L. Frank Baum - Oz 26

by The Purple Prince Of Oz

  “Three hundred bounds and two bounces,” squeaked the baker, one word to each hug the Elegant Elephant gave him. “Exqueeze me, please.”

  “Certainly!” roared Kabumpo, dropping the baker so hard that he bounced over a rubber tree. “I vote we go,” he added in an undertone to Randy. “In a minute they’ll start punching us and then there’ll be a regular game of ball.”

  “I’d like to have something to remind me of the place,” said Randy, who could scarcely take his eyes off the bouncing, bounding, boisterous Squee Gees.

  “All right but be quick about it,” advised Kabumpo.

  “How about some of those rubber flowers?”

  “Just what I was thinking.” Sliding to the ground, Randy seized a rubber rose in both hands. The stem, instead of breaking, stretched and stretched, and as the boy gave it an especially hard tug it snapped off and gave him a stinging blow on the nose. His action seemed to infuriate the Squee Gees. Bouncing up to him they began squeezing and thumping him on the chest till he was positively breathless. Kabumpo could not help laughing when the rose hit Randy, but seeing that matters were now really serious, he pushed the rubber men right and left and lifting Randy in his trunk charged headfirst through the crowd. Each time Kabumpo touched the rubber paving blocks he went twenty feet upward and twenty feet forward so that in less than ten springs and a bounce he was entirely out of bounds and out of Squee Gee Ville. Indeed, the last bounce carried them over the city wall and landed them, terribly tossed about and breathless, in the middle of a hay

  field.

  “Grapes and grandywogs!” exploded Kabumpo crossly, feeling himself all over with his trunk. “For two straws I’d go back and puncture the whole population. Why didn’t we think of that before?

  Well,

  here’s lunch, anyway, and high time for it, too.” Randy’s nose was still red and swollen, but he could not help grinning as the Elegant Elephant made savage lunges at a huge stack of hay. He himself had a big box of sandwiches the giant had ordered put up for him and unstrapping the box from his shoulders he too began to eat, thinking as he did so of all the curious experiences he had had since leaving Pumperdink.

  “I wonder if that soothsayer told the truth,” he observed presently. “Do you suppose this Red Jinn can really restore the King and the others?”

  “I really do!” answered the Elegant Elephant with conviction. “And instead of wasting time at the capital telling our story to Ozma and the Wizard of Oz, we’ll just skirt the Emerald City and push right on to the Quadling country. Have you noticed anything special about this field of hay, my boy?” Randy nodded, for his mouth was full of chicken. Then with a hasty swallow he waved toward the fences.

  “Green!” he cried triumphantly. “So we are out of the Gilliken country and the Quadling country must be somewhere just below. I wish I could see Ozma and the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion,” he added, a bit wistfully.

  “Plenty

  of time for that when we’ve saved Pumperdink,” answered Kabumpo sternly.

  “After

  we have

  rescued

  Pompus and his family, you and I will travel all over Oz,” he promised grandly. “Nothing to keep us home, you know.”

  Randy smiled a little at this, but saying nothing he straightened the Elegant Elephant’s robe and settled himself cozily in back of Kabumpo’s left ear.

  “Suppose the Red Jinn does not live in the Quadling country after all,” he said quietly, as Kabumpo started diagonally across the hay field.

  “What are you trying to do? Spoil my lunch?”

  Flapping his huge ears like sails, Kabumpo quickened

  his pace and brushing aside the green fence

  with one push of his trunk swung confidently out

  on a broad and prosperous looking highway. In

  the distance they could see the gleaming turrets

  of Ozma’s castle and Randy could not help thinking

  it would save them both time and trouble to stop

  and ask Ozma the exact location of the Red Jinn’s

  palace. But Kabumpo, without turning his head once

  in the direction of the Emerald City, hustled down

  the highway and in an hour they passed under the

  crimson arch leading into the Red Lands of Oz.

  “Well, here we are!” announced the Elegant Elephant cheerfully. “Here we are!” The arch stood on the crest of a hill, and spreading invitingly out before them were the red plains and valleys, the

  small

  towns and stately castles of the Quadlings.

  “This Jinn may live in any one of those castles!” exclaimed Kabumpo, waving his trunk impressively from left to right. There were five castles in plain view and very much excited and encouraged he started down the hill. A narrow footpath led through a small red wood at the bottom and anxious to reach the first castle as soon as possible the Elegant Elephant broke into a run. Emerging from the wood he almost collided with a sturdy guide post standing at a fork in the roads.

  “What does it say?” asked Randy, as Kabumpo, grumbling a little, backed off.

  “Never heard a guide post say anything and this one doesn’t even point,” answered Kabumpo impatiently. “What good is it anyway?”

  “Why, it has a face painted on its knob,” cried Randy. “Maybe the directions are on the back.”

  Walking stiffly around the post the Elegant Elephant pricked up his ears at what he saw.

  THIS GUIDE POST MAN WILL DIRECT OR TAKE YOU ANYWHERE, stated a small sign on the Post Man’s back.

  “Is he alive?” Sliding quickly to the ground Randy squinted up at the jolly looking Post Man. “Great Gillikens, did you see that wink?” Kabumpo certainly did and as it did not seem at all respectful

  for a wooden post to wink at an Elegant Elephant, Kabumpo shook his trunk severely.

  “Kindly direct us to the castle of the Red Jinn,” he ordered haughtily. At this the Post Man merely closed one painted eye and yawned terrifically.

  “Maybe he’s deaf,” volunteered Randy, as the Guide Post Man opened his eye and looked thoughtfully off into space.

  “Why, of course he’s deaf! Deaf as a post. He is a post, you know.”

  “He’s a fraud!” raged Kabumpo, lurching forward angrily. “What does he mean, standing there like a stick and yawning in my face and not lifting a finger to help us?”

  “Wait!” begged Randy, as Kabumpo raised his trunk threateningly. “There may be some more directions. Oh, there are!”

  Walking sulkily after Randy, Kabumpo saw a small box like a letter box attached to the Post Man’s back.

  POST ENQUIRIES HERE, directed a notice on the box.

  “Got a pencil?” Feeling in his own pocket, Randy found one himself before Kabumpo had time to look, and tearing a sheet from a small memorandum book he scribbled hastily: “Where is the castle of the Red Jinn?” Dropping the paper in the box Randy and

  Kabumpo hurried to the other side and stared expectantly into the Post Man’s face. What happened was quite upsetting, especially to Randy. The Guide Post Man’s two wooden arms, which had been tightly pressed to his sides, now flew up violently. One knocked Randy over like a ten pin and the other hit Kabumpo a fearful blow on the trunk.

  “Oh-ouch!” roared the Elegant Elephant, stamping one foot and then the other. “Such manners! If I were the King of this country I’d chop off your knob and burn you for firewood. I’d tear you down and root you up and smash you into splinters!”

  “What’s the use of shouting like that when he can’t even hear you?” Rubbing his head, Randy picked himself up and looked rather angrily at the Post Man himself.

  “Why, he’s trying to point the way to the Jinn’s castle. We were too close to him, that’s all!” he exclaimed suddenly. “See, he has both arms pointed northwest!”

  “But we just came from the north,” answered Kabumpo, with an exasperated snort. “Didn’t I tell you the Red Jinn’s castle was in
the south?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t make it in the south,” persisted Randy calmly. “It may not be in Oz at all!”

  “Not in Oz at all I Great Grump, are you crazy?

  Have we come all this distance to take our orders

  from a stupid blockhead like this? Pay no attention

  to the wooden pest. Come on, he has wasted enough

  of our time already.” Glaring at the Post Man, who

  winked first one eye and then the other, Kabumpo

  turned on his heel and began moving slowly down

  the road. But Randy was not so sure the Post Man

  was wrong. Walking quickly around he carefully

  reread the sign on the fellow’s back: THIS GUIDE

  POST MAN WILL DIRECT OR TAKE YOU ANYWHERE.

  “I wonder if he really would,” pondered the boy thoughtfully, and first making sure that Kabumpo was not looking he took out his pencil and wrote: “Please take us to the castle of the Red Jinn, at once!” Underlining “at once,” he stuffed the paper into the Post Man’s box and feeling rather frightened ran after the Elegant Elephant. As he reached him, there was a great whirl and swish and his hand was gripped firmly by the wooden fingers of the Post Man. At the same moment Kabumpo’s trunk was unceremoniously seized by the Guide Post Man’s other hand and up like roman candles shot the three before Kabumpo even knew what was happening to him. Over the Emerald City and on they flashed, till Randy lost all sense of time, space and distance.

  CHAPTER 10 Regalia

  IN the far northwestern corner of the Gilliken country lies Regalia, a proud, pompous and regal little kingdom, high in the purple mountains of Oz. Its rulers, born to the purple, so to speak, have come down in straight succession for more than a thousand years and its castle, with amethyst windows and spires, is one of the most splendid sights in the country.

  The Regalians, though of a somewhat proud and haughty bearing, are really kind and merry at heart-much given to feasting, celebrations and gay processions.

  But on this particular bright May morning an unwonted gloom hung over the mountainside. All the silver curtains in the castle were drawn and the courtiers, whispering uneasily among themselves, tiptoed up and down the silent corridors. Outside, the purple and regally clad mountaineers and villagers gathered in anxious groups and knots, and glancing up at the castle on the mountain top from time to time, shook their heads mournfully. The Royal Flag of Regalia was not flying from the tower,

  for the Royal Ruler of all the Regalians was absent from the castle and none knew when he would return -or whether he would return at all.

  In the throne room, gazing intently at a great amethyst ball placed before him on a golden table, sat Hoochafoo, uncle of the absent ruler. Tugging anxiously at his purple beard he would look up now and then to cast worried glances at the door and windows. Hoochafoo, though not noted for his wit or wisdom, though dubbed by his mischievous compatriots Hoochafoo, the Foolish, was nevertheless a gentle and amiable old nobleman. But the responsibility of ruling Regalia weighed heavily upon his spirits, and anxiety over his Royal nephew made him still more nervous and unhappy.

  “This suspense is killing me!” groaned the poor fellow, and running across the room he pulled the bell cord violently.

  “Summon the Wise Man, at once!” he directed the page who appeared to answer the bell. “At once!” And thrusting his long hands into the pockets of his splendid coat, Hoochafoo began pacing up and down the room at such a rate that he often met himself in the middle before he reached the end and when the old Wise Man did appear he almost knocked him over.

  “Prunes and pretzels!” sputtered the sage, straightening his peaked cap. “What now? Your Highness knows this is my day for reflecting. How can I think of ways and means, I mean means and ways, bosh and bother what do I mean?”

  “Sit down,” begged Hoochafoo, flinging himself disconsolately upon the throne. “Sit down, you must stay with me. Ah, Chalulu, Chalulu, what shall I

  do, do?”

  “Do nothing,” answered the Wise Man, lowering himself crossly into a gold rocker. “There is nothing you can do, as I have told you a dozen times a day, nothing to do but wait until the conditions of the test have been fulfilled and the prince has proved his prowess, whatever that is,” finished the Wise Man, with a furious sniff.

  “Yes, but he may be in great danger,” wailed Hoochafoo, clasping and unclasping his hands, “facing unknown and savage monsters-lying exhausted at the bottom of some deep ravine. We must do something, I tell you. Call out the guard, search the forest! Do something, do you hear?”

  “I hear,” answered Chalulu sourly, “but I can do nothing. It is the law and written in the Royal Book of Regalia that the prince of the realm must go forth alone and unaided and prove himself worthy of the

  crown. Alone! Since the King, your brother, has chosen to retire from the throne and pursue the life of a hermit in the mountains, the prince must take His place. But why fret and worry this way? Have not all our former princes successfully passed the test? Has not our present prince shown himself brave and resourceful? Calm yourself, I beg. Go catch fish-catch cold-fall down the mountain,” he suggested helpfully.

  “But eight days, and not one word from him” moaned Hoochafoo, scarcely hearing the words of the Wise Man. “Not once has the amethyst ball flashed fire. Not one of the conditions of the test has been accomplished. Just read them again,” he commanded, leaning his head wearily back against the throne and closing his eyes. Grumbling with annoyance, Chalulu unrolled and read a long scroll:

  “Upon the passing, abdication or retirement of the King of Regalia, the prince of the realm shall go forth alone and without knowing the contents of this scroll fulfill all of its conditions. “One: The prince must make three true friends. “Two: He must faithfully serve a strange King. “Three: He must save a Queen. “Four: He must prove his bravery in battle.

  “Five: He must overcome a monster. “Six: He must disenchant a princess. “Seven: He must receive from a wizard some magic treasure.

  “As each test is successfully met the amethyst ball in the throne room will flash fire.”

  “Awful!” muttered Hoochafoo, as Chalulu finished reading and rolled up the scroll. “Ridiculous! How can one small prince do all that? Or even half of that? How-how? Why, he has done it! Look!

  Look! The ball has flashed fire! He has actually accomplished one of the feats.

  The prince is safe! Ring the bells! Call the guards! Declare a holiday at once!

  The prince is safe and alive and everything will be punjanoobias.” The Wise Man, as Hoochafoo dashed hilariously to and fro, ringing bells, throwing up windows and pulling back the curtains, hurried anxiously after him.

  “Remember, he has only passed one of the tests,” wheezed Chalulu warningly. “There are still six more ahead of him.”

  “Six more? Six more fiddlesticks! If he has accomplished one, he will accomplish all. Don’t you realize that this means the prince is safe and well? Stay here, you old skin and bones. Watch that ball while I go and break the good tidings to our countrymen!”

  Rushing out on the balcony Hoochafoo flung up his arms and called out the happy news at the top of his lungs. And soon the cheers and joyous shouts of the Regalians rang from peak to peak so that the goats stopped their grazing and pricking up their ears turned their heads curiously toward the castle on the purple mountain top.

  CHAPTER 11

  In the Castle of the Red Jinn

  ALTHOUGH their dash through the air seemed hours long to Randy and Kabumpo, just ten minutes after they left the Quadling Country of Oz, they had zipped over the Deadly Desert and come crashing down in Ev. Before them stretched a green and glassy sea and on the edge of the sea rose a scintillating red glass palace. Without waiting for them to rest or recover their breath, the Guide Post Man, who seemed to have the strength of an army, dragged them to the palace, up its hundred glittering glass steps, through the doors and straight into
the throne room. As soon as they had reached the throne, the Post Man dropped Randy’s hand and

  Kabumpo’s trunk as suddenly as he had seized them, and leaning wearily against a red glass pillar, closed his eyes.

  “Such manners!” raged the Elegant Elephant, pressing his trunk to his head, which was still spinning giddily from the dizzy spin through the air. “Such manners!”

  “Well, at least he brought us here!” panted Randy, pulling down his coat and smoothing back his pompadore. “I told him to take us to the castle of the Red Jinn and here we are. This must be his palace, Kabumpo. Everything is red!” The floors of the throne room were of smooth, transparent red glass; curtains of strung red rubies twinkled pleasantly at the windows and doors, and the tables, chairs and other furnishings were of shining crimson lacquer. A pleasant pink incense hung in the air and leading to the throne was a double row of enormous red vases. A smaller vase occupied the throne itself and giving the Elegant Elephant a nudge Randy whispered excitedly, “Look, look, there’s the Red Jinn himself.”

  “I see nothing but a big red jug,” wheezed Kabumpo, trying to focus his eyes on the throne. His head was still going round like a top.

  “Sh—hh, not so loud! If we want him to help us

  we’ll have to be careful!

  “It’s the Red Jinn, I tell you! Don’t you see his arms and legs?” But flying had put the Elegant Elephant in a terrible temper and dragging his cloak straight he muttered crossly:

  “Help us! Why shouldn’t he help us? I guess our castle’s as good as this, and I’m sure I’m as important as he is! Hum, humph, ha!”

  “Har! Har! Har!” Kabumpo and Randy exchanged startled glances, for the muffled laughter had come from the middle of the red vase. Then up went the lid and out popped the round rosy face of an exceedingly fat and jolly old gentleman. The lid of the vase sat gaily on the back of his head like a cap and except for his red glass eyes, he looked quite kind, good-natured and grandfatherly. While Randy was trying to think of something polite to say, the old gentleman started the conversation himself by crying in a cheery voice: