by Ojo In Oz
hugged the clock convulsively and waited for the first prick. But he landed as lightly as a thistle on the-golden steps of a brilliantly lighted castle. Still dazed and unbelieving he teetered back and forth. Then, seeing the others racing up the steps, he took a firmer hold on the clock and made bold to follow. Through the halls of the palace, as grand and imposing as any in Oz, the Wizard and his strange companions hurried breathlessly. The search light, growing brighter every moment, led them straight into a massive throne room with a domed ceiling. And there, on the huge, sapphire-studded throne sat the shriveled figure of Mooj, the magician, ridiculous in a tall crown and velvet mantle. Before the throne, bound, but still erect and defiant, stood Ojo, and beside the little Munchkin was a tall, weeping queen robed all in silvery satin. A heavy chain had been slipped around her waist and two sorrowful-looking guards held the ends. As the Wizard’s search light flashed over the room and came to rest on Ojo, Mooj sprang up and stamping his feet began to make weird and menacing passes in the air. Ozma, realizing at once that he was trying to enchant them, Quickly touched her magic belt, spoke a few low words, and instead of Mooj a small sparrow hopped
impotently up and down on the velvet cushions of the throne. A silken cord bound it to the arm, for even as a sparrow a magician like Mooj is not to be trusted. Then, and then only, did the little fairy ruler release Ojo from his bonds. Realbad, brushing aside the guards, dragged the chain from the queen. Snuffer was so astonished at all these happenings that he dropped the clock with a bang and the cuckoo, flying out with an angry screech, bit him severely on the ear.
“It’s about time somebody thought of us,” raged the little bird, bouncing up and down on Snuffer’s shoulder, and Ozma, heartily agreeing, touched her magic belt and quickly restored Dorothy, the Cowardly Lion and Scraps to their proper shapes. The lion, hiccoughing violently from the effects of the ticking no doubt, immediately sat down and wrapped his tail like a bandage around his aching head. Scraps collapsed in a heap beside him, but Dorothy, rushing forward, begged Ojo to tell them all that had happened since the gypsies carried him off. Realbad was gazing into the eyes of Isomere, his queen, as if there were no one else in the castle.
“Will somebody please say something?” begged Snuffer, leaning heavily against a jeweled pillar. “Where are we, who are we? Speak, before I die of
curiosity.” The bear’s agitated question seemed to bring Realbad out of his daze. Letting the queen’s hands go he dropped down on the steps of the throne and drew Isomere down beside him. Then, with one arm around Ojo, he faced the silent and curious company.
“Now at last I can speak,” sighed Realbad, looking quizzically over his shoulder at the strugghng sparrow. “Now at last it is safe for me to tell the whole story.”
“Oh, Realbad, are you really-really my father?” asked Ojo, giving the bandit an ecstatic squeeze. Of all the strange discoveries and happenings, this seemed to the boy the most thrilling of all. “But I was coming back to you anyway!” he stated calmly.
“Were you really?” asked the bandit wistfully, drawing Ojo closer.
“Oh, do begin at the beginning and go straight on to the end,” begged Dorothy, sitting on the step below Realbad and making room for Scraps beside her, “and let’s all sit down and be comfortable.”
Ozma had already seated herself in a high-backed satin chair with her hand resting lightly on the lovely mane of the unicorn. Hastily grouping themselves around the throne, the others prepared to listen with
all ears to Realbad’s story.
“Long ago,” began the former outlaw slowly, “before her Royal Highness, Princess Ozma, became ruler of Oz, the Kings of Seebania ruled all the southern part of the Munchkin country, and the city where you now find yourselves is Shamsbad, the capital. When Ozma succeeded to the throne and quite naturally and rightfully chose her own leaders for the various countries of Oz, my father, then King of Seebania and his brother, Prince Stephen,” Realbad smiled affectionately at Unc Nunkie, “relinquished their claims to all the small countries of the south and retired within the borders of Seebania itself. This kingdom, still an immense but little known tract of wild forest land, is bounded on the north by the Munchkin River and on the south by the Quadling Country. Here, within the borders of their own kingdom, these brothers ruled contentedly and peacefully until the arrival of an Old wise man from the north. “This fellow, whose name you already know, worked his way by flattery and clever tricks into the good graces of the king and received in due time an important position at court. My father, ever fonder of hunting than of ruling, left more and more of the affairs of state to Mooj; and Mooj, using his powers and opportunities to his own advantage, secretly plotted to steal the throne. One day, when my father failed to return from a hunting trip, Mooj summoned the councillors of state and proclaimed himself sole sovereign of Seebania. When uncle Stephen and I quite naturally protested we were cast into separate dungeons and threatened with utter destruction. I was at this time about twenty-four,” continued Realbad reflectively, “and already married to Isomere, this lovely princess I see you all admiring.” Isomere blushed becomingly at Realbad’s praise, but with scarcely a pause he continued his recital:
“On the second day of my imprisonment Mooj appeared before me and openly acknowledged that he was a powerful magician and that he had destroyed my father and secured by his magic spells the loyalty and support of all the Seebanians. If I promised to go away and never reveal my identity, he promised that no harm should come to Isomere, my wife. If I refused to go, or if, after I did go, I ever tried to return and claim her, his magic would tell him so, and at that very moment Isomere would be utterly and dreadfully destroyed. So what could I do but agree!” Realbad groaned at the memory of that awful day.
“With nothing more than the suit on my back he went on,” I started out. Mooj accompanied me to the edge of a deep ravine, and as I turned to have one last look at my father’s castle the deceitful rascal suddenly pushed me over the edge.” Ojo looked up with a horrified gasp into Realbad’s face. “Fortunately,” went on Realbad, giving Ojo a reassuring smile, “Mooj did not know of the magic rings given me by an old fairy at my christening. These rings I wore always, and they kept me from being crushed or injured. Well, as I lay stunned and too miserable to rise at the bottom of the cliff, a band of robbers happened along.
Taking pity on me and I must have presented a woeful enough appearance - they picked me up and carried me off to their cave. There I gradually pulled myself together. Robbed of everything I held most dear I grew bitter and disillusioned, becoming first a member and later the leader of the robber band.
And an outlaw I have been ever since,” declared Realbad defiantly, “until chance threw me into the company of Ojo, my own but unknown son, and this honest bear. The rest you know,” he finished seriously.
“The rest, I will tell you,” announced Unc Nunkie, rising grandly in his place, and for the first time in Dorothy’s memory speaking fluently and rapidly.
“After Ree Alla Bad’s banishment and while I was still imprisoned, a son was born to the queen. Word of it was brought to me by one of the guards and I was greatly distressed Knowing that Mooj would destroy this boy as he had already destroyed his father and his grandfather, I bribed the guard with my gold watch and managed to escape. Going at night to Isomere’s apartment, I begged her to give me her infant son. This she readily agreed to do and would have come herself, had it been possible. But the queen was closely watched. So, fearing to rouse the guards and imperil us all, she gave me the boy, and bravely stayed behind. Resolved never to reveal my identity nor his, I made my way out of Seebania, traveling on and on until I came to the center of an impenetrable forest. Here I found a little house, and here I brought up Ojo in comfort and safety. When it was no longer safe or comfortable, I took him to the Emerald City of Oz.”
“No wonder you never talked,” sympathized Dorothy, with an admiring glance. “No wonder you became known as ‘the silent one.
“Worth it.” Lapsing into his old habit of brevity, Unc Nunkie smiled proudly over at Ojo. Then, worn out by his long, unaccustomed conversation, he sat
hurriedly down again.
“If I only had known,” grieved Ozma, leaning forward with a sorrowful expression. “You could all have been together long ago.”
“Adversity brought us friends and taught us courage,” announced Unc Nunkie unexpectedly.
“Why, so it has, so it has,” cried the little fairy’, cheering up at once. “You are all brave and courageous and I’m proud of you.”
“And how about us?” demanded Scraps, bounding indignantly to her feet. “Aren’t we brave?
Aren’t we to have any credit at all? Didn’t we try to save Ojo and become clocks into the bargain? Speak up, you cowardly old thing, and tell them how brave we
are.”
“Oh, let Dorothy tell it,” begged the lion bashfully.
“I’m still ticking all over.” So now Dorothy, urged from all sides, told how she and the Cowardly Lion and Scraps landed in the blue forest, were carried off by the rolling road and came at last to Dicksy Land, and how Reachard had guided them to Moojer Mountain. Then Ojo, with many shy glances at the beautiful queen who was his mother, described all his adventures with the gypsies, with Snufferbux and Realbad up to the time they all met in the wicked magician’s hut. It was hard to decide which of the
new countries visited and new characters encountered were strangest and most interesting. The Wizard felt that Reachard was far and away the most singular, Ozma could not keep her eyes off Roganda and Unc Nunkie thought Dicksy Land the queerest of all.
Talking, rejoicing and exclaiming over this and that, no one felt the least bit sleepy, though it was long after one o’clock. Indeed, Ozma still had many problems to solve and dispose of before they retired. Mooj was too powerful and dangerous a wizard to leave at large or even at small-as a sparrow, so he was transformed by the magic belt into one drop of water in the Nonestic Ocean, where surely he will do no harm. The old members of Realbad’s band were located by Ozma on a distant mountain plateau, changed into simple Winkie farmers and transported to a quiet valley near the Winkie River. The gypsies she banished from Oz altogether, sending them by her magic to wander through the countries of Southern Europe. But all of Ozma’s powers or the Wizard’s failed to reveal the whereabouts or fate of Realbad’s father, so, rising regally, the little sovereign proclaimed Ree Alla Bad and Isomere King and Queen of Seebania. The courtiers, servants,
citizens and all the inhabitants of the forest kingdom, released from the mischievous spells of Mooj, would waken in the morning to find the rightful and hereditary rulers on the throne of Seebania. Then and then only did the little fairy ruler decide to retire and accept the hospitality of Shamsbad for the night.
CHAPTER 21
Back to the Bandits’ Cave
ROGANDA, wakening first, rose noiselessly to her feet and stepping to the jeweled window pane looked out to see what kind of day it was going to be. The sun was shining softly on the sloping lawns and beautiful gardens of the castle and everything appeared so lovely that the unicorn could not restrain a neigh of pleasure.
“I have been invited to the capital as a guest of Ozma of Oz,” whinnied Roganda selfconsciously, as Snuffer, roused by her shrill neigh, lumbered over to the window. “Why not come too, big fellow?” she invited generously. “Ojo is safe and happy and there are many wonderful sights in the Emerald
City of Oz.”
“There are many wonderful sights here,” yawned Snuffer, giving himself a shake. “At first I thought I would return to my own country, but now I’ve decided to stay with Ojo always and take care of him-that is, if he still wants me.”
“Want you! Why, Snuffer, we’re friends!” Coming unexpectedly up in back of him Ojo flung both arms around the burly bear. “I hoped you’d stay,” he confided happily.
“Oh, Snufferbux, we’ll have such times together, hunting and fishing and exploring the forest! And what do you think?”
“What?” roared Snuffer, ready to explode with pride and satisfaction.
“Why, Realbad has promised to spend two months of every year in the robbers’ cave and we’re going to have a big celebration there to-day!”
“And does that please your Royal Highness?” sniffed the bear, giving Ojo a playful poke. “You won’t be hungry, you know, for we’ve eaten those silver apples.”
“I believe I could eat a little venison, though,” mused Ojo, closing his eyes reminiscently. “Oh, Snufficus, hasn’t everything turned out prime?”
“Splendid for you but not so well for us.” Joining the little group at the window, the Cowardly Lion
blinked sorrowfully up at the boy.
“I’ll miss you, Ojo,” gulped the lion tearfully.
“We’ll all miss you.” Overcome by his feelings, the good beast sat down and wept unrestrainedly, mopping his eyes with the tassel on his tail.
“Oh, please don’t cry,” begged Ojo, throwing his arm around the lion’s neck. “I’ll come often to see you, honestly I will!”
“But it won’t be the same!” roared the lion, stifling his sobs with great difficulty.”It won’t be the same!”
“Nothing is ever the same,” neighed the unicorn, switching her tail in a brisk and superior circle. “That is what makes life interesting.” And sounding three musical notes on her born, Roganda sprang lightly through the window to sample the dew on the rose leaves and nibble delicately at the lilacs. And Roganda is right, my dears. Nothing is ever the same one day as it is the next, but every day is interesting.
Knowing all these gay Oz folk as you now do, you can well imagine the scene in the old robbers’ cave in the blue forest. Transported there by Ozma’s magic belt, Ojo, Unc Nunkie, Scraps and Snuffer, Realbad and Isomere, Ozma and Dorothy, the Wizard and Roganda, made merry till long shadows fell over
the spruce trees and fires and candles had to be lighted.
Sitting around the leaping flames, with Snuffer playing on the old accordion and Realbad singing old bandit ditties, they spent the happiest evening of Qjo’s life. Even Unc Nunkie found his voice and joined lustily in the last chorus. Regretfully Ozma rose at last and said good-bye to her new found friends and subjects.
Then, before anyone could feel sorry at the necessary parting, the little fairy touched her belt and transported the Wizard, Dorothy, Scraps, the Cowardly Lion, Roganda and herself to the Emerald City. Unc Nunkie had decided to remain behind and act as Realbad’s chief adviser. Before she left, Ozma had given Unc Nunkie a box of wishing pills to take them back to Shamsbad, but they were not used until morning, for Realbad-though I suppose I must now say Ree Alla Bad-and his family were so content in the old cave that they decided to spend the night there.
And there, on the soft rug by the fire, Ojo lay as he had lain before, curled up in the arms of Snufferbux. Falling asleep at last, he dreamed of his new father and mother, of the stately castle of Shamsbad and the wonderful times he would have in the forests of Seebania.
Snuffer’s dreams were happy, too, for Realbad had promised that the bear should have this very cave to lie dormant in every winter of the year. And in the spring Realbad and Ojo planned to join him for two months and hunt, fish and live the lives of true woodsmen in the blue forest. Of course, I am terribly impressed by Ree Alla Bad the king, but I’m afraid I am going to miss Realbad, the bandit. How about you?
The End
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14 Tappy Town
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
