L. Frank Baum - Oz 40

by Merry Go Round In Oz

  “Me, too,” Flitter said proudly.

  “Well, they don’t seem much clearer to me,” Fess said, but he read them aloud. “Circlet Two, of purest gold, Was carried off by a villain bold. Problems will your path encumber; Trust in the humblest of your number.

  Circlet Three, a tiny thing,

  Is in the hands of a future king.

  Go by night, return by day,

  The Circlet find in a roundabout way.”

  There was baffled silence for a moment. Presently Dorothy sighed and shook her head. “Far as I’m concerned, those two verses are still nonsense,” she confessed.

  “Complete nonsense! In fact, that middle verse merely tells us what we already know!” the Prince added irritably, forgetting he was going to be charitable toward Crystal Balls.

  “Except where it says about trusting me,” the Flittermouse said in a small, nervous voice, and began to mumble plaintively to himself, “Says I’m humble-Mustn’t grumble. Says I’m trusty, So I must be. Says I’m willin’ To catch the villain. What is less clear Is how, Fess-dear?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it tonight,” Fess told his little pet with a smile. “Maybe it’ll all be clear tomorrow.”

  By this time their scanty meal was finished, and everybody was beginning to yawn. Dorothy’s dress was quite dry now, and she thankfully put it on, wrapping the discarded pinafore around the Egg as padding and packing the whole bundle into the basket.

  ”Now when morning comes, I’ll be all ready to leave here she explained.

  “Wonder where here is, by the way?” the Cowardly Lion said uneasily, squinting into the blackness between the trees.

  “Just a thick forest, that’s all I know. A mighty thick one,” Dorothy, too, gazed thoughtfully into the unknown darkness. “Say, do you s’pose it could be the Great Blue Forest? That’s in the Munchkin Country, all right, and it’s enormous on the maps. If that’s where we are, I hope we’re right on the edge of it, ‘cause if we aren’t, we could get awful lost.”

  “Perhaps we’re lost now,” Prince Gules said with a yawn. “I must say I don’t care. I intend to sleep for hours and hours and hours without so much as stirring. Tomorrow, I’ll consider the matter of where we are.

  “And I’ll write a little song about it,” Flitter crooned sleepily. “Fess dear, where’s your cap?”

  Fess hastily placed his cap over a soft patch of moss, and the Flittermouse disappeared underneath it. One by one the others arranged themselves comfortably around the fire or under nearby trees, and before long most of them were fast asleep and dreaming.

  Prince Gules had a wonderful dream. He dreamed he was riding, victorious, back into Pax-on-Argent. He was wearing all three Golden Circlets, and Lady Annelet, whom he had somehow rescued from a dragon, rode beside him on her palfrey, beaming at him and chanting, “Oh, good for you, Gulie! Oh, good for you, Gulie! Oh, good for you, Gulie!”

  The Unicorn dreamed she was walking in a procession beside

  Prince Gules’s greatgrandfather, simply smothered in daisy chains and attended by twenty maidens, all of whom were Dorothy.

  The Flittermouse dreamed-in rhyme-that the University of Halidom was conferring upon him an honorary degree for Smartness and Verse-picacity, and that Fess was applauding proudly from the front row.

  Dorothy dreamed somebody was trying to convince her there was, too, such a thing as a Flittermouse, and that she didn’t believe it.

  Three of the party were not dreaming. The Cowardly Lion, who had planted his massive self on the farthest edge of the clearing, was taking only lion-naps, keeping one yellow eye warily open in case of danger. Fess (who thought the Lion was fast asleep) had privately resolved to do the same thing. For a long time he lay staring into the flames, his chin on his fists and his mind wandering among the strange scenes of the past two days. Then, because he was just a little bit homesick, his thoughts Sneaked away, back to the Crenelated Wall and the last glimpse he had had of the moonlit castles and mulberry orchards and azure fields of Halidom. Just as he was anxiously hoping that he had remembered to tell Barry to break an egg over the kanets’ chopped meat every morning, a twig snapped nearby, startling him until he recognized the big black shadow that had drifted up beside him.

  “Oh-it’s you, Federigo! Why aren’t you asleep?”

  “I have been asleep-dozing, anyway. And thinking,” the

  Steed added carelessly.

  “Thinking?”

  Fred nodded, tossed back his mane, and contrived to look elaborately unconcerned about almost anything one could mention. “Nice night, isn’t it?” he said brightly.

  “What have you been thinking about, Federigo?” Fess asked with a smile.

  “Oh, nothing in particular, really. Just about this-well, this fancy name notion I had for a while. This Federigo. Sounds a little silly. Not at all the thing. I’d rather you’d just call me Fred, if it’s no particular trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all.” Fess got up, threw another branch on the fire, and walked over to stroke the Steed’s gleaming black neck. “Fred’s a very nice name, really. I’ve always thought so.”

  “Well, at any rate, it’s good enough for me,” Fred mumbled. “Common-undistinguished-suits me, I expect,” he added with a short whinny of laughter. “I never told you, but one of my grandfathers was a plow-horse.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “No. He was a good plow-horse. Well, g’night.”

  “Goodnight,” Fess said. Affectionately he watched the Steed move away into the trees, both glad and just a little bit sorry that Fred had actually become smart enough not to put on airs, and hoping it wouldn’t change him much. Stretching out again beside the fire, he decided to worry about the forest, and getting

  lost, in order to keep himself awake. He was still thinking hard about this problem three minutes later, when he fell asleep.

  Fred was asleep too, head drooping and one hip cocked. He was dreaming intently. In his dream, Princess Ozma was bestowing on him an emerald-studded gold medal-for sheer merit, valor and character-even though knowing all about his grandfather and not a thing about his cousin who was a Destrier.

  Chapter 15

  THE MORNING mists were still floating like veils among the trees when the Cowardly Lion rose with a yawn, shook his heavy mane, and looked about him. The Unicorn was already browsing on the dew-covered moss a little distance away, and after telling her that he was off to find himself some breakfast, the Lion padded away silently through the forest. As a matter of fact, he had decided to do some exploring. Dorothy’s remark last night had worried him, and he knew that if this really were the huge Blue Forest of the Munchkin Country, there was a good chance they might wander about in it for weeks before discovering a way out.

  The sun was high before he returned to the clearing, now more worried than before. He had ranged far in every direction, without seeing anything but trees, an occasional stream, much undergrowth, and still more trees.

  “I can’t find any squirrels or birds to ask questions of, either,” he told the others gloomily. “We’re lost, all right, and I don’t like it. At this point, I’d even go back to Good Children’s Land -if I knew which way to go. All we can do is follow one of those streams, and hope it’ll lead us out of the forest somehow.”

  Dorothy, Fess and the Prince had already breakfasted on wild plums and blueberries, so without further delay the little party started off, Prince Gules remarking that the Circlet would probably make him smart enough to find their way, and Dorothy added staunchly that though she’d been lost often, she’d never stayed lost long.

  “You know, I’ve been wondering, Prince,” she said as they threaded their way through the forest. “Do you s’pose those other Circlets could be right under our noses, too, and we just haven’t seen

  “Not unless you or the Lion have them,” Prince Gules

  answered.

  “Well I don’t have a single other metal thing except shoe-buckles,” Doro
thy sighed. “And the Cowardly Lion doesn’t even have those. But-I guess it’s useless to suspect any of those silver things on Fred’s bridle? Some of ‘em are circles.”

  Fred politely smothered a horselaugh, and the Prince shook his head, smiling. “Those silver ornaments were made in Troth, long after that popinjay carried off Circlet Three. And of Course, the bridle is my property and in my possession so even if the

  robber had contrived to fasten Circlet Two onto it somewhere Fred and I would still be strong, as would all my father’s subjects.”

  “You don’t seem very weak to me,” Dorothy observed.

  “Nor do I feel as weak as I did the first day after Circlet Two was stolen, but I believe I’ve just grown used to it. I tried to pick up Fred’s saddle this morning, and I could barely lift it. By my buckler, I’d hate to try a joust!”

  “Me, too,” Fred agreed with feeling. “That dashing about yesterday nearly did me in.”

  “Well, all right, I just thought I’d ask,” Dorothy said reluctantly. “I s’pose that popinjay couldn’t have just flown over to Troth? And just happened to drop Circlet Three in that bridle-factory or whatever it is, and-”

  This time it was the Cowardly Lion who had to smother his laughter-not quite successfully.

  Fess explained that there had been a strong east wind that evening, according to old timers’ accounts, so probably the popinjay had been blown right over the Crenelated Wall, and for all anybody knew, to the other end of Oz. “So we’ll just have to keep on hunting, I’m afraid,” he finished. “That is’ if this stream ever leads us out of the forest so we can keep on!

  By noon, however, the stream they had chosen to follow had done nothing but lead them farther and farther into increasingly thick forest, and finally, to their disgust, it poured itself into a very deep pool and simply ended.

  “How aggr’vating!” Dorothy said, putting her hands on her hips and scowling at the pool. “It must go right underground here. I thought rivers and streams were all supposed to empty into the Nonestic Ocean!”

  “Not that we want to go to the Nonestic Ocean,” the Cowardly Lion said moodily.

  “No, but we’d be sure to get out of this forest on the way there. Why, my goodness, if we spend much more time in this place, we’ll miss the Easter party!” “And I’ll never find the other Circlets!” said the Prince. “A pox on this following of streams! I propose we strike out boldly for ourselves. We can’t possibly be any more lost than we are already.”

  So, after lingering by the pool long enough for the Cowardly Lion to catch a few fish with his big, swift paw, and Fess and Dorothy to grill them for lunch over a twig fire, they chose a direction at random and started off, determined to keep going in a straight line. This proved terribly difficult; they kept having to detour around boulders or thickets or ponds, and by mid-afternoon no longer had any idea whether they were going in a straight line or in circles It was just at the point when their spirits were lowest, when Flitter had begun to cry a little and Dorothy was trying not to, that Fred, who was plodding in lead, stopped suddenly and exclaimed, “Look! Here’s a road!

  The others crowded up beside him eagerly.

  “Well, anyway, a path,” Fess amended.

  “No matter, it’s quite visible enough to follow! And it must lead somewhere,” the Prince declared.

  He and Fred started briskly along the little trail. The Cowardly Lion, privately hoping it wouldn’t lead merely to some deserted clearing, trotted after him, with the Unicorn, Fess and Flitter following behind. It was certainly easier going than pushing through the underbrush as they had been doing the whole day, but the path wound and curved and doubled back on itself so much that even the Prince soon began to have misgivings.

  “In my opinion, we’re still just going in circles,” he muttered as he tried to see around the next bend. “‘Round and ‘round and ‘round.”

  “And up and down, too”’ the Cowardly Lion observed, beginning to pant a little.

  “But aren’t the trees beginning to thin out just a little?” Dorothy said hopefully. “And look! There’s a bird, at last!”

  Sure enough, a blue-jay was sitting on a branch near the path, grooming his wing-feathers and watching them with an indifferent sapphire eye.

  “Good afternoon,” Prince Gules said politely. “Could you tell us where this road goes, please?”

  The bird studied him a moment, then said, “Oh, round about,” in a casual tone, and went on with its left wing.

  “That’s obvious,” the Lion growled. “What we want to

  know is does it ever get anywhere?”

  The jay glared at him. “I have already answered that question!’^ said. With an insulted flirt of its tail, it flew away.

  ‘Already answered!’ ” Fred repeated in disgust. “All he said was ‘round about.’ Roundabout?” he neighed suddenly.

  At the same moment, several of the others chorused, “The verse! The Oracle!”

  ‘The Circlet find in a roundabout way!’ ” the Prince quoted. “This is certainly a roundabout way,” he added bitterly, as they started again up the winding, meandering, hilly path. “But I fail to see how that will help us find the Circlet, unless it’s lying somewhere on this road.”

  “Oh, dear!” the Unicorn said in dismay. “Surely no one would leave your dear ancestors’ Golden Circlet lying about on a road! Besides, that’s the one that’s ‘in the hands of a future king,’ isn’t it?”

  “That’s right,” Dorothy sighed. “That pesky Crystal Ball! I hope it knows what it’s talking about!”

  “It did before,” the Prince reminded her, tapping Circlet One.

  “So did we-after we’d found the Circlet,” Fred puffed scornfully. He stopped a moment to catch his breath. They were nearing the top of the slope, and it was growing steeper all the time. “For my part, I wish the thing had known how to talk plain Ozzish,” he grumbled as he bent his head and started the tiresome climb again. “I don’t hold with this poetry stuff. Or

  pictures, either! Remember? The first question we asked it, it tried to fob us off with a picture of itself, instead of an answer. Just a picture of a crystal ball! Now why did it do that?” “It must have had some good reason,” said the Prince. Nobody commented; the others felt too doubtful to agree and too breathless to discuss it. The Flittermouse alone seemed to take the Prince’s words to heart, repeating “Some good reason,” solemnly to itself several times, then murmuring rather moodily,

  “Some good reason, Not just teasin’. Told us right, Just last night. Kind of taunting, Pretty daunting. Won’t talk plainly, Babbles, mainly. Still insists That we persist

  Why, there’s a Crystal Ball!” it finished in as they reached the top of the hill at last.

  “So there is!” Dorothy gasped.

  They all stood staring in astonishment. Abruptly, at the crest of the ridge, the forest had ended. Before them lay a barren circular valley criss-crossed by roads and ringed with hills.

  And in the middle of the valley stood something that looked precisely like a huge blue crystal ball.

  “Could it be a picture of that, the Oracle was showing us?” Fess breathed.

  “Don’t know,” the Lion gulped uneasily. “What is it?”

  “A city?” Dorothy guessed.

  “A kind of castle!” Prince Gules exclaimed. He gazed at it in growing excitement. “I say, it must be what the Oracle meant! Just look at it!”

  “And just look at that road running ‘round and ‘round it!” roared the Cowardly Lion with a shudder.

  “No matter, there must be a bridge!” the Prince said impatiently. “I’ll wager it’s hidden in that space underneath the dome. And I’ll also wager my best buckler that this place has a king, and that the king has Circlet Three, the rogue!”

  “But the Oracle said ‘a future king’,” Fess objected.

  “Then perhaps he’s a prince! Whatever he is, if he has my Circlet, I mean to find it! Charge, Fred! Forward for Halidom!”
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  “Oh, wait!” Dorothy cried in dismay. “Let’s make a plan! Let’s-oh, dear, I ‘wish he wouldn’t be so impulsive!”

  But the Prince, flourishing his sword, had already plunged recklessly down the rocky hillside, and Fess, after exchanging one startled glance with the Lion, gulped “For Halidom!” and plunged loyally in pursuit. The Cowardly Lion swallowed and began to tremble. Then, laying his ears flat and roaring “For

  the Prince and Fess!” in his most horrendous tones, he bounded after the Unicorn’s flying hooves.

  In another two minutes they were all ranged at the brink of the glass road, shouting fiercely for the bridge in the name of King Herald of Halidom, Princess Ozma of Oz, and anybody else they could think of.

  A few moments later, Robin Brown, who was slouched in utter boredom on his blue glass throne plaiting and unplaiting Merry’s gilded reins, was startled by the sound of pounding footsteps. Next instant the thick glass door was flung shatteringly open, and a puffing Roundhead-it was Polkadots-dashed in.

  “Visitors, Your Majesty!” he bawled, and had barely time to leap aside before what seemed a whole menagerie swept in after him.

  To Robin and Merry in the throne room, their appearance was electrifying. Robin half-started from his throne, staring wild-eyed at the biggest lion he had ever seen; Merry’s incredulous gaze riveted on the Unicorn.

  “His-His Highness, Gules of H-Halidom,” Polkadots announced, then dashed through one of the doors in search of Roundelay.