L. Frank Baum - Oz 27

by Ojo In Oz

  “Well, I’ve been floored, but I’m still in my skin,”

  he wheezed mournfully, “and if I do not think of something quickly we’ll both be done for!” Ojo said nothing but he quite agreed with Snuffer. Lying quietly beside him he wondered whether the robbers would ever go to sleep. When they did, he intended to take the bear’s advice and make a break for freedom. Realbad was the first to close his eyes, and while Ojo was waiting for the other bandits to doze off he must have fallen asleep himself, for when he wakened the cave was dark. Only a few embers glowed in the fireplace, but as the boy raised himself cautiously on his elbow a confused murmuring struck his ears. It was Tiny and Slayrum. The two robbers were whispering together in the darkness.

  “I don’t like it, I tell you,” hissed Tiny. “Can’t you see how soft Realbad is with the boy?

  Pull my nose, comrade, if he doesn’t mean to let him off and come back with some fish and bait story and no jewels. Besides, how is one man to carry all that treasure? We never thought of that, did we, mate? I tell you the thing to do is for us to steal this Ojo now and slip away while Realbad is still sleeping. If he wakes we’ll tie him up and toss him over the cliff.”

  “But, would that be right?” Slayrum spoke in a hoarse wheeze. “Realbad’s the chief, ye know.”

  “What’s the matter with your being chief?” proposed Tiny slyly, and in the little silence that followed, Ojo knew the bandit was thinking it over. Glancing at the calm face of Realbad, he felt suddenly very sor?y for him. what rogues these robbers were, and what would happen to him if they reached Moojer Mountain and found no reward? Fling him over a cliff in all likelihood.

  Rigid with suspense and anxiety, Ojo lay tensely beside Snuffer. If he roused Realbad and the bear, the robbers would overpower them all. And bandit though Realbad was, Ojo did not relish the notion of seeing him flung down a rocky gorge. Merciful Munchkin-! Here they came, treading carefully over their sleeping comrades. Turning over quickly Ojo rolled on a small sharp object. It was the silver whistle he had picked up in the forest when he was with the gypsies. It had probably fallen out of his pocket while he slept. Scarcely knowing why he did so, but only knowing he must do something, Ojo, as Slayrum’s great hand reached out to snatch him, seized the whistle and blew it with all his strength. The piercing blast echoed and re-echoed through the rocky cavern. Tiny and Slayrum were so startled that they stopped in their tracks, while the other robbers popped up from their rugs like jumping

  jacks, Realbad grasping his sword in both hands.

  Then, before Ojo could warn him of his danger, before Tiny or Slayrum could seize the little Munchkin or impart their wicked plans to the other bandits, there was a blinding flash and flutter over the open part of the cave. A dazzling silver radiance flooded it from one end to the other, and as Ojo and the robbers shivered with astonishment, a great silver bird, seventy times as large as the largest eagle, swooped down into the bandits’ lair. Each of its feathers was flashing silver and its eyes and beak were sparkling jewels that sent little sparks of radiance darting about the cave.

  “who calls Opodock?” whistled the silver bird in a low melodious voice. who needs or desires his

  help?”

  “Oh, I did, I do!” panted Ojo, recovering from his amazement before anyone else could speak.

  “Please send these bandits away quick!” Snatching Realbad’s hand and Snuffer’s paw he drew them back toward the fireplace, and it was well that he did, for the next moment, Opodock, spreading his great wings, dropped down before them. Raising his wings, Opodock fluttered them once, then again. A wind-no, a hurricane-arose, and like pebbles and sticks caught in a tidal wave the robbers were caught up

  and swept out of the cavern. Only Realbad, Snuffer, Ojo and the Silver Bird remained. As Realbad, jerking away from the little Munchkin, prepared to dart after the outlaws, Opodock spoke again.

  “Anything else, my masters?” But this time his voice was so soft and gentle that only one person heard it. Ojo was running wildly after Realbad, but Snufferbux, leaning close to the great Silver Bird, spoke six breathless words. Once more Opodock raised his silver wings. Another hurricane swept through the rocky enclosure and on the wings of that magic wind, Ojo, Snuffer and Realbad went sailing out of the cave, over the tree tops, up, up and up until they seemed but queerly shaped clouds whirling across the sky.

  CHAPTER 5

  A Safe Place

  IT seemed to Ojo that they had flown or rather blown along for hours. It was not an unpleasant sensation at all, and when they presently dropped down as softly as feathers upon a glassy, flat-topped

  mountain, his only feeling was one of thankfulness and relief. At last he was out of the clutches of the outlaws. Of course, Realbad was still along, but Ojo, for one reason and another, could not believe that Realbad was really as bad as he pretended to be. Looking doubtfully around at the robber chief, who had fallen beside him, he was relieved to see that he was smiling.

  “Humph!” chuckled Realbad, straightening his leather jacket and feeling about for his sword. “You look like the canary who swallowed the pussy cat, Ojo.”

  “You mean the cat that swallowed the canary, don’t you?” mumbled Snufferbux, rolling over and sitting up with a grunt.

  “No, I mean the canary who swallowed the cat,” repeated Realbad, sticking the sword through his belt. “Just now Ojo is the canary and I am the cat, and the canary has the upper hand, or I might say, er, wing.”

  “Speaking of wings, how did you like flying?” inquired Snufferbux calmly. He was so happy to be rid of the gypsies and free of the bandits that he could have conversed cheerfully about anything.

  “Not bad, though a bit sudden,” confessed the robber chief thoughtfully. “But who turned on this

  wind, where are my men, how did we get here and

  why?”

  “It was the silver whistle,” explained Ojo, jumping up and looking earnestly into Realbad’s face. “while you were asleep I heard Slayrum and Tiny planning to steal me because they thought you intended to let me go. If you awakened or objected they were going to throw you over the cliff and keep all the treasure for themselves. When they started toward me, I rolled over and this whistle I had picked up in the forest slipped out of my pocket. Thinking it might scare Tiny and Slayrum, I blew it as hard as I could. And it must have been a magic whistle, Realbad, for before I knew what was happening, down swooped that enormous bird and when I asked him to help me he flapped his wings and blew all of your men out of the cavern.”

  “Hm~mm! So those rascals meant to do away with me,” mused Realbad slowly. “Well, Ojo, you certainly blew that whistle in the nick of time. But how did we come here? Did you ask the bird to blow us to this deserted mountain top?”

  “I guess that was my doing,” observed Snufferbux complacently. “when the big fellow asked if we had any more orders, neither of you heard, so I

  asked it to take us quickly to some safe place.”

  “Safe place!” roared Realbad, leaping into the air as if he had been shot. “whatever made you do that? What good is a safe place to a bandit, I should like to know.”

  “Well, if you’d traveled around with gypsies as long as I have, you’d long for a safe place too, especially when you’ve a fine boy like Ojo to consider,” sniffed the bear, wagging his head stubbornly.

  “Boy, have you still got that whistle? Blow it! Blow it quick and get us away from here,” panted Realbad, hurrying over to Ojo. But though Ojo searched in all of his pockets he could not find the magic whistle to summon Opodock. He had left it somewhere in the cave.

  “Well, I must say this is nice!” fumed the bandit, striding fiercely up and down. “What good is a deserted mountain top to me?”

  “Oh, stop fussing,” advised Snuffer. “You ought to be thankful you are not lying at the bottom of some ravine instead of being high and safe up on this mountain top. You’re still a highwayman. Well, isn’t this high enough for you?”

  “That’s
just the point,” argued Realbad in exasperation. “How can I be a highwayman up here when there is no one to waylay or rob?”

  “Well, you could reform, couldn’t you?” suggested the bear, settling back comfortably against a crystal boulder. “You’ve lost your band, so why be a bandit? I can dance, you can sing (if I remember rightly) and Ojo, here, can pass the hat.”

  “What hat?” asked Ojo practically, and that made even Realbad laugh, for so swiftly had they blown to Snuffer’s safe place that Ojo’s hat had been left far behind them and Realbad’s only weapon was the sword he had seized when he was first awakened.

  “Never fear, we’ll get along somehow,” predicted Snufferbux cheerfully. “We’ll travel all over Oz till we find the Emerald City and return Ojo to his Unc Nunkie.”

  “Emerald City!” sniffed the bandit, sitting down hard beside the bear. “We’re not going to the Emerald City, we’re going to Moojer Mountain.”

  “I declare, you’re the stubbornest dumb creature I’ve ever met!” growled Snuffer, doubling up his paws. “If I’d had a grain of sense I’d never have wished you here. What good is a safe place with a fellow like you? The idea of talking like that after Ojo practically saved your life.”

  “That’s so,” admitted Realbad, looking thoughtfully over at the little Munchkin. “Well, look here,

  I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Since Ojo saved my life I will release him from his promise and he may try to escape any time he wishes. If he doesn’t escape we’ll go to Moojer Mountain. Is that a bargain?”

  “Oh, what is the use of bargaining,” answered Ojo in a depressed voice. “We’ll probably never get off this mountain, let alone reach any other one.” And it really did seem that Ojo was right. As far as they could see stretched a dazzling expanse of flat crystal rock. The sun, just rising over the mountain top, sent rosy streaks of light in every direction and already the glitter and flash of the crystal was making Ojo’s eyes water. Even Snuffer was beginning to feel that his safe place was not so desirable after all. Sniffing the frosty air hungrily, the brown bear wondered what they were to do about breakfast.

  “Let’s look around,” suggested Realbad, jumping up impatiently. “Come along, treasure, maybe we can find a path or some other way down.” Ojo did not like Realbad to call him treasure, but nevertheless, he hurried after the long-legged bandit and with Snuffer lumbering and muttering behind them, they made a careful survey of the mountain top. But upon that whole flat, glittering summit there was not a single flower, plant or tree and when they reached the edge Ojo drew back with a quick shudder. The sides of the mountain did not slant gradually downward. There was instead a sheer perpendicular drop of two thousand feet to the bottom. Any attempt to descend would mean destruction.

  “Watch out there!” panted Realbad, as Snuffer, in his eagerness to discover some path or way down, leaned far out over the treacherous edge. “Do you want to pitch over the edge and break yourself to chips and splinters?

  “Well, what if I do?” snapped the bear in a sulky voice. “why should a real bad fellow like you care what becomes of me?”

  “Oh, let’s not quarrel,” begged Ojo, smiling a little to himself at Realbad’s fierce expression as he dragged Snufferbux away from the mountain edge. “Let’s all be friends.”

  “I don’t see why you should be friends with a villain who intends to trade you for five thousand bags ofjewels,” grumbled Snuffer, jerking away from the bandit.

  “But he hasn’t done it yet,” answered Ojo quietly. “Let’s go sit down and try to think up something.”

  “Can you think up a breakfast?” demanded the bear sarcastically. “If you can, just think me up some waffles and maple syrup and a big bowl of

  berries.”

  “How about some safe tea?” roared Realbad. “What do you think of your safe place now, old Snufficus? We shall probably perish of safety before we are done. Pah! Safety! Give me danger every time, danger, excitement and the chance of a good battle.”

  “Is that why you are a bandit?” asked Ojo, throwing himself down on his stomach and shading his eyes from the burning glare of the sun on the crystal rocks.

  “Partly,” answered Realbad, flinging himself down beside Ojo and grinning over at Snuffer, who was sitting glumly on the other side of the boy.

  “But were you always one?” continued Ojo, who, like most boys, had an insatiable curiosity concerning such matters. “You don’t seem like the rest of the robbers at all!”

  “I don’t?” exclaimed Realbad, raising up on his elbows and staring through half closed eyes at the boy. “Oh, nonsense! I’m more like the bandits than the bandits themselves. I’ve sworn to be a bandit. I’ll be a bandit if it kills me. Do you hear?”

  “Not being deaf,” sniffed the bear, rocking himself sourly backward and forward, “we do!”

  “But why did you swear to be a bandit when

  there are so many other things to be? Besides, it’s against the law,” persisted Ojo.

  “Law!” scoffed Realbad, thumping the rocks angrily with his fist. “What good are the laws of Oz? All my possessions and treasures were stolen from me by gentlemanly and noble rascals, so I have become an ignoble and ungentlemanly rascal and shall continue to be one till I have taken from others as. much as others have taken from me.”

  “And how much was that?” inquired Ojo, genuinely thrilled and interested.

  “Oh, let’s talk about something else,” muttered Realbad, running his hands through his curly black hair. “Where do you suppose those merry rogues of mine are now? I hope they’re as safe and uncomfortable as we are.”

  “Well, I’m wondering about the gypsies,” mused Ojo, seeing that Realbad would tell him no more of his own history. “They must be dreadfully hungry by this time.”

  “Hungry? why should they be hungry?” demanded Realbad tartly. “I bound Zithero so loosely that he probably got free in an hour and untied all the rest of his good-for-nothing, thieving scalawags.”

  “The pot should not call the kettle black,” murmured Snufferbux, snapping his little eyes maliciously.

  “Are you calling me a pot?” shouted the bandit, jumping to his feet. Angrily repeating his question he struck the crystal boulder beside Snuffer a ringing blow with his sword. As Ojo, greatly alarmed, sprang up to separate the two a simply oztonishing thing happened. The rock, at the first touch of Realbad’s sword, swung smoothly to the right revealing a long, slanting slide that seemed to lead into the heart of the mountain.

  “A way down! A way down!” roared Snufferbux, bounding off the boulder. “what luck! what gorgeous luck!”

  “Pot luck, I’d call it,” chuckled Realbad, winking at the bear and restored to instant good humor.

  “But where do you suppose it goes?” shivered Ojo, sticking his head fearfully into the dark opening. “Why, it’s as steep and slippery as a toboggan slide. Do you think it’s safe?”

  “Safe! Well, I hope to Hickory not! Come along, little splinter. I’ve had enough safety.”

  “Here, let me go first,” grunted the bear, pushing Realbad aside and seating himself determinedly at the top of the slide. “Then if anything happens there’ll be something soft for you fellows to land on.”

  “Well, now that’s what I call kind!” Realbad clapped Snuffer heartily on the shoulder. “I’ll hold Ojo on my lap, for he is at present my only and dearest possession. All ready! One! Two! THREE!” At three, Snuffer let himself down on the slippery slide and like a shot disappeared into the darkness. Ojo had just time to gasp, “Be careful!” when Realbad seized him in his arms and seating himself on the glassy incline went whirling, dropping, and swooping after Snufferbux.

  CHAPTER 6

  The Frozen City

  THE slide inside the crystal mountain was steeply circular and down and round and round and down sped Snuffer, Realbad and Ojo, gathering momentum as they reached the end so that they shot out like three cannon balls into the open. Ojo, wondering why he felt so cold, soon discovered t
hat he was sitting in a snow drift. A fortunate thing, too, for it made a soft and splendid landing place. For several moments everything continued to spin; then

  gradually the scenery righted itself. In place of ten mountains, Ojo now saw only one and at the foot of the mountain, scarcely a hundred yards away, stood a gleaming, glittering City of Crystal.

  “Hah! Business looks up,” cried Realbad, brushing the snow from his leather jacket. Jumping briskly to his feet he held out his hands to Ojo. “Breakfast, beauty, booty and what not!”

  “Now, don’t begin that,” growled Snuffer sourly. “Ojo and I are not bandits and have no intention of becoming bandits. If we can’t make our way honestly we’ll starve,” stated the bear, getting grimly to his feet.

  “But starving is such slow work,” mused Realbad teasingly. “Why be good and glum when it’s so much more fun to be bad and gay? What do you say, Ojo, are you stealing or starving?”

  “Perhaps the king of this city will give us some breakfast,” said Ojo tactfully and without committing himself either way.

  “Breakfast?” shouted Realbad, tossing his hat derisively into the air. “You’?e a fine couple of highwaymen. Can you think of nothing but breakfast?”

  “It’s a wonder he can think at all,” grumbled Snufferbux, holding his head with both paws. “I’ve done a heap of mountain climbing in my day. I’ve gone

  up mountains and down mountains, but I never shot through the center of a mountain before and I don’t care if I never do it again.

  “Quite a descent,” agreed Realbad, winking at Ojo. “Quite a descent!”

  “Decent!” coughed Snuffer indignantly. “There’s nothing decent about it. I never experienced such an upside downside affair in my life. I’m missing a lot of fur, I’ll have you know, where I’m used to wearing it, and from the feel of this climate I’ll need all the fur I can get.”