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L. Frank Baum - Oz 25
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Pirates In Oz - Oz 25
L. Frank Baum
by Ruth Plumly Thompson
Chapter 1
The Outcast Gnome
ALL morning the little gray peddler had trudged along the rocky road without encountering a single customer. In his sack he carried a supply of dark spectacles which he traded for food, old clothes, a night’s lodging or whatever he could coax from the good wives of the countryside. The sun was hot and scorching and the peddler’s temper, never of the best, mounted with each step he took up the stony pathway. Finally, flinging down his pack, he stamped both feet, shook both fists, and drawing a small writing tablet from his pocket began scribbling so fast and furiously that the point flew off his pencil at the fifth word. Ripping off the sheet, he threw both it and the pencil into a pepper bush and scowled fiercely at a crow that had settled on the branch of a dead tree near-by. Paying no attention to his terrible look,
the crow flew down, picked up the piece of paper and holding it in one claw began to read the scribbled words.
“Haw, haw! Caw, caw!” chortled the crow, rocking backward and forward with amusement. “I know who you are, old bowlegs! You’re the old Gnome King and bad as you ever were. Haw, haw! You’re a caution, Rug! Where did you learn all this mad language anyway? Trying to conquer Oz and outwit the Wizard?” Tucking the paper under his wing, the crow stared insolently at the ragged elf who had once been King of all the Gnomes and whose last attempt to capture theEmeraldCityhad brought him to the sorry condition of wanderer and outcast. Ruggedo made no answer to the crow’s saucy speech, not because he couldn’t think of plenty of things to say, but because it was impossible for him to say them. Ruggedo was speechless and the chest that had once sparkled with precious gems and heavy gold chains now bore only a rudely printed placard: “Kindly help the dumb.” But though the old gnome could no longer speak, he could still act. Seizing a jagged stone he hurled it at the crow with such speed and suddenness that the latter stopped crowing in a hurry and flew screeching into the air. Left to himself, Ruggedo began to weep from pure vexation and self pity, wiping his tears on his long white whiskers and kicking his heels vindictively against the rocks.
“Every one is against me!” reflected the gnome bitterly. “Every one, every two, every three, and everybody! Even the birds crow over me and make my life miserable and all because I want to regain my own kingdom and punish that wretched Ozma of Oz for defying and enchanting me!” This was not quite true, but Ruggedo’s thoughts were as crooked and twisted as his crooked little body. He could not think straight nor honestly and would not admit, even to himself, that most of his troubles were his own fault.
As ruler of the gnomes he had been one of the richest and most important of monarchs, his underground dominions were vast, grand and awe inspiring, and all the precious metals and jewels an emperor could wish for had been quarried from the mines by his patient little subjects. Besides all this, Ruggedo had had many magic treasures that enabled him to overcome his enemies and pass the time pleasantly between battles. But this foolish King had not been satisfied with his own possessions.
Across the Deadly Desert from his dominions lay the wonderful Land of Oz, ruled over by Princess Ozma, a fairy much more important and powerful than himself. Again and again Ruggedo had tried to vanquish Ozma and conquer her kingdom. But good magic is always better than bad, and each time Ozma had triumphed over the Gnome King and his wicked allies. Naturally kind hearted and gentle, Ozma had not wished to destroy her enemy utterly. Once he had been dipped into the Fountain of Oblivion and forgot for a season his evil plans and schemings. But this did not last long and soon he was again storming theEmeraldCity, Ozma’s capital. This time he lost not only his kingdom, but was banished, as well, to a lonely island in theNonesticOcean. Miraculously escaping from this island on an old pirate ship, Ruggedo had made a last desperate attempt to enslave the Oz folk. But this scheme, too, had proved vain, and the silence stone flung by Peter, aPhiladelphiaboy visiting in Oz, just at the moment Ruggedo was consigning Ozma and all the celebrities to the bottom of the sea, had struck the Gnome King on the forehead and rendered him speechless. The spell cast by the silence stone would keep. Ruggedo dumb for seven years, and thinking this punishment enough Ozma had let him go.
For five years now the former Metal Monarch had wandered up and down Oz, begging, peddling, and stealing. Finally, homesick and discouraged, he had bribed an eagle to carry him across the Deadly Desert and had thus returned to his own country in Ev. But Kaliko, appointed by Ozma to rule in his stead, would not even buy one pair of spectacles from his former master, and calling his bodyguards had had Ruggedo thrown out of his underground castle in short order. So now the dejected little gnome was on his way to theKingdomofRinkitinkwhich lay just beyond Gnoman’s Land bordering theNonestic Ocean. It was ruled over by a king so cheerful and merry that Ruggedo felt he could not only sell him a
lot of spectacles, but hoax the old monarch into giving him a position at court as well. The mere thought of King Rinkitink made Ruggedo stop weeping, and taking another pencil from his pocket he began sharpening it briskly. Writing messages upon his tablet was the only way Ruggedo could make himself understood and he wanted to be quite ready to converse with his jolly old neighbor.
“Why, I may even be able to steal some of his magic,” reasoned Ruggedo, squinting down at the long point he had put on his pencil. Thinking of magic always put him in a good humor and picking up his sack he proceeded more hopefully along the rocky road. In about an hour he had come to a narrow crevice between two rocks and squeezing through found himself on the edge of a small and unknown country. Sure that the mountain pass would lead directly into Rinkitink, the Gnome King paused uncertainly. On the maps in his underground castle, he had often studied the kingdoms near his own dominions. To the north lay the Vegetable Kingdom, Rinkitink, and the Land of the Wheelers. Ruggedo had been travelling north and had visited all these places, but the country he was now entering was entirely new and unfamiliar to him. As far as he could see stretched a flowering garden. Its posies were old-fashioned and quiet in color: faded pinks, light blues and subdued lavenders. The trees and grass seemed more gray than green, and over the whole hung a silvery haze that gave an air of dreamy unreality to the scene. Ruggedo much preferred the flash and glitter of his jewelled caverns and looking contemptuously at the pale yellow palace rising from the center of the garden, he wondered what kind of king it might contain. The palace was surrounded by a high rose-grown wall and as Ruggedo continued to stare, a door in the wall opened and out stepped a stately courtier in a fine white wig. He had a large sign under his arm. This he hung on the golden door knob, and after looking up and down the road, yawned tremendously and went in, shutting the door behind him.
Extremely curious as to just what the sign might say, Ruggedo jumped down from the rocky ledge and went scurrying across the garden. It was strangely quiet and still; the birds hopping about in the branches of the trees neither twittered nor sang and Ruggedo’s own footsteps sounded so loud and startling that by the time he reached the castle he was uneasily proceeding on tiptoe. Quite out of breath, for he had hurried considerably, he squinted up at the notice on the door. Then he gave a bounce of pure astonishment.
WANTED: A DUMB KING
stated the sign in calm pink letters. Ruggedo could have screamed with surprise and shock, but this being impossible, he bounded into the air and kicked both heels together, his wicked little face crimson with excitement.
“Can it be that at last I am to have some good fortune?” exulted the old gnome, his red eyes snapping with anticipation. “I am a king; for the present, I am dumb. Surely, then, this must mean me!” Snatching down the sign he tucked it under his
arm and opening the door in the wall walked boldly into the courtyard.
CHAPTER 2
The StrangeKingdomofMenankypoo
A Double line of guardsmen, in pale yellow uniforms and three cornered hats, stretched from the gates to the castle door, and as Ruggedo burst into the courtyard they raised their guns threateningly. But for all his badness, the Gnome King was really quite brave and though no larger than a small child, marched resolutely between the lines without a glance at the guardsmen. Astonished at such boldness, the soldiers let him pass. At the castle door itself Ruggedo paused, for gleaming on the smooth white panels were eight jewelled words: “This is theKingdomofMENANKYPOO. Quiet, please.”
“Suits me!” sniffed Ruggedo, and straightening the placard on his chest, he confidently kicked open the door. His entrance caused quite a commotion and stir in the yellow throne room. The courtiers and ministers of Menankypoo, who had been drowsing peacefully in the depths of the great yellow armchairs, sprang to their feet and looked askance at the ragged figure in the doorway, and Ruggedo as curiously looked back. At first glance they seemed usual and every day sort of fellows, but as a tall, pompous dignitary with a gold staff hurried forward he realized his error. Here, surely, were the oddest people he had encountered in the whole thousand years of his existence, for the Menankypoos did not talk at all. But their foreheads, which were high and broad, lit up with long sparkling sentences, each message as clear and distinct as words flashed upon an electric sign.
“I am Kapoosa, Major Dumbo of Menankypoo,” announced the fellow with the staff, tapping three times on the floor. “who are you?” Blinking up at the Major Dumbo and almost too startled to answer, Ruggedo held up the sign he had taken from the castle gate and pointing to the words, “Dumb King,” waited for Kapoosa to continue the conversation.
“So-you-are-a-dumb-king?” Rather slowly the words formed on Kapoosa’s forehead and the Menankypoos, looking curiously over his shoulder, spelled out all sorts of uncomplimentary remarks and questions. To these Ruggedo paid no attention whatever, but taking out his tablet and pencil scribbled hurriedly: “what are the duties of the king?”
“The king is not supposed to do anything.” This answer, which presently appeared on the Major Dumbo’s forehead, exactly suited the lazy little Gnome King. So pushing imperiously through the crowd of Menankypoos he made his way to the throne, felt its cushions fastidiously and finding them soft and numerous settled down contentedly and wrote: “I’ll take the job.” The Menankypoos looked doubtfully at one another as they read the words on Ruggedo’s tablet, and started such an agitated conversation among themselves that the room became fairly electric from the flashes. While they were thus engaged, Ruggedo suddenly thought of something else.
“What became of your last king?” he scrawled uneasily.
“He fell in the sea. As it is customary for the King of Menankypoo to do nothing he continued to do nothing, and consequently sank to the bottom.
That is all.” Ruggedo thoughtfully considered the fate of Menankypoo’s monarch as it was spelled out on Kapoosa’s forehead. At first he was tempted to inquire why they had not fished the king out of the sea, for in fairy countries sovereigns are not destroyed or killed by such simple accidents. But realizing that this would deprive him of the kingship, he merely pursed up his lips and nodded understandingly. The Menankypoos had by this time come to some agreement and after a short conference with them Kapoosa stepped closer to the throne.
“You must now pass the dumb tests,” read Ruggedo, after a long, earnest stare into the grave face of the Major Dumbo, and without enlightening him any further the Menankypoos filed but of the throne room.
“Now what?” thought the puzzled gnome. “I cannot talk and am therefore dumb, but there may be more to it than that. It will be hard for a fellow as smart as I am to pass for a dunce. Still, I must manage it somehow.” Pushing back his straggling locks, Ruggedo pressed his hands to his temples, closed his little red eyes and thought and thought and presently reached a very clever conclusion. “As I am naturally bright and sharp, to pass this test I must do the exact opposite to what I would naturally do,” he decided, reasonably enough. Feeling that he had already solved the problem, Ruggedo sank back among his cushions and waited for what was to come. He was not long in suspense for almost at once a kitchen boy in heavy wooden shoes darted through a door. Before Ruggedo had time to think he jumped hard on the Gnome King’s favorite foot.
“Brine and brimstone!” raged Ruggedo, but alas! only to himself, for he could not utter one sound. Hopping on the other foot he made a savage swing at the kitchen boy, but the boy was already half way to the kitchen. The Menankypoos, peering through curtains and doors, nodded their heads with satisfaction and approval. Noting this out of the corner of his eye Ruggedo grew calmer. Recalling that kingdoms are not gained without some trouble and discomfort he sat down, his injured foot stuck straight out before him. Scarcely had he recovered from the shock of the first test before the great central doors of the throne room banged open and in stepped the Yellow Guardsmen. They stamped forward stolidly, six abreast, and Ruggedo, clutching the arms of his throne, tried to make up his mind what to do or what not to do. The sensible thing would be, of course, to write “HALT!” on his tablet and hold it up before they advanced any further. But one did not pass dumb tests by acting sensibly, so shutting his eyes and gritting his crooked teeth Ruggedo did nothing.
Thump! Thump! Thump! On came the Yellow Guardsmen; they reached the throne and without pause or stop tramped right over the little Gnome King and on out through a door at the back. There were a good many guardsmen and by the time they had all passed, Ruggedo was perfectly flat on his back. Only the number and softness of the cushions saved him from being completely squashed. Rather slowly Ruggedo straightened up, feeling his nose see if it was still in place, rubbing his stomach, and turning his neck stiffly and experimentally from left to right. As he was trying to bend his knees the tap of the Major Dumbo’s staff made him look up. Before the throne stood six regal ladies, gowned with extreme elegance, but all exactly alike.
“Your Highness will now pick out the Royal Princess,” flashed Kapoosa in one bright sentence. By this time Ruggedo was so mad he could hard breathe and the eyes he turned on the six royal maidens snapped so red and spitefully that they took a step backward. But ruffled and enraged as he was, Ruggedo still wanted to be king. Long experience had taught the gnome that princess were usually plainer than their ladies in waiting. So after a careful squint all down the line, he pointed to the loveliest of the Menankypoo maidens This one he felt sure could not be the real princess. His choice seemed to delight the Major Dumbo, who jumped lightly into the air and clicked both heels together.
Leaning forward to see what he was saying, Ruggedo read with some satisfaction:
“This person has passed the dumb tests. He cannot talk, he cannot act he cannot think. He will make a splendid king! Long live the King of Menankypoo!” As this sentence lit up the forehead of the Major Dumbo, all the other courtiers hurried into the court room bowing. and smiling. “Long live the King,” flashed from face to face.
“I won’t live long if I have to pass many more days like this,” thought Ruggedo gloomily, but pulling himself together he bowed first to the 1eft, then to the right and nodded haughtily, or as haughtily as a fellow who has just been trampled upon can nod, to his future subjects. Kapoosa was the first to reach the throne. Handing the king a pair of golden dumb-bells he explained in a series of flashes that if Ruggedo wanted anything he had merely to raise one or the other of the dumb-bells and a page would at once appear to carry out his commands. The Menankypoos, he went on to say, did not desire an ambitious monarch who was always making wars and conquests. They preferred him to mind his own business and to allow them to meditate and converse in quietness and peace. All this took some time, and when the Major Dumbo had finished, Ruggedo, who was quite worn out with so much sight reading, seized his tablet and scrawled imperiou
sly. “Go! I wish to be alone.”
With little nods and shrugs the Menankypoos withdrew and as the last yellow robe swished through the doorway Ruggedo raised one of the golden dumb-bells. To the yellow page who sprang up apparently from nowhere he handed a slip of paper on which he had written. “Bring four breakfasts and a bottle of liniment, at once!” The breakfasts were brought and served by a very dumb waiter, the liniment by the page. Breakfast was Ruggedo’s favorite repast and after he had finished all four and directed the page to rub the back of his neck with the liniment he heaped a pile of pillows under his head and stretched out luxuriously on his new throne.
“I dare say it’s going to be dreadfully dull and dumb here,” meditated the Gnome King, drowsily waving his attendants away, “but at any rate I shall have a good rest. Hah, hoh, hum!” After his long years of banishment and the weary miles of tramping, the throne of Menankypoo felt so soft and. delicious that Ruggedo fell asleep and never waked at all for three and a half days. At the end of the third day, he arose and began to take a little interest in his kingdom. The royal robes of the former monarch were taken in to fit his funny, crooked little figure, and decked out in shiny satin coat and knee breeches, and wearing a crown at least a foot high, he strutted proudly about the castle and up and down the streets of the silent city. But even so, Ruggedo was very far from happy.
It was bad enough not to be able to talk himself, but never to hear anyone else talk was dreadful indeed. The very animals in Menankypoo were dumb animals and the gnome, used to the talking beasts of Ev and Oz, kicked the castle cat from sheer disappointment when he found that it could say nothing, not even “Mew!” The Menankypoos sat about the pleasant gardens holding endless conversations in their strange sign language or gazing dreamily into space. They were easygoing and pleasant enough fellows, but their life seemed fearfully dull to the restless little Gnome King.