L. Frank Baum - Oz 26 Read online

  “About as clear as custard,” sniffed Randy.

  “And has nothing happened since, sir?”

  “Well, nothing so exciting as all that” admitted Kabumpo slowly, “but one never can tell, one never can tell when something will happen again.” The

  Elegant Elephant was extremely pleased to have Randy address him as “sir.” It was the first time the boy had done so.

  “He’ll do!” chuckled Kabumpo delightedly, under his breath.

  “He’ll do! How would you like to go to dinner with me?” he added aloud, and before Randy could answer, tossed him lightly to his shoulder.

  “Now for haysake,” he cautioned gruffly, “for haysake, speak when you are spoken to and try to remember you are in the presence and on the back of Royalty.” Randy, seated comfortably on Kabumpo’s broad back, smothered his chuckles in the elegant Elephant’s velvet robe and Kabumpo billowed slowly and majestically down the gold-paved hallway to the royal banquet hall of the King.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Mist Tree

  Now Randy had not seen the royal family of Pumperdink since he had been caught by General Quakes and dragged into the throne room, and as Kabumpo swept grandly into the great dining hall the boy felt extremely nervous and uneasy. He was not sure that the King would be pleased to see him again, so he made himself as small as possible

  and peered inquisitively and anxiously over the Elegant Elephant’s left ear. “Oyez! Oyez! Way for the Elegant Elephant of Oz, Three bows and three bumps for Kabumpo!” cried the Prime Pumper of the Realm, pounding three times on the floor with his golden staff. At this, all the courtiers bowed their heads three times and tapped three times on the table with their knives. The royal family did not bow but nodded graciously as the Elegant Elephant took his place behind the King’s chair. The baby princess clapped her hands with glee and Pompa immediately leaned over to whisper to Kabumpo a joke he had just heard from the gardener. The long table twinkled with candles in golden holders and glittered with gold and silver dishes. Twenty footmen in white wigs and purple satin uniforms served a succession of savory viands to the brilliantly clad and royal company and no one noticed Randy at all. Everything, in fact, was so carefree and jolly that he stopped worrying and began to enjoy himself. It was hard to believe that the lovely Princess of Pumperdink had once been a wooden doll, and regarding her solemnly Randy tried to imagine how she must have looked and felt during that strange

  enchantment. The Queen of Pumperdink was lovely, too, and seemed scarcely old enough to have a son as tall as Pompadore. The Prince, on his part, looked exactly as Randy wished to look himself when he was grown, and after a long approving scrutiny-during which he decided to be as nearly like him as possible, to marry a princess as lovely as Peg Amy and have a little daughter as pretty as Pajonia-he turned his attention to the other members of the King’s family and household.

  Pompus, very fat and gorgeous in pearl-studded velvet, was seated at the head of the table. Beside him was a thin, sly-looking fellow whom he addressed as Kettywig. Randy was just wondering who he might be when Kabumpo, who had been telling Pajonia a story, called out in his booming voice:

  “Well, Brother Kettywig, how are you enjoying your stay in our castle and kingdom?”

  “‘Brother’!” gasped Kettywig, throwing down his napkin and turning angrily to the King. “Are you going to sit there and allow that great beast to call me ‘brother’?”

  “Oh, bosh and bother, now, what’s the difference?’ muttered Pompus, popping a whole biscuit into his mouth. “You are my brother, aren’t you? Well Kabumpo wants to make you feel at home. It’s just

  his little joking way, you know.”

  “Little joking way!” sputtered Kettywig. “There’s nothing little about the creature but his wits. Make me feel at home, indeed! How could I feel at home in a country where an elephant calls me ‘brother’?” Choking with indignation, Kettywig seized a goblet of water and swallowed it down at one gulp.

  “You wouldn’t feel at home anywhere but a pickle factory,” sniffed the Elegant Elephant, taking a platter of hot chicken from a footman and calmly passing it back to Randy. “Or in a mustard mine!” he finished scornfully. “Hah!” Randy almost held his breath at such audacity, but the King, after a wink at his favorite, went quietly on with his dinner, leaving Kettywig to recover himself as best he could. The royal orchestra had meanwhile struck up a lively tune so that further conversation was impossible and Randy, making short work of the chicken and candied fruit Kabumpo passed him from time to time, settled back with a little sigh of content. And when, a few moments later, a page ran in to announce that a traveling magician was without and desired to entertain the company, Randy’s interest and satisfaction knew no bounds.

  “And what is he without, pray?” inquired

  Kabumpo, as the King thoughtfully rubbed his chin.

  “He says he is without a peer, sir,” stuttered the page, casting uneasy glances over his shoulder.

  “How can a magician without a peer appear?” demanded Kabumpo argumentatively.

  “What nonsense!” roared Pompus setting down his tumbler. “Tell the fellow to come in, Pantleg. I, for one, would like to see a magician without a peer appear.” Hearing Pompus’ command and without waiting to be announced, the magician, with a long, lightning-like slide, shot into the banquet hall, coming to a neat stop beside the King’s chair.

  “Nishibis, the Wiz-ard!” piped Pantleg, jumping behind a pillar. As Nishibis bowed deeply right and left, Randy stood up to get a better look at the fellow. He was thin, shriveled up and ugly, his face almost hidden by dark spectacles and a peaked cap. Over his shoulder he carried a blue bag of tricks, and his voice when he spoke was high and irritating.

  “Now, where have I heard that voice before?” thought Randy, as Nishibis drew a yellow scarf from his sack and with strange mumbles and screeches began twirling it around his head. At the third twirl, the scarf became a small dragon. Spreading its wings it flew straight for little Princess Pajonia, and as she drew back in alarm it melted into a small

  yellow kitten that nestled cozily in her arms.

  “Bravo! Bravo!” cried Kettywig, and even Kabumpo looked pleased and curious. Next the magician pulled a bundle of twigs from the bag. Taking a candle from the table he set them afire and tossed them high in the air. A pleasant blue smoke floated through the banquet hall and presently the spirals formed into a tall blue mist tree that hung in the air directly before the King.

  “A magic flower for his Majesty and his Majesty’s family,” announced Nishibis. And sure enough, five fiery red roses were blooming on the wizard’s tree.

  “You have forgotten me!” snorted Kabumpo indignantly. “Is your magic not strong enough to tell you that I, too, am a member of the King’s family?”

  “A rose for an elephant! Ha, ha!” jeered Kettywig. “Make it a cabbage, my good wizard.” While Kabumpo glared and Pompus looked embarrassed, Nishibis shrugged his shoulders.

  “My magic grows roses only for Royalty,” he explained insolently. “And if your Highnesses will pluck these flowers, a great good fortune will befall.”

  “Probably scorch our fingers,” observed Prince Pompadore, who did not care much for magic, having had some disagreeable experiences with it.

  “Oh, come on, let’s pick them,” begged Peg Amy eagerly, and as the King and Queen were equally curious to know what would happen, they all leaned forward and each picked a rose, even little Princess Pajonia. As the five stems snapped, there were five sharp explosions and Randy, leaping to his feet, saw the mist tree dissolving into a thick black cloud. But of the King and his family he saw nothing. They had vanished with the wizard’s roses, and confronted by five empty chairs, the courtiers of Pumperdink gasped with fright and consternation.

  “A great good fortune has befallen. Ha, ha! Ha, ha!” croaked the magician, and whirling round and round he swung his blue bag over his head.

  “Good fortune? Good fortune? For whom?�
�� screeched Kabumpo, lashing his trunk back and forth and swaying like a ship in a storm.

  “For Kettywig!” shouted Nishibis, pointing to Pompus’ brother, who had risen and was facing the company with great composure. “Kettywig is next in succession. Ketty is KING! The King is dead, long live the King!”

  “Nothing of the kind!” trumpeted Kabumpo. “The King has only disappeared. Bring him back at once, you miserable, meddling, magic-working monster! Treason! Treeson-mist treeson!” boomed the Elegant

  Elephant at the top of his trunk. At his mighty cries, General Quakes and the royal guards burst through the doorway, all the courtiers jumped to their feet and a scene of the utmost confusion ensued. Only Kettywig remained calm. As the guards, moving forward none too willingly, attempted to seize the wizard, Kettywig spoke:

  “Stop!” commanded the King’s brother, in a commanding voice. “I am now your ruler. From now on you take orders from me. Understand?”

  “Oyez! Oyez! I hereby pronounce Kettywig King of Pumperdink,” quavered the Prime Pumper in a feeble voice.

  “Oyez! Oyez, you would say that to save your silly neck.” Snatching the old statesman into the air Kabumpo shook him violently to and fro. “How dare you call this pitiful plotter King?” Turning to the cowering courtiers he roared in a loud voice: “Rise up! Rise up, and force these impostors to restore our rightful rulers!”

  “The first one who touches me shall vanish!” warned Nishibis, showing his yellow teeth and scowling so horribly that the guards fell back in horror; and when Kabumpo himself lunged forward, Randy tugged him frantically by the ear.

  “Be careful! Be careful!” begged the little boy in an earnest voice. “If you disappear, who is to help

  the King?”

  “Remove that elephant!” commanded Kettywig, pounding on the table with his fist. “Remove him, dip him, put him in irons!”

  “I’ll attend to him,” hissed the wizard, and as the guards made a half-hearted motion toward their old friend, Kabumpo, Nishibis snatched a second bundle of twigs from his sack and lighting them hurled the blazing circlet straight at the Elegant Elephant’s head. But he had not counted on Randy. Leaning forward the little Gilliken neatly caught the blazing bundle and before they could take effect hurled them straight back. Now Randy had aimed at Nishibis, but in the extreme hurry and excitement of the moment he overshot his mark and the hissing, crackling bundle fell straight upon the head of Pumper, who melted away before their eyes, leaving nothing but his gold staff and spectacles. Yes, the King’s chief adviser was now as gone as the King of Pumperdink himself.

  Before the company recovered from the shock, before the guards could take another step, the Elegant Elephant threw up his trunk and with a bellow of rage that blew out all the candles charged furiously

  from the banquet hall, never stopping till he reached his own apartment. The guardsmen, urged into action by dishes, cups, plates and spoons flung by Kettywig, were not far behind and as Kabumpo rushed into his own quarters Randy heard the door slam and two iron bolts slip into place. Next all the shutters were banged to from the outside and heavy feet pounded up and down the passageways.

  “Well !” panted the Elegant Elephant, leaning wearily against the wall, “I suppose now, my boy, you are satisfied. Something has happened, something has happened at last. Ugh! Ahhh! Why didn’t I disappear and go out with the people I care for instead of staying here with these frightened fools and cowards?”

  “Don’t you like me at all?” asked Randy in a small voice. Kabumpo, suddenly recollecting Randy’s bravery, cleared his throat apologetically.

  “Of course I like you,” he answered gruffly. “I like you a lot. Didn’t you save me from vanishing? But what good will it do?” he gulped in the next breath. “My whole family has been wiped out and the throne stolen by a couple of plotting rascals. What can I do against magic?”

  “Well, you did something before,” Randy reminded

  him quickly. “You saved the whole kingdom from disappearing.

  “But last time we were only threatened. This time everybody has actually vanished.”

  “You haven’t,” persisted Randy, shuddering a little as a loud scream echoed along the corridor.

  “That’s so!” mused Kabumpo thoughtfully. “That’s so.!” His eyes began to twinkle and snap with excitement. “I’m still here and I’ll fool them yet. I did something before and I’ll do it again. We’ll get out of the country at once, find some magic and return, and then let King Kettywig see who is strongest!”

  “But we’re locked in,” whispered Randy anxiously. “Are we?” Sniffing scornfully, Kabumpo lifted Randy to the floor and began to make hasty preparations for departure. Into a small leather bag he put the largest and most valuable of his jewels and donned his darkest and sturdiest robe. Giving Randy a small jeweled sword that had once been Prince Pompa’s, he bade him lie down and get a little rest. Randy buckled on the sword but was far too excited to sleep. The castle was growing quieter and as the great clock in the tower tolled one, Kabumpo touched Randy on the shoulder. The boy wondered how they would get out without waking the guards, but

  he did not wonder long. Kabumpo, after a few whispered instructions, lifted Randy up to the glass transom over the door. While the Elegant Elephant held him by the heels he cleverly slipped back the bolts. Then, without a sound and without encountering a single guard, Kabumpo trod softly down the golden hallways and slipped out through a side door of the castle.

  CHAPTER 4

  In Foliensby Forest

  The night was dark and moonless and Kabumpo sped like a flying cloud through the silent city and sleeping villages of Pumperdink. Then, leaving the King’s Highway, he turned east into the tangled forest domain of Faleero, the old and ugly princess whom Pompa had so nearly been forced to marry. In the center of the forest the Elegant Elephant stopped, and wrapping Randy in an old robe he had brought along for the purpose urged him to sleep until morning.

  “No one will look for us here,” yawned Kabumpo, leaning wearily against a giant oak, and before the

  boy had time to answer he was asleep and snoring

  so tremendously that leaves fell in perfect showers

  upon Randy’s upturned face and a family of squirrels

  in the hollow trunk fled for their lives. For nearly

  an hour the boy lay thinking of the strange happenings

  in Pumperdink. He wondered curiously

  how it felt to disappear and where he had heard the

  magician’s voice before. While he was trying to remember

  he, too, fell asleep and dreamed he was

  flying on a yellow dragon to the Emerald City of Oz.

  A great rustle and splash wakened him next morning,

  and rolling out of Kabumpo’s old robe he saw

  the Elegant Elephant vigorously bathing in a shallow

  forest stream. The sun was shining somewhere

  up above, but the trees were so close together that

  only a pale green light came flickering down into

  the forest.

  “Want a shower?” inquired Kabumpo cheerfully, and as Randy joined him he sent a spray of water high into the air.

  “No thank you, sir.” Shivering a little, Randy, who was no fonder of washing than most boys, dashed a little water on the tip of his nose and dipping his fingers into the icy water hastily wiped them on his handkerchief.

  “Now, don’t call me ‘sir’,” blustered Kabumpo, giving

  himself a shake that sent water spraying in every direction. “We’re just comrades from now on, my boy, comrades in misfortune. Anyone brave enough to catch a wizard’s bundle of tricks, needn’t call anyone ‘sir.’ Hah !” Expelling his breath in a great whistle, Kabumpo beamed on Randy, and Randy, blushing with pleasure at such praise, beamed back.

  “Do you really think I am brave?” asked the boy. Kabumpo nodded vigorously. “But why do you ask me that?” he went on conversationally. “Do you especially
want to be brave?”

  “It’s awfully important to be brave,” answered Randy, brushing back his thick hair. “Don’t you think so, Kabumpo ?”

  “Well,” mused Kabumpo, rubbing himself briskly with a bunch of leaves, “if you are an important person you ought to be brave, but if you’re not, I can’t see that it makes much difference. But I do think,” the Elegant Elephant stopped rubbing and looked sharply at Randy, “I do think you should tell me a bit more about yourself, and I am not at all sure you should accompany me on this journey. No telling what may happen. And after all it is not your affair, but mine, to save the Kingdom of

  Pumperdink.”

  “Oh, don’t say that,” begged Randy, throwing his arm around Kabumpo’s trunk. “You helped me. Now let me help you. Please! Please!”

  “But what about your family?” demanded Kabumpo. “You really should go home, you know.”

  “Not yet!. Not yet!” pleaded the boy, tightening his hold on the Elegant Elephant’s trunk. “I want to see all of Oz before I do that.”

  “M-mmm!” mumbled the Elegant Elephant, beginning to weaken. “Well, it will do you no harm to see a little of the country, but it’s my guess you are no common mountain boy, used to goats and goatherds. You have too much style for that.” Randy grinned a little at this, and, as Kabumpo had finished drying himself, he climbed into a tree and helped him adjust his grey velvet traveling cloak. Then, as they were both by this time terribly hollow, they began to look around for something to eat. The Elegant Elephant breakfasted quite comfortably on several barrels of leaves, but Randy had to satisfy himself with a cake of chocolate Kabumpo had slipped into his pocket the night before.