and could not make very good progress on the retreat, so
the old sailor soon caught up with them and began jabbing at the crowd
with his stick. Unfortunately, the Pinkies had not followed their
commander, being for the moment dazed by their success, so that Cap'n
Bill was all alone among the Blueskins when he stepped his wooden leg
into a hole in the ground and tumbled full length, his sharp stick
flying from his hand and pricking the Boolooroo in the leg as it fell.

At this, the Ruler of the Blues stopped short in his flight to yell
with terror, but seeing that only the sailorman was pursuing them and
that this solitary foe had tumbled flat upon the ground, he issued a
command and several of his people fell upon poor Cap'n Bill, seized him
in their long arms, and carried him struggling into the City, where he
was fast bound.

Then a panic fell upon the Pinkies at the loss of their leader, and
Trot and Button-Bright called out in vain for them to rescue Cap'n
Bill. By the time the army recovered their wits and prepared to obey,
it was too late. And although Trot ran with them in her eagerness to
save her friend, the gate was found to be fast barred, and she knew it
was impossible for them to force an entrance into the City.

So she went sorrowfully back to the camp, followed by the Pinkies, and
asked Rosalie what could be done.

"I'm sure I do not know," replied the Witch. "I cannot use another
magic charm until three days have expired, but if they do not harm
Cap'n Bill during that time, I believe I can then find a way to save
him."

"Three days is a long time," remarked Trot dismally.

"The Boolooroo may decide to patch him at once," added Button-Bright
with equal sadness, for he, too, mourned the sailor's loss.

"It can't be helped," replied Rosalie. "I am not a fairy, my dears, but
merely a witch, and so my magic powers are limited. We can only hope
that the Boolooroo won't patch Cap'n Bill for three days."

When night settled down upon the camp of the Pinkies, where many tents
had now been pitched, all the invaders were filled with gloom. The band
tried to enliven them by playing the "Dead March," but it was not a
success. The Pinkies were despondent in spite of the fact that they had
repulsed the attack of the Blues, for as yet they had not succeeded in
gaining the City or finding the Magic Umbrella, and the blue dusk of
this dread country--which was so different from their own land of
sunsets--made them