For an hour the three crows and Invisi-Bill flew steadily over the Nonestic Ocean, and flying was so unusual and pleasant a sensation that they were too interested to talk. Besides, Grampa had warned them in the beginning to keep all their strength for flying, for there was no telling how long they would remain crows and it would be extremely dangerous to change back while up in the air and over the ocean. So, except for the occasional calls of Bill to let them know which way to go, they crossed the great ocean in silence. “Land!” screamed the weather cock, as the rocky shores of Ev came into view. “Well, that’s over!” cawed Grampa, alighting thankfully on a rough cliff. “Now we must cross this country and the sandy desert. Anybody tired?” Urtha and Tatters shook their heads and no one could see what Bill did, so after a few minutes’ rest they rose into the air again and flew swiftly over Ev—on and on until they reached the great desert that entirely surrounds the magic Kingdom of Oz. “Fly higher!” commanded the old soldier, for he had read so much of the deadly nature of this desert that he wanted to be as far above it as possible. So the little flock of crows and Invisi-Bill soared high into the air and they crossed the desert even faster than they had crossed the Nonestic Ocean, fear lending speed to their wings. And when at last the lovely land of the Winkies spread out below them, the old soldier gave a crow of delight. “Just keep on this way and we’ll be in the Emerald City by noon time!” exulted Grampa. “Forward for Ragbad and Oz!” “And flying is such fun,” chuckled Urtha, circling close to the old soldier. “I don’t care how long I am a crow. But, oh Mr Grampa, there’s a gun sticking through your feathers.” “What?” croaked the old soldier in alarm. “I feel heavy,” spluttered Tatters suddenly, and Grampa saw that from the waist down he was Tatters and from the waist up he still was crow. “Down! Everybody down! Down as fast as you can fly,” ordered the old soldier in a panic. He himself could feel his feathers turning to clothes and his wings seemed too light to hold up his body. Half flying and half falling, half people and half crows, the little company shot downward, and it is mighty lucky they started down when they did. As it was, they turned back to themselves and landed at one and the same minute, and the landing was so hard that, for a moment, no one spoke at all. The old soldier broke the silence. “Why, there’s Bill,” cried Grampa, who was sitting calmly in the middle of a yellow rose bush. He had grown somewhat used to falling about by this time. “How do you feel, Bill?” asked the old soldier, extracting several thorns from his person. “How do I look?” asked the weather cock anxiously. “Handsome as ever,” said Grampa, eying him closely. “Being invisible hasn’t hurt you at all, and how are the rest of my old cronies?”