CHAPTER IV
THE HUMAN OCTOPUS STARTS UPON A MISSION
Across the minor sea whose blue, sparkling waters kissed the fair shoresof Queen Titania's fairy kingdom, about a hundred leagues as flies thecrow, there was another country where lived the notorious enchanterDragonfel.
A fairy messenger on a winged steed had conveyed information thatDragonfel intended to make trouble. But this was nothing new forDragonfel.
As a matter of fact, he was always trying to make trouble for everybody.Trouble was his specialty.
Dragonfel was not a nice man, and, if you had known him, you would nothave liked him. He cheated when he played croquet, and he was alwaysclaiming wickets that he never made. He did not go to Sunday School,either. If he had gone, he would not have put a penny in the plate forthe heathen. That was the kind of man he was.
Yet he was the possessor of fabulous riches, and he never would havemissed what he might have given away had he been charitably inclined,which he was not in the least.
No one else in the whole world was as wealthy as he. He owned acombination mine in which were diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds,and other precious gems galore, some of them as big as cobblestones.
It may be said with safety that Dragonfel was inclined to have his ownway, and carry out his own ideas. He was very rich, and had money toburn. When in the mood of celebrating some great event, such as theBurial of Good Intentions, or the Failure in Eden, instead of climbingon some rock to set off firecrackers, burn Roman candles, or dischargetoy cannon, he delighted in burning Bank Bonds, Legal Tenders, orGovernment Securities of large denominations, until the ashes of themwere declared a nuisance by his Board of Health, and with reluctance hewould discontinue his celebration.
As is usual in all such great operations there were panics at times,through alarms of fire, explosions, or escaping gas, when everybodytried to get out at once and but few could escape.
One day it would be the danger of being smothered, the next of beingroasted, the third of a cave-in where all would be buried alive, and sofrom hour to hour fear was in the way.
Distress in the Mine.]
There were mine-sprites whom he kept steadily at work, without regardfor Union hours, digging the gems out with their fingers.
The poor mine-sprites were greatly over-worked, and not the least regardwas paid to life or limb. The hours were long as they struggled atthe wheelbarrows or mine-carts, either pushing or pulling, with theirunreasonable loads piled high in the air, and with gems that in themarket would have brought enough to pay the debt of a Principalityslipping off, and rolling in the dust.
The palace of Dragonfel was a sight, and it would have made your eyesblink to see it. It was constructed entirely of diamonds, rubies, andemeralds all stuck together with cement. There were no opals, becauseDragonfel thought they were unlucky. If you could have pried off any oneof them you would have had enough to keep you in the greatest luxury allyour life. The famous Kohinoor was but a grain of sand compared to anyof them.
Back of the palace, and casting a frowning shadow over it, was a singletowering mountain whose top was an extinct volcano. No one could recallthe exact date of its last eruption, for Dragonfel stubbornly insistedupon running his business without an almanac. There were thosescientifically inclined who leaned to the theory that the volcano hadbeen the cause of all the gems in Dragonfel's mine.
Though it must have been a very long time since the volcano hadcelebrated with home-made fireworks, the enchanter had alwaysanticipated a further display, so he had taken the precaution to buyan old-fashioned fire-engine which was installed conveniently at handin a building over whose doors was the caption: NEPTUNE HOOK ANDLADDER CO. NO 1. In the building were plenty of rubber coats, boots,and red helmets. Everything was ready for an emergency.
There were some who declared that Dragonfel had some business connectionwith Beelzebub, but, whether this was true or not, he had the bad tasteto get himself up after the authentic portraits of that disreputableperson. He was very tall indeed, with almost a scarlet countenance,and he wore a long, flowing cloak that was a perfect match for hiscomplexion. He kept his hair rather long, and brushed it stiffly up, toconvey the impression that he had a natural horn.
He boasted a host of followers, all big, hulking black-guards ofgiant-like stature, with repulsive names such as Boundingbore, Mandrake,Wolfinger, Grouthead, Snoutpimple, and the like, and whenever they didsomething mean he rewarded them. The consequence was that they weretrying to do mean things all the time.
They were in charge of the mine, and the way they treated the poormine-sprites was awful. It was a good thing for them that the officersof the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children were unable toget around.
So on a certain day, following his usual custom, Dragonfel was making aninspection of the mine. He had descended through a secret passage, andwalked about the dark chambers lit here and there by gloomy flares oflight.
Guarded by the enchanter's cruel followers, the mine-sprites, poorlittle, emaciated, witch-like creatures in tattered clothes, weredigging away with their raw, bruised fingers at the sides of earth andexhuming precious stones. They were not allowed to use picks, for thatwould have made the work easy.
Diamonds, rubies, pearls, amethysts, emeralds, and other gems, everyone of them worth a king's ransom, lay piled about carelessly in heaps.The opals when they were discovered were thrown away. Sprites keptstaggering off with heavy loads in wheelbarrows.
Dragonfel surveyed the work with great satisfaction, and asked Groutheadwho was in general charge:
"When were they fed last?"
"Three days ago, kind master!"
Everyone called him "kind master," though whether this was in sarcasm ornot no one knew.
"See that they don't get anything to eat before the full week is up,"ordered Dragonfel. "And that reminds me of my own dinner. Boundingbore,tell the cook I want turtle soup, spiced venison pastries, appledumplings, strawberry shortcake, and iced lemonade with plenty ofcrushed raspberries in it."
The mouths of the poor little mine-sprites watered, and they smackedtheir lips, but Grouthead snapped his long snake-whip so that it soundedlike a pistol-shot, and they frantically continued digging away in theearth with their fingers.
Boundingbore flew to do Dragonfel's bidding, and Snoutpimple observed,rather timidly:
"The air down here is very bad, kind master!"
"That's good," said Dragonfel, with hearty unction. "It might make meill if I were obliged to remain, so as I have a proper regard for myhealth I think I will get right out into the open."
Attended by Mandrake, Snoutpimple, Wolfinger, and some of the rest, hewent on his way, while Grouthead snapped his whip to incite thefrightened, gasping, exhausted mine-sprites to further effort.
HELPLESSNESS IN THE MINE.]
When he came up out of the shaft Dragonfel gave a deep breath of reliefas his nostrils sucked in the bracing air that had a salt tang of thesea in it. Out in the harbor there tossed a galleon on the lazy swell--acraft built low amid-ship, and with both bow and stern curving high intothe air.
Dragonfel gazed off at it with interest, and remarked:
"It may come in handy soon if these Brownies and fairies continuelonger. They are getting altogether too good, and must be stopped. Butlet us go back to the palace to see if anything has happened in ourabsence."
Nothing else was to be seen on the wide water to draw his attention,except some mermaids who were above the waves, engaged in combing theirhair, who, to most people, are very interesting.
A little bird with very acute hearing listened intently to his wordsas it lightly balanced on the twig of a gumdrop tree, and then flewstraight across the sea to tell a fairy, who told the other fairies.Dragonfel with his big, clumsy, lumbering cohorts strode on to thepalace that was guarded by a Demon Usher--a queer, comical-looking chapwho with his wings much resembled a human grasshopper, and who halfflew, half walked.
He had thin littl
e wisps of hair sticking out from each side of hisnose, like the scanty whiskers of a cat.
The Demon Usher with hops and jumps escorted him to a magnificentthrone, and grovelled with smirks before him, while Dragonfel with whathe thought to be the quintessence of grace sank upon it, and thenarranged himself in what he imagined was a kingly posture.
"Well," he gruffly said, "has anyone been here since I've been gone?"
"No, kind master!" the Demon Usher hastened to assure him. "No one hasbeen here since the band and you remember them."
"Ah, that band!" repeated Dragonfel, with a shudder. "I can't get theirnotes out of my ears yet. But what have we here?"
A huge creature resembling an octopus, with great, staring eyes poppingfrom his head, and hundreds of fuzzy tentacles protruding in alldirections from his grotesque body, came crawling toward him.Straightway Dragonfel sprang up from the throne, while Wolfinger,Mandrake, Boundingbore, and Snoutpimple, who had assumed respectfulpositions at his sides, drew back in alarm.
But the Demon Usher gave a cackle of a laugh, and gleefully rubbed hishands together as though he were washing them with invisible soap.
"Have no fear, kind master!" said a thin, piping voice from somewherewithin the horrid creature's hulk. "Is not this a pretty disguise?"
"The Red Spirit, as I live!" cried Dragonfel, in a tone of admirationnot unmixed with relief. "You rascal, why have you chosen thismasquerade?"
"But is it not a clever one?" persisted the Red Spirit. "See, kindmaster, I can either compress or expand myself at will."
As he spoke he shrank to practical insignificance, and then almostimmediately afterward swelled out until it seemed that he would burst.
"Capital!" said Dragonfel encouragingly. "You can be of great assistanceto me. I have a mean task for you to do."
"The meaner the better, kind master!"
Dragonfel raised his arm, and pointed toward a window that gave a vistaof the far-off, smiling sea.
"Go, Human Octopus," he commanded, "and spy upon the Brownies andfairies!" Without another word the hideous object started to crawl offby means of his myriad tentacles, and all who were present watched hisconvulsive, eccentric movements with malicious satisfaction.
The Brownies and Prince Florimel; Or, Brownieland, Fairyland, and Demonland Page 5