“Now I wonder why he did that!” murmured Bizzybuzz, anxiously. “He must have had a reason. They’ve gone toward the Road of Clouds. That’s it!” he exclaimed; “there’s a storm coming up! That’s the reason! Hear the thunder! Fly, Moon-Eyes, fly!” And he buzzed around their owl’s head excitedly. “Fly as you never flew before, and give the signal for ‘Way for the owl-carriers!’” The owl gave a long, weird call, “Too-hoo-hoo-hoo-oo-oo!” that sounded along the Wind Channel of Echoes in a thousand different tones. Other cries answered it,—some near, some far; and the thunder growled louder and louder. “Everyone is going toward the Owls’ Inn,” cried Bizzybuzz. “Turn in there, Moon-Eyes; the storm is going to be a sharp one!” The owl swept to the left, and dropped suddenly to earth. Bizzybuzz helped the children off, and they found themselves on a rocky ledge in the side of a cliff. Just before them was a dark cave or hole in the cliff, in the depths of which were glowing many owl-eyes. “Hurry in!” ordered Bizzybuzz. And they all, including the owl, entered the cave. “This,” declared their Goblin friend, “is the hostelry which is known to every flying thing of every land, and which has been here since eight thousand years before the beginning of the world: it is the famous Owls’ Inn.” [Illustration] III _At the Owls’ Inn_ [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER III _At the Owls’ Inn_ The storm broke, sounding like a cannon-ball rolling against a thousand giant ninepins. The rain gushed out of the sky like water from a trough, the winds screamed, and the lightning flashed in forks and zigzags of green and gold and purple and diamond-white against the big banks of clouds. The children would have been frightened at any other time, but now the storm seemed only part of the excitement and queerness of everything. It went with the owls and the wind channels, and the rest of the strange things with which they had come in contact for the first time. Bizzybuzz took a tiny lantern from somewhere in his laced-up doublet, and set it on the ground. It seemed to light itself instantly, giving out greenish blue rays. “Fire from the marshes,” he explained. “Goblin-fire! Isn’t it pretty?” The children looked about them, staring at the occupants of the Owls’ Inn with great curiosity. “This is the Owl Innkeeper, known as the Tail-less One,” declared Bizzybuzz, with a wave of his hand. The Owl Innkeeper bowed politely, though very solemnly. He was a large, fine owl, but he had no tail-feathers at all. “How did he lose them?” asked Bab, in a whisper. “He’ll tell you before long,” answered Bizzybuzz. “He always does.” “What are all these owls?” asked Meg.