"Ain't there any blamed way at all to stop her?"
"None that I know of," said Button-Bright anxiously.
"P'raps," said Trot after a pause during which she tried hard to
think. "P'raps 'Sky Island' isn't the name of that island at all."
"Why, we know very well it ain't the name of it," yelled Cap'n Bill
from below. "We jus' called it that 'cause its right name is too
hard to say."
"That's the whole trouble, then," returned Button-Bright. "Somewhere
in the world there's a real Sky Island, and having told the Magic
Umbrella to take us there, it's going to do so."
"Well, I declare!" gasped the sailorman. "Can't we land anywhere
else?"
"Not unless you care to tumble off," said the boy. "I've told the
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.
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