That was a remarkably big desert. There was nothing to
relieve the monotony of view and every minute seemed an
hour and every hour a day. Disagreeable fumes and gases
rose from the sands, which would have been deadly to the
travelers had they not been so high in the air. As it
was, Trot was beginning to feel sick, when a breath of
fresher air filled her nostrils and on looking ahead she
saw a great cloud of pink-tinted mist. Even while she
wondered what it could be, the Ork plunged boldly into
the mist and the other birds followed. She could see
nothing for a time, nor could the bird which carried her
see where the Ork had gone, but it kept flying as
sturdily as ever and in a few moments the mist was passed
and the girl saw a most beautiful landscape spread out
below her, extending as far as her eye could reach.
She saw bits of forest, verdure clothed hills, fields
of waving grain, fountains, rivers and lakes; and
throughout the scene were scattered groups of pretty
houses and a few grand castles and palaces.
Over all this delightful landscape -- which from Trot's
high perch seemed like a magnificent painted picture --
was a rosy glow such as we sometimes see in the west at
sunset.
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