“All right! I’ll do it!” cried the Prince, throwing out his chest. The very thought of killing a giant made him feel about ten feet high. “Do you know the way to Ev, Kabumpo? We’ll have to hurry, because unless I marry Ozma before the seven days are up my poor old father and mother and all of Pumperdink will disappear forever.” You see, even Pompa had now got it into his head that Ozma was the Proper Princess mentioned in the scroll. “We’ll start at once,” sighed the Elegant Elephant a bit ruefully. “I’ve had no sleep and precious little to eat but when you are King of Oz you can reward old Kabumpo as he deserves.” “Everything I have will be yours,” cried the Prince, giving the elephant, or as much of him as he could grasp, a sudden hug. Then each took a long drink from one of the bubbling fountains and, munching the rolls Kabumpo had picked up in the Gilliken village, the two adventurers stole out of the gardens. As they reached the gates, Kabumpo paused and his little eyes twinkled with delight. There lay the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, snoring tremendously and beside him was a long, sharp sword with an emerald handle. “Just what we need,” chuckled Kabumpo, snatching it up in his trunk. Then out through the gates and swiftly through the still sleeping city swept the Elegant Elephant and the Prince of Pumperdink, off to rescue Princess Ozma, a prisoner in Ev! [Illustration: (unlabelled)] Chapter 13 On The Road To Ev In their journey to Ev, Peg and Wag had a night’s start of Kabumpo and Prince Pompadore, but towards morning Wag’s ears began to droop with sleep. “Gotta natch a sap, Peg,” Wag muttered thickly, as they halted on a little hill. “Natch a sap? What’s that?” asked the Wooden Doll anxiously. Wag made no answer—just flopped on his side and in a minute was asleep and snoring tremendously. “Oh!” whispered Peg, pulling herself gently from beneath the sleeping rabbit. “He meant snatch a nap.” She laughed softly and seated herself under a small tree. The birds were beginning to waken and their singing filled Peg Amy with delight. “How wonderful it all is,” she murmured, gazing up at the little ruffly pink clouds. “How wonderful it is to be alive!” “Hello! Mr. Robin!” she called gaily, as a bird flew to a low bush beside her. “Are your children quite well?” The robin swung backward and forward on his swaying branch; then burst into his best morning song. “Oh!” cried Peg Amy, clasping her wooden hands, “I’ve heard that before! But how could I?” she reasoned, “I’m only a Wooden Doll and this is the first morning I have been alive. But then, how did I know it was a robin?”