“Some frivolous breeze has blown this rubbish here!” cried the East Wind, angrily. “But they shall not trouble me long! I will heave up the sand about them and bury them deep--and then sit thereon!” He had just commenced to blow up the sand into little swirls and eddies, when he was interrupted by a voice saying-- “Oh, no you don’t, my friend! Oh, no you don’t!” The East Wind paused, and looked round in astonishment. But he could see no one. “I am a kind of fairy god-father to those three ‘little bits of rubbish,’” continued the voice, “and anyone who harms them will have to reckon with me!” The East Wind grew slightly nervous. And the voice went on, “If you take MY advice----” “Who,” burst out the East Wind, “is going to take your advice when they can’t even _see_ you? Who are you?” he added, feeling nervous and irritated. “Mr. Atom, at your service!” laughed the gallant little person. “And, if you lay a finger on these children, I shall just----” “In that case, I’m off!” cried the East Wind, without even waiting to hear just exactly what Mr. Atom would do, for he was a great coward, and frightened of anything that he couldn’t see or understand. And away he flew, back to India, in a very bad mood. “H’m! I’m rather sorry I frightened him away like that,” remarked Mr. Atom; “he may have had the December day that Coppertop is in search of. They’d better rouse up in double-quick time, and follow the rascal back to India.” “Wake up! Wake up!! WAKE UP!!!” He cried to the sleeping children. To Tibbs and Kiddiwee he caused his voice to sound like the song of golden larks in the Far-away-beyond. And to Coppertop it sounded like the crowing of her pet bantam in the farmyard at home. “I thought that would do the trick!” laughed Mr. Atom, as he watched the effect of his magic upon the children. “I think they will be all right now, bless ’em,” and the kindly little person disappeared. At the sound of his voice each child roused up with a happy smile. “Gracious! I thought I heard----” began Coppertop. “’Es, so did I!” exclaimed Kiddiwee. “I say, this is jolly funny! Where on earth are we?” cried Tibbs. And the three bewildered children sat up on the sand and gazed around them, trying vainly to make out where they were, and how they got there. “Heavens! Why, we’ve got to the Pyramids, somehow!” exclaimed Coppertop, staggering to her feet and gazing up helplessly at the huge stone monument towering above them. “Isn’t it simply tremendous?” “Let’s climb it!” exclaimed Tibbs. “We couldn’t, why each step’s as big as I am. And besides----” “Well?” “I distinctly heard my little bantam crow!” and Coppertop set her lips firmly. “’Es, and I heard the Golden Larks--I did!” cried Kiddiwee, his little face glowing with excitement. “Well, so did I; but that’s no reason why we shouldn’t climb the Pyramid. Come on!” “No,” said Coppertop, and she meant it. “That crowing was a kind of mysterious warning!”