L. Frank Baum - Oz 24 Read online

  The Yellow Knight Of Oz - Oz 24 L. Frank Baum

  by Ruth Plumly Thompson

  This book is dedicated to my very dear and very little Aunt Gertrude! [Ruth Plumly Thompson, 1930]

  List of Chapters Chapter

  1 Sir Hokus Plans a Quest

  2 The Knight’s First Adventure

  3 Queen Marcia of Marshland

  4 Ploppa and Sir Hokus Escape

  5 Concerning a Camel

  6 Tuzzle at the Court of Oz

  7 The Cruise of the Skyrocket

  8 A Golden Princess

  9 Sir Hokus Meets an Old Friend

  10 The Deserted City

  11 The Knight Loses His Camel

  12 Camy at the Sultan’s Court

  13 King of the Quix!

  14 The EnchantedForest

  15 Five Travelers Meet

  16 Speedy in Samandra

  17 The Restoration of Corumbia

  18 The Return of the Yellow Knight

  19 For the Hand of a Princess

  20 The Marriage of Marygolden

  CHAPTER 1

  Sir Hokus Plans a Quest

  “I’AM minded said Sir Hokus of Pokes, drawing aside the green curtains and looking out over the sparkling towers and spires of the Emerald City of Oz-” ‘Tarn minded to go on a quest”

  “Quest?” shouted Scraps, the Patchwork Girl, handspringing over the sofa, capering up to the Knight, and collapsing in front of him with a giggle. “What manner of quest, Sir Knight? Request or

  conquest?

  “Methinks we’ll go upon a quest

  East, North, or South, Sir Hoke, or West?

  To slay a dragon? Or what ho!

  What hey! What say? When do we go?”

  “We!” Dropping the curtain, Sir Hokus looked sternly at the Patchwork Girl, then striding over to a small sofa sat solemnly down beside Dorothy, a little girl fromKansasand a Princess of Oz. The Knight and several more of Dorothy’s friends were spending the evening in her cozy apartment in Ozma’s palace. “Wait till Monday,” smiled Dorothy, looking up from a book she was reading. “Wait till Monday and I’ll go with you.”

  “Next week a questing we will go; I’ll break the news to those below,”

  chortled Scraps with a gay bounce.

  ‘Well, don’t break all the furniture while you’re about it,” warned Dorothy, as the Patchwork Girl vaulted easily over the sofa and fell through the door. “Oh, I do hope my blue dress will be finished an time,” exclaimed Trot, clasping her hands eagerly.

  “Can I take Hank?” inquired Bettsy Bobbin, who was extremely fund of the little mule she had brought frornArnerica. At this, Sir Hokus looked thoughtfully at his boots.

  “In my day,” mused the Knight mournfully, “maidens remained quietly at home, doing household tasks, embroidering, watching from

  towers, and so on-”

  “How stuffy!” sniffed Bettsy Bobbin, sliding carefully into his lap, which his armor made rather hard and uncomfortable. “How old-fashioned. Now don’t be quaint! What fun is it watching from a tower? And this embroidery and so on that you talk about ruins the eyes, and you know it!”

  “Well, well,” rumbled Sir Hokus, looking uneasily into Bettsy’s bright eyes, “I see no signs of ruin here, but let us speak of this to-morrow,” and setting Bettsy gently on the floor, he bowed to all three girls and went clanking down the gold-flagged hallway muttering unhappily to himself. “Odds fish and funnels! Why did I ever mention this quest? Before morning every man, maiden, child, and kitten in the castle will know of it. Go to, now! It is too bad! Go too, now! Why, that’s just what they’ll all want to do.

  ‘Twill be a parade and no quest at all. By my Knight shirt, it is too much!” Reaching his great stone chambers, Sir Hokus leaned against his four-post bed and stared gloomily at a picture of his friend the Scarecrow on the opposite wall. And his fears, let me tell you, were well-founded, for news travels fast in the Emerald City, especially good news. In less than an hour there was not a soul in that whole merrie castle who had not heard from Scraps that the Good Knight of Oz was about to fare forth upon an adventure.

  In his tower room, Tik Tok, the machine man, marched sternly to and fro, practicing thrusts and parries with an old cane. The Soldier with Green Whiskers began to brush his beard vigorously and try to recall what he had done with his sword, his musket, and his military brushes. The little Wizard of Oz, in his laboratory back of the throne room, took down his bag and began rubbing his hands briskly as be sorted out the magic appliances best suited to a perilous adventure. Even Dorothy’s pink kitten stopped washing her face long enough to decide which bow she would wear upon this grand and exciting occasion.

  Now Oz, as nearly everyone knows, is the happiest Kingdom out of the world, a Kingdom so unfashionable, informal and jolly, that Queen Ozma thinks nothing ofjumping rope, and even the most important court officials play tag and croquet in the gardens after tea. Perhaps this is because the Ruler of Oz is a girl, a fairy, to be sure, but such an unassuming, gracious fairy that no one feels frightened or embarrassed by her power or importance. Yet, Ozma of Oz is both powerful and important. Important enough to govern the four great countries of her realm wisely and well, powerful enough to overcome all her enemies and keep her people contented and happy. Of all the fairy cities in enchanted countries anywhere, there is none to compare with Ozma’s capital. Its streets sparkle and twinkle with emeralds; the towered green castle, set in a lovely flowering park, shines and glows with the same precious gems, casting a radiance that can be seen for miles on all sides. And to her castle 0zma has called the most celebrated and interesting of her subjects. In a magical country like Oz, where wizards, witches and fabulous monsters still abound, there are certain to be unusual and amazing characters. But Ozma is fondest of Dorothy, Bettsy and Trot, three young girls from theUnited States, who reached theEmerald Cityat different times after bewildering adventures in herfairyKingdom. All three found life there so exciting and gay that they have never returned toAmericaat all, and living in the palace with the Queen they advise her in all important matters of state, and accompany her on all of her visits and adventures. Dorothy, having come first, has had more strange experiences than almost anyone else, and has discovered a great many of the Oz celebrities. On her first trip she found the Scarecrow, a delightful straw-stuffed person who spends half of his time in the capital and the other half in a splendid corn-ear castle near the Royal Residence of his friend the Tin Woodman. Nick is a woodman entirely of tin, another of Dorothy’s discoveries, and so kind and depend-able that Ozma has made him Emperor of the East and Ruler of the Winkles. Nick’s only worry is that his joints will rust, and no one thinks it odd that he carries an oil can wherever he goes and often stops in the middle of a conversation to lubricate his jaws. Tik Tok, on the other hand, is made of copper and was manufactured by a firm of magicians to be a slave to the King of Ev. The machine man is guaranteed to last a thousand years and can walk, talk, think and do everything but live, Dorothy found Tik Tok locked in a cave, and releasing the copper man, brought him to the Emerald City, where he is greatly admired and respected. Like Tik Tok, the Patchwork Girl is of magic origin, too, having been intended for a servant by her owner. Made from an old patchwork quilt, stuffed with cotton by a wizard’s wife, Scraps was brought to life by the wizard’s Powder of Life. But so much cleverness and fun got into Scraps’ make-up that she refused to work and, taking an unceremonious leave of her master, ran off to the capital. Wherever Scraps happens to be, there is always plenty of fun and excitement. Then, along with the interesting people in the Emerald City, there are many amazing animals, everyone of them able to talk as fast as you can. There are the Cowardly Lion, the Hung
ry Tiger, an Iffin, a glass cat, and so many more it would never do to start telling you about them. Indeed, when I start talking about the celebrities at Oz-ma’s court I never do know when to stop. To describe them all would take about three days and as you probably have not that long

  to listen, and know most of them as well as I do, I’ll not try, but shall get back to Sir Hokus of Pokes and his quest. Not much is known of the early history of this brave Knight except that for five centuries he was imprisoned in the Kingdom of Pokes, until he was rescued by Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion not so long ago. Since then he has lived in the capital and has been of great assistance to Ozma in the wars and uprisings that disturb her peaceful Kingdom from time to time.

  To some, five centuries might seem to make a man a bit ancient, but in Oz, where no one ever really grows old, it is just middle-aged, and Sir Hokus can hold his own with any of the young fellows in the castle. Hearing a great buzz and clatter beneath his windows, the Good Knight looked out and saw fifty of Ozma’s gay courtiers drilling under the lime-drop trees with more than half the palace servants treading earnestly behind them. Learning from Scraps that Sir Hokus was about to start upon a quest, they, too, had decided to accompany him, In the royal stables the excitement was no less. The Sawhorse-Ozma’s little wooden steed, magically brought to life, was quite certain he would be chosen for the Knight’s charger.

  “Who,” whinnied the Sawhorse proudly, “can travel so fast or so far as I, without food, rest, or water?” The Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger exchanged knowing glances, for they felt that Sir Hokus would much prefer a soft seat upon their backs. Hank, Bettsy’s mule, explained to everyone in a loud bray that if Bettsy Bobbin were going he was going, and the voices of the Comfortable Camel and the Doubtful Dromedary grew positively shrill when anyone suggested that they might be left behind.

  “Hokus is our dear discoverer. He found and brought us to Emerald City and would not think of going on a quest without us,” quavered the Comfortable Camel, rolling his eyes appealingly at Hank.

  “You eat too much,” sniffed the little mule. “And hee, haw Hee, haw You wobble too much!”

  “You bray too much,” put in the Doubtful Dromedary, coming to the rescue of his friend. “And don’t you get hee haughty with me, sir!” And so they argued back and forth, till even the family of mice in the hayloft knew Sir Hokus was going upon a quest, and the tiniest member had resolved to slip in the Knight’s boot and go, too.

  Nothing else was talked of at dinner that night in the palace, and so interested were Ozma, Dorothy, and the others, that they scarcely noticed that Sir Hokus himself said never a word and ate hardly a mouthful. Indeed, right in the-middle of an argument as to the advisability of taking water-proofs or just heavy coats, the Knight tiptoed off to his own apartment and flung himself wearily down on a stone bench. “It’s not that I don’t want them!” groaned Sir Hokus sadly, “but how, with an army like that, can I hope to rescue a damsel, slay a dragon, or challenge a giant to mortal combat? And how shall I know that I am still brave and fit to do battle with fabulous monsters? The Wizard’s magic will overcome all our difficulties, Scraps’ verses will make even the enemy laugh, and with so many maidens, how can I hope for a proper fight? I would not mind just Dorothy or Ozma, but everyone in the castle! Odds black and blue fish! It is too much!” Folding his arms, Sir Hokus glared at a large calendar on his wall, then suddenly smote his hands joyfully together. Three days before Monday, the day set by Dorothy for the quest. Three days!

  “Hah!” breathed the Knight gleefully, and again, “Hah!” Snatching up his battle-axe and seizing his second best helmet from its hook behind the door, he trod softly into the hall and down a little-used stairway to the garden.

  And while preparations for his quest went merrily forward, Sir Hokus himself, without even one sandwich or extra suit of armor, marched grimly through the night.

  CHAPTER 2

  The Knight’s First Adventure

  WALKING rapidly, Sir Hokus soon reached the outskirts of the Emerald City and paused on the edge of a small wood to consider the next step of his journey. In which of the four countries of Oz would he be most likely to find a maiden in distress, a monarch in need of his trusty sword, or a monster ferocious enough to engage In mortal combat?

  Should he go to the North into the purple land of the Gillikins and offer his services to Joe King, and Queen Hyacinth? Or into the red Quadling Country where Glinda, the Good Sorceress, ruled over the turbulent tribes of the South? To the West stretched the blue realm of the Munchkins with its wonderful Sapphire City and newly appointed sovereign, Cheeriobed the First, Should he go there? To the East lay the yellow domain of the Winkles ruled over by the Tin Woodman, and after looking thoughtfully in each direction, Sir Hokus turned his steps toward the East. It was in the Winkle Country that he had been first discovered by little Dorothy and in this strange and enchanted Empire he hoped to learn something of his former history. During his five-century imprisonment in Pokes, Sir Hokus had lost all recollection of his early life and since his residence in the Emerald City he had been too occupied and interested to bother. But now, treading through the starlit wood, he began to think of the long ago days of his youth, to wonder whence he had come, who he really was and what great purpose had sent him riding upon that first quest on a faraway and but dimly remembered morning. Of his father or his father’s castle he could recall nothing. He only remembered meeting, not far from the postern gates, a strange, black Knight who had harshly challenged him to battle. Sir Hokus had accepted the challenge at once and unseated the stranger with a clever thrust of his lance. Instantly the black Knight had sprung up, and crying in a loud voice, “live, wretch, for centuries in the stupidest Kingdom in Oz,” had disappeared, and Sir Hokus himself, though of course that was not his name at that time, had been immediately transported to Pokes and there he had been held captive for long forgotten ages until Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion had come there by chance and all three had managed to escape together.

  “Strange,” mused the Knight, shaking his head sorrowfully, “strange that I can remember nothing more of it,” The longer he thought, the less he could think of, and finally he gave it up altogether. “After all, does it matter?” he murmured, throwing back his shoulders and standing a trifle more straight. “A Knight’s but a Knight and can but be bold!” Cheered by the thought of his own boldness, he peered about hopefully for signs of a dragon or stray gundersnatch. “What ho!” he roared lustily, more to keep himself company than because he expected any answer. “What ho, there! What HO!”

  “What who?” quavered a shrill voice from the branch of a tree just ahead, and a big, yellow owl blinked disagreeably down at him. “What who-ooo are you, and what ‘Ho’ is this you are calling?” he demanded sulkily. Ah, my good bird,” Sir Hokus bowed politely, “perchance you can direct me to a maiden in distress, a monarch in need of my sharp sword, or a monster whose head I might haply dissever “Dissever?” screeched the owl, ruffling his feathers. “Well, did you ever! There are no maidens, monarchs, or monsters in this wood, and I advise you to go home and mind your own business.” “It is a Knight’s business to render assistance to others,” Sir Hokus informed him sternly. “Oh, you’re a Knight are you?” The owl opened his eyes wider. “Well, I’m a Knight, too, a night owl, and you may render me a service if you will.”

  “Name it!” Eagerly Sir Hokus drew his sword. “You can go away,” sniffed the owl fretfully, settling down on the branch. “Go away, go along with you!” And as Sir Hokus stood uncertain whether to clip a few feathers from its tail to teach it a lesson in courtesy or just go off, the bird closed its eyes. “Goodnight, Knight,” it yawned sleepily.

  “Goodnight, night owl,” answered Sir Hokus, deciding that after all the creature was not worth a quarrel. “Odds bodikens! I might as well be home in bed for all the adventures I’m having,” he sighed, moving mournfully along in the moonlight. “Not a wild beast has crossed my path, not a witch, a ro
bber, or even one little dragon! Hah, Hoh, HUM!” With another great yawn, the Knight removed his heavy armor, hung it on a near by branch, and wrapping himself in his gray cloak lay down under a tree and slept soundly till morning. The chatter of the yellow birds awakened him about six, and buckling on his armor he quenched his thirst in a clear forest brook. As there were no breakfast bushes or afternoon tea trees about he marched resolutely onward. The forest grew denser at every step and he was often forced to hew out a path with his battle-axe, but about noon he came to a narrow footway shut in on both sides by giant trees and heavy underbrush. Following this for several miles, Sir Hokus was suddenly cheered by a bright shaft of sunlight ahead. Hurrying forward joyfully, he was about to step out into the open when a heavy band fell upon his shoulder.

  “Halt!” cried a deep voice. “Halt! Stop! And other words meaning surrender!”

  “Surrender?” bellowed the Knight, with a furious bounce. “Stand back, knave! Unhand me, villain! Who dares cry ‘halt’ to Sir Hokus of Pokes?”

  “Getsom and Gotsom!” answered the same deep voice. “Getsom and Gotsum! Mud Guards to her Majesty, Queen Marcia of Marshland.”

  “Mud Guards!” sputtered Sir Hokus, staring at the two without enthusiasm. “Well, in faith an’ ye look it!” For Getsom and Gotsum were so spattered with mud and streaked with mire that scarcely any of their dark skin was visible. They wore rough swamp grass skirts and little else, and their long hair was tangled and matted and hung half over their sullen faces. As Sir Hokus continued to stare, the second Mud Guard addressed him: “Good-morrow!” he croaked, jerking his fore-lock. Then turning to his companion he whispered hoarsely, “Be careful how you treat him, Getsom, old fellow. Remember he is the King!”