Dick, Marjorie and Fidge: A Search for the Wonderful Dodo
the Dodo's glove, while he peered up into his face through his glasses.
On catching sight of his beak, however, he gave a gasp of astonishment,
and stammered--
"I'm afraid, Sir, you've made a mistake. I--er--I--er--don't remember
your face."
"Oh, well, it is some time since we met, certainly; but perhaps you know
my friend?" said the Dodo, introducing the Eteraedarium, who came forward
with an engaging grin.
The poor Missionary gave him a hasty glance through his glasses, and
then, nervously clutching his guide book and umbrella, muttered
something about "an important engagement," and fled in the direction of
the big clock.
"Strange how nervous everybody is in my presence," murmured the Dodo,
conceitedly. "It's doubtless my beauty and brilliant wit which alarms
them; but, come on, let's go out to the lake, and I'll take you for a
row."
So, having met with the Palaeotherium, they all three got into a boat.
The Dodo was a muff at rowing, though, and kept "catching a crab," which
disaster he accounted for by declaring that the fishes would keep
holding on to his oar when he dipped it into the water; but the
Palaeotherium, who was in the bow of the boat, and consequently got all
of the splashes and knocks with the oar, declared that this was all
nonsense, and I am inclined to agree with him.
CHAPTER XX.
A DIFFICULTY WITH THE ROUNDABOUT.
While the Dodo and his friends were enjoying themselves on the lake, the
children and the others were wandering about the grounds, and
continually discovering fresh attractions. What puzzled them not a
little, however, was the fact that there seemed to be no other visitors
about, and even the attendants had disappeared in a most mysterious
manner.
At the roundabout the steam was up, but there was apparently nobody in
charge.
"What a pity," said Dick, "I should have liked very much to have gone
around on the horses, wouldn't you, Marjorie?"
"I should," chimed in Fidge.
"Yes, it would have been rather jolly," said Marjorie. "Don't you think
perhaps the Prehistoric Doctor could manage to set it going? Let's ask
him."
"Well, my dear," said the Doctor, when consulted on the subject, "I
don't know much about machinery, but I'll try, if you like."
"What's that?" inquired the Dodo, just then coming up, he having failed
to get on with the rowing to his own or anybody else's satisfaction.
"Why, we are just discussing the question of setting this roundabout
going," explained the Doctor.
"Pooh! the easiest thing in the world," said the Dodo. "You just get on,
and I'll soon start you off."
"All right," cried the Doctor, getting astride one of the horses.
"Hold on!" cried the Palaeotherium; "let us get on, too."
And he and several of the others clambered up to their places.
"I think," whispered Marjorie, nervously, "that we had better wait and
see how they get on, before trying ourselves."
"That's just like a girl," cried Dick--"afraid of everything."
"I'm not," replied Marjorie, indignantly; "I'm quite ready to go on, if
you want to--only I thought----"
"All aboard!" interrupted the Dodo, pulling the lever.
"Stop! Stop!" shouted Dick; "we want to get on."
"Too late!" cried the Dodo. "You shall go on the next journey." And with
a shriek from the steam-whistle the horses began to go around.
"There you are, you see," said the Dodo, complacently regarding the
result of his efforts. "I said it was an easy matter to set them going."
Faster and faster grew the pace, till the Doctor, who at first seemed to
be enjoying his ride immensely, suddenly threw his arms around his
horse's neck, and gasped out, breathlessly--
"Oh! Oh! Stop them! They're running away?"
"Pooh! Nonsense!" cried the Dodo; "don't be a baby."
"Stop them! Stop them! Help! Help!" screamed the other poor creatures,
as the horses whirled around faster and faster.
The Dodo went to the engine and tried to push the lever back again, but,
to his great consternation, he found that he could not do so, and the
only result of pulling another lever which he discovered was to make the
machinery work more rapidly than before.
"Gracious!" cried Marjorie, wringing her hands, "whatever _is_ to be
done?" While even Dick turned a little pale, for the poor creatures were
by this time whirling around so quickly that one could scarcely be
distinguished from the other.
Every now and then the poor Palaeotherium might be heard screaming above
the others, who were all calling out in their fright and alarm.
The Dodo left the engine, and came and stared at them.
"H'm!" he ejaculated. "_I_ don't know what's to be done. If they don't
stop soon, I suppose we shall have to shoot them. It's the only thing I
can think of."
"Shoot them!" exclaimed Dick, in a horrified voice.
"Well, what else is to be done, I should like to know? We can't leave
them here whirling around like that forever."
"I should think," suggested Dick, after vainly trying to push the lever
back into its place himself, "that if we raked all the fuel out of the
engine, it would probably stop of its own accord."
"Ah! happy thought," said the Dodo, and with all possible speed they set
to work to carry out Dick's suggestion.
They were delighted to find that after a time their project was
successful, and the machinery gradually ceased to work, and at last
stopped altogether.
The poor creatures looked more dead than alive as with pale faces they
clung limply to the upright supports attached to each of the horses.
The Doctor, weak though he was, was furious.
"Wretched, ungrateful creature!" he cried, getting painfully off his
horse and going up to the Dodo. "This is how you reward me for having
saved your life."
"I couldn't help it," whimpered the Dodo. "I couldn't, really."
"Bah! I've a great mind never to speak to you again," said the Doctor,
disgustedly.
The other creatures now came up, and began to abuse the Dodo, too.
Fortunately, just in time to prevent a general squabble, the
Eteraedarium, who had not been one of the number to patronize the
roundabout, returned with the information that there were some swings a
little way off.
Despite their unfortunate experience on the roundabout, there was a
general rush on the part of the creatures for this new attraction, and
the Dodo and the Eteraedarium had hard work to secure a swing for
themselves.
"Shall I give you a push?" asked the Doctor, kindly, though with a
curious gleam in his eye.
"Yes, please," said the Dodo, gratefully.
"All right," said the Doctor. "Hold tight!" And he gave a mighty shove,
sending the swing high above all the others.
"It's very--very nice," gasped the Dodo, "but don't push any higher,
please."
"Hold tight," said the Doctor, relentlessly, giving another shove,
harder than before.
"Oh! please--please d--don't, or we shall be upset," implored the Dodo,
nervously, as the swing shot up into the air.
"I'll teach you to twizzle me on the roundabout," cried the Doctor,
vindictively. "Will you ever do it again?"
"Oh! no, n--no, never!" promised the Dodo.
"Well, one good one for the last, then," cried the Doctor, giving a
final push, and then leaving the poor Dodo to his fate.
I don't think that it could have been a very dreadful one, however, for
a few minutes later he had joined the three children and the
Palaeotherium in a journey on the switchback.
Fidge, who had never been on one before, was delighted with the
experience, and shouted, "Hooray! This is jolly!" as the car dashed down
the steep incline.
The poor Palaeotherium, however, his nerves evidently greatly unstrung by
his unfortunate experience on the roundabout, was dreadfully upset, and
alarmed, and, hiding his eyes, he crouched at the bottom of the car till
it reached the other end, when he at once got out, and no amount of
persuasion would induce him to undertake the return journey.
He had scarcely got out into the grounds again, when he met the
Archaeopteryx, who was carrying a strange-looking object, which he held
up for the Palaeotherium's inspection.
"Your tail, I believe," he said.
The Palaeotherium gave a hasty glance at his back, and then said, in
rather a shamefaced way--
"Thank you! Yes, it is. You see, I have been obliged to wear a false one
for some time; I had no idea, however, that it had become detached." And
he carefully adjusted it again, tying it on with a couple of tapes, and
artfully concealing the ends.
"Our family," he whispered, "have no tails to speak of, and, as we look
rather remarkable without them, most of us wear artificial ones; but
please don't tell the others, they are sure to make fun of me, if you
do."
"All right," promised the Archaeopteryx, kindly; "I won't, if you don't
wish me to; but I----"
"Hist! hist!" interrupted a voice, and the Dodo, with a very scared
face, peeped from behind a tree. "Who _do_ you think is here?" he
gasped.
"Who?" inquired the others, curiously.
"The Little Panjandrum himself," declared the Dodo. "I have just caught
sight of him up by the Palace, and he looks _so_ angry about
something."
CHAPTER XXI.
THE LITTLE PANJANDRUM AT LAST.
"The Little Panjandrum!" exclaimed Marjorie, "I _shall_ be glad to see
him at last. What is he like?"
"Oh! don't bother me about him," cried the Dodo, impatiently; "he's all
right as Panjandrums go, I suppose, but I don't want to get into his
clutches again, I can tell you."
"Don't you, indeed?" remarked a voice, sarcastically. "Well, His
Importance is particularly anxious to see _you_ again, anyhow."
The Dodo gasped, and the children turning around beheld the Little
Panjandrum's Ambassador.
"Hullo! you here, too?" he continued, when he recognized them. "Well, I
must say, you have been long enough bringing this wretched bird along."
"I think you ought to be very grateful to us for having done so at all,"
said Dick, boldly. "What are you going to do with him now you have got
him?"
"H'm! that remains to be seen," said the Ambassador, pursing his lips up
tightly, and staring at the Dodo severely.
"Come along," he continued, catching hold of what would have been the
Dodo's ear if he had had one, but which was in reality a sort of woolly
fluff growing all over his head.
"Come along, and see your friend the Little Panjandrum."
"Leave go!" screamed the Dodo, "you hurt."
"Rubbish!" exclaimed the Ambassador, dragging him along, "it doesn't
hurt _me_!"
"Oh! oh! I've dropped one of my gloves," cried the Dodo, pathetically.
"If you take my advice, you'll throw the other one away, too," said the
Ambassador; "it will only make the Little Panjandrum more angry than
ever to see them."
"They make me look so respectable," whispered the Dodo.
"Respectable!" said the Ambassador, contemptuously; "nothing would make
_you_ respectable--you ridiculous object, you."
"I think you are most un--un--ki--ki--kind," sobbed the Dodo, "you are
always pi--pi--pi--pitching into m--me, and ca--ca--calling me
n--n--nasty names. It--it--it's too bad."
"Oh, stop that noise," said the Ambassador, giving the Dodo's wool a
twist; "I'm ashamed of you. Ah, here comes His Importance," he
continued, as the sound of a drum was heard in the distance.
The children all eagerness to see the Little Panjandrum, stood in a
line by the side of the pathway, while the Ambassador, keeping a firm
hold on the Dodo, remained by their side.
The sound of the drum drew nearer, and the children could distinguish
another sound mingling with it.