The old Stork did not seem to hear him; but another bird, which was busily filling nursing bottles at the fountain, replied:
"Certainly, they do."
"I should think it would get crowded," said practical Dot, "for here comes another blossom."
"Two of 'em!" added Tot, looking upwards.
Indeed, two more of the baby-blossoms were seen floating down from the clear, blue sky, and the children watched them until they settled upon the white moss and opened their leaves, setting free two more rosy, new-born babies.
The Stork at the fountain was now singing an odd little song in a soft, cooing voice, and as Dot listened she caught the following words:
Coo-oo-oo, Coo-oo-oo!
Babies are born ev'ry minute, 'tis true
Babies are best when they're chubby and new;
'Most anybody will want one or two;
Some people willingly take quite a few.
Here comes another! For babies are due
To fall when they're fresh and tender and new.
Coo-oo-oo, Coo-oo-oo!
Babies are blossoms that fall like the dew.
Just then the older Stork, which seemed to be the chief of the nurses, came toward the fountain and said to another of the birds, "It is time to take one of the babies into the world. They are coming quite fast to-day, and we must make room for the new ones."
"Very well," answered the other. They walked among the babies until they came to one quite big and strong, who was lying fast asleep. This baby the Stork picked up very tenderly and placed upon the other bird's back, twining its little arms around the long, soft neck, to which it clung tightly.
Then, spreading its great wings, the Stork flew into the air, bearing the baby gently, and sailed over the edge of the Valley into the world beyond, where it disappeared from view.
"That is the way we keep our Valley from getting crowded," said the old Stork.
"Do you suppose," asked Dot, "that I lived here once, when I was a baby?"
"Probably," answered the bird. "But, of course, I cannot remember all the babies, especially after they grow big."
"Oh, of course not," exclaimed the girl.
"Course not," said Tot; "too many of 'em."
"Now, if you will excuse me, I'll feed the two babies who have just arrived," said the motherly old Stork; and so the children watched it and the other Storks for some time, and admired the gentle way in which they tended the babies, and heard again and again the crooning song:
Hushaby, lullaby,
Sweet flower from the sky,
which always seemed to have the effect of sending the babies to sleep.
Having taken one more drink at the fountain and said goodbye to the kind Storks, Dot and Tot returned to their boat.
As they pushed it out into the stream, Dot asked a Stork that stood watching them:
"What is in the next Valley?"
"Oh, the Queen of all Merryland lives there," answered the bird, "for that is the Fourth Valley, and lies in the center of the Seven."
Then, with a feeling of awe at their approach to the Queen who ruled this wonderful land, the children turned their eyes anxiously toward the fourth archway. But as the boat drifted through its entrance, Tot looked back into the Valley they were leaving and noticed another baby-blossom floating down from the sky, while the voice of a Stork sang softly:
"Coo-oo-oo, Coo-oo-oo!
Babies are born every minute, 'tis true."
CHAPTER X. – The Queen of Merryland
When the boat carried Dot and Tot beyond the rocky arch that led to the Fourth and most important Valley of Merry-land, the children held their breaths in suspense; for here lived the Queen of all this wonderful country, and they had no idea what she was like.
"Perhaps she will be angry with us for disobeying the Watch-Dog's orders," Dot whispered; "and then she may punish us in some terrible manner."
"No, she won't," replied Tot, confidently.
"Perhaps she will make us slaves and compel us to work for her," continued Dot, with a little shudder.
"No, she won't," protested Tot, stoutly.
"Why won't she, Tot?" asked the girl.
"'Cause it's Merryland," returned the boy.
"Ah! That's true," said Dot, thoughtfully; "the Queen of this lovely and happy country couldn't be very cross with us."
"Course not," agreed Tot.
"Then we won't be afraid," she added, her courage restored by Tot's simple faith; "but will wait and see what happens to us."
The boat now swept around a bend in the river, and they saw they were in a Valley somewhat larger than any they had yet visited; but their view was shut off by a high wall that ran along the river bank on one side, and by the rocky edge of the Valley on the other side.
The wall was higher than their heads when they stood up in the boat, and upon its top Dot noticed several little wooden soldiers, with guns on their shoulders, walking stiffly back and forth, as if they were keeping guard. Each of these soldiers was seemingly made out of one piece of wood, and wore a high black hat and a red coat with black buttons, while his trousers were painted white. The guns did not look very dangerous, and Dot remembered that once she had owned a box of just such looking soldiers as these.
But the soldiers on the wall were moving around, and Dot's soldiers had never moved at all – at least, while she was looking at them. What they might have done when she was not looking she, of course, could not tell.
The wooden soldiers paid no attention to the boat, which glided slowly down the stream, while the children looked for a place to land.
"Perhaps we'll float right through the Valley," whispered Dot, "and then the Queen will never know we've been in her country at all."
In a few moments, however, they saw a gate in the wall, made of wood and nearly covered with gold and silver plates that shone brightly in the sun. In front of this gate was a little landing place and some steps leading down to the river. They floated up to the steps and stopped, so Dot and Tot got out and tied the boat to a silver ring in the wall. Then they walked to the gate, where Dot was just putting out her hand to open it, when she heard a voice cry:
"Halt!"
She looked up and saw that on each side of the gate was standing one of the wooden soldiers. Their guns were pointed straight at Dot and Tot, and although the soldiers were not much taller than Tot's knee, the children were startled at their warlike attitude and stood still in surprise.
"Can't we open the gate?" asked the girl, after a moment.
"No!" answered one of the soldiers, in a voice he tried to make gruff, but which sounded rather squeaky, as if it needed oiling.