The Big Book of Modern Fantasy

by The Big Book of Modern Fantasy (retail) (epub)

  “Your tail is an idiosyncrasy, then. Is that what you mean?” asked Bumbleboom.

  Before Lolopo could reply, Poolwana cried out anxiously: “But look here, what’s wrong with poor Joomeel? He hasn’t uttered a word for such a long time! Have you squeezed him to death, Bumbleboom?”

  “I haven’t—yet. But how can you expect him to speak when Lolopo’s tail is in his mouth?”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Is my tail in his mouth? I had no idea it had worked its way round as far as his mouth.”

  Lolopo withdrew his tail from Joomeel’s mouth and Joomeel cried: “Oh, I thought I’d never be able to utter a word again. And I’ve never tasted such a horrible tail in all my life!”

  “That couldn’t be so,” said Lolopo. “I carried out my morning ablutions most punctiliously.”

  “More big words!” sighed Bumbleboom. “I do believe he’s cursing us all and we don’t even know it!”

  “Oh, but please! Please!” pleaded Memba. “Won’t somebody explain what’s happening in this orchid this morning? I’m so curious and no one will tell me a single word.”

  “I’ll tell you all about it, Miss Memba,” smiled Bumbleboom. “And I shall be charmed to do so, believe me. This little pink jee I’m sitting on stole some of my best pollen jam, and I’m going to strip him and eat him if Poolwana doesn’t give me three pools of honey. That’s all. It’s very simply explained.”

  “I’m surprised at you to be so cruel,” frowned Memba.

  “You think it is cruel, Miss Memba?” said Bumbleboom. “Well, if you think so I’ll let Joomeel go this instant.” Then a gleam of cunning came into his eyes, and he said: “If I let him go will you promise to come up to my palace-nest with me and have a cup of honey-brew?”

  “Aha,” said Lolopo. “The plot thickens.”

  “If you’re hinting at my honey-brew, Lolopo,” said Bumbleboom stiffly, “I’d like to inform you that my honey-brew is the thinnest and best in all the jungle. There isn’t any as thin and mellow anywhere in this country.”

  Before anybody could say anything else there came a swift tinkling sound outside the cave, and several red dots went hurtling past.

  “The firefly brigade!” exclaimed Poolwana. “There’s a fire somewhere!”

  The words were hardly out of his mouth when a breathless little black jee arrived and gasped: “Oh, lord and masters! Oh, dear Lord Bumbleboom! There’s terrible news for you! Your best and oldest honey-brew vat is on fire!”

  PART II

  “What!” roared Bumbleboom, springing up but still keeping a tight hold on Joomeel’s two legs. Joomeel struggled and kicked out with his other free legs and cried: “Oh, please let go, Mr. Bumbleboom! Please let go! My legs are quite numb from your sitting on them!”

  But Bumbleboom did not even hear Joomeel. Bumbleboom glared at his servant—for the little black jee was his servant—and bellowed, “How could such a thing have happened! I turn my back for five minutes and fire breaks out in my best and oldest honey-brew vat! What have you servants been up to?”

  “It’s sabotage,” said Lolopo.

  “Who is he?” asked Bumbleboom red as a cherry—redder than a cherry, I mean—with rage. “Tell me where to find him and I’ll have his legs and arms cut off one by one.”

  “It’s the name of a something not of a someone,” said Lolopo.

  “Oh, please don’t quarrel,” pleaded Poolwana. “In the meantime poor Joomeel is suffering.”

  “Who wants to quarrel?” said Bumbleboom. “Tell this silly lizard to stop talking in riddles. He said a creature called Sabotage set the fire to my honey-brew vat; and when I ask him where to find Sabotage he says Sabotage is a something and not a someone. Who wouldn’t get impatient at an answer like that, I ask you!”

  “Please, Mr. Bumbleboom, please let go,” moaned poor Joomeel. “My legs feel like ice they’re so numb.”

  “They won’t feel like anything at all in a minute,” said Bumbleboom angrily. “This decides me finally. If Poolwana doesn’t give me enough honey to put back what I’ve lost in my honey-brew vat I’m going to strip you and eat you as I said I would.”

  “No one would be surprised at your doing such a dreadful thing,” said Memba in a cold voice.

  Suddenly two black-and-red ants came into the cave with frowns on their faces. They paused and stared around at the company gathered and then looked at Poolwana, and one of them said: “Poolwana, you never mentioned that you were having a party. Have you forgotten we black-and-red ants have our eggs on the stem of your orchid? They’ve just hatched out and we can’t keep the children from crying because of the noise in here. I’m surprised at you, Poolwana, for asking these noisy creatures into your cave.”

  “The cheek!” roared Bumbleboom. “Are you calling me a noisy creature! I won’t be insulted by a silly black ant! Do you know who I am, madam?”

  “You,” said the black-and-red ant, “are a foolish, conceited black-and-red jee, and I can excuse you for calling me a silly black ant!”

  Bumbleboom went so red the little black jee, his servant, began to tremble in dread, thinking that his master would burst.

  “Do you know, madam,” said Bumbleboom, in a rage that made him sway from side to side so that poor little Joomeel nearly got squashed to death on the floor of the cave, “do you know, madam, that if I wanted I could have my palace guards come here and smash all your eggs to bits so that you would be childless? How dare you speak to a powerful jee like me in such a manner?”

  “Oh, please! Please! Don’t quarrel in my cave!” pleaded Poolwana. “The orchid might be offended and close up and crush us all to death.”

  But the black-and-red ant, who did not believe in the orchid as a thing that possessed any magic powers, replied to Bumbleboom: “I’ll say just what I like to you. I know you hate all of us black-and-red ants, but I don’t care.”

  “It’s the colour question,” said Lolopo.

  “You shut up, you foolish lizard!” bawled Bumbleboom.

  “Mr. Lolopo is right,” said the black-and-red ant. “You’re prejudiced against us black-and-red ants because you know we have your colours. You hate to know that there are black-and-red ants in the world because you happen to be a black-and-red jee.”

  “She’s an educated ant,” said Memba, in a whisper to Poolwana. “Did you hear the big word she used? She said ‘prejudiced’?”

  “I heard it,” whispered back Poolwana. “Aggie went to school.”

  “Is that her name? Aggie?”

  “Yes. And the other black-and-red ant with her is called Baggie.”

  “What pretty names,” said Memba.

  “Aggie lays the eggs,” said Poolwana, “and Baggie bags them.”

  “How strange!” said Memba. “But, Poolwana, why don’t you give Bumbleboom the honey he wants and let him release Joomeel? I hate to see a sweet little pink jee like that have to suffer so much.”

  Poolwana sighed and looked up at the blue in the orchid’s ceiling. “It isn’t my honey to give, Memba,” said Poolwana wearily. “And if—even if—it were, I have no large spoon or jars to put it in so as to give it to anyone.”

  “But that’s where I could be of help if you like,” said Memba. “I could push in my probo—I mean my long sucker—and suck up as much as any jar could hold. And I could take it to the palace-nest.”

  “What!” exclaimed Poolwana. “You mean you’d go to Bumbleboom’s palace!”

  “If it’s an errand of mercy I would. That’s what it’s called, I’ve heard. My uncle was well educated, and he used to call it that when he sent me to get a drink for him. He was too old to go himself.”

  Poolwana now became very worried, indeed. He said to Memba: “Thanks for the offer, Memba, but I’ll have to think it over for a few minutes. I really must think it over firs
t. I’m so scared of doing anything that the orchid mightn’t like. This is a magic-orchid. You other creatures don’t believe it, but I believe it.”

  “It’s faith,” said Lolopo who had been listening to Poolwana and Memba’s little chat and not to the quarrel that was still going on between Bumbleboom and Aggie. Every time Bumbleboom shouted at Aggie he gave Joomeel’s legs a quick angry squeeze, and Joomeel was in tears.

  “We’ll really have to do something and do it quickly, Poolwana,” said Memba. “He’ll soon kill the poor little fellow at this rate. Can’t you give the matter a very quick think and decide to let me take the honey? My probo—I mean my sucker can reach the pools easily. These bars won’t trouble me.”

  Bumbleboom stopped shouting at Aggie in the middle of a long sentence, because another of his servants had just arrived—another little black jee.

  “Oh, lord and master!” cried the little black jee. “Oh, Lord Bumbleboom! The fire has spread to two more of your honey-brew vats! The firefly brigade is doing its best but the fire still spreads and spreads!”

  “What! It isn’t true! It isn’t true,” roared Bumbleboom, so put out that he nearly let go of Joomeel’s legs. Joomeel groaned in disappointment and began to cry, “If that didn’t make him let me go,” he murmured, “nothing ever will. I may as well prepare myself to be stripped and eaten.”

  “What are we paying the firefly brigade for!” shouted Bumbleboom, fiery-red with rage. “A silly little fire in one honey-brew vat and they can’t put it out! What are they fit for!”

  “It’s inefficiency,” said Lolopo.

  “It’s what? You shut up, Lolopo! I’m tired of your big words!” Bumbleboom turned suddenly toward Poolwana. “Poolwana,” he said, “this makes it more certain than ever. If you don’t give me enough honey to make up for all I’ve lost in my three honey-brew vats I’m going to strip and eat this thief of a pink jee—and I’m going to strip him an inch a second to make it more painful for him. So you’d better hurry up and decide.”

  “But even if I could give it to you,” said Poolwana miserably, “how will you be able to fetch it away? I have no large spoons nor—nor anything that honey can be fetched in.” Poolwana gave Memba a quick glance as if to say: “Please, Memba, don’t offer to do it for him. I know you want to help Joomeel but I haven’t made up my mind yet whether I ought to give him.”

  Bumbleboom snorted. “What a silly excuse!” he shouted. “Don’t you know I have hundreds of servants at my command, you idiotic little creature! I can send twenty of them at a time with pots, and in less than six trips I’ll have got all the honey I want from your pools!”

  “Transportation,” said Lolopo.

  Bumbleboom took no notice of Lolopo, however. He said to Poolwana: “This is your last chance to save this young thief of a pink jee. My patience is at an end. I’ve remained in this cave long enough. I want some fresh air. Unless you give me your answer in half-a-minute I’m going to start stripping the skin off your little friend here.”

  Bumbleboom began to count. Everyone listened to him in silence. Joomeel groaned softly and perspired. Memba looked sad, and Poolwana began to pace up and down, shaking his head with worry and anxiety. Lolopo was calm, and seemed not to care what happened one way or the other. Aggie and Baggie, the red-and-black ants, glared sulkily at Bumbleboom. The two black jees trembled with fear.

  “…twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!” counted Bumbleboom and stopped.

  “Time is up,” he said, his hold on Joomeel’s legs tightening. “What’s your answer, Poolwana? Speak!”

  Poolwana stopped pacing and looked at Bumbleboom.

  Bumbleboom looked back at Poolwana.

  “It’s drama,” said Lolopo.

  But no one bothered with Lolopo.

  Poolwana cleared his throat, took one last fearful glance at the bright blue above, and then nodded and said in a low, husky voice: “Very well, Bumbleboom. I can’t do anything else but say yes.”

  “You’ll give me the honey to replace what I’ve lost in my three honey-brew vats?” asked Bumbleboom.

  “Yes, I’ll give you.”

  “You promise? On your sacred word as a creature in this orchid?”

  “On my sacred word as a creature in this orchid,” said Poolwana.

  “Very well,” said Bumbleboom, and released Joomeel’s two legs.

  Joomeel chirped with jeeful joy. “Oh, Poolwana!” he cried. “I’ll never forget this! You’ve saved my life. Oh, you’ve saved my life!”

  “It’s nothing, Joomeel,” said Poolwana, glancing up at the bright blue and expecting something dreadful to happen at any instant.

  Joomeel began to do a dance round the cave while Bumbleboom grunted and frowned. “Don’t you crow too soon,” he said to Joomeel, “I haven’t got the honey yet. If Poolwana doesn’t keep his word when my servants come to take the honey, I’ll have my palace-guardsmen hunt you down and strip you into threads.”

  Joomeel stopped dancing and looked anxiously at Poolwana. “Poolwana, you’ll keep your word, won’t you?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “We’ll test him out right away,” said Bumbleboom, and turning to the two black jees, his servants, said to them: “Sons of dirt and black wax! Up you get and off to the palaces! Tell my housekeeper to send twenty kitchen slaves with twenty pots for honey from these pools.”

  “Yes, lord and master!” said the two black jees in chorus; as though they had rehearsed it several times. They turned and left in breathless haste.

  Poolwana kept sighing to himself, and every now and then he glanced round at the pools of honey. Once or twice he looked up at the bright blue overhead as if expecting to see a white light appear and hear a loud rushing noise. The wind caused the orchid to sway slightly, and Poolwana started and cried out: “Oh, did you see that! The orchid shook!”

  “And what of that?” snorted Bumbleboom. “It’s only a gust of wind. Are you afraid of the winds too! I never thought you were such a coward.”

  “It wasn’t the wind,” said Poolwana, moaning. “It was the orchid. It’s angry with me for agreeing to give you the honey in the pools.”

  “Poolwana, you were silly to let this big bumptious jee trick you,” said Aggie, the black-and-red ant.

  “What word is that you used?” asked Bumbleboom, moving a step toward Aggie. “Bumptious. What is bumptious? Lolopo, what does that word mean? If it’s an insulting word I’m going to have my palace-guardsmen attack those eggs outside on the stem of this orchid. And I mean it.”

  “What’s the difference between your palace-guardsmen and your palace-guards?”asked Aggie, not in the least afraid of Bumbleboom.

  But Bumbleboom ignored her. “Lolopo,” said Bumbleboom, “please tell me the meaning of ‘bumptious.’ ”

  “ ‘Bumptious,’ ” said Lolopo, “means so rich that you can bump us all and we dare not bump you back.”

  Bumbleboom grunted, not certain whether to be pleased or angry. After a moment he said: “Well, if that’s all it means I won’t do anything about it. But I’m not going to be insulted by a tiny black ant who is not even good enough to walk on my jee tracks.”

  At this point, the two black jees appeared at the entrance of the cave.

  They trembled so much that they nearly toppled backward. Their tiny eyes looked white in their tiny black heads—white and wide with fear. In chorus, they gasped: “Oh, lord and masters! Oh, Lord Bumbleboom! A dreadful, dreadful thing has happened! All your honey-brew vats are on fire. The fire has spread. And not only that, oh, lord and master! Oh, not only that, Lord Bumbleboom! The fire has crossed over to your storehouses with your best and richest pollen jam. Nothing can save your storehouses now. Not even the firefly brigade.”

  Bumbleboom was so shocked by this news that he could not speak. He stood swayin
g from side to side and getting lighter red and lighter red. At long last, he gasped, “But this could not be! If my pollen-jam storehouses are on fire and all my honey-brew vats are on fire, too, then my riches are going from me. I’m becoming a poor man.”

  “It’s a crash,” said Lolopo.

  Memba whispered to Poolwana, “Why, he’s getting lighter red and lighter red every minute, Poolwana. Do you notice? He’ll soon be as pink as Joomeel at this rate. Oh, I’m so thrilled! I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.”

  “Where are the servants I sent you for?” wailed Bumbleboom. “Why aren’t they here yet with pots to fetch away the honey from the pools in this orchid? Have my orders been disobeyed?” asked Bumbleboom getting less lighter red and lighter red, and moving threateningly toward the two black jees.

  “Oh, lord and master! Oh, Lord Bumbleboom! All the servants are helping to fight the fire. They won’t listen to any orders from anybody,” said the two black jees, trembling so much that they looked like four black jees trying to dodge each other.

  “Not even my orders they won’t obey?” shouted Bumbleboom, quite red again. The two black jees now looked like one hazy black jee they trembled so much.

  “Oh, l-l-lord and m-m-master!” they stammered. “Oh, L-L-Lord Bumbleboom! The servants are all grumbling and s-s-saying things against you.”

  “Saying things against me?” roared Bumbleboom. “What’s that you’re saying, you sons of dirt and black wax!”

  “It’s insubordination,” said Lolopo.

  The two black jees were so scared now that they trembled backwards out of the cave and fell over the edge. And they were so weak from fright that they could not fly. They just dropped straight down into the leaves below the orchid and died—and a black spider grabbed them and pulled them into its nest.

  Bumbleboom began to stagger about the cave in his rage.

  “What ill luck is this that has come upon me!” he groaned. “My riches are going from me, and my servants are saying things against me. They won’t even obey my orders. Oh, why should this have happened to me? Why?”