. "That is a country we have
never heard of. Where is it located?"
"Why, down below somewhere," said the boy, who did now know in which
direction the Earth lay. "It isn't just one country, but a good many
countries."
"We have three countries in Sky Island," returned the woman. "They
are the Blue Country, the Fog Country and the Pink Country. But of
course this end of the Island is the most important."
"How came you in the Blue Country, from whence you say you escaped?"
asked the man.
"We flew there by means of a Magic Umbrella," explained
Button-Bright, "but the wicked Boolooroo stole it from us."
"Stole it! How dreadful," they all cried in a chorus.
"And they made us slaves," said Trot.
"An' wanted fer to patch us," added Cap'n Bill indignantly.
"So we ran away and passed through the Fog Bank and came here," said
Button-Bright.
The Pinkies turned away and conversed together in low tones. Then
one of the women came forward and addressed the strangers. "Your
story is the strangest we have ever heard," said she, "and your
presence here is still more strange and astonishing. So we have
decided to take you to Tourmaline and let her decide what shall be
your fate."
"Who is Tourmaline?" inquired Trot doubtfully, for she didn't like
the idea of being "taken" to anyone.
"The Queen of the Pinkies. She is the sole Ruler of our country, so
the word of Tourmaline is the Law of the Land."
"Seems to me we've had 'bout enough of kings an' queens," remarked
Cap'n Bill. "Can't we shy your Tut-Tor-mar-line--or whatever you
call her--in some way an' deal with you direct?"
"No. Until we prove your truth and honor we must regard you as
enemies of our race. If you had a Magic Umbrella, you may be
magicians and sorcerers come here to deceive us and perhaps betray
us to our natural enemies, the Blueskins."
"Mud and bricks, fiddlesticks!
We don't play such nasty tricks,"
yelled the parrot angrily, and this caused the Pinkies to shrink
back in alarm, for they had never seen a parrot before.
"Surely this is magic!" declared one of the men. "No bird can talk
unless inspired by witchcraft."
"Oh yes, parrots can," said Trot. But this incident had determined
the Pinkies to consider our friends prisoners and to take them
immediately before their Queen.
"Must we fight you?" asked the woman. "Or will you come with us
peaceably?"
"We'll go peaceable," answered Cap'n Bill. "You're a-makin' a sad
mistake, for we're as harmless as doves; but seein' as you're
suspicious, we'd better have it out with your Queen first as last."
Their clothing was quite dry by this time, although much wrinkled
and discolored by the penetrating fog, so at once they prepared to
follow the Pinkies. The two men walked on either side of them,
holding the pointed sticks ready to jab them if they attempted to
escape, and the two women followed in the rear, also armed with
sharp sticks.
So the procession moved along the pretty roadways to the City, which
they soon reached. There was a strong, high wall of pink marble
around it, and they passed through a gate made of pink metal bars
and found themselves in a most delightful and picturesque town. The
houses were big and substantial, all round in shape, with domed
roofs and circular windows and doorways. In all the place there was
but one street--a circular one that started at the gate and wound
like a corkscrew toward the center of the City. It was paved with
pink marble, and between the street and the houses that lined both
sides of it were gardens filled with pink flowers and pink grass
lawns, which were shaded by pink trees and shrubbery.
As the Queen lived in the very center of the city, the captives were
obliged to parade the entire length of this street, and that gave
all the Pink Citizens a chance to have a good look at the strangers.
The Pinkies were every one short and fat and gorgeously dressed in
pink attire, and their faces indicated that they were contented and
happy. They were much surprised at Cap'n Bill's great size and
wooden leg--two very unusual things in their experience--and the old
sailor frightened more than one Pink boy and girl and sent them
scampering into the houses, where they viewed the passing procession
from behind the window shutters in comparative safety. As for the
grown people, many of them got out their sharp-pointed sticks to use
as weapons in case the strangers attacked them or broke away from
their guards. A few, more bold than the others, followed on at the
tail of the procession, and so presently they all reached an open,
circular place in the exact center of the Pink City.
