Files, however, proved a different sort. The more difficulties he encountered the more cheerful he became, and the sighs of the officers were answered by the merry whistle of the Private. His pleasant disposition did much to encourage Queen Ann and before long she consulted the Private Soldier more often than she did his superiors.
It was on the third day of their pilgrimage that they encountered their first adventure. Toward evening the sky was suddenly darkened and Major Nails exclaimed:
“A fog is coming toward us.”
“I do not think it is a fog,” replied Files, looking with interest at the approaching cloud. “It seems to me more like the breath of a Rak.”
“What is a Rak?” asked Ann, looking about fearfully.
“A terrible beast with a horrible appetite,” answered the soldier, growing a little paler than usual. “I have never seen a Rak, to be sure, but I have read of them in the story-books that grew in my orchard, and if this is indeed one of those fearful monsters, we are not likely to conquer the world.”
Hearing this, the officers became quite worried and gathered closer about their soldier.
“What is the thing like?” asked one.
“The only picture of a Rak that I ever saw in a book was rather blurred,” said Files, “because the book was not quite ripe when it was picked. But the creature can fly in the air and run like a deer and swim like a fish. Inside its body is a glowing furnace of fire, and the Rak breathes in air and breathes out smoke, which darkens the sky for miles around, wherever it goes. It is bigger than a hundred men and feeds on any living thing.”
The officers now began to groan and to tremble, but Files tried to cheer them, saying:
“It may not be a Rak, after all, that we see approaching us, and you must not forget that we people of Oogaboo, which is part of the fairyland of Oz, cannot be killed.”
“Nevertheless,” said Captain Buttons, “if the Rak catches us, and chews us up into small pieces, and swallows us — what will happen then?”
“Then each small piece will still be alive,” declared Files.
“I cannot see how that would help us,” wailed Colonel Banjo. “A hamburger steak is a hamburger steak, whether it is alive or not!”
“I tell you, this may not be a Rak,” persisted Files. “We will know, when the cloud gets nearer, whether it is the breath of a Rak or not. If it has no smell at all, it is probably a fog; but if it has an odor of salt and pepper, it is a Rak and we must prepare for a desperate fight.”
They all eyed the dark cloud fearfully. Before long it reached the frightened group and began to envelop them. Every nose sniffed the cloud — and every one detected in it the odor of salt and pepper.
“The Rak!” shouted Private Files, and with a howl of despair the sixteen officers fell to the ground, writhing and moaning in anguish. Queen Ann sat down upon a rock and faced the cloud more bravely, although her heart was beating fast. As for Files, he calmly loaded his gun and stood ready to fight the foe, as a soldier should.
They were now in absolute darkness, for the cloud which covered the sky and the setting sun was black as ink. Then through the gloom appeared two round, glowing balls of red, and Files at once decided these must be the monster’s eyes.
He raised his gun, took aim and fired.
There were several bullets in the gun, all gathered from an excellent bullet-tree in Oogaboo, and they were big and hard. They flew toward the monster and struck it, and with a wild, weird cry the Rak came fluttering down and its huge body fell plump upon the forms of the sixteen officers, who thereupon screamed louder than before.
“Badness me!” moaned the Rak. “See what you’ve done with that dangerous gun of yours!”
“I can’t see,” replied Files, “for the cloud formed by your breath darkens my sight!”
“Don’t tell me it was an accident,” continued the Rak, reproachfully, as it still flapped its wings in a helpless manner. “Don’t claim you didn’t know the gun was loaded, I beg of you!”
“I don’t intend to,” replied Files. “Did the bullets hurt you very badly?”
“One has broken my jaw, so that I can’t open my mouth. You will notice that my voice sounds rather harsh and husky, because I have to talk with my teeth set close together. Another bullet broke my left wing, so that I can’t fly; and still another broke my right leg, so that I can’t walk. It was the most careless shot I ever heard of!”
“Can’t you manage to lift your body off from my commanding officers?” inquired Files. “From their cries I’m afraid your great weight is crushing them.”
“I hope it is,” growled the Rak. “I want to crush them, if possible, for I have a bad disposition. If only I could open my mouth, I’d eat all of you, although my appetite is poorly this warm weather.”
With this the Rak began to roll its immense body sidewise, so as to crush the officers more easily; but in doing this it rolled completely off from them and the entire sixteen scrambled to their feet and made off as fast as they could run.
Private Files could not see them go but he knew from the sound of their voices that they had escaped, so he ceased to worry about them.
“Pardon me if I now bid you good-bye,” he said to the Rak. “The parting is caused by our desire to continue our journey. If you die, do not blame me, for I was obliged to shoot you as a matter of self-protection.”
“I shall not die,” answered the monster, “for I bear a charmed life. But I beg you not to leave me!”
“Why not?” asked Files.
“Because my broken jaw will heal in about an hour, and then I shall be able to eat you. My wing will heal in a day and my leg will heal in a week, when I shall be as well as ever. Having shot me, and so caused me all this annoyance, it is only fair and just that you remain here and allow me to eat you as soon as I can open my jaws.”
“I beg to differ with you,” returned the soldier firmly. “I have made an engagement with Queen Ann of Oogaboo to help her conquer the world, and I cannot break my word for the sake of being eaten by a Rak.”
“Oh; that’s different,” said the monster. “If you’ve an engagement, don’t let me detain you.”
So Files felt around in the dark and grasped the hand of the trembling Queen, whom he led away from the flapping, sighing Rak. They stumbled over the stones for a way but presently began to see dimly the path ahead of them, as they got farther and farther away from the dreadful spot where the wounded monster lay. By and by they reached a little hill and could see the last rays of the sun flooding a pretty valley beyond, for now they had passed beyond the cloudy breath of the Rak. Here were huddled the sixteen officers, still frightened and panting from their run. They had halted only because it was impossible for them to run any farther.
Queen Ann gave them a severe scolding for their cowardice, at the same time praising Files for his courage.
“We are wiser than he, however,” muttered General Clock, “for by running away we are now able to assist Your Majesty in conquering the world; whereas, had Files been eaten by the Rak, he would have deserted your Army.”
After a brief rest they descended into the valley, and as soon as they were out of sight of the Rak the spirits of the entire party rose quickly. Just at dusk they came to a brook, on the banks of which Queen Ann commanded them to make camp for the night.
Each officer carried in his pocket a tiny white tent. This, when placed upon the ground, quickly grew in size until it was large enough to permit the owner to enter it and sleep within its canvas walls. Files was obliged to carry a knapsack, in which was not only his own tent but an elaborate pavilion for Queen Ann, besides a bed and chair and a magic table. This table, when set upon the ground in Ann’s pavilion, became of large size, and in a drawer of the table was contained the Queen’s supply of extra clothing, her manicure and toilet articles and other necessary things. The royal bed was the only one in the camp, the officers and private sleeping in hammocks attached to their tent poles.
Ther
e was also in the knapsack a flag bearing the royal emblem of Oogaboo, and this flag Files flew upon its staff every night, to show that the country they were in had been conquered by the Queen of Oogaboo. So far, no one but themselves had seen the flag, but Ann was pleased to see it flutter in the breeze and considered herself already a famous conqueror.
Chapter Four
Betsy Braves the Billows
The waves dashed and the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled and the ship struck a rock. Betsy Bobbin was running across the deck and the shock sent her flying through the air until she fell with a splash into the dark blue water. The same shock caught Hank, a thin little, sad-faced mule, and tumbled him also into the sea, far from the ship’s side.
When Betsy came up, gasping for breath because the wet plunge had surprised her, she reached out in the dark and grabbed a bunch of hair. At first she thought it was the end of a rope, but presently she heard a dismal “Hee-haw!” and knew she was holding fast to the end of Hank’s tail.
Suddenly the sea was lighted up by a vivid glare. The ship, now in the far distance, caught fire, blew up and sank beneath the waves.
Betsy shuddered at the sight, but just then her eye caught a mass of wreckage floating near her and she let go the mule’s tail and seized the rude raft, pulling herself up so that she rode upon it in safety. Hank also saw the raft and swam to it, but he was so clumsy he never would have been able to climb upon it had not Betsy helped him to get aboard.
They had to crowd close together, for their support was only a hatch-cover torn from the ship’s deck; but it floated them fairly well and both the girl and the mule knew it would keep them from drowning.
The storm was not over, by any means, when the ship went down. Blinding bolts of lightning shot from cloud to cloud and the clamor of deep thunderclaps echoed far over the sea. The waves tossed the little raft here and there as a child tosses a rubber ball and Betsy had a solemn feeling that for hundreds of watery miles in every direction there was no living thing besides herself and the small donkey.
Perhaps Hank had the same thought, for he gently rubbed his nose against the frightened girl and said “Hee-haw!” in his softest voice, as if to comfort her.
“You’ll protect me, Hank dear, won’t you?” she cried helplessly, and the mule said “Hee-haw!” again, in tones that meant a promise.
On board the ship, during the days that preceded the wreck, when the sea was calm, Betsy and Hank had become good friends; so, while the girl might have preferred a more powerful protector in this dreadful emergency, she felt that the mule would do all in a mule’s power to guard her safety.
All night they floated, and when the storm had worn itself out and passed away with a few distant growls, and the waves had grown smaller and easier to ride, Betsy stretched herself out on the wet raft and fell asleep.
Hank did not sleep a wink. Perhaps he felt it his duty to guard Betsy. Anyhow, he crouched on the raft beside the tired sleeping girl and watched patiently until the first light of dawn swept over the sea.
The light wakened Betsy Bobbin. She sat up, rubbed her eyes and stared across the water.
“Oh, Hank; there’s land ahead!” she exclaimed.
“Hee-haw!” answered Hank in his plaintive voice.
The raft was floating swiftly toward a very beautiful country and as they drew near Betsy could see banks of lovely flowers showing brightly between leafy trees. But no people were to be seen at all.
Chapter Five
The Roses Repulse the Refugees
Gently the raft grated on the sandy beach. Then Betsy easily waded ashore, the mule following closely behind her. The sun was now shining and the air was warm and laden with the fragrance of roses.
“I’d like some breakfast, Hank,” remarked the girl, feeling more cheerful now that she was on dry land; “but we can’t eat the flowers, although they do smell mighty good.”
“Hee-haw!” replied Hank and trotted up a little pathway to the top of the bank.
Betsy followed and from the eminence looked around her. A little way off stood a splendid big greenhouse, its thousands of crystal panes glittering in the sunlight.
“There ought to be people somewhere ‘round,” observed Betsy thoughtfully; “gardeners, or somebody. Let’s go and see, Hank. I’m getting hungrier ev’ry minute.”
So they walked toward the great greenhouse and came to its entrance without meeting with anyone at all. A door stood ajar, so Hank went in first, thinking if there was any danger he could back out and warn his companion. But Betsy was close at his heels and the moment she entered was lost in amazement at the wonderful sight she saw.
The greenhouse was filled with magnificent rosebushes, all growing in big pots. On the central stem of each bush bloomed a splendid Rose, gorgeously colored and deliciously fragrant, and in the center of each Rose was the face of a lovely girl.
As Betsy and Hank entered, the heads of the Roses were drooping and their eyelids were closed in slumber; but the mule was so amazed that he uttered a loud “Hee-haw!” and at the sound of his harsh voice the rose leaves fluttered, the Roses raised their heads and a hundred startled eyes were instantly fixed upon the intruders.
“I — I beg your pardon!” stammered Betsy, blushing and confused.
“O-o-o-h!” cried the Roses, in a sort of sighing chorus; and one of them added: “What a horrid noise!”
“Why, that was only Hank,” said Betsy, and as if to prove the truth of her words the mule uttered another loud “Hee-haw!”
At this all the Roses turned on their stems as far as they were able and trembled as if some one were shaking their bushes. A dainty Moss Rose gasped: “Dear me! How dreadfully dreadful!”
“It isn’t dreadful at all,” said Betsy, somewhat indignant. “When you get used to Hank’s voice it will put you to sleep.”
The Roses now looked at the mule less fearfully and one of them asked:
“Is that savage beast named Hank?”
“Yes; Hank’s my comrade, faithful and true,” answered the girl, twining her arms around the little mule’s neck and hugging him tight. “Aren’t you, Hank?”
Hank could only say in reply: “Hee-haw!” and at his bray the Roses shivered again.
“Please go away!” begged one. “Can’t you see you’re frightening us out of a week’s growth?”
“Go away!” echoed Betsy. “Why, we’ve no place to go. We’ve just been wrecked.”
“Wrecked?” asked the Roses in a surprised chorus.
“Yes; we were on a big ship and the storm came and wrecked it,” explained the girl. “But Hank and I caught hold of a raft and floated ashore to this place, and — we’re tired and hungry. What country is this, please?”
“This is the Rose Kingdom,” replied the Moss Rose, haughtily, “and it is devoted to the culture of the rarest and fairest Roses grown.”
“I believe it,” said Betsy, admiring the pretty blossoms.
“But only Roses are allowed here,” continued a delicate Tea Rose, bending her brows in a frown; “therefore you must go away before the Royal Gardener finds you and casts you back into the sea.”
“Oh! Is there a Royal Gardener, then?” inquired Betsy.
“To be sure.”
“And is he a Rose, also?”
“Of course not; he’s a man — a wonderful man,” was the reply.
“Well, I’m not afraid of a man,” declared the girl, much relieved, and even as she spoke the Royal Gardener popped into the greenhouse — a spading fork in one hand and a watering pot in the other.
He was a funny little man, dressed in a rose-colored costume, with ribbons at his knees and elbows, and a bunch of ribbons in his hair. His eyes were small and twinkling, his nose sharp and his face puckered and deeply lined.
“O-ho!” he exclaimed, astonished to find strangers in his greenhouse, and when Hank gave a loud bray the Gardener threw the watering pot over the mule’s head and danced around with his fork, in such agitation that pre
sently he fell over the handle of the implement and sprawled at full length upon the ground.
Betsy laughed and pulled the watering pot off from Hank’s head. The little mule was angry at the treatment he had received and backed toward the Gardener threateningly.
“Look out for his heels!” called Betsy warningly and the Gardener scrambled to his feet and hastily hid behind the Roses.
“You are breaking the Law!” he shouted, sticking out his head to glare at the girl and the mule.
“What Law?” asked Betsy.
“The Law of the Rose Kingdom. No strangers are allowed in these domains.”
“Not when they’re shipwrecked?” she inquired.
“The Law doesn’t except shipwrecks,” replied the Royal Gardener, and he was about to say more when suddenly there was a crash of glass and a man came tumbling through the roof of the greenhouse and fell plump to the ground.
Chapter Six
Shaggy Seeks his Stray Brother
This sudden arrival was a queer looking man, dressed all in garments so shaggy that Betsy at first thought he must be some animal. But the stranger ended his fall in a sitting position and then the girl saw it was really a man. He held an apple in his hand, which he had evidently been eating when he fell, and so little was he jarred or flustered by the accident that he continued to munch this apple as he calmly looked around him.
“Good gracious!” exclaimed Betsy, approaching him. “Who are you, and where did you come from?”
“Me? Oh, I’m Shaggy Man,” said he, taking another bite of the apple. “Just dropped in for a short call. Excuse my seeming haste.”
“Why, I s’pose you couldn’t help the haste,” said Betsy.
“No. I climbed an apple tree, outside; branch gave way and — here I am.”
As he spoke the Shaggy Man finished his apple, gave the core to Hank — who ate it greedily — and then stood up to bow politely to Betsy and the Roses.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 105
