“Came by post, didn’t you?” He paused to look curiously at the Guide Post Man who opened one eye, grinned and waved both arms at the Jinn. “Post haste, ho, ho!” chuckled the little wizard delightedly. “How long are you going to stay? I see you have brought a trunk.” Pursing his lips and leaning over
so far that he almost fell out of his jug, the Red Jinn stared mischievously at Kabumpo and then turned to wink at Randy.
“How could I come without my trunk?” hissed Kabumpo angrily. “It’s part of me and you well know
it !”
“You wouldn’t part with it I suppose?” asked the Jinn solemnly. Kabumpo was too outraged to answer, so the Jinn went on quite cheerfully. “Then keep it by all means, my dear old Wackajamia for;
“It belongs to you and it’s long enough To hold a barrel of tea or snuff, And if you took one sniff of snuff You’d sneeze your head off, like enough.”
“You’re talking through your lid,” stormed Kabumpo, his small eyes beginning to bulge dangerously. “I am the Elegant Elephant of Oz and Pumperdink, Prince and Regent in the House of Pompus the Great and-”
“Who cares? Who cares? Har, har! Who cares?” Folding his hands calmly over the vase encasing his bulging body, the Red Jinn blinked his eyes sleepily. “Do you know any new jokes, stories or riddles? Come, make yourselves agreeable and try to act like
visitors.”
“Oh, please,” interrupted Randy, afraid that the Jinn’s jokes and Kabumpo’s temper would ruin everything. “We have come to ask your help-!”
“Help? Help! Hel-lup!” shouted the Jinn, banging on his jar with a red umbrella he had picked up from the arm of the throne. “Help!” At his loud cries, in from every direction poured huge black slaves in red trousers and turbans. “Well,” yawned the Jinn in a bored voice, “here’s the help, nearly all that I have. Ask them whatever you wish!” Waving his arms carelessly toward his men, he retired within himself and closed the lid. The slaves, after touching their noses once to the floor, looked expectantly toward the travelers, but Kabumpo, snorting with disgust, was already waddling furiously toward the door.
“Let’s go,” he muttered thunderously. “Let us leave this miserable palace at once. I’ve never been so insulted in my life. Help! Help, indeed!”
“But, Kabumpo!” cried Randy, tugging at the Elegant Elephant’s robe. “Remember, this Jinn is the only one who can help us disenchant the King. You’re not going to spoil everything, are you?”
“Spoil everything?” snapped Kabumpo, flapping his ears indignantly. “Do you expect me to stand
here and make a fool of myself to amuse that old potted goose, yonder?”
“He’s only in fun,” explained Randy, speaking low so the Jinn could not hear. “Come on back and let’s try again.” Feeling in his heart that Randy was right, Kabumpo sniffed three times to show his contempt, then turned round and walked stiffly back to the throne. The slaves, receiving no orders or directions of any kind, had melted out of sight, the Post Man was sound asleep against the red pillar and there was no sound at all in the great, glittering room. The ruby-handled umbrella still lay on the arm of the throne and taking it in his hand, Randy tapped gently on the Jinn’s jar. So quickly that the boy almost toppled over backwards the Jinn thrust up his head.
“My mercy me!” puffed the little old fellow merrily. “You still here?”
“Yes!” answered Randy quickly, and before the Jinn had time to make any more jokes. “We wanted to tell you a story, sir.
“What kind of a story?” Without stopping to explain, while Kabumpo shifted sulkily from one foot to the other, Randy began at once a recital of all that had happened in Pumperdink and how Faleero and Kettywig had plotted to steal Pompus’ throne.
When he came to the part where Faleero, disguised as a traveling magician, had persuaded the royal family to pick the fire roses from the mist tree and how they had instantly vanished from view, the Jinn bounced up and spun round three times on his left heel.
“Red magic! I know how she did that” he exclaimed triumphantly. “And I am the only wizard in the north who can restore their Majesties.”
“That’s just what the soothsayer told us, that’s just why we came to you.” Quickly finishing up the story of their travels through Oz and their flight to Ev with the Post Man, Randy stepped closer and looked right into the Jinn’s face. “You will help us, won’t you?” he asked coaxingly.
“Help us and you shall have all of these jewels, my good fellow,” added Kabumpo condescendingly. Feeling in his pocket, he pulled out a plump bag and held it haughtily up in his trunk. The Jinn, who had been on the point of answering Randy, looked in astonishment at the little bag. An expression of anger and disgust crossed his ruddy face and snatching up his red umbrella he waved it three times round his head. As Randy gasped and Kabumpo stepped back, fifty blacks came racing into the throne
room. Each bore a great basket of blazing rubies. These they set down before their master and grinning wickedly at Kabumpo retired like shadows through the curtains. The Jinn, without another look at the Elegant Elephant or the little Gilliken sank out of sight.
“Now you’ve done it! Now you’ve done it and ruined everything! Great Gillikens, he has more jewels than we’ve seen in the whole of our lives! Whatever made you do that, Kabumpo? Whatever shall we do now?” Randy flung himself disconsolately on a red lacquered sofa.
“Do what you like. I’m through!” Looking very huge and haughty, but feeling very small and foolish, Kabumpo started to leave the Jinn’s palace. As the Elegant Elephant went swishing through the tinkling red curtains, Randy rose and stood uncertainly before the owner of the palace. Did he dare speak to him again? While he was still trying to decide, the Guide Post Man suddenly awoke and in one tremendous leap covered the distance between the red pillar and the throne. Raising his wooden arms, he brought them down so hard on the Jinn’s jar that the Jinn almost rolled off his spun glass cushions. Seizing the arm of the throne to save himself, the little wizard stuck out his head and
rolled his eyes savagely from side to side. As they lit upon the Post Man, that strange individual took off his knob, bowed politely and waving first one arm and then the other, whizzed out of an open window.
“I guess he wanted to say good-bye,” ventured Randy in an embarrassed voice.
“And good riddance, too,” grumbled the Jinn crossly. “Has that elephant gone?”
“I-I don’t think so,” answered Randy uncomfortably. “You see, we thought you might change your mind about helping us.”
“Help you? Why should I help you?” demanded the Jinn in a red peppery voice. “Give me one good reason if you can.”
“There really isn’t any reason,” admitted Randy, shaking his head ruefully. “But you are the only one wise, skillful and powerful enough to do it and I thought you might like the fun of trying.”
“It would be fun,” mused the Jinn, half to himself and half to Randy. “I haven’t been anywhere for a hundred years. Where is this Pumperdinky kingdom anyway and what relation are you to its unhappy sovereigns?” “None at all,” Randy told him frankly. “But I was in the castle when all this happened and as I’m fond of mysteries and like Kabumpo, I thought
it would be a fine adventure to help restore the royal family to the throne.”
“But that elephant is perfectly preposterous!” exploded the Jinn indignantly. “Offering me a peanut bag full ofjewels. Me, the real and only Red Jinn in all Ev, possessor of fifty ruby mines and all the science and secrets of red magic and art!” “Oh, he didn’t mean to offend you, I’m sure,” explained Randy anxiously. “He’s grand, really, when he’s not showing off. You’ll like him a lot when you know him better.”
“Well, I like you a lot now,” smiled the Jinn, twinkling his glass eyes at the boy. “And I believe I’ll help you, too. Shake hands on it, Randy. That’s what you call yourself, is it not? And to my friends my name is Jinnicky,
“He’s the one and only
Jinnicky and very awfully finicky
About his friends, his jewels, his tea;
So try ‘to please him, boy, or he
Will seal you in a ginger jar and toss you in the sea,
Har, har!
How har, har, horrid that would be, so let’s forget it.
Where’s my tea?” The last line Jinnicky roared so loud that the very curtains trembled and before Randy could blink, a small Servitor, bearing a silver tea tray flashed down
before the throne. Handing Randy one cup and the Jinn another, he set down the tray and retired as quickly as he had appeared. Perched on the edge of a red chair, Randy sipped the steaming liquid, recalling rather uneasily the verses about the ginger jar. He was worried about Kabumpo, too. But the Red Jinn, chattering away of Pumperdink and the art of restoring the vanished ones, seemed to have forgotten everything unpleasant and was so jolly, and bubbling over with good humor that Randy began to feel gay and light-hearted himself.
“When will we start?” he asked eagerly. “Now?”
“Now, or never!” beamed Jinnicky, setting down his tea cup and bouncing off the throne. “Where is that big gom of an elephant, anyway?”
CHAPTER 12
The Grand Advizier Advises
THEY found Kabumpo under a ginger tree in the garden and when Jinnicky clapped him briskly on the trunk and told him he had decided to help him, the Elegant Elephant was so embarrassed that he could do nothing but grunt and
splutter. Taking these dubious sounds for appreciation and thanks, the Jinn announced that they were leaving for Pumperdink at once, and motioning for Kabumpo to follow pattered determinedly back to the palace.
“There are always three things to decide about a journey,” panted Jinnicky, dropping down on his cushions and clasping his hands round his shiny middle. “Where to go, what to take and how to travel. The first we know, the second we shall leave to my Grand Advizier, the third we must decide for ourselves. Now then, my lads, how shall we travel to Pumperdink?”
“Where’s the Post Man?” demanded Kabumpo, looking around sharply. He had not enjoyed the dash through the air with their singular guide, but he had rather counted on going back the same way. “Where is that surly offspring of a tree stump?”
“Gone,” answered Jinnicky, calmly rocking back and forth. “So we cannot go by post. My magic jinrikisha might carry Randy and me but it would never hold an elephant, so we cannot go by jinrikisha.”
“I should not care to ride in a jinrikisha anyway,” sniffed Kabumpo loftily. “I’ve never ridden in such a contrivance, and I don’t intend to begin now.”
“Then it looks as though we would have to go afoot,” mused Jinnicky, taking off his lid and scratching his red head reflectively. “Mercy me!” He looked ruefully at his small, fat slippered feet and sighed.
“Oh, you can ride on my back, I suppose,” remarked Kabumpo carelessly. He had no great liking for the saucy little Jinn, but felt he must put up with some inconveniences if he was to get him to Pumperdink and save the kingdom from Kettywig. “Of course, if you fall off and jar yourself, you cannot hold me responsible,” he added in a severe tone. “And if that does happen,” thought Kabumpo spitefully to himself, “I shall just take his magic and disenchant their Majesties without his help.”
Randy looked distressed at Kabumpo’s rude speech, but the Jinn, who loved a joke, even on himself, laughed uproariously.
“You cannot jar a fellow who is already jarred,” puffed Jinnicky, wiping the tears of merriment from his fat cheeks. “I’ve been jarred all my life and never been broken yet” The Jinn winked a glass eye at Kabumpo, and the Elegant Elephant was so upset to have the Jinn read his thoughts that he immediately lapsed into an uneasy silence.
“But how about the Deadly Desert?” asked Randy,
sitting down on the steps of Jinnicky’s throne and looking up eagerly into his face.
“Oh-that!” Jinnicky snapped his fingers unconcernedly. “Wait till we come to it, my boy.” Taking up his red umbrella he pounded vigorously on the arm of his ruby throne. In answer to this strange summons, a tall, turbaned and exceedingly dignified gentleman stalked into his presence. He was tastefully dressed in red, had a neat pointed nose, a neat pointed beard and the toes of his neat pointed shoes curled nearly up to his knees. With folded arms he approached the throne, and nodding in a careless fashion to the Jinn stood waiting for him to speak. This Jinnicky did at once by explaining cheerfully:
“Alibabble, these are my friends from Oz-Kabumpo and Randy. I leave you to guess which name belongs to which.” Alibabble, raising one eyebrow, glanced quickly from the Elegant Elephant to the little Gilliken and with a haughty and supercilious nod turned back to his master.
“You sent for me?” he observed in an annoyed
voice.
“Yes, I’m going on a journey. Kindly make the necessary preparations.” Jinnicky rubbed his hands gleefully together.
“Well, first, I advise you to have a hair cut,” said
Alibabble, in a firm voice.
“A hair cut!” shrieked the Jinn angrily. “You’re always telling me to have my hair cut. I’ll cut your salary for this. No wonder I want to get away. Hair cut! Hair cut! I hear nothing else from morning till night. Barber! Barber!” Jinnicky sprang to his feet, his glass eyes rolling savagely. And when the barber, attired in the same red costume as Alibabble, arrived, breathless from his hurry, the Jinn waved sternly at the Grand Advizier.
“Cut his hair and just take off the head with it,” he commanded temperishly. As the barber drew a long gleaming scimitar from his sash, Randy jumped up in horror and even Kabumpo gave a grunt of protest. Alibabble, however, seemed perfectly calm. Seating himself in a red chair, be began slowly Unwinding his turban, disclosing a crop of shortly clipped red hair. As the barber raised his scimitar the Red Jinn seemed to think of something.
“Never mind about his head,” he mumbled disagreeably, “I might need it later.” Randy could not help thinking Alibabble might need it himself, but the Grand Advizier, without a change of expression, sat quietly smoking a cheroot while the barber shaved off what was left of his short locks.
“Well, now that we’ve had our hair cut” smiled Jinnicky maliciously, “let us proceed with the rest of the preparations.
“Are you going to take Addie?” inquired Alibabble, picking up a small basket from a red stand.
“I don’t-know-” murmured the Jinn, rubbing his chin as he deliberated. “Do you think there’ll be much adding to do, Randy?”
“Adding!” exclaimed the boy, as the Grand Advizier took the top off the basket. “Oh, If don’t think so, sir. Do you, Kabumpo?”
“How should I know?” sniffed the Elegant Elephant, swinging his trunk indifferently. Then his eyes popped out in real astonishment, as a small snake that had been coiled in the basket rose up on its tail and lazily surveyed him.
“Then she can help us now,” decided the Jinn, settling back contentedly, “and add up all the articles we need for the journey. She’s my hissing adder,” he confided pridefully to Randy. “No sum is too difficult for her, either.”
The Grand Advizier addressed the adder in a dignified tone. “Let me see, now. We’ll need the green jug, the blue vase, the red jar, the black pitcher, the purple incense, the yellow incense, the pink incense, the blue bottle, the green bottle, the grey bottle, the
red bottle, the green flower pot, your red glasses, the silver dinner bell and your old umbrella.”
As the Grand Advizier counted off each item, Addie gave a hiss and made a puncture on a sheet of paper suspended from the handle of the basket with her sharp tongue. Randy was so interested watching the hissing adder at work that he paid no attention at all to what Alibabble was saying. But Kabumpo, putting his great ears inquisitively forward began to seethe and bubble with resentment and indignation.
“Pots! Bottles, jugs and flower pots! Does he take us for peddlers?” fumed Kabumpo fiercely in Randy’s ear. “Great grump! I�
��ll look like a pack horse.
“I-how about some food?” he called, belligerently raising his trunk.
“There will be food,” announced Alibabble composedly, “but not your kind of food, my friend. I fear you will have to forage for your provisions.”
“Forage?” trumpeted Kabumpo, with an outraged snort. “What forage?”
“Bar, har! You must forage for elephant porridge,
For cabbage and turnips and round nuts,
For the grasses and hay you will need every day,
For the tree leaves and tea leaves and ground nuts!”
chanted Jinnicky, leaning over to take the paper from Addie. The hissing adder had placed a line of dots under her list and punctured out with her tongue the figure fifteen. While the Jinn examined this figure with wrinkled brows and Kabumpo rumbled angrily under his breath, Alibabble shut Addie up in the basket, snatched the paper from Jinnicky and was gone. In exactly five minutes by the Jinn’s red glass clock, two of the Jinn’s tallest slaves appeared carrying the fifteen bottles, jugs, pots and vases. A third little black walked behind them and handing Jinnicky a silver bell, a pair of red glasses and a note, promptly took to his heels. The Jinn gave the bell and spectacles to Randy and pursing up his lips opened the note.
“I earnestly advise your Majesty to have a hair cut before starting on this journey.” It was signed “Alibabble,” and Randy, who had read the message surreptitiously over Jinnicky’s shoulder, skipped quickly down the steps.
L. Frank Baum - Oz 26 Page 7
