L. Frank Baum - Oz 20

by The Hungry Tiger Of Oz

  His clothes were still wet and dripping from the unexpected bath, but his spirits were high and he was beginning to enjoy his strange experiences and to look forward with lively anticipation to his meeting with the Hungry Tiger. A brisk fifteen-minute walk brought him to the kitchen door and, slipping through, he saw the Big Wig servants seated at a large table. Their loud voices made his head thump, and to bring their faces into view he had to lean so far over backwards, he soon had a severe pain in his neck. But he was sure he would learn from them the whereabouts of little Elma and once he knew that, finding the Hungry Tiger would be almost easy. Compared with the Giants, Reddy was about the size of a small doll and none of the chattering Big Wigs noticed the little boy crouched behind the coal bucket. After listening to a great deal of conversation that did not interest him at all, Reddy was finally rewarded with the information he was seeking.

  “Where’s little Elma’s tray?” wheezed a Big Wig maid, suddenly pushing back her chair.

  “That girl grows lazier every day!”

  “There!” grunted the cook, pointing a pudgy finger toward the dresser. “And it’s high time you took it up to her, you ill-natured clod.”

  After exchanging a few more rude remarks, the maid picked up the tray and started toward a back stairway. Frantically, Reddy began to run after her, risking discovery by the others in his anxiety to keep her in view. But it was a hopeless race, and he had just given up in despair when the giantess came hurrying back for the salt, which she had forgotten. Almost treading on the breathless little boy, she snatched a salt shaker form the dresser and started off again, but this time, Reddy went with her.

  The strings of the maid’s apron reached almost to the floor, and with a mighty spring the little Prince seized one of the fluttering ends and hung on for dear life. Unconscious of her passenger, the Giantess briskly mounted the stair, Reddy swinging round and round at each step and hoping heartily that the apron string would not come untied. After a very bumpy journey, the little boy found himself at the top of the stair and next instant in the presence of the little Giant Princess herself.

  She was seated in a chair in the largest play room you could ever imagine, and looked extremely comical in her great white wig. Letting go the maid’s apron string, Reddy dropped to the floor and creeping behind a toy block, peered around in amazement. Dolls as big as himself were strewn about the floor. Noah’s Arks, toy barns, doll houses and castles as large as our own dwellings were ranged along one side of the wall and here and there were stuffed and wooden animals ofjust the right size for Reddy to ride. There was a toy train he longed to start and a wooden circus that made his heart thump with excitement.

  “I wish Betsy were here,” thought the little Prince. “Couldn’t we have fun? I wish she could see these dolls!” Scarcely hearing the clatter of dishes on the tray, as the Princess greedily ate her breakfast, Reddy’s eyes roved enviously over the vast collection of toys. A sudden thump, as the little Giantess jumped out of her chair, recalled him to the serious purpose of his visit. Princess Elma, with a saucer of cream in her hands, was pattering toward him calling at the top of her voice:

  “Here Kitty! Kitty! Kitty! Where are you Kitty dear?”

  The thought of the Hungry Tiger as a little girl’s kitten was so ridiculous that Reddy chuckled in spite of himself, and when little Elma, after several unsuccessful attempts, dragged the tiger from beneath a low sofa and began dipping his nose in the cream, Reddy laughed outright.

  The Hungry Tiger was growling and snarling so ferociously and Elma filling the air with such boisterous terms of endearment that neither of them heard. After a futile struggle with the Giantess, the

  tiger settled himself on the floor and began to lap up the cream, with an expression of unhappy and hopeless resignation. Squatting on the floor beside him, the Princess continued to shower him with vigorous caresses.

  “Finish your breakfast, sweet,” she cooed in a voice like a ferry-boat whistle, “then mother’ll take you for a nice little ride in the doll coach!”

  Reddy hoped to have a few words with the Hungry Tiger, and began to creep cautiously toward the strange pair. But just as he came within hailing distance the Hungry Tiger finished the cream, and Elma lifted him joyfully into the air. Torn between mirth and sympathy, Reddy watched the Giantess dress the indignant and struggling tiger in a doll coat and cap, tuck him unceremoniously into a doll coach and wheel him out of the nursery.

  “I’ll have to wait till they come back,” sighed Reddy, as the doll coach went bumping down the entry and the shrill protests of the Hungry Tiger grew fainter and fainter. “And while I wait I might as well look around.”

  This proved so interesting that he was surprised to hear the great clock on the mantle strike twelve. As there was still no sign of the Hungry Tiger, he sensibly decided to eat his lunch. Choosing the coziest of the doll houses, he walked boldly up the front steps and into the dining room. The chairs and table were exactly the right size, and with a little chuckle of enjoyment Reddy set the table, drew up a chair and ate his piece of pancake in peace and comfort.

  The doll house was complete in every detail, and in the kitchen cupboard the little boy found canisters of tea, coffee and sugar. There was a small gas stove that really worked, so Reddy made himself a cup of coffee and finished his lunch with a box of stale cakes he found on the dresser. Then, feeling a little sleepy, he curled up on the doll lounge in the living room and had a fine nap. After this he amused himself trying on the doll hats and coats he found in the entry closet and sliding down the curved banister.

  By this time it was four o’clock, and growing a little anxious about the Hungry Tiger, Reddy ran out of the doll house to see if the Princess had returned. But the nursery was still deserted and after trying in vain to wind up the toy engine, and taking a perilous ride on a mechanical donkey, which he did manage to start, the little boy decided to look for his friend in some of the other rooms of the palace. The toy donkey had carried him to a door leading from the play room into Princess Elma’s bedroom, and slipping through, Reddy tiptoed around, examining the tall furniture and fittings with deep interest. In the center of the room, he stopped short and gave a sharp cry of astonishment. What do you think? There, looking like a toy, in these huge surroundings, stood a bed no larger than Reddy’s own.

  “Now what,” gasped the little Prince of Rash in extreme perplexity, “is that great girl doing with a little bed like this?” There seemed no answer to the question, but a sudden clump, clump in the hall made him dash for cover. Princess Elma was coming back, and just as Reddy dove headlong into one of her slippers, she ran in, the Hungry Tiger in her arms.

  “Now stay here pet!” bellowed Elma tenderly, and dropping the tiger on the floor she skipped noisily out of the room.

  For a moment the Hungry Tiger lay motionless where he had fallen. The doll cap was down over his eyes, the doll coat in ribbons and Reddy could see that he had had a hard day. When he did attempt to rise and try to run, the doll coat threw him down at every step, and the little Prince, with a cry of sympathy and relief, ran out to help him.

  “Reddy!” roared the Hungry Tiger hoarsely, “How did you get here. Run boy, run, before that dreadful girl gets you, too. Look! Look at me!” he groaned forlornly. “How shall I ever hold up my head again? Run away, Reddy, I beg of you! Run, before it is too late!”

  “Sh-h!” whispered Reddy warningly. “We’ll run together.” Cutting the cap strings with his sword and tearing off the offensive doll coat, the little boy threw both arms round the tired old tiger and gave him a tremendous hug.

  “To think that I, the Hungry Tiger of Oz, should have come to this!” moaned the tiger, two tears running down his nose. “Oh, Oh, Oh! I shall never be the same.

  “Sh-h!” begged Reddy again. “Tonight when the Giants are asleep, we’ll escape. I still have the Rash rubies, remember.” Holding them up, Reddy looked eagerly at the ruffled and doleful tiger. The sight of the rubies seemed to restore him a
little.

  “We can try it anyway, he mused wearily. “But, take care, here comes that awful girl back again. Hide yourself, quick!”

  Reddy had just time to scramble beneath a chintz chair, when Princess Elma came bounding back, a plate of chicken in one hand and a doll bed in the other.

  CHAPTER 17

  The Big Wig’s Secret

  THE Giantess seemed astonished to find the Hungry Tiger without his wraps, and picking him up began to scold gently. She was thrusting his front paws into a doll’s night dress, when a loud voice from the next room made her pause.

  “Bother!” exclaimed Princess Elma, putting the Hungry Tiger down beside the plate of chicken, “I’ve got to take my bath. But I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t hurry,” growled the Hungry Tiger, gnashing his teeth ferociously as Elma ran toward the Big Wig nurse, standing in the doorway.

  “Why don’t you bite her,” asked Reddy, venturing out from beneath the chair.

  “My conscience tells me it would be wrong,” groaned the poor tiger. “After all, she is only a child and really means no harm.”

  Princess Elma was gone so long that Reddy and the Hungry Tiger had time to dine most comfortably on the plate of chicken and tell their strange experiences in the Giant Castle. The Hungry Tiger was amazed to learn how Reddy had been carried over the wall and listened eagerly to his plans for escape.

  “We’ll wait till midnight,” whispered the little Prince. “Then, with the Rash rubies to protect us, we’ll fall all the way down the stairs and try to find our way out of the castle.”

  “I hope nothing has happened to Carter and Betsy,” sighed the tiger mournfully. “Help me out of these horrible sleeves, boy!” But Reddy advised him to keep on the doll’s gown so that Elma would suspect nothing, and reluctantly the tiger agreed. “I had no idea kittens lead such hard lives,” he groaned

  dismally. “My ribs ache from hugging and I’ve been dragged around all day like a duster. Hide, Reddy, hide! Here she comes again.”

  Reddy lost no time in concealing himself beneath the chair, and from his hiding place he watched the Giantess kiss the Hungry Tiger good-night, and tuck him vigorously into the doll bed. Then, with a huge yawn, she walked over to her own bed-the tiny bed that had so astonished Reddy in the first place.

  “How does the great creature expect to sleep in that?” thought the little boy scornfully. How, indeed? Raising her hand to her head, Elma calmly took off her huge wig, and as she did she shrank so swiftly downward that Reddy clutched the leg of the chair and clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from screaming aloud.

  The Hungry Tiger, who had slept in the nursery the night before, was equally astonished at this sudden change in the Princess. Rearing up on all fours, he glared in disbelief at the little girl, who now no larger than Reddy, jumped unconcernedly into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. The big wig, itself, grown small enough to fit a mortal-sized person, lay on the floor beside her. So surprised that he forgot all necessity for caution, Reddy rushed out from beneath the chair, but the Hungry Tiger hastily waved him back and, curling down as if nothing unusual had happened, pretended to be asleep. Fortunately the little girl had not seen Reddy, and crawling cautiously back, he sank down beneath the chair and tried to work out the puzzle.

  “These Giants are frauds,” decided the little boy exultantly. “Why, they’re Giants only when they wear their wigs.”

  He longed to talk it over with the Hungry Tiger, but realizing the wisdom of hiding till all the Giants were abed, set himself patiently to wait.

  It grew quieter and quieter in the Giant’s Castle, and as the nursery clock tolled out twelve, the Hungry Tiger slipped noiselessly from his bed and padded softly over to the little Prince.

  “She’s asleep,” breathed the Hungry Tiger, “and so are the rest of these bogus Big Wigs. Let’s make a dash for it, my boy.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” mused Reddy, as he helped the Hungry Tiger off with the giant doll dress,

  “I’ve been thinking that it will take a long time to get out of the castle and across the city. It might take us till morning.”

  “All the more reason to start at once,” urged the Hungry Tiger. “Come along, let’s start now.

  But Reddy stood staring thoughtfully at the white wig beside Princess Elma’s bed. “I’ve been thinking,” repeated the little boy, “that if I put on that wig, I might grow into a Giant myself, run a hundred times faster than I can now and fight anyone who tries to stop us.

  “Better not,” shudddered the Hungry Tiger nervously. “It might stick to you. Come along, hop on my back and we’ll manage somehow.”

  But Reddy, remembering the steepness of the Giant stair and the hugeness of the Giant city, began to creep determinedly toward Elma’s bed. As he did, Elma stirred uneasily in her sleep, and alarmed, lest she wake and seize the wig before he could, Reddy snatched it from the floor and clapped it on his head. Stars! Up like a bean stalk shot the little boy, till he feared his head would crack against the ceiling. As he grew, the chairs, tables and furniture that had seemed so immense assumed an astonishing smallness. The Hungry Tiger running in a frantic circle round his feet, looked as he must have looked to Princess Elma-a very tiny and cunning kitten. Taking a long breath, Reddy leaned down, picked the tiger up and ran out of the room. The Hungry Tiger was scolding bitterly under his breath, but Reddy had to hold him up to his ear to discover what he was saying.

  “Mind what you’re doing,” rumbled the Hungry Tiger, crossly. “I’m tired of being picked up like a bundle of rags and tossed about. Don’t squeeze me either or I’ll bite off your thumb. Grr-uff! I’m real mad at you!”

  Chuckling a little to himself, Reddy promised to be careful, and tucking the Hungry Tiger gently beneath his arm ran down the richly carpeted hallway. He could not resist peeping into some of the rooms, and everywhere the same sight met his eyes. Tiny beds stood in the midst of gigantic bed chambers and the Giants themselves, no bigger than ordinary folk, sleeping comfortably without their wigs.

  “It would be a great chance to capture the city,” mused Reddy to himself and for a time wondered whether it might not be fun to try. But he was so anxious to see Betsy and Carter and continue his search for the lost ruby, that he decided to let the foolish Big Wigs rest in peace. Quickening his steps, he hurried down-stairs, unbolted the doors and let himself out of the castle. Several Big Wig Guards looked at him curiously, as he hurried down the street, but they made no attempt to stop him.

  “It’s funny,” said Reddy to the Hungry Tiger, as he panted along. “This city doesn’t look large at all and it’s not nearly so big nor fine as Rash.”

  “That’s because you’re a Giant now,” roared the tiger, who was gradually recovering his good humor. “It looks pretty big to me. Where are we anyway?”

  “Right at the gates,” answered Reddy triumphantly. “Here, you, get out of the way!” The Big Wig Guard, who was asleep with his back against the wall, blinked with surprise and resentment as Reddy spun him out of his path and slid back the bolts. Then, opening the gates, Reddy darted through, calling Betsy Bobbin at the top of his voice.

  “Hush!” roared the Hungry Tiger. “Be still, can’t you. Do you want to scare her to death?”

  We know already how frightened Betsy and the Vegetable Man really were. Failing to recognize Reddy in the huge big wig, as he came bounding through the door way, they took hands and ran for their lives.

  “Come back! Come back!” pleaded the Prince of Rash, making frantic little snatches at the fleeing pair. “Stop, Carter! Stop, Betsy! Don’t you know me?”

  “The wig, idiot. Take off the wig,” grumbled the Hungry Tiger, who was tired of being jostled up and down. “Take off the wig.”

  So Reddy, who had been about to lift Betsy up and explain who he was, snatched off his wig instead. In a twinkling he had shrunk down to boy-size and, releasing his hold on the Hungry Tiger, chased merrily after Carter and Betsy.

 
; “Betsy! Betsy!” gasped the little Prince breathlessly. “Don’t run away from me.” When Betsy, scarcely believing her ears, looked over her shoulder and saw Reddy and the Hungry Tiger instead of a Big Wig, she spun about in perfect astonishment.

  “But the Giant!” exclaimed Betsy, while Carter Green hurried forward to embrace Reddy and hug the Hungry Tiger. “What became of the Giant?”

  “Here it is,” coughed the Hungry Tiger, dropping Princess Elma’s wig, which he had picked up when Reddy dropped it, and brought along in his teeth.

  While Carter and Betsy continued to stare at them in wonder, Reddy related the history of his experience in Immense City, and told how he had stolen the wig. Then, to demonstrate its strange power, he tried it on and turned before their eyes into a Big Wig himself.

  “Well,” sighed Betsy Bobbin, as he took it off and shrank down beside her, “I don’t believe anybody in Oz is having as queer adventures as this. Do you, Carter?” The Vegetable Man shook his head positively.

  “But they’re turning out all right,” he added cheerfully. “Here we are, all together again, with two of the lost rubies and a magic wig besides. I think we should be very happy,” finished Carter, smiling at the Hungry Tiger.

  “That’s because you were never a kitten,” roared the tiger, beginning to lick his satiny coat into smoothness again. “What I’ve endured at the hands of that great girl no one will ever know! Ugh! Brrr-rr!”

  “Won’t she have to stay little without her wig?” asked Betsy, curiously.