of the boat cool and pleasant.

"This is a glorious ride!" cried Rinkitink, as he lay back in the
shade. "I find it a decided relief to be away from that dismal island
of Pingaree.

"It may be a relief for a short time," said Bilbil, "but you are going
to the land of your enemies, who will probably stick your fat body full
of spears and arrows."

"Oh, I hope not!" exclaimed Inga, distressed at the thought.

"Never mind," said the King calmly, "a man can die but once, you know,
and when the enemy kills me I shall beg him to kill Bilbil, also, that
we may remain together in death as in life."

"They may be cannibals, in which case they will roast and eat us,"
suggested Bilbil, who wished to terrify his master.

"Who knows?" answered Rinkitink, with a shudder. "But cheer up, Bilbil;
they may not kill us after all, or even capture us; so let us not
borrow trouble. Do not look so cross, my sprightly quadruped, and I
will sing to amuse you."

"Your song would make me more cross than ever," grumbled the goat.

"Quite impossible, dear Bilbil. You couldn't be more surly if you
tried. So here is a famous song for you."

While the boy rowed steadily on and the boat rushed fast over the
water, the jolly King, who never could be sad or serious for many
minutes at a time, lay back on his embroidered cushions and sang as
follows:

"A merry maiden went to sea--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
She sat upon the Captain's knee
And looked around the sea to see
What she could see, but she couldn't see me--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!

"How do you like that, Bilbil?"

"I don't like it," complained the goat. "It reminds me of the alligator
that tried to whistle."

"Did he succeed, Bilbil?" asked the King.

"He whistled as well as you sing."

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, heek, keek, eek!" chuckled the King. "He must have
whistled most exquisitely, eh, my friend?"

"I am not your friend," returned the goat, wagging his ears in a surly
manner.

"I am yours, however," was the King's cheery reply; "and to prove it
I'll sing you another verse."

"Don't, I beg of you!"

But the King sang as follows:

"The wind blew off the maiden's shoe--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
And the shoe flew high to the sky so blue
And the maiden knew 'twas a new shoe, too;
But she couldn't pursue the shoe, 'tis true--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!

"Isn't that sweet, my pretty goat?"

"Sweet, do you ask?" retorted Bilbil. "I conside