L. Frank Baum - Oz 25

by Pirates In Oz

  “Stop! Wait!” he called breathlessly. “Don’t move or you’ll knock me off!”

  “Well, I’ve waited five hundred years so what’s a few minutes longer,” rumbled the ogre cheerfully. “But my nose is itchy young one and pretty soon I’ll have to pull out my arm and scratch it. How long must I stand here to please you?”

  “Oh, just till my flying pig comes back,” Peter told him, waving wildly for Pigasus, who was circling hesitantly overhead, to descend. The pig fluttered uncertainly down.

  “Just who enchanted you?” called the Read Bird, who had recovered from the shock of the explosion and was listening to the conversation with close attention and interest. “And what is your name.

  if any?”

  “Og!” roared the giant, putting back his head so he could get a better view of the Read Bird. “I, you must know, am the Ogre of Ogowon. The witch who lives on the next island objected to my snoring so she cast a spell that shut me up in this mountain.”

  “Dear, dear!” murmured Roger. resting his bill in his claw.

  “If you call it ‘dear, dear’ to be shut up in a mountain for five hundred years, you’re a fool!” shouted the ogre, so ferociously that Roger spread his wings and made a wild swoop for the Crescent Moon.

  “Climb up! Climb up, Peter, before he smashes us both!” begged Pigasus, his fat sides quivering like jelly. “Oh; why did we ever come here?”

  “Wait” whispered the boy. “I have an idea, Pigasus. He said he wanted to help us and I believe he can! Do you really want to do something for me?” he called in a shaky voice, as the ogre continued to glare wrathfully after the Read Bird.

  “Didn’t I say so?” grumbled the ogre, whose temper was as ogreish as his stature.

  “Well, can you blow hard?” called Peter boldly. “Our ship is becalmed at the foot of this mountain and if you give us a start for the south it would be a great help.”

  “Poof, that’s easy,” boasted the ogre, as Peter jumped on the pig’s back. “I’ll give you a minute to get aboard, and then, ha, ha! I’ll blow you into the next ocean.” With an agonized squeak, Pigasus shot into the air and fairly coasted down to the Crescent Moon, afraid to look back for fear the mountain would fly apart and destroy them. Dropping on the deck, Peter panted out directions and explanations, Samuel Salt and Ato pulled up the anchor and hoisted sail and then breathlessly they all waited for the ogre to keep his word.

  “We’ll be swamped or sunk!” groaned Roger, hiding his head unclOr Ato’s old blue shirt. “Never trust an ogre. That’s my advice.”

  CHAPTER 16

  The Rise of the Cresent Moon

  IT seemed at first that Roger might be right, for the fierce and furious blast that suddenly struck the ship lifted her a foot out of the water and then sent her hurling south like a balloon before a hurricane. Indeed, it took all hands to keep the Crescent Moon to her course, and with Peter, Ato and the pirate hanging to the wheel she bucked and plunged like a broncho that had never been ridden. Pigasus and Roger, crouching in the cabin, expected the ship to fly to pieces any minute and shouted dismally to one another above the snap of her sails and the creak of her timbers. But the Crescent Moon had been stoutly built and did not go to pieces but sped with the

  swiftness of a torpedo for the coast of Ev.

  “We’ll be smashed!” shivered Peter, as the cliffs and rocks of the mainland loomed ahead.

  “This will knock eight bells out of us, all right,” panted the pirate, gritting his teeth grimly. “Better be ready to jump, boys!” Ato, after one glance at the dangerous looking coast, closed his eyes tight and holding his fat middle tried to think of all the pleasant stories he had ever read or heard of. But the Ogre of Ogowon must have been as long of sight as he was of breath, for, on the very edge of Ev and destruction, the wind ceased and the ship slid quietly and peacefully into a pleasant bay.

  “What a blow! What a blow!” groaned the King, leaning weakly against the rail.

  “What a blower, you mean, don’t you?” sighed Peter, sinking in a limp heap to the deck. “Whew, what a wind! Oh go on well, that’s a good name for that ogre. I thought we’d go on and on and never stop. Come on out, boys. It’s all over now!” “Are you sure?” quavered the Read Bird, sticking his head through a porthole. “S-say, what’s that ship? Ato! Ato! There’s the Octopus, or I’m a walleyed woodcutter!” And the Octopus it certainly was, for the ogre had blown them straight to Menankypoo.

  “And there’s the Sea Lion!” bellowed Samuel Salt. “Look! Over there-with red sails! Shiver my liver and shatter my shins, mates, how did these rascals ever get together?”

  “Now, Sammy! Now, Sammy!” Ato slapped the pirate hard between the shoulders. “Rough, bluff and relentless, remember! Shiver your timbers and all the rest of it.”

  “Oh,” cried Peter, getting wearily to his feet. “Isn’t this doggone? Do we have to fight before we even get our breath?”

  “There’s nobody aboard the Octopus,” reported Roger, who had flown across to investigate, “and your ship’s deserted, too, Master Salt, but everything’s shipshape.”

  “Battle shipshape,” muttered the pirate darkly. “Shiver my liver, we’ll just go ashore and see what these rogues have to say for themselves. And what’s all this light and shine on the water around here, anyway?” Peter had already noticed the singular glow on the waves, but as nobody could explain or account for it, they tossed over the anchor and lowered the jollyboat.

  “I’m not much of a fighter,” admitted Pigasus, settling in the bottom of the boat,” but I can carry you out of danger’s way if the battle goes against us, Peter.”

  “Yes, and you and Roger can drop rocks on the pirates and Octagon Islanders,” proposed the boy, who had brought along two daggers besides his gun.

  “I’ve some books for that, too,” sniffed Roger, with a reassuring wink. Samuel Salt said nothing, but from his stern expression and the way he fingered the edge of his scimitar, Peter felt that the buccaneers were due for a large surprise. Landing without difficulty they scrambled up the beach and hurried on to the city. There was not a soul in the streets and the castle, when they reached it, was quite silent and deserted.

  “‘Menankypoo!’” wheezed Ato, leaning over to read the jewelled letters on the door. “‘Menankypoo. Quiet, please!’ That’s a funny name for a country, and it’s surely quiet enough. Do you suppose our men have conquered the place, Sammy?”

  “Looks that way,” answered the pirate, noting the disorder and confusion everywhere in the castle. “But where have they gone and what mischief are they up to now?” As if to answer his question, faint cries and halloos came echoing up from somewhere below. Following the feeble outcries, Peter, Ato and the pirate, afoot preceded by Roger and Pigasus, awing, clattered down the steps of the castle, down one flight, down another, till they came to the cellar, and still down, till they reached a damp and dismal dungeon at the very bottom. A dim light was burning, and looking through the gold bars in the dungeon door they could see two figures tied together on the floor.

  “Maybe they can tell us what happened,” whispered Peter. “Shall we go in? Gosh, Skipper, they look like pirates!”

  “They are pirates,” breathed Samuel Salt pressing his face against the bars. “Bless my boots and buckles if it isn’t Bins and Peggo! Ship ahoy, mates! What’s the trouble here?”

  “Help! Help!” cried the pirates, their voices weak and hoarse from much calling. Turning the rusty key, Samuel, followed by his shipmates, strode into the dungeon. With his hands on his hips Samuel looked scornfully down at the discomfited pair.

  “Ha! So this is what comes of mutiny,” mused the captain of the Crescent Moon softly. “Got yourselves caught and captured and trussed up like fowls on market day. So this is your idea of pirating. Who planned all this? Who’s captain and where’s the rest of the crew?” The pirates winced at every word of their former leader.

  “They’ve gone to conquer Oz,” explained Binx in a weak whisper.
/>
  “To conquer Oz?” roared Samuel, bristling with surprise and displeasure. “What right have pirates to fight ashore? Who gave them that idea?

  “The Gnome King,” groaned Peggo, making an unsuccessful attempt to roll over. “That sneaking, thieving little rogue of a Gnome King, dim his portlights! We made him chief so he would show us the way to Oz and he promised to share all its riches and treasure, but he means to have everything himself. He’s got a magic stick and a Cuckoo Clock Wizard Man. He made us march and drill and work like slaves. And now he’s taken our men and those silly Octagon Islanders and gone off without us-gone and left us to starve in this dungeon like dogs.”

  “Did you say the Gnome King?” exclaimed Peter, dropping on his knees beside the pirates. “Why, I thought Ruggedo was dumb and could not speak.

  “Dumb!” raged Peggo bitterly. “Why, he can talk faster and badder than any pirate I ever shipped with. Dumb? Why he’s got enough magic to conquer this whole country and before another day he’ll be Emperor of Oz. Emperor of Oz, that little bunch of bone and whiskers.

  “So that was the chief you picked in my place,” sighed Samuel Salt, shaking his head mournfully.

  “And that was the King my subjects chose in mine,” wheezed Ato, rolling his eyes up to the cobwebbed ceiling. “Well, well, and what do you think of it, Peter?”

  “I think somebody had better start after them,” exclaimed Peter in a husky voice. “I think somebody had better warn Ozma before they reach the Emerald City. Gosh, this is about the tenth time Ruggedo has tried to conquer Oz. Doesn’t he ever learn anything? When did he start? How is he going to cross the Deadly Desert?”

  “This morning,” Peggo told him dolefully. “That Clock Man has some magic device for crossing the desert and they expect to be in the Emerald City about eight bells.”

  “Eight Bells!” shouted Peter, jumping to his feet in a hurry. “I’ll have to start right off. How on earth shall I ever get there in time? How on earth and how ever?”

  “Not on earth at all. On me,” snorted Pigasus, trotting confidently forward. “I can fly that distance and we may beat them yet.”

  “Oh, Piggins, that’s a grand idea!” And before Ato or the pirate could do anything to stop him, Peter jumped on the pig, and Pigasus, spreading his white wings, soared off like a small pink dirigible for

  Oz.

  “It’ll do no good,” moaned Peggo dismally. “What can one small boy do against that villain? The standing stick will bring him to a halt and Ruggedo will capture the city in spite of him.”

  “Oh, why did we ever let him go?” gasped Ato, clasping and unclasping his fat hands.

  “Shall I fly after them?” asked Roger, who had grown terribly fond of Peter and even felt a sort of tolerant affection for the pig.

  “No! Wait! What, oh, what shall we do first?” panted Ato, seizing Samuel by the sleeve.

  “Untie these ropes and we’ll help you,” begged Binx hoarsely.

  “Shiver my liver! A fine help you’ve been!” rumbled the pirate severely. “I’ve a notion to leave you as you are forever.”

  “Not that! Not that!” The buccaneers screamed so piteously that Samuel finally relented and untied their bonds.

  “Let’s get back to the boat,” sighed the pirate unhappily. “I can’t think properly ashore. Let’s

  get

  back to the boat and try to get our bearings!” As they trudged slowly and mournfully back to the Crescent Moon, Peggo and Binx told them all that had been happening, how they had first captured

  Menankypoo and tossed the inhabitants into the sea, how Ruggedo had appeared and promised to help them conquer Oz, and how his magic stick and miserable temper had made life unbearable for them and for the Octagon Islanders, who had joined them later.

  “Did he take the women and children to Oz, too?” asked Ato, his eyes snapping with anger and indignation. “Where are the women and children of the Octagon Isles?”

  “He shut them up in some cave or other so they would not tell his plans,” explained Binx sourly. “You ought to see your Islanders now, Mr. King. A sorrier, shabbier bunch of rebels I’ve never set my eyes on, except perhaps my own shipmates.”

  “Serves ‘em jolly right,” scolded the Read Bird savagely. “The idea of leaving an island like ours and a King like you. It will be a good lesson for them, Ato.”

  “Yes, but learning it may kill them,” groaned the softhearted sovereign. “They may be destroyed by magic. We may never see any of them again, Roger. Think of that!”

  “Then we’ll just ship along with Captain Salt and enjoy ourselves,” said the Read Bird unfeelingly. “I’ll be a sea bird and you a seacook from now on. What’s the matter with that?” Ato only groaned and Samuel smiled wryly at Roger’s efforts to cheer the poor King. He was too worried to join in the conversation himself and his only thought was to get aboard the Crescent Moon and try to think things out,, calmly and collectedly. Before doing so he sent Peggo and Binx off to the Sea Lion, for Samuel did not yet feel kindly enough toward these two rascals to have them on his own ship. And much subdued and sobered by their experiences with the Gnome King, the pirates were glad enough to obey him. Once aboard the Crescent Moon Samuel rushed to the cabin, and flinging himself down on his berth tried to think of some way to stop Ruggedo before he reached the capital of Oz, and to help Peter before the Gnome King’s magic destroyed him.

  “If it were just a sea battle we might stand a chance,” worried the pirate. “But with only a ship how are we to reach the Emerald City, and with no magic of our own how are we to fight magic? Shiver my bones, I’d give my head for that ogre!” Dropping his chin in his palm Samuel stared gloomily across at Peter’s berth. Where was his brave little shipmate and cabin boy now? Facing what dangers and perils with no one to help him? These forlorn and dismal thoughts were suddenly halted by the sight of a dark object beside Peter’s berth. Leaning over to examine it more closely Samuel saw that it was the flask Peter had fished out of the sea. The side, with its annoying label, DO NOT OPEN, was uppermost, and as Samuel bent over to pick up the bottle, the cork, loosened by the continual bumps and bangs it had suffered on the voyage, fell out. Immediately a silvery blue smoke spiraled upward, filling the cabin, curling out of the portholes and wrapping the entire ship in a misty blue veil. Throwing down the cask, convinced that some dire calamity would overtake them, Samuel dashed out on deck. The Crescent Moon rose up like a giant gull and, flapping her sails like wings, flew lightly over Menankypoo.

  “Quick, head for the Emerald City!” squalled Roger, the first to recover. “This is what comes of calling your ship the Crescent Moon, Master Salt. The Crescent Moon has riz!” Grabbing the wheel Samuel quickly told about the mysterious flask.

  “How do you know we’ll stop when we come to the Emerald City?” shuddered Ato, blinking

  at the I

  clouds careening dizzily by. How do you know we won’t drop any minute and break to pieces?”

  “We don’t” croaked Roger raising his claw solemnly, “we don’t know anything at all!” Hopping

  on Ato’s shoulder he stared in giddy consternation at the countries and cities whirling beneath their bow and at the dangerous looking desert ahead. “If we drop on this desert,” chattered the Read Bird, dancing up and down with nervousness, “all will indeed be over. Great goosefeathers, here we go!”

  CHAPTER 17 Pigasus in Oz

  WHILE all this was happening aboard the Crescent Moon, Peter was rushing recklessly toward Oz. For a pig, Pigasus flew uncommonly fast and before Peter had time to plan or think of a way to outwit Ruggedo, they had crossed Ev, flashed over the Deadly Desert and entered the kingdom of Oz.

  “Do you see the Gnome King’s army

  Marching anywhere below?

  They have to pass this way

  To reach the Capital, you know;

  Fly closer to the ground

  So we can look for them. Fly low!”

  called Peter, as Pigasus swept
over the Yellow Land of the Winkies.

  “I see nothing of an army. But here’s a silver castle,” snorted Pigasus, coasting down a little breeze, his blue eyes twinkling with pleasure and excitement.

  “It’s not a silver castle;

  It’s a castle built of tin;

  The Emperor of the Winkies

  Lives down there, when he’s in.

  Nick Chopper, the Tin Woodman

  You have heard of him I s’pose,

  He’s made of tin outside and in And never needs new clothes,”

  explained Peter aloud. “Darn these verses,” grumbled the boy to himself. “I sound like a nursery rhyme book.” Riding Pigasus did have its disadvantages and it was rather provoking when Peter felt so worried and serious to keep spouting rhymes every time he opened his mouth. “Oh, well, it won’t last much longer,” thought Peter consolingly, as the pig shot over the Tin Woodman’s palace. Peering between his white wings Peter strained his eyes for a glimpse of the pirates or Octagon Islanders. But without seeing a sign of the Gnome King or his allies, they flew over the entire Winkie Country, passing the Scarecrow’s cornear residence, Jack Pumpkinhead’s cozy pumpkin cottage and coming at last to the Fairy Capital