Once free of the City they traversed the open country, and here they often stepped into sticky pink mud up to their ankles. Cap’n Bill’s wooden leg would often go down deep and stick fast in this mud, and at such times he would be helpless until two of the Pinkies — who were a strong people — pulled him out again.
The parrot was getting its feathers sadly draggled in the rain and the poor bird soon presented a wet and woebegone appearance.
“Soak us again —
Drown us with rain!”
it muttered in a resigned tone; and then it would turn to Trot and moan:
“The rose is red, the violet’s blue;
The Pinkies are a beastly crew!”
The country was not so trim and neatly kept near the edge, for it was evident the people did not care to go too near to the dangerous place. There was a row of thick bushes, which concealed the gulf below, and as they approached these bushes the rain abruptly ceased and the clouds began to break and drift away in the sky.
“Two of you seize the girl and throw her over,” said Tourmaline, in a calm, matter-of-fact way, “and two others must throw the boy over. It may take four, perhaps, to lift the huge and ancient man.”
“More’n that,” said Cap’n Bill, grimly. “I’m pretty sure it’ll take all o’ you, young lady, an’ the chances are you won’t do it then.”
They had halted a short distance from the bushes and now there suddenly appeared through a rift in the clouds an immense Rainbow. It was perfectly formed and glistened with a dozen or more superb tintings that were so vivid and brilliant and blended into one another so exquisitely that every one paused to gaze enraptured upon the sight.
Steadily, yet with wonderful swiftness, the end of the great bow descended until it rested upon the pink field — almost at the feet of the little party of observers. Then they saw, dancing gaily upon the arch, a score of beautiful maidens, dressed in fleecy robes of rainbow tints which fluttered around them like clouds.
“The Daughters of the Rainbow!” whispered Tourmaline, in an awed voice, and the Witch beside her nodded and said: “Fairies of the sky. What did I tell you, Tourmaline?”
Just then one of the maidens tripped lightly down the span of the arch until near the very end, leaning over to observe the group below. She was exquisitely fair, dainty as a lily and graceful as a bough swaying in the breeze.
“Why, it’s Polychrome!” exclaimed Button-Bright, in a voice of mingled wonder and delight. “Hello, Polly! Don’t you remember me?”
“Of course I remember Button-Bright,” replied the maiden, in a sweet, tinkling voice. “The last time I saw you was in the Land of Oz.”
“Oh!” cried Trot, turning to stare at the boy with big, wide-open eyes; “were you ever in the Land of Oz?”
“Yes,” he answered, still looking at the Rainbow’s Daughter; and then he said appealingly: “These people want to kill us, Polly. Can’t you help us?”
“Polly wants a cracker! — Polly wants a cracker!” screeched the parrot.
Polychrome straightened up and glanced at her sisters.
“Tell Father to call for me in an hour or two,” said she.
“There is work for me to do here, for one of my old friends is in trouble.”
With this she sprang lightly from the rainbow and stood beside Button-Bright and Trot, and scarcely had she left the splendid arch when it lifted and rose into the sky. The other end had been hidden in the clouds and now the Rainbow began to fade gradually, like mist, and the sun broke through the clouds and shot its cheering rays over the Pink Country until presently the Rainbow had vanished altogether and the only reminder of it was the lovely Polychrome standing among the wondering band of Pinkies.
“Tell me,” she said gently to the boy, “why are you here, and why do these people of the sky wish to destroy you?”
In a few hurried words Button-Bright related their adventure with the Magic Umbrella, and how the Boolooroo had stolen it and they had been obliged to escape into the Pink Country.
Polychrome listened and then turned to the Queen.
“Why have you decreed death to these innocent strangers?” she asked.
“They do not harmonize with our color scheme,” replied Tourmaline.
“That is utter nonsense,” declared Polychrome, impatiently. “You’re so dreadfully pink here that your color, which in itself is beautiful, has become tame and insipid. What you really need is some sharp contrast to enhance the charm of your country, and to keep these three people with you would be a benefit rather than an injury to you.”
At this the Pinkies looked downcast and ashamed, while only Rosalie the Witch laughed and seemed to enjoy the rebuke.
“But,” protested Tourmaline, “the Great Book of Laws says our country shall harbor none but the Pinkies.”
“Does it, indeed?” asked the Rainbow’s Daughter. “Come, let us return at once to your City and examine your Book of Laws. I am quite sure I can find in them absolute protection for these poor wanderers.”
They dared not disobey Polychrome’s request, so at once they all turned and walked back to the City. As it was still muddy underfoot the Rainbow’s Daughter took a cloak from one of the women, partly rolled it and threw it upon the ground. Then she stepped upon it and began walking forward. The cloak unrolled as she advanced, affording a constant carpet for her feet and for those of the others who followed her. So, being protected from the mud and wet, they speedily gained the City and in a short time were all gathered in the low room of Tourmaline’s palace, where the Great Book of Laws lay upon a table.
Polychrome began turning over the leaves, while the others all watched her anxiously and in silence.
“Here,” she said presently, “is a Law which reads as follows: ‘Everyone in the Pink Country is entitled to the protection of the Ruler and to a house and a good living, except only the Blueskins. If any of the natives of the Blue Country should ever break through the Fog Bank they must be driven back with sharp sticks.’ Have you read this Law, Tourmaline?”
“Yes,” said the Queen; “but how does that apply to these strangers?”
“Why, being in the Pink Country, as they surely are, and not being Blueskins, they are by this Law entitled to protection, to a home and good living. The Law does not say ‘Pinkies,’ it says any who are in the Pink Country.”
“True,” agreed Coralie, greatly pleased, and all the other Pinkies nodded their heads and repeated: “True — true!”
“The rose is red, the violet’s blue,
The law’s the thing, because it’s true!”
cried the parrot.
“I am indeed relieved to have you interpret the Law in this way,” declared Tourmaline. “I knew it was cruel to throw these poor people over the edge, but that seemed to us the only thing to be done.”
“It was cruel and unjust,” answered Polychrome, as sternly as her sweet voice could speak. “But here,” she added, for she had still continued to turn the leaves of the Great Book, “is another Law which you have also overlooked. It says: ‘The person, whether man or woman, boy or girl, living in the Pink Country who has the lightest skin, shall be the Ruler — King or Queen — as long as he or she lives, unless some one of a lighter skin is found, and this Ruler’s commands all the people must obey.’ Do you know this Law?”
“Oh, yes,” replied Tourmaline. “That is why I am the Queen. You will notice my complexion is of a lighter pink than that of any other of my people.”
“Yes,” remarked Polychrome, looking at her critically, “when you were made Queen without doubt you had the lightest colored skin in all the Pink Country. But now you are no longer Queen of the Pinkies, Tourmaline.”
Those assembled were so startled by this statement that they gazed at the Rainbow’s Daughter in astonishment for a time. Then Tourmaline asked:
“Why not, your Highness?”
“Because here is one lighter in color than yourself,” pointing to Trot. “This girl is, by the Law of the
Great Book, the rightful Queen of the Pinkies, and as loyal citizens you are all obliged to obey her commands. Give me that circlet from your brow, Tourmaline.”
Without hesitation Tourmaline removed the rose-gold circlet with its glittering jewel and handed it to Polychrome, who turned and placed it upon Trot’s brow. Then she called in a loud, imperative voice:
“Greet your new Queen, Pinkies!”
One by one they all advanced, knelt before Trot and pressed her hand to their lips.
“Long live Queen Mayre!” called out Cap’n Bill, dancing around on his wooden leg in great delight; “vive la — vive la — ah, ah — Trot!”
“Thank you, Polly,” said Button-Bright gratefully. “This will fix us all right, I’m sure.”
“Why, I have done nothing,” returned Polychrome, smiling upon him; “it is the Law of the Country. Isn’t it surprising how little most people know of their Laws? Are you all contented, Pinkies?” she asked, turning to the people.
“We are!” they cried. Then several of the men ran out to spread the news throughout the City and Country, so that a vast crowd soon began to gather in the Court of the Statues.
Mayre, Queen of the Pink Country
POLYCHROME now dismissed all but Button-Bright, Cap’n Bill, Rosalie the Witch and the new Queen of the Pinkies. Tourmaline hastened away to her father’s house to put on a beautiful gown all covered with flounces and ribbons, for she was glad to be relieved of the duties of Queen and was eager to be gaily dressed and one of the people again.
“I s’pose,” said Trot, “I’ll have to put on one of Tourmaline’s common pink dresses.”
“Yes,” replied Polychrome, “you must follow the customs of the country, absurd though they may be. In the little sleeping chamber adjoining this room you will find plenty of gowns poor enough for the Queen to wear. Shall I assist you to put one on?”
“No,” answered Trot, “I guess I can manage it alone.”
When she withdrew to the little chamber the Rainbow’s Daughter began conversing with the Witch, whom she urged to stay with the new queen and protect her as long as she ruled the Pink Country. Rosalie, who longed to please the powerful Polychrome, whose fairy powers as Daughter of the Rainbow were far superior to her own witchcraft, promised faithfully to devote herself to Queen Mayre as long as she might need her services.
By the time Trot was dressed in pink, and had returned to the room, there was an excited and clamorous crowd assembled in the court, and Polychrome took the little girl’s hand and led her out to greet her new subjects.
The Pinkies were much impressed by the fact that the Rainbow’s Daughter was their new Queen’s friend, and that Rosalie the Witch stood on Trot’s left hand and treated her with humble deference. So they shouted their approval very enthusiastically and pressed forward one by one to kneel before their new Ruler and kiss her hand.
The parrot was now on Cap’n Bill’s shoulder, for Trot thought a Queen ought not to carry a bird around; but the parrot did not mind the change and was as much excited as anyone in the crowd.
“Oh, what bliss to kiss a miss!” he shouted, as Trot held out her hand to be kissed by her subjects; and then he would scream:
“We’re in the sky and flyin’ high:
We’re goin’ to live instead of die,
It’s time to laugh instead of cry;
Oh, my! ki-yi! ain’t this a pie!”
Cap’n Bill let the bird jabber as he pleased, for the occasion was a joyful one and it was no wonder the parrot was excited.
And, while the throng shouted greetings to the Queen, suddenly the great Rainbow appeared in the sky and dropped its end right on the Court of the Statues. Polychrome stooped to kiss Trot and Button-Bright, gave Cap’n Bill a charming smile and Rosalie the Witch a friendly nod of farewell. Then she sprang lightly upon the arch of the Rainbow and was greeted by the bevy of dancing, laughing maidens who were her sisters.
“I shall keep watch over you, Button-Bright,” she called to the boy. “Don’t despair, whatever happens, for behind the clouds is always the Rainbow!”
“Thank you, Polly,” he answered, and Trot also thanked the lovely Polychrome — and so did Cap’n Bill. The parrot made quite a long speech, flying high above the arch where Polychrome stood and then back to Cap’n Bill’s shoulder. Said he:
“We Pollys know our business, and we’re — all — right!
We’ll take good care of Cap’n Bill and Trot and Button-Bright
You watch ‘em from the Rainbow, and I’ll watch day and night,
And we’ll call a sky policeman if trouble comes in sight!”
Suddenly the bow lifted and carried the dancing maidens into the sky. The colors faded, the arch slowly dissolved and the heavens were clear.
Trot turned to the Pinkies.
“Let’s have a holiday to-day,” she said. “Have a good time and enjoy yourselves. I don’t jus’ know how I’m goin’ to rule this country, yet, but I’ll think it over an’ let you know.”
Then she went into the palace hut with Cap’n Bill and Button-Bright and Rosalie the Witch, and the people went away to enjoy themselves and talk over the surprising events of the day.
“Dear me,” said Trot, throwing herself into a chair, “wasn’t that a sudden change of fortune, though? That Rainbow’s Daughter is a pretty good fairy. I’m glad you knew her, Button-Bright.”
“I was sure something would happen to save you,” remarked Rosalie, “and that was why I voted to have you thrown off the edge. I wanted to discover who would come to your assistance, and I found out. Now I have made a friend of Polychrome and that will render me more powerful as a Witch, for I can call upon her for assistance whenever I need her.”
“But — see here,” said Cap’n Bill; “you can’t afford to spend your time a-rulin’ this tucked-up country, Trot.”
“Why not?” asked Trot, who was pleased with her new and important position.
“It’d get pretty tiresome, mate, after you’d had a few quarrels with the Pinkies, for they expec’ their Queen to be as poor as poverty an’ never have any fun in life.”
“You wouldn’t like it for long, I’m sure,” added Button-Bright, seriously.
Trot seemed thoughtful.
“No; I don’t know’s I would,” she admitted. “But as long as we stay here it seems a pretty good thing to be Queen. I guess I’m a little proud of it. I wish mother could see me rulin’ the Pinkies — an’ Papa Griffith, too. Wouldn’t they open their eyes?”
“They would, mate; but they can’t see you,” said Cap’n Bill. “So the question is, what’s to be done?”
“We ought to get home,” observed the boy. “Our folks will worry about us and Earth’s the best place to live, after all. If we could only get hold of my Magic Umbrella, we’d be all right.”
“The rose is red, the violet’s blue,
But the umbrel’s stole by the Boo-loo-roo!”
screamed the parrot.
“That’s it,” said Cap’n Bill; “the Boolooroo’s got the umbrel, an’ that settles the question.”
“Tell me,” said Rosalie; “if you had your Magic Umbrella, could you fly home again in safety?”
“Of course we could,” replied Button-Bright.
“And would you prefer to go home to remaining here?”
“We would, indeed!”
“Then why do you not get the umbrella?”
“How?” asked Trot, eagerly.
The Witch paused a moment. Then she said:
“You must go into the Blue Country and force the Boolooroo to give up your property.”
“Through the Fog Bank?” asked Cap’n Bill, doubtfully.
“And let the Boolooroo capture us again?” demanded Button-Bright, with a shiver.
“An’ have to wait on the Snubnoses instead of bein’ a Queen!” said Trot.
“You must remember that conditions have changed, and you are now a powerful Ruler,” replied Rosalie. “The Pinkies are really a great
nation, and they are pledged to obey your commands. Why not assemble an army, march through the Fog Bank, fight and conquer the Boolooroo and recapture the Magic Umbrella?”
“Hooray!” shouted Cap’n Bill, pounding his wooden leg on the floor; “that’s the proper talk! Let’s do it, Queen Trot.”
“It doesn’t seem like a bad idea,” added Button-Bright.
“Do you think the Pinkies could fight the Blueskins?” asked Trot.
“Why not?” replied the sailorman. “They have sharp sticks, an’ know how to use ‘em, whereas the Blueskins have only them windin’-up cords, with weights on the ends.”
“The Blueskins are the biggest people,” said the girl.
“But they’re cowards, I’m sure,” declared the boy.
“Anyhow,” the sailor remarked, “that’s our only hope of ever gett’n’ home again. I’d like to try it, Trot.”
“If you decide on this adventure,” said Rosalie, “I believe I can be of much assistance to you.”
“That’ll help,” asserted Cap’n Bill.
“And we’ve one good friend among the Blueskins,” said Button-Bright. “I’m sure Ghip-Ghisizzle will side with us, and I’ve got the Royal Record Book, which proves that the Boolooroo has already reigned his lawful three hundred years.”
“Does the book say that?” inquired Trot, with interest.
“Yes; I’ve been reading it.”
“Then Sizzle’ll be the new Boolooroo,” said the girl, “an’ p’raps we won’t have to fight, after all.”
“We’d better go prepared, though,” advised Cap’n Bill, “fer that awful ol’ Boolooroo won’t give up without a struggle. When shall we start?”
Trot hesitated, so they all looked to Rosalie for advice.
“Just as soon as we can get the army together and ready,” decided the Witch. “That will not take long — perhaps two or three days.”
“Good!” cried Cap’n Bill, and the parrot screamed:
“Here’s a lovely how-d’y’-do —
We’re going to fight the Boo-loo-roo!
We’ll get the Six Snubnoses, too,
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 320
