returned Dorothy; “for the fox-people warned us there was one on this road. It’s filled with stupid beasts of some sort, but we musn’t be afraid of ‘em ‘cause they won’t hurt us.”
“All right,” said Button-Bright; but Polychrome didn’t know whether it was all right or not.
“It’s a big city,” she said, “and the road runs straight through it.”
“Never mind,” said the shaggy man; “as long as I carry the Love Magnet every living thing will love me, and you may be sure I shan’t allow any of my friends to be harmed in any way.”
This comforted them somewhat, and they moved on again. Pretty soon they came to a signpost that read:
“HAF A MYLE TO DUNKITON.”
“Oh,” said the shaggy man, “if they’re donkeys, we’ve nothing to fear at all.”
“They may kick,” said Dorothy, doubtfully.
“Then we will cut some switches, and make them behave,” he replied. At the first tree he cut himself a long, slender switch from one of the branches, and shorter switches for the others.
“Don’t be afraid to order the beasts around,” he said; “they’re used to it.”
Before long the road brought them to the gates of the city. There was a high wall all around, which had been whitewashed, and the gate just before our travelers was a mere opening in the wall, with no bars across it. No towers or steeples or domes showed above the enclosure, nor was any living thing to be seen as our friends drew near.
Suddenly, as they were about to boldly enter through the opening, there arose a harsh clamor of sound that swelled and echoed on every side, until they were nearly deafened by the racket and had to put their fingers to their ears to keep the noise out.
It was like the firing of many cannon, only there were no cannonballs or other missiles to be seen; it was like the rolling of mighty thunder, only not a cloud was in the sky; it was like the roar of countless breakers on a rugged seashore, only there was no sea or other water anywhere about.
They hesitated to advance; but, as the noise did no harm, they entered through the whitewashed wall and quickly discovered the cause of the turmoil. Inside were suspended many sheets of tin or thin iron, and against these metal sheets a row of donkeys were pounding their heels with vicious kicks.
The shaggy man ran up to the nearest donkey and gave the beast a sharp blow with his switch.
“Stop that noise!” he shouted; and the donkey stopped kicking the metal sheet and turned its head to look with surprise at the shaggy man. He switched the next donkey, and made him stop, and then the next, so that gradually the rattling of heels ceased and the awful noise subsided. The donkeys stood in a group and eyed the strangers with fear and trembling.
“What do you mean by making such a racket?” asked the shaggy man, sternly.
“We were scaring away the foxes,” said one of the donkeys, meekly. “Usually they run fast enough when they hear the noise, which makes them afraid.”
“There are no foxes here,” said the shaggy man.
“I beg to differ with you. There’s one, anyhow,” replied the donkey, sitting upright on its haunches and waving a hoof toward Button-Bright. “We saw him coming and thought the whole army of foxes was marching to attack us.”
“Button-Bright isn’t a fox,” explained the shaggy man. “He’s only wearing a fox head for a time, until he can get his own head back.”
“Oh, I see,” remarked the donkey, waving its left ear reflectively. “I’m sorry we made such a mistake, and had all our work and worry for nothing.”
The other donkeys by this time were sitting up and examining the strangers with big, glassy eyes. They made a queer picture, indeed; for they wore wide, white collars around their necks and the collars had many scallops and points. The gentlemen-donkeys wore high pointed caps set between their great ears, and the lady-donkeys wore sunbonnets with holes cut in the top for the ears to stick through. But they had no other clothing except their hairy skins, although many wore gold and silver bangles on their front wrists and bands of different metals on their rear ankles. When they were kicking they had braced themselves with their front legs, but now they all stood or sat upright on their hind legs and used the front ones as arms. Having no fingers or hands the beasts were rather clumsy, as you may guess; but Dorothy was surprised to observe how many things they could do with their stiff, heavy hoofs.
Some of the donkeys were white, some were brown, or gray, or black, or spotted; but their hair was sleek and smooth and their broad collars and caps gave them a neat, if whimsical, appearance.
“This is a nice way to welcome visitors, I must say!” remarked the shaggy man, in a reproachful tone.
“Oh, we did not mean to be impolite,” replied a grey donkey which had not spoken before. “But you were not expected, nor did you send in your visiting cards, as it is proper to do.”
“There is some truth in that,” admitted the shaggy man; “but, now you are informed that we are important and distinguished travelers, I trust you will accord us proper consideration.”
These big words delighted the donkeys, and made them bow to the shaggy man with great respect. Said the grey one:
“You shall be taken before his great and glorious Majesty King Kik-a-bray, who will greet you as becomes your exalted stations.”
“That’s right,” answered Dorothy. “Take us to some one who knows something.”
“Oh, we all know something, my child, or we shouldn’t be donkeys,” asserted the grey one, with dignity. “The word ‘donkey’ means ‘clever,’ you know.”
“I didn’t know it,” she replied. “I thought it meant ‘stupid’.”
“Not at all, my child. If you will look in the Encyclopedia Donkaniara you will find I’m correct. But come; I will myself lead you before our splendid, exalted, and most intellectual ruler.”
All donkeys love big words, so it is no wonder the grey one used so many of them.
7. The Shaggy Man’s Transformation
They found the houses of the town all low and square and built of bricks, neatly whitewashed inside and out. The houses were not set in rows, forming regular streets, but placed here and there in a haphazard manner which made it puzzling for a stranger to find his way.
“Stupid people must have streets and numbered houses in their cities, to guide them where to go,” observed the grey donkey, as he walked before the visitors on his hind legs, in an awkward but comical manner; “but clever donkeys know their way about without such absurd marks. Moreover, a mixed city is much prettier than one with straight streets.”
Dorothy did not agree with this, but she said nothing to contradict it. Presently she saw a sign on a house that read: “Madam de Fayke, Hoofist,” and she asked their
