Chapter II: Make-Believing

The children rubbed their eyes. What was a bizzybuzz? And Make Believe Land! Mother Goose! Were they dreaming? No, they knew they could not be dreaming, for they would never dream such nonsense as this!

Meanwhile the sprite stood on the hearth-rug, his slender wings still whirring faintly, and his goggle eyes quite anxious.

“Oh, dear!” he exclaimed at last. “You really are slow about starting, you know! Or”—hopefully—“have you been getting ready,—packing up and all that?”

This was too much for Meg’s practical soul. Besides, she was glad to have a chance to vent her ruffled and bewildered feelings.

“What nonsense!” she said sharply. “You know we haven’t moved! How could we have been packing up?”

“Why,” exclaimed Bizzybuzz, looking greatly surprised, “do you really have to _do_ things here? In Make Believe Land we have only to _imagine_ we are doing them.”

“Rot!” blurted Dick, like an explosion.

“‘Rot’!” repeated Bizzybuzz, innocently. “What is that?” And Dick felt rather ashamed of himself.

“But how do you make believe things?” asked Bab, the curious.

Bizzybuzz looked at her in as pitying a way as he could manage, considering the queerness of his eyes. “Don’t you know how to make believe?” he asked earnestly. “And you a little girl!”

He almost cried about it.

The children looked at each other. For the first time they were just a wee bit discontented with their sensible views. How did it feel, they wondered, to make believe?

“Now,” said Bizzybuzz, “just suppose that you want to pack up something to carry away with you on your journey. What would you each like to have most?”

“My new jack-knife,” answered Dick.

“My pink silk dress,” declared Meg.

“Wiggles,” said Bab.

“What is Wiggles?” asked Bizzybuzz.

“My fox-terrier,” she explained enthusiastically. “I wish he were here now for you to see. He’s the dearest—”

“Oh, it wouldn’t do at all!” cried Bizzybuzz, hastily. “For if you had him here, how would you make believe that you had him?”

This seemed unanswerable.

“Now,” went on Bizzybuzz, in a business-like way, “you must each pretend that you are carrying what you most want. You”—to Meg—“have a pink dress hanging on your arm. Oh, what a pretty pink dress! It has ribbons and lace and ruffles! It must be very becoming.”

Instinctively Meg crooked her arm and looked at it.

“Such a lovely dress!” proceeded Bizzybuzz.

“I don’t see it,” said Meg, at last.

“Oh, dear!” sighed Bizzybuzz. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Meg, “I’m quite sure. I don’t see it at all. Do you?”

“Of course I do!” said Bizzybuzz. “Never mind, you’ll see it yourself in time.” Then he turned to Dick. “Do you mind letting me see your jack-knife?” he said. “Thanks!” He pretended to take something in his hand. “What a fine one! May I open it? One—two—three blades! It certainly is a fine jack-knife. Here, take it back again.” He seemed to hand the imaginary knife back to Dick. “Do you see it?” he demanded anxiously.

“N-no,” said Dick, doubtfully. “I don’t think I do. But I’m not quite sure. I feel as though I might see it if you kept on making believe long enough.”

“That’s much better!” exclaimed Bizzybuzz, looking pleased. “And now for you,” he went on, turning to Bab. “You have Wiggles in your arms; suppose you put him down. Oh, he doesn’t want to get down, does he? He loves you very much! See if he’ll come to me. Here, doggie,—doggie,—doggie!”

Bab stared hard at the spot where her beloved Wiggles was supposed to be. For a moment she did really seem to see his fat white and brown body wriggling ecstatically and trying to wag its stump of a tail.

“Oh!” she cried, “I almost saw him then—almost—yes, yes, _yes!_ I _quite_ see him! Oh, Wiggles, dear!” And down she went on her knees.

“Don’t be so silly!” said Meg, crossly; and Wiggles disappeared.

“_You_’ll learn very quickly,” said Bizzybuzz, approvingly, “you, little girl with the dog. But you’ll all learn in time. And now we must be off.”

“Off!”

“Yes; Mother Goose will be growing impatient. Come, hurry up! And don’t forget that you are bringing with you the jack-knife, and the pink dress, and Wiggles!”

“Bringing things we can’t see!” said Meg, scornfully.

“Ah! But you _will_ see them,” said Bizzybuzz. “I can see them now, though they’re not _my_ make-believes! And the moment that you have learned to believe in all the make-believe things in Make Believe Land, and love them as you should, you’ll find that you have with you the knife and the dress and the dog! Now come!”

He spread his wings and flew to the window. Perching on the sill, he beckoned to them.

“But what does your old Mother Goose want with us?” asked Bab, hesitating.

“She’ll tell you herself,” said Bizzybuzz, and bowed low. “Bless her Majesty’s heart!”

“Her Majesty!” repeated Meg.

“She is one of the many rulers of Make Believe Land,” said Bizzybuzz, bowing again. “Come, come, come! You really must not delay any longer.”

He pointed through the open window into the dark outside.

“But you don’t expect _us_ to fly!” said Dick.

“I have something waiting for you to fly _on_!” said Bizzybuzz, mysteriously.

“That isn’t right,” said Meg. “You should say ‘on which to fly.’ My teacher told me so.”

Bizzybuzz looked at her disapprovingly. “You really are a disagreeable child, aren’t you?” he remarked. “Never mind. There is your steed _on which to fly_!”

He pointed again. The three children could not help hurrying to the window to see what it was.

On the ledge outside was sitting a huge owl. His feathers ruffled out and then subsided in the night wind, and his great eyes were like moons. He looked tremendously wise.

“O-o-oh!” cried Bab, drawing back, “I’m afraid of owls!”

“Nonsense! Don’t be so silly!” said Bizzybuzz,—for it was his turn to be scornful. “Come, climb on! Or no—I suppose you _think_ you are too big! Well, shut your eyes!”

They obeyed, and suddenly felt themselves lifted quickly through the air and deposited upon a nest of soft, warm feathers.

“All right; open your eyes,” said the voice of Bizzybuzz. “We’re off!”

Everything was quite dark when they opened their eyes, but looking up they could see the stars and a driving shoal of faintly shining clouds. Beneath them was a motion as soft and steady as the rocking of a great cradle; they were riding on the owl!

Above them flew Bizzybuzz, and they noticed that he was quite transparent against the least bit of light, and that they could see the stars through him very clearly.

“Go to sleep if you like,” he told them, “for the journey is a long one.” Then he added something the children did not understand at the time: “I came to your country in less than a second, but it will take a longer time to carry _you_ to Make Believe Land!”

The children were far too excited to sleep. They leaned over the owl’s back to catch glimpses of the world underneath, and more than once they nearly fell. It was a thrilling ride! Sometimes they flew low down, through forests dense and fragrant and black; then up, up, into the clouds and starlight; then straight on, over shining water, and cities full of twinkling yellow lights,—on—on—on!

Often they passed other birds, even a bat or two, and strange, shimmering insects of monstrous size, and big, soft, stupid, graceful moths with wings of gray or green. The air seemed full of sounds,—the whirr of wings, the call of one flying thing to another, the rustling stir of the tree-tops, the low murmur of the wind, the laughing noise of running water underneath. Never had their ears been so busy.

“Greeting, brother!” called Bizzybuzz to a big white owl that was flapping along beside them. But the owl said never a word.

“He will not speak,” explained Bizzybuzz, flitting down to whisper, “because he is known as the wisest of all owls, and he is afraid that if he talks people will find out that he isn’t!”

“Has the white owl anyone on his back?” asked Bab.

“Look!” said Bizzybuzz, shooting up in the air once more. “He is still travelling beside us. He, like ourselves, is flying in the Wind Channel of Echoes. It is the best at this hour of the night.”

They stood up to look. The white owl wore a collar of glittering silver, and on his back was sitting a wee old woman dressed all in white.

“She is the Witch of Silence,” said Bizzybuzz. “She is very, very wise. She lives in a hollow tree, and the white owl sits outside and meditates. She is on her way now to the North Star, where there is a very learned oracle who can teach her some new spells.”

“How will she get to the North Star?” asked Dick.

“She will ride along the Wind Channel of Echoes until she reaches the North Star’s Ladder of Light, and then climb up, step by step. It will take her a hundred years.”

“What in the world do you mean by Wind Channels and Ladders of Light?” demanded Meg, crossly.

“You have roads on the ground in your country,” said Bizzybuzz. “_We_ have roads in the air. Isn’t that quite simple? We have the Wind Channel of Echoes and the Tree-Top Pathway and the Road of Clouds for times of storm; and the Moon-Wake when we want to cross the water and are too tired to fly. Sometimes we lose our way and have a dreadful time getting to shelter before daylight! As for the Ladder of Light, every star has a ladder leading straight up to it if only you can find it. The North Star is the hardest of all to reach, for it is so very far and cold, and the people there will receive only witches or air-spirits. They are very exclusive! The Witch of Silence will be welcome. She and the oracle will sit opposite each other for two hundred and seventy years, and then she will be truly wise, so she will climb down the Ladder of Light and go into her hollow tree again.”

The white owl with the witch suddenly swerved off toward the right, and flapped away into the mists.

“Now I wonder why he did that!” murmured Bizzybuzz, anxiously. “He must have had a reason. They’ve gone toward the Road of Clouds. That’s it!” he exclaimed; “there’s a storm coming up! That’s the reason! Hear the thunder! Fly, Moon-Eyes, fly!” And he buzzed around their owl’s head excitedly. “Fly as you never flew before, and give the signal for ‘Way for the owl-carriers!’”

The owl gave a long, weird call, “Too-hoo-hoo-hoo-oo-oo!” that sounded along the Wind Channel of Echoes in a thousand different tones. Other cries answered it,—some near, some far; and the thunder growled louder and louder.

“Everyone is going toward the Owls’ Inn,” cried Bizzybuzz. “Turn in there, Moon-Eyes; the storm is going to be a sharp one!”

The owl swept to the left, and dropped suddenly to earth. Bizzybuzz helped the children off, and they found themselves on a rocky ledge in the side of a cliff. Just before them was a dark cave or hole in the cliff, in the depths of which were glowing many owl-eyes.

“Hurry in!” ordered Bizzybuzz. And they all, including the owl, entered the cave.

“This,” declared their Goblin friend, “is the hostelry which is known to every flying thing of every land, and which has been here since eight thousand years before the beginning of the world: it is the famous Owls’ Inn.”

III

_At the Owls’ Inn_