L. Frank Baum - Oz 25

by Pirates In Oz

  “Come to the conjurer’s cave.”

  “I’ll smash that Cuckoo some day,” fumed the gnome, tearing the paper into about a thousand pieces. Then, because he was afraid to remain behind and risk his life with the pirates, he stamped sulkily after the Wise Man of Menankypoo, stealing anxious glances over his shoulder now and then to make sure no one was following him. As soon as they were inside the cave, Clocker walked stiffly to one of the chests Ruggedo had tried to open and tapped three times on the lid. It raised up instantly, and leaning down Clocker pulled out a soft green hood and a heavy ebony stick. Clapping the hood on the gnome’s head, he drew off and struck him a staggering blow on the chin. Ruggedo never budged nor winced. In fact he did not feel the blow at all and the ugly scowl he had been wearing all morning melted away as if by magic. Dragging off the hood he examined it carefully all over. Embroidered in the lining he found the word “Hardy-hood.”

  “Hardy-hood!” exulted the gnome. “Ha, ha! Now let them try any more of their nonsense. You are a good fellow, Clocker, and a smart one, too. What else have you there?” Darting toward the Wise Man Ruggedo was caught midway and held rigid. Clocker had raised the ebony stick and he smiled calmly and provokingly at the gnome’s frightful cries and ‘faces. As long as the Wise Man held the stick up Ruggedo found it impossible to move, but as soon as it touched the floor the spell was broken.

  What is it? Let me have it! ‘let me have it! I’ll show those pesky pirates who’s who and what’s what!” cried the old elf vindictively. Clocker struck and thrust the stick into Ruggedo’s hand at the same time and the cuckoo’s yellow paper told all about the conjurer’s curious treasures.

  “The wearer of the Hardy-hood cannot be hurt or injured,” it stated calmly. “The holder of the Standing-stick can make anyone stand ‘round. It is one of the most powerful inventions of Cinderbutton, the witch. Go back and try it on the pirates.”

  “Why, how perfectly mellifluous!” Ruggedo rapturously hugged the ebony stick to his skinny little chest. “And how it will help us when we reach the Emerald City! You shall be well rewarded for this, my good Clocker. You shall have half the kingdom and the Patchwork Girl for a slave.” Clocker, who meant to have the whole kingdom, nodded solemnly at Ruggedo and winked roguishly at himself in the mirror. Then, both conspirators wrapped themselves in the conjurer’s cape and flew up the chimney.

  When Peggo, stretched with the other pirates comfortably under the trees in the garden; saw Ruggedo and the Cuckoo Clock Man striding toward them, he raised up inquiringly on one elbow. But when the Gnome King in a loud voice again commanded the pirates to rise and march to the beach, Peggo jumped to his feet with a bellow of anger and gave the gnome a buffet that would have staggered

  an elephant. The astonishment of the pirates when it neither budged nor jarred their tiny chieftain can well be imagined. As Binx the Bad and the fifty-eight other buccaneers rushed to help Peggo, the gnome lifted the Standing-stick and not only brought them to a standstill, but rendered them as harmless as wooden soldiers. Then in a speech that sent Clocker into soundless gales of merriment, Ruggedo spoke his mind and issued his orders. The pirates were not only to obey him in every way, to march, drill and prepare for war with Oz, but they were also to address him at all times as Ruggedo the Rough, King of the Gnomes, Monarch of Menankypoo, Chief of the Band, Captain of the Sea Lion and Emperor of Oz!

  “Understand?” roared Ruggedo in a ferocious voice. Understand? Now then, who am I?”

  “Ruggedo the Rough, King of the Gnomes, Monarch of Menankypoo, Chief of the Band, Captain of the Sea Lion and Emperor of Oz!” repeated the helpless and mortified sea robbers mournfully.

  “Very well.” Nodding grimly, Ruggedo, who, it must be confessed, knew kinging from the ground up, dropped the magic stick. “Fall in! Forward march!” For two hours the fierce and determined little gnome drilled his sulky and unwilling army, and he would not have stopped then had not a sudden cry from Binx called his attention to a strange vessel anchoring in the bay.

  “Yo, ho! Yo, ho!” yelled Binx, forgetting all about Ruggedo for the moment. “A boat, mates! A prize! Back to the Sea Lion and give her the guns!”

  “Halt!” cried Ruggedo, as the pirates made a dash for their small boats. “Halt! And don’t forget I’m captain here. There’ll be no gun work unless I call for it.”

  “Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!” mocked the yellow bird, darting out of Clocker’s head, for it was exactly three o’clock. And while the pirates, muttering and glowering, fell back in line, Ruggedo calmly read the Wise Man’s message.

  “Enlist these newcomers in your army by trick or stick,” advised Clocker, “and afterward we will steal their ship and treasure.” Ruggedo nodded and thrust the paper in his pocket. Then, handing the ebony stick to the Wise Man, he motioned for him to keep the pirates in order while he went down to confer with the captain of the strange boat, who was already stepping ashore. The pirate ship, which might have’ frightened the visitors away, was hidden behind a jutting cliff.

  “Salutations and greetings!” began the stranger, as Ruggedo, looking as tall and impressive as a four foot sovereign well could, advanced to meet him. “Seeing your harbor lights from afar, and feeling they must mark a friendly country, we have anchored here to ask your advice and counsel. We are colonists from the Octagon Isle, anxious to settle in a new and progressive kingdom and serve a King who is ambitious and clever, who will forward our interests by battle and conquest and give us an opportunity to show our own bravery and skill. Does your Excellency know of such a King or country?” Somewhat out of breath, Sixentwo, who had taken upon himself the position of captain of the Octopus and leader of the rebels, paused and looked earnestly at the strange figure before him.

  “Go no farther!” cried Ruggedo, raising his arm impressively. “This is the country you seek, and I, its present ruler, am at this very moment preparing for war with the mighty Kingdom of Oz! Settle here!” urged Ruggedo eagerly. “Join my army and when we have conquered Oz and divided its treasure you shall have this Kingdom of Menankypoo for your own.”

  “Huzzah! Hurrah!” shouted the Octagon Islanders, throwing up their caps and bundles. “Eighty-eight cheers for Menankypoo and its bold little King.”

  “Here is a ruler worth having,” cried Sevenanone boisterously, “not an old sleepy-head like Ato.” Ruggedo, well pleased and well satisfied with the result of his speech, bowed and smiled with gratification as the Octagon Islanders continued to cheer and applaud. Then, after Sixentwo had formally accepted his offer, he invited them to make themselves at home in the cottages of his former subjects. The pirates had lodged in the castle, so the eight fishermen, the eight shopkeepers, the eight soldiers, the eight sailors, the eight artists and scholars, the eight counsellors, the eight courtiers, the eight servitors, the eight musicians and the eight farmers, with their wives and their children; hastily moved their belongings from the ship to the city of Menankypoo. Some of the women remarked among themselves on the puny size and extreme ugliness of their new ruler and agreed that Ato was a much more kindly and important figure, and Octagon Isle much pleasanter and more home-like than Menankypoo.

  But the men paid no attention to them and dumping down their belongings unceremoniously rushed out to drill under the’ capable direction of Ruggedo the Rough.

  Not wishing to frighten his new recruits, the gnome had sent the pirates and Clocker back to the castle. The Wise Man could easily keep them in order with the standing stick and they were too worn out from drilling to start any serious rebellion.

  If the Octagon Islanders grew troublesome he would use the stick on them, too. As long as they did what he wanted, well and good. “With this company of fighters I can start for the Emerald City any day, and Clocker has found a way to cross the desert so everything will be mellifluous and grand!”

  With his wrinkled little face wreathed in smiles, the vain and ambitious little midget turned to the drilling and training of good King Ato’s former subjec
ts.

  CHAPTER 11

  The No Bodies

  NO land had been sighted for two days but Peter found it vastly exciting skimming over the mountainous green waves of the Nonestic Ocean. There was enough to do with the sails alone to keep four or five able-bodied seamen busy, and all on board the pirate’s ship worked as they had never worked before. But not for anything in the world or Oz would Peter have traded his position as cabin boy and mate on the Crescent Moon. Sometimes, when the sea was calm and everything shipshape, Roger would read them stories from Ato’s books or the volumes they had brought from Shell City. Sometimes Samuel Salt would tell of his many strange voyages or Peter would relate his adventures in

  Oz.

  “It was on this very ocean that I first met the Gnome King,” mused Peter, as he and Samuel were mending a sail one morning. “He was on a rocky island and I was dropped there by a balloon bird. Then there was a sea-quake and we got off the island on an old pirate ship that was thrown up from the bottom of the sea. Did you ever know Polacky, Samuel?” Samuel Salt shook his head thoughtfully.

  “Well, anyway,” went on Peter, “it was his ship, but it was pretty well done for, so we just

  drifted till we came to Ev. Then with a magic cloak of invisibility that we found on the ship, Rug flew to the Emerald City and stole back his magic belt. I followed him as quickly as I could and just as he was sending Ozma and everybody to the bottom of the Nonestic Ocean, I was lucky enough to hit him with a silence stone I had found on the pirate ship. So of course he couldn’t say another word. The Wizard made him visible and that was that! Wonder what he’s doing now? Boy, he was a bad one!”

  “What happened the next time you came to Oz?” inquired Ato, who was sitting on a pile of life preservers, shelling peas.

  “Oh, last time I met Jack Pumpkinhead and an Iffin and we flew over the whole country on its back and captured the Baron of Baffleburg,” explained Peter carelessly. “And, man! what do you think I found? A magic dinner bell. All you had to do was ring it and a slave would bring you a tray full of wonderful food”

  “That would be a right handy thing to have on a voyage,” sighed ato, wiping his royal brow on the sleeve of his ragged shirt. “we’ve about done with the stuff we brought from shell city, Samuel, and there’s nothing for dinner but wilted peas and bad peaches.”

  “Sounds all right to me,” said Samuel Salt, looking cross-eyed as he threaded his needle. “Anyway, we’ll be heading in somewhere soon. Ahoy, Roger! Anything ahead?” Roger, who for the present was steersman, shook his head without looking around.

  “Water, water everywhere, and not a sign of land, Oh, for a teas, oh for a teas, a teaspoonful

  of sand!”

  croaked the Read Bird gloomily. Though used to flying, Roger had suffered untold inconveniences from the rocking of the Crescent Moon and was wistfully looking for an island.

  “Bird!” yawned Samuel Salt, stretching his arms luxuriously up over his head, “bird, you’re

  bilious!”

  “Buffalo Billious!” teased Peter, winking at the King. “Are we heading for Ev, Skipper, or straight out to sea?”

  “Well,” admitted Samuel, “I figured that my men would be likelv to stick to the open sea and Ato’s subjects would make for the mainland. So first we’ll cruise around and try to pick up my ship and then we’ll head in for shore and find his.”

  “I don’t believe his subjects would know him now,” observed Peter, looking enviously at the King’s long beard. “Gee, I wish I could grow whiskers.”

  “Nonsense!” grumbled Ato, getting heavily to his feet. “You can grow whiskers when you’re too old to do anything else. I’d trade my beard for your nimble legs any day in the week. But say, do I really look different, Samuel?”

  “Hah! Hoh!” roared the pirate, his eyes travelling from the sunburned, whiskered face of the King to the shabby toes of an old pair of sea boots the cook had found in a chest. “Not only different but better! Your own grandmother wouldn’t know you, Ato.”

  “And you’re different, too,” crowed Peter, pointing mischievously at Samuel Salt. “And when you spring on your men all that new language we’ve been practicing they’ll step pretty lively, or I’m a tin

  soldier.”

  “Do you really think so, Pete?” The pirate, who had been faithfully practicing his rough, bluff and relentless role, blushed with pleasure. “What was that last bit we decided on?” he mused meditatively. “Avast and Belay!” Peter reminded him delightedly. “Avast and belay, or I’ll shatter your hull! To larboard and starboard with lubbers!”

  “That’s it! That’s it!” beamed the pirate, Slapping his knee. “I remember now, and won’t that bring them into the wind, though? Hah! Now let’s think up something real stiff for Ato to try on his subjects. Come on, King, we’re going to practice!”

  “Stop!” coughed the Read Bird, holding up his claw.

  “Stop what?” demanded Peter indignantly.

  “Practicing!” sniffed Roger. “Stop practicing and be ready to act. There’s something abaft our

  beam.”

  “Is it a ship?” cried Peter dashing over to the rail. “Is it the Sea Lion?”

  “All I see lyin’ there is an island,” answered Roger in a bored voice. “Take the wheel, Master Salt, and I’ll fly aloft and look her over.”

  “Why, here’s a potato bug on my sleeve!” yelled Ato, in such excitement that he spilled half the peas. “‘Heigh ho! Where there’s a potato bug there must be potatoes.”

  “Might as well say that where there’s a lady bug there’s bound to be a lady,” observed Samuel, taking the wheel with one hand and drawing out his binoculars with the other. “Not much of a place, mates, from what I can see. Why, it’s just no place at all! But we’ll go ashore anyway and give Roger a rest and see whether we can pick up some potatoes and duck eggs for the cook.”

  “I’m going to take a sack in case there should be any treasure,” decided Peter, as the Crescent Moon bore down on a long, heavily wooded slice of land. “And I’ll bring a basket in case there should be any potatoes,” puffed Ato, hurrying off to the galley. “And I’ll take a box for specimens,” said Samuel Salt, his eyes beginning to sparkle with interest and curiosity.

  “Don’t forget your gun. Don’t forget you’re a pirate,” rasped Roger darkly. “Looks like a cannibal island to me and we may have a fight on our hands.” Tucking Maxims for Monarchs under his wing to drop on Samuel’s head in an emergency, the Read Bird, without waiting for his mates, flew ashore.

  No castle nor dwellings of any kind were visible When the jollyboat landed. Indeed, the island seemed utterly deserted and uninhabited. Making their way with difficulty through the tangled wood, and keeping a careful lookout for snakes and wild animals, the landing party pushed eagerly forward and finally came to a narrow footpath.

  “Where there are paths there must be people,” panted Ato, changing the basket from one hand to the other and trudging along determinedly. “Now I do hope they’ll have some flour, sugar and civilized food, some butter, eggs and potatoes. I’m minded to try some of those recipes Roger’s been reading me.”

  “Pshaw, I don’t believe this path leads anywhere,” complained Peter after they had followed its windings for nearly an hour. “We’re just getting nowhere at all.”

  “Right!” called the pirate, who was a little ahead of the others. “Look here, my lad.” Hurrying forward, Peter saw a crooked sign nailed so low on the trunk of a tree that he had to bend almost double to read it.

  THIS PATH LEADS NOWHERE,

  stated the sign defiantly.

  “In that case we might as well go straight back to the boat,” groaned Roger, settling in the branches of a tree. “Who wants to go Nowhere?”

  “But somebody must have put up this sign,” reasoned Samuel Salt, thoughtfully clipping off the tops of some weeds with his scimitar. “Let’s go on. It’s not far to the other side of the island and we may pick up some wild fruit
or game.” Deciding that this was the only sensible procedure, the four started on and in less than ten minutes had come not only to the end of the path that led Nowhere but to Nowhere

  itself.

  “Well, shiver my liver!” blustered Samuel, pushing back his red headkerchief. “Here we are!”

  “So!” sniffed Roger, elevating his bill scornfully. “So this is Nowhere, is it? Well, I’ve often wondered where it was and now I know. Nowhere! Huh!” With a tired flop Roger settled on Ato’s shoulder and one could not blame the Read Bird for his lack of enthusiasm. Nowhere was but a grim, barren clearing in the woods. A long, low, roughly thatched cottage stood in the middle of Nowhere and from a short flag pole fluttered a brown banner emblazoned with three words:

  NOWHERE AT ALL.