They passed the rest of the guards without further conversation, and after about two hours came to the end of the long tiled passageway and stepped upon firm ground again. Kabumpo was terribly out of breath, for the whole way had been up hill. For a full minute he stood sniffing the fresh night air. Then, turning around, he looked for the opening through which they had come. Not a sign of the passage anywhere! “That’s curious,” puffed the Elegant Elephant. “But never mind. We don’t want to go back anyway.” “I should say not,” gasped the Prince wearily. “Where are we now, Kabumpo?” “Still in the Gilliken country, I think, but headed in the right direction. All we have to do is to keep going South,” said the Elegant Elephant cheerfully. “But we’ve had nothing to eat since morning,” objected Pompadore. “That’s so,” agreed Kabumpo, scratching his head thoughtfully, “and not a house in sight!” “But I smell something cooking,” insisted the Prince, sniffing hungrily. “So do I,” said the Elegant Elephant, lifting his trunk, “and it smells like soup. Let’s follow our noses, Pompa, my boy.” “Yours is the longest,” laughed the Prince, as Kabumpo swung him upon the elephant’s back. So, guided by the fragrant whiffs that came floating toward them, Kabumpo set out through the trees. [Illustration: (unlabelled)] [Illustration: (unlabelled)] Chapter 12 The Delicious Sea of Soup “Strange that we don’t see any houses,” puffed Kabumpo, swinging along rapidly. “I hear water,” answered Pompa, peering out over Kabumpo’s head, “and there it is!” Rippling silver under the rays of the moon, which shone brightly, lay a great inland sea. The trees had thinned out, and a smooth, sandy beach stretched down to the shore. A slight mist hung in the air and all around was the delicious fragrance of vegetable soup. “Somebody’s making soup,” sighed the Prince, “but who, and where?” “Never mind, Pompa,” wheezed the Elegant Elephant, walking down to the water’s edge, “perhaps you can catch some fish, and while you cook them I’ll go back and eat some leaves.” With a jerk of his trunk, Kabumpo pulled a length of the heavy silver thread from his torn robe and handed it up to Pompa. Fastening a jeweled pin to one end, the Prince cast his line far out into the waves. At the first tug he drew it in. “What is it?” asked the Elegant Elephant, as Pompa pulled the dripping line over his trunk. “Oh, how delicious! How wonderful!” exclaimed the once fastidious Prince of Pumperdink. Kabumpo could hear him munching away with relish. “What is it?” he asked again. “A carrot! A lovely, red, delightful, tender carrot!” “Carrot! Who ever heard of a sea carrot?” grunted Kabumpo. “I’m afraid you’re not yourself, my boy. Let me see it.”