Now, in the forests of the Island of Gee-Whiz are very many sorts of trees--palm trees, tall and stately, with parasols at their tops; juju trees, with rough, sticky sides and long, slender leaves; and strawberry trees, not in the least resembling our little creeping vines. There are also orange trees, with ripe yellow oranges, and trees with fruit resembling chocolate éclaires, all ready for eating, and other trees which bear fruit much like a charlotte russe. Besides these, there are many trees such as we all know--hickory, oak, and apple trees, and maple trees, from which maple sugar comes. It was, of course, from the sugar-maple tree that Zuzu had drawn the syrup for the Waffles; and that, of course, was the kind of tree into which the King should have cut with his little gold ax. But, being guided by this Wicked Fairy whom he could not see, the King was not aware of this. The truth is that, as he swung his ax and cut into the tree before him, it was not a maple tree at all, but a rubber tree. As he struck the trunk, to his great surprise, there gushed out not a pale, sticky syrup, but a fresh-looking liquid, which resembled milk. "Bless my soul and body!" said the King. "That does not look right." "Oh, yes, it does," whispered the Wicked Fairy in his ear. "Eh? What?" said the King, still not knowing it was a Fairy. "Yes, I suppose this must be right. In any case, I will taste it and see." So he held out his cup and caught it full of the rubber juice and drank a deep draft of it. To his great surprise, he began to feel very strange. "Bless my soul and body!" exclaimed the King to himself. "This is most extraordinary. I must say that I feel strange, quite strange, I do indeed. Why, this is not in the least like the syrup I tasted yesterday morning. I wonder if I could have made a mistake." "It is no mistake," whispered the Fairy, "that is the right tree." "Eh? What?" said the King. "Oh, yes, so it is, so it is. At first, it seemed to me that the syrup was not the same." "Take some more," whispered the Wicked Fairy; and the King, still not knowing there was a Wicked Fairy there, did so, this time taking a deep draft. "Bless my soul and body!" cried he this time. "I begin to feel very strange, very strange indeed. I feel really light-headed." He looked down at his shadow, but the shadow still was there, keeping time with every motion, so that he felt much comforted. "My shadow is just the same," said the King, "so everything must be all right. But, dear me, what is the matter with my leg?" The King had, in stepping back from the tree, caught his foot between two roots, and now, instead of releasing his foot when he pulled at it, he saw, to his great surprise, that he was stretching his leg out to twice its natural length.