Rinkitink now took his seat in the silver-lined craft and the boy came last, pushing off the boat as he sprang aboard, so that it floated freely upon the water.
“Well, here we go for Gilgad!” exclaimed the King, picking up the oars and placing them in the row-locks. Then he began to row as hard as he could, singing at the same time an odd sort of a song that ran like this:
“The way to Gilgad isn’t bad
For a stout old King and a brave young lad,
For a cross old goat with a dripping coat,
And a silver boat in which to float.
So our hearts are merry, light and glad
As we speed away to fair Gilgad!”
“Don’t, Rinkitink; please don’t! It makes me seasick,” growled Bilbil.
Rinkitink stopped rowing, for by this time he was all out of breath and his round face was covered with big drops of perspiration. And when he looked over his shoulder he found to his dismay that the boat had scarcely moved a foot from its former position.
Inga said nothing and appeared not to notice the King’s failure. So now Rinkitink, with a serious look on his fat, red face, took off his purple robe and rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and tried again.
However, he succeeded no better than before and when he heard Bilbil give a gruff laugh and saw a smile upon the boy Prince’s face, Rinkitink suddenly dropped the oars and began shouting with laughter at his own defeat. As he wiped his brow with a yellow silk handkerchief he sang in a merry voice:
“A sailor bold am I, I hold,
But boldness will not row a boat.
So I confess I’m in distress
And just as useless as the goat.”
“Please leave me out of your verses,” said Bilbil with a snort of anger.
“When I make a fool of myself, Bilbil, I’m a goat,” replied Rinkitink.
“Not so,” insisted Bilbil. “Nothing could make you a member of my superior race.”
“Superior? Why, Bilbil, a goat is but a beast, while I am a King!”
“I claim that superiority lies in intelligence,” said the goat.
Rinkitink paid no attention to this remark, but turning to Inga he said:
“We may as well get back to the shore, for the boat is too heavy to row to Gilgad or anywhere else. Indeed, it will be hard for us to reach land again.”
“Let me take the oars,” suggested Inga. “You must not forget our bargain.”
“No, indeed,” answered Rinkitink. “If you can row us to Regos, or to any other place, I will go with you without protest.”
So the King took Inga’s place in the stern of the boat and the boy grasped the oars and commenced to row. And now, to the great wonder of Rinkitink — and even to Inga’s surprise — the oars became light as feathers as soon as the Prince took hold of them. In an instant the boat began to glide rapidly through the water and, seeing this, the boy turned its prow toward the north. He did not know exactly where Regos and Coregos were located, but he did know that the islands lay to the north of Pingaree, so he decided to trust to luck and the guidance of the pearls to carry him to them.
Gradually the Island of Pingaree became smaller to their view as the boat sped onward, until at the end of an hour they had lost sight of it altogether and were wholly surrounded by the purple waters of the Nonestic Ocean.
Prince Inga did not tire from the labor of rowing; indeed, it seemed to him no labor at all. Once he stopped long enough to place the poles of the canopy in the holes that had been made for them, in the edges of the boat, and to spread the canopy of silver over the poles, for Rinkitink had complained of the sun’s heat. But the canopy shut out the hot rays and rendered the interior of the boat cool and pleasant.
“This is a glorious ride!” cried Rinkitink, as he lay back in the shade. “I find it a decided relief to be away from that dismal island of Pingaree.”
“It may be a relief for a short time,” said Bilbil, “but you are going to the land of your enemies, who will probably stick your fat body full of spears and arrows.”
“Oh, I hope not!” exclaimed Inga, distressed at the thought.
“Never mind,” said the King calmly, “a man can die but once, you know, and when the enemy kills me I shall beg him to kill Bilbil, also, that we may remain together in death as in life.”
“They may be cannibals, in which case they will roast and eat us,” suggested Bilbil, who wished to terrify his master.
“Who knows?” answered Rinkitink, with a shudder. “But cheer up, Bilbil; they may not kill us after all, or even capture us; so let us not borrow trouble. Do not look so cross, my sprightly quadruped, and I will sing to amuse you.”
“Your song would make me more cross than ever,” grumbled the goat.
“Quite impossible, dear Bilbil. You couldn’t be more surly if you tried. So here is a famous song for you.”
While the boy rowed steadily on and the boat rushed fast over the water, the jolly King, who never could be sad or serious for many minutes at a time, lay back on his embroidered cushions and sang as follows:
“A merry maiden went to sea —
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
She sat upon the Captain’s knee
And looked around the sea to see
What she could see, but she couldn’t see me —
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!”
“How do you like that, Bilbil?”
“I don’t like it,” complained the goat. “It reminds me of the alligator that tried to whistle.”
“Did he succeed, Bilbil?” asked the King.
“He whistled as well as you sing.”
“Ha, ha, ha, ha, heek, keek, eek!” chuckled the King. “He must have whistled most exquisitely, eh, my friend?”
“I am not your friend,” returned the goat, wagging his ears in a surly manner.
“I am yours, however,” was the King’s cheery reply; “and to prove it I’ll sing you another verse.”
“Don’t, I beg of you!”
But the King sang as follows:
“The wind blew off the maiden’s shoe —
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
And the shoe flew high to the sky so blue
And the maiden knew ‘twas a new shoe, too;
But she couldn’t pursue the shoe, ‘tis true —
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!”
“Isn’t that sweet, my pretty goat?”
“Sweet, do you ask?” retorted Bilbil. “I consider it as sweet as candy made from mustard and vinegar.”
“But not as sweet as your disposition, I admit. Ah, Bilbil, your temper would put honey itself to shame.”
“Do not quarrel, I beg of you,” pleaded Inga. “Are we not sad enough already?”
“But this is a jolly quarrel,” said the King, “and it is the way Bilbil and I often amuse ourselves. Listen, now, to the last verse of all:
The maid who shied her shoe now cried —
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
Her tears were fried for the Captain’s bride
Who ate with pride her sobs, beside,
And gently sighed ‘I’m satisfied’ —
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!”
“Worse and worse!” grumbled Bilbil, with much scorn. “I am glad that is the last verse, for another of the same kind might cause me to faint.”
“I fear you have no ear for music,” said the King.
“I have heard no music, as yet,” declared the goat. “You must have a strong imagination, King Rinkitink, if you consider your songs music. Do you remember the story of the bear that hired out for a nursemaid?”
“I do not recall it just now,” said Rinkitink, with a wink at Inga.
“Well, the bear tried to sing a lullaby to put the baby to sleep.”
“And then?” said the King.
“The bear was highly pleased with its own voice, but the baby was nearly frightened to death.”
“Heh, heh, heh, heh, whoo, hoo, hoo! You are a merry rogue, Bilbil,”
laughed the King; “a merry rogue in spite of your gloomy features. However, if I have not amused you, I have at least pleased myself, for I am exceedingly fond of a good song. So let us say no more about it.”
All this time the boy Prince was rowing the boat. He was not in the least tired, for the oars he held seemed to move of their own accord. He paid little heed to the conversation of Rinkitink and the goat, but busied his thoughts with plans of what he should do when he reached the islands of Regos and Coregos and confronted his enemies. When the others finally became silent, Inga inquired:
“Can you fight, King Rinkitink?”
“I have never tried,” was the answer. “In time of danger I have found it much easier to run away than to face the foe.”
“But could you fight?” asked the boy.
“I might try, if there was no chance to escape by running. Have you a proper weapon for me to fight with?”
“I have no weapon at all,” confessed Inga.
“Then let us use argument and persuasion instead of fighting. For instance, if we could persuade the warriors of Regos to lie down, and let me step on them, they would be crushed with ease.”
Prince Inga had expected little support from the King, so he was not discouraged by this answer. After all, he reflected, a conquest by battle would be out of the question, yet the White Pearl would not have advised him to go to Regos and Coregos had the mission been a hopeless one. It seemed to him, on further reflection, that he must rely upon circumstances to determine his actions when he reached the islands of the barbarians.
By this time Inga felt perfect confidence in the Magic Pearls. It was the White Pearl that had given him the boat, and the Blue Pearl that had given him strength to row it. He believed that the Pink Pearl would protect him from any danger that might arise; so his anxiety was not for himself, but for his companions. King Rinkitink and the goat had no magic to protect them, so Inga resolved to do all in his power to keep them from harm.
For three days and three nights the boat with the silver lining sped swiftly over the ocean. On the morning of the fourth day, so quickly had they traveled, Inga saw before him the shores of the two great islands of Regos and Coregos.
“The pearls have guided me aright!” he whispered to himself. “Now, if I am wise, and cautious, and brave, I believe I shall be able to rescue my father and mother and my people.”
The Twin Islands
CHAPTER 7
The Island of Regos was ten miles wide and forty miles long and it was ruled by a big and powerful King named Gos. Near to the shores were green and fertile fields, but farther back from the sea were rugged hills and mountains, so rocky that nothing would grow there. But in these mountains were mines of gold and silver, which the slaves of the King were forced to work, being confined in dark underground passages for that purpose. In the course of time huge caverns had been hollowed out by the slaves, in which they lived and slept, never seeing the light of day. Cruel overseers with whips stood over these poor people, who had been captured in many countries by the raiding parties of King Gos, and the overseers were quite willing to lash the slaves with their whips if they faltered a moment in their work.
Between the green shores and the mountains were forests of thick, tangled trees, between which narrow paths had been cut to lead up to the caves of the mines. It was on the level green meadows, not far from the ocean, that the great City of Regos had been built, wherein was located the palace of the King. This city was inhabited by thousands of the fierce warriors of Gos, who frequently took to their boats and spread over the sea to the neighboring islands to conquer and pillage, as they had done at Pingaree. When they were not absent on one of these expeditions, the City of Regos swarmed with them and so became a dangerous place for any peaceful person to live in, for the warriors were as lawless as their King.
The Island of Coregos lay close beside the Island of Regos; so close, indeed, that one might have thrown a stone from one shore to another. But Coregos was only half the size of Regos and instead of being mountainous it was a rich and pleasant country, covered with fields of grain. The fields of Coregos furnished food for the warriors and citizens of both countries, while the mines of Regos made them all rich.
Coregos was ruled by Queen Cor, who was wedded to King Gos; but so stern and cruel was the nature of this Queen that the people could not decide which of their sovereigns they dreaded most.
Queen Cor lived in her own City of Coregos, which lay on that side of her island facing Regos, and her slaves, who were mostly women, were made to plow the land and to plant and harvest the grain.
From Regos to Coregos stretched a bridge of boats, set close together, with planks laid across their edges for people to walk upon. In this way it was easy to pass from one island to the other and in times of danger the bridge could be quickly removed.
The native inhabitants of Regos and Coregos consisted of the warriors, who did nothing but fight and ravage, and the trembling servants who waited on them. King Gos and Queen Cor were at war with all the rest of the world. Other islanders hated and feared them, for their slaves were badly treated and absolutely no mercy was shown to the weak or ill.
When the boats that had gone to Pingaree returned loaded with rich plunder and a host of captives, there was much rejoicing in Regos and Coregos and the King and Queen gave a fine feast to the warriors who had accomplished so great a conquest. This feast was set for the warriors in the grounds of King Gos’s palace, while with them in the great throne room all the captains and leaders of the fighting men were assembled with King Gos and Queen Cor, who had come from her island to attend the ceremony. Then all the goods that had been stolen from the King of Pingaree were divided according to rank, the King and Queen taking half, the captains a quarter, and the rest being divided amongst the warriors.
The day following the feast King Gos sent King Kitticut and all the men of Pingaree to work in his mines under the mountains, having first chained them together so they could not escape. The gentle Queen of Pingaree and all her women, together with the captured children, were given to Queen Cor, who set them to work in her grain fields.
Then the rulers and warriors of these dreadful islands thought they had done forever with Pingaree. Despoiled of all its wealth, its houses torn down, its boats captured and all its people enslaved, what likelihood was there that they might ever again hear of the desolated island? So the people of Regos and Coregos were surprised and puzzled when one morning they observed approaching their shores from the direction of the south a black boat containing a boy, a fat man and a goat. The warriors asked one another who these could be, and where they had come from? No one ever came to those islands of their own accord, that was certain.
Prince Inga guided his boat to the south end of the Island of Regos, which was the landing place nearest to the city, and when the warriors saw this action they went down to the shore to meet him, being led by a big captain named Buzzub.
“Those people surely mean us no good,” said Rinkitink uneasily to the boy. “Without doubt they intend to capture us and make us their slaves.”
“Do not fear, sir,” answered Inga, in a calm voice. “Stay quietly in the boat with Bilbil until I have spoken with these men.”
He stopped the boat a dozen feet from the shore, and standing up in his place made a grave bow to the multitude confronting him. Said the big Captain Buzzub in a gruff voice:
“Well, little one, who may you be? And how dare you come, uninvited and all alone, to the Island of Regos?”
“I am Inga, Prince of Pingaree,” returned the boy, “and I have come here to free my parents and my people, whom you have wrongfully enslaved.”
When they heard this bold speech a mighty laugh arose from the band of warriors, and when it had subsided the captain said:
“You love to jest, my baby Prince, and the joke is fairly good. But why did you willingly thrust your head into the lion’s mouth? When you were free, why did you not stay free? We did not know we had left
a single person in Pingaree! But since you managed to escape us then, it is really kind of you to come here of your own free will, to be our slave. Who is the funny fat person with you?”
“It is His Majesty, King Rinkitink, of the great City of Gilgad. He has accompanied me to see that you render full restitution for all you have stolen from Pingaree.”
“Better yet!” laughed Buzzub. “He will make a fine slave for Queen Cor, who loves to tickle fat men, and see them jump.”
King Rinkitink was filled with horror when he heard this, but the Prince answered as boldly as before, saying:
“We are not to be frightened by bluster, believe me; nor are we so weak as you imagine. We have magic powers so great and terrible that no host of warriors can possibly withstand us, and therefore I call upon you to surrender your city and your island to us, before we crush you with our mighty powers.”
The boy spoke very gravely and earnestly, but his words only aroused another shout of laughter. So while the men of Regos were laughing Inga drove the boat well up onto the sandy beach and leaped out. He also helped Rinkitink out, and when the goat had unaided sprung to the sands, the King got upon Bilbil’s back, trembling a little internally, but striving to look as brave as possible.
There was a bunch of coarse hair between the goat’s ears, and this Inga clutched firmly in his left hand. The boy knew the Pink Pearl would protect not only himself, but all whom he touched, from any harm, and as Rinkitink was astride the goat and Inga had his hand upon the animal, the three could not be injured by anything the warriors could do. But Captain Buzzub did not know this, and the little group of three seemed so weak and ridiculous that he believed their capture would be easy. So he turned to his men and with a wave of his hand said:
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 137
