No sound came to him through the leaf; all
around was intense silence. Ojo wondered if Scraps
had stopped screaming, or if the folds of the leaf
prevented his hearing her. By and by he thought he
heard a whistle, as of some one whistling a tune.
Yes; it really must be some one whistling, he
decided, for he could follow the strains of a
pretty Munchkin melody that Unc Nunkie used to
sing to him. The sounds were low and sweet and,
although they reached Ojo's ears very faintly,
they were clear and harmonious.
Could the leaf whistle, Ojo wondered? Nearer and
nearer came the sounds and then they seemed to be
just the other side of the leaf that was hugging
him.
Suddenly the whole leaf toppled and fell,
carrying the boy with it, and while he sprawled at
full length the folds slowly relaxed and set him
free. He scrambled quickly to his feet and found
that a strange man was standing before him--a man
so curious in appearance that the boy stared with
round eyes.
He was a big man, with shaggy whiskers, shaggy
eyebrows, shaggy hair--but kindly blue eyes that
were gentle as those of a cow. On his head was a
green velvet hat with a jeweled band, which was
all shaggy around the brim. Rich but shaggy laces
were at his throat; a coat with shaggy edges was
decorated with diamond buttons; the velvet
breeches had jeweled buckles at the knees and
shags all around the bottoms.
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