To begin with, they had feathers instead of hair. These feathers were small and fine and grew smoothly back from their foreheads, becoming longer at the back and curling softly behind the ears. Their eyes were perfectly round and their noses almost like bird beaks. Otherwise they were the same as regular folks, except in their manner of walking, for their feet turned in so much that they had to hop, putting one foot down and then hopping over it. Before Notta could start a joke, the leader of these singular creatures motioned to two behind him. They immediately stepped forward, unfurling as they did so a large banner. [Illustration: THE FEATHERHEADS OF UN] "Unwelcome to Un," said the banner in crooked yellow letters. "No use being polite then," rumbled the Cowardly Lion and, taking matters into his own paws, he gave such a thundering roar that the very ground trembled. "Ginger poppa!" gasped the clown, almost as frightened as the Featherheads. The effect on the crowd was simply breath-taking. Beginning at the back of their necks, their feathers slowly rose straight on end until each head looked like a huge and quivering feather duster. The Cowardly Lion tried to roar again, but the best that he could manage was a chuckle. Notta took one look, then fell up against a tree and laughed until the tears rolled down his cheeks. Even Bob giggled. "Try 'em again," wheezed the Cowardly Lion. "I think they'll listen to you now. Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Notta stepped forward and addressed the leader. "Could you tell us a little about this interesting country of yours, and the quickest way out of it?" he inquired politely. Slowly the feathers on the heads of the crowd began to settle. "'Taint a country, it's a skyle," answered the Featherhead, blinking rapidly. "A skyle?" repeated the clown, glancing doubtfully at the Cowardly Lion, who appeared to be as puzzled as he was. "What is a skyle?" asked Notta curiously. "This is," snapped the leader disagreeably. "You're as ignorant as a fish, aren't you?" Then as the Cowardly Lion gave a threatening growl he continued grudgingly, "A skyle is an isle in the sky, and anyone who has studied skyography ought to know that. I suppose you don't even know what an isle is?" He looked contemptuously at the three strangers. "I do. An isle is a small body of land entirely surrounded by water," cried Bob, delighted to find that geography was of some use after all. "Well," said the Featherhead uneasily, "then I guess you'll understand when I tell you that a skyle is a small body of land entirely surrounded by air." "Air!" spluttered Notta. "I say, how does one get off a skyle?" "You'll soon find that out!" muttered the Featherhead, and all the others began nodding and clucking for all the world like a company of hens. "What do you call yourselves?" asked the Cowardly Lion. Now that he knew how to frighten them, he no longer felt afraid.