umbrella to take us to Sky Island, so that's the exact place we're
bound for. I'm sorry. It was your fault for giving me the wrong
name."

They glided along in silence for a while. The island was now far
behind them, growing small in the distance. "Where do you s'pose the
real Sky Island can be?" asked Trot presently.

"We can't tell anything about it until we get there," Button-Bright
answered. "Seems to me I've heard of the Isle of Skye, but that's
over in Great Britain, somewhere the other side of the world, and it
isn't Sky Island, anyhow."

"This miser'ble ol' umbrel is too pertic'ler," growled Cap'n Bill.
"It won't let you change your mind an' it goes ezzac'ly where you
say."

"If it didn't," said Trot, "we'd never know where we were going."

"We don't know now," said the sailor. "One thing's certain, folks:
we're gett'n' a long way from home."

"And see how the clouds are rolling just above us," remarked the
boy, who was almost as uneasy as Cap'n Bill.

"We're in the sky, all right," said the girl. "If there could be an
island up here among the clouds, I'd think it was there we're
going."

"Couldn't there be one?" asked Button-Bright. "Why couldn't there be