"Home?" Tandy swung round in positive dismay. "Oh--we're not near Ozamaland yet, are we, Captain?" His voice sounded so dismal Samuel Salt threw down his magnifying glass with a roar of merriment. "Shiver my timbers, lad, one would think you did not wish to reach Ozamaland at all," he blustered teasingly. "What's the matter with that country of yours? You wouldn't keep an honest explorer from adding a creeping bird and a flying reptile to his collection, now would ye?" "No! No! Of course not," answered Tandy quickly. "But perhaps it is farther away than you think, Master Salt, and perhaps the Greys have conquered the Whites and then I won't be King any more." "What's this? What's this?" Ato lifted his nose like an old hound that has just scented a fox, for he loved a good story even better than he loved a good meal. "Who are the Greys and Whites, my lad? You never told us anything about this." "There's really not much to tell," sighed Tandy, seating himself on a small stool before the fire. "In the first place, I suppose you know that the great continent of Tarara is divided into two large long countries? Ozamaland is on the East Coast and Amaland on the West Coast." "Now I'll just make a note of that," said Samuel Salt, leaning over to pull his journal toward him. "My country," went on Tandy slowly, "is made up largely of desert and jungle, best known for its white elephants and camels and the famous White City of Om, first King and ruler of the Kingdom. The Zamas are fierce and still wild tribesmen living in tents on the desert and in huts in the jungle. Only the thousand Nobles and their families who live in the White City have been taught to read and write and live under roofs. That is why the Kings of Ozamaland are so well guarded and never allowed out of the capital." "Then I'd rather be a tribesman," sniffed Ato, letting his nets drop in a heap around his feet. "But there's no choice," said Tandy thoughtfully. "The nine Ozamandarins who make the laws have decreed that the King shall remain in the White City." "Well, what about these Whites and Greys?" asked Samuel Salt, pulling out his pipe and leaning down close to the fire so Sally could light it for him. "My people, because they dress in white robes and turbans, are known as the Whites, and the Amas, the rough plainsmen who rove the long ranges of Amaland, are the Greys. The Amas care for nothing but their swift grey horses and often charge over the border to make war on my countrymen. Then the Whites, mounted on their white elephants and camels, have all they can do to hold their own." "Aha, that's what I'd call a REAL battle!" exclaimed Ato, his eyes snapping with enthusiasm and interest. Then, noting Samuel's disapproving frown, he pursed up his lips, shook his head and added quickly, "All very wild and disorderly, Tandy, my lad. Seems as if the Whites and Greys should manage their affairs more peaceably."