“True — true!” exclaimed the Boolooroo, enthusiastically. “Get to work at once and make yourselves long sharp sticks, and then we will attack the enemy again.”
So the soldiers and citizens all set to work preparing long sharp sticks, and while they were doing this Rosalie the Witch had a vision in which she saw exactly what was going on inside the City wall. Queen Trot and Cap’n Bill and Button-Bright saw the vision, too, for they were all in the tent together, and the sight made them anxious.
“What can be done?” asked the girl. “The Blueskins are bigger and stronger than the Pinkies, and if they have sharp sticks which are longer than ours they will surely defeat us.”
“I have one magic charm,” said Rosalie, thoughtfully, “that will save our army; but I am allowed to work only one magic charm every three days — not oftener — and perhaps I’ll need the magic for other things.”
“Strikes me, ma’am,” returned the sailor, “that what we need most on this expedition is to capture the Blueskins. If we don’t, we’ll need plenty of magic to help us back to the Pink Country; but if we do, we can take care of ourselves without magic.”
“Very well,” replied Rosalie; “I will take your advice, Cap’n, and enchant the weapons of the Pinkies.”
She then went out and had all the Pinkies come before her, one by one, and she enchanted their sharp sticks by muttering some cabalistic words and making queer passes with her hands over the weapons.
“Now,” she said to them, “you will be powerful enough to defeat the Blueskins, whatever they may do.”
The Pinkies were overjoyed at this promise and it made them very brave indeed, since they now believed they would surely be victorious.
When the Boolooroo’s people were armed with long, thin lances of bluewood, all sharpened to fine points at one end, they prepared to march once more against the invaders. Their sticks were twice as long as those of the Pinkies and the Boolooroo chuckled with glee to think what fun they would have in punching holes in the round, fat bodies of his enemies.
Out from the gate they marched very boldly and pressed on to attack the Pinkies, who were drawn up in line of battle to receive them, with Cap’n Bill at their head. When the opposing forces came together, however, and the Blueskins pushed their points against the Pinkies, the weapons which had been enchanted by Rosalie began to whirl in swift circles — so swift that the eye could scarcely follow the motion. The result was that the lances of the Boolooroo’s people could not touch the Pinkies, but were thrust aside with violence and either broken in two or sent hurling through the air in all directions. Finding themselves so suddenly disarmed, the amazed Blueskins turned about and ran again, while Cap’n Bill, greatly excited by his victory, shouted to his followers to pursue the enemy, and hobbled after them as fast as he could make his wooden leg go, swinging his sharp stick as he advanced.
The Blues were in such a frightened, confused mass that they got in one another’s way and could not make very good progress on the retreat, so the old sailor soon caught up with them and began jabbing at the crowd with his stick. Unfortunately the Pinkies had not followed their commander, being for the moment dazed by their success, so that Cap’n Bill was all alone among the Blueskins when he stepped his wooden leg into a hole in the ground and tumbled full length, his sharp stick flying from his hand and pricking the Boolooroo in the leg as it fell.
At this the Ruler of the Blues stopped short in his flight to yell with terror, but seeing that only the sailorman was pursuing them and that this solitary foe had tumbled flat upon the ground, he issued a command and several of his people fell upon poor Cap’n Bill, seized him in their long arms and carried him struggling into the City, where he was fast bound.
Then a panic fell upon the Pinkies at the loss of their leader, and Trot and Button-Bright called out in vain for them to rescue Cap’n Bill. By the time the army recovered their wits and prepared to obey, it was too late. And, although Trot ran with them, in her eagerness to save her friend, the gate was found to be fast barred and she knew it was impossible for them to force an entrance into the City.
So she went sorrowfully back to the camp, followed by the Pinkies, and asked Rosalie what could be done.
“I’m sure I do not know,” replied the Witch. “I cannot use another magic charm until three days have expired, but if they do not harm Cap’n Bill during that time I believe I can then find a way to save him.”
“Three days is a long time,” remarked Trot, dismally.
“The Boolooroo may decide to patch him at once,” added Button-Bright, with equal sadness, for he too mourned the sailor’s loss.
“It can’t be helped,” replied Rosalie. “I am not a fairy, my dears, but merely a witch, and so my magic powers are limited. We can only hope that the Boolooroo won’t patch Cap’n Bill for three days.”
When night settled down upon the camp of the Pinkies, where many tents had now been pitched, all the invaders were filled with gloom. The band tried to enliven them by playing the “Dead March,” but it was not a success. The Pinkies were despondent in spite of the fact that they had repulsed the attack of the Blues, for as yet they had not succeeded in gaining the City or finding the Magic Umbrella, and the blue dusk of this dread country — which was so different from their own land of sunsets — made them all very nervous. They saw the moon rise for the first time in their lives, and its cold, silvery radiance made them shudder and prevented them from going to sleep. Trot tried to interest them by telling them that on the Earth the people had both the sun and the moon, and loved them both; but nevertheless it is certain that had not the terrible Fog Bank stood between them and the Pink Land most of the invading army would have promptly deserted and gone back home.
Trot couldn’t sleep, either, she was so worried over Cap’n Bill. She went back to the tent where Rosalie and Button-Bright were sitting in the moonlight and asked the Witch if there was no way in which she could secretly get into the City of the Blues and search for her friend. Rosalie thought it over for some time and then replied:
“We can make a rope ladder that will enable you to climb to the top of the wall, and then you can lower it to the other side and descend into the City. But, if anyone should see you, you would be captured.”
“I’ll risk that,” said the child, excited at the prospect of gaining the side of Cap’n Bill in this adventurous way. “Please make the rope ladder at once, Rosalie!”
So the Witch took some ropes and knotted together a ladder long enough to reach to the top of the wall. When it was finished, the three — Rosalie, Trot and Button-Bright — stole out into the moonlight and crept unobserved into the shadow of the wall. The Blueskins were not keeping a very close watch, as they were confident the Pinkies could not get into the City.
The hardest part of Rosalie’s task was to toss up one end of the rope ladder until it would catch on some projection on top of the wall. There were few such projections, but after creeping along the wall for a distance they saw the end of a broken flagstaff near the top edge. The Witch tossed up the ladder, trying to catch it upon this point, and on the seventh attempt she succeeded.
“Good!” cried Trot; “now I can climb up.”
“Don’t you want me to go with you?” asked Button-Bright, a little wistfully.
“No,” said the girl; “you must stay to lead the army. And, if you can think of a way, you must try to rescue us. Perhaps I’ll be able to save Cap’n Bill myself; but if I don’t it’s all up to you, Button-Bright.”
“I’ll do my best,” he promised.
“And here — keep my polly till I come back,” added Trot, giving him the bird. “I can’t take it with me, for it would be a bother, an’ if it tried to spout po’try I’d be discovered in a jiffy.”
As the beautiful Witch kissed the little girl good-bye she slipped upon her finger a curious ring. At once Button-Bright exclaimed:
“Why, where has she gone?”
“I’m right here,” said Trot’s voice
by his side. “Can’t you see me?”
“No,” replied the boy, mystified.
Rosalie laughed. “It’s a magic ring I’ve loaned you, my dear,” said she, “and as long as you wear it you will be invisible to all eyes — those of Blueskins and Pinkies alike. I’m going to let you wear this wonderful ring, for it will save you from being discovered by your enemies. If at any time you wish to be seen, take the ring from your finger; but as long as you wear it, no one can see you — not even Earth people.”
“Oh, thank you!” cried Trot. “That will be fine.”
“I see you have another ring on your hand,” said Rosalie, “and I perceive it is enchanted in some way. Where did you get it?”
“The Queen of the Mermaids gave it to me,” answered Trot; “but Sky Island is so far away from the sea that the ring won’t do me any good while I’m here. It’s only to call the mermaids to me if I need them, and they can’t swim in the sky, you see.”
Rosalie smiled and kissed her again. “Be brave, my dear,” she said, “and I am sure you will be able to find Cap’n Bill without getting in danger yourself. But be careful not to let any Blueskin touch you, for while you are in contact with any person you will become visible. Keep out of their way and you will be perfectly safe. Don’t lose the ring, for you must give it back to me when you return. It is one of my witchcraft treasures and I need it in my business.”
Then Trot climbed the ladder, although neither Button-Bright nor Rosalie could see her do so, and when she was on top the broad wall she pulled up the knotted ropes and began to search for a place to let it down on the other side. A little way off she found a bluestone seat, near to the inner edge, and attaching the ladder to this she easily descended it and found herself in the Blue City. A guard was pacing up and down near her, but as he could not see the girl he of course paid no attention to her. So, after marking the place where the ladder hung, that she might know how to reach it again, Trot hurried away through the streets of the city.
Trot’s Invisible Adventure
All the Blueskins except a few sentries had gone to bed and were sound asleep. A blue gloom hung over the City, which was scarcely relieved by a few bluish, wavering lights here and there, but Trot knew the general direction in which the palace lay and she decided to go there first. She believed the Boolooroo would surely keep so important a prisoner as Cap’n Bill locked up in his own palace.
Once or twice the little girl lost her way, for the streets were very puzzling to one not accustomed to them, but finally she sighted the great palace and went up to the entrance. There she found a double guard posted. They were sitting on a bench outside the doorway and both stood up as she approached.
“We thought we heard footsteps,” said one.
“So did we,” replied the other; “yet there is no one in sight.”
Trot then saw that the guards were the two patched men, Jimfred Jonesjinks and Fredjim Jinksjones, who had been talking together quite cheerfully. It was the first time the girl had seen them together and she marveled at the queer patching that had so strongly united them, yet so thoroughly separated them.
“You see,” remarked Jimfred, as they seated themselves again upon the bench, “the Boolooroo has ordered the patching to take place to-morrow morning after breakfast. The old Earth man is to be patched to poor Tiggle, instead of Ghip-Ghisizzle, who has in some way managed to escape from the Room of the Great Knife — no one knows how but Tiggle, and Tiggle won’t tell.”
“We’re sorry for anyone who has to be patched,” replied Fredjim in a reflective tone, “for although it didn’t hurt us as much as we expected, it’s a terrible mix-up to be in — until we become used to our strange combination. You and we are about alike now, Jimfred, although we were so different before.”
“Not so,” said Jimfred; “we are really more intelligent than you are, for the left side of our brain was always the keenest before we were patched.”
“That may be,” admitted Fredjim, “but we are much the strongest, because our right arm was by far the best before we were patched.”
“We are not sure of that,” responded Jimfred, “for we have a right arm, too, and it is pretty strong.”
“We will test it,” suggested the other, “by all pulling upon one end of this bench with our right arms. Whichever can pull the bench from the others must be the stronger.”
While they were tussling at the bench, dragging it first here and then there in the trial of strength, Trot opened the door of the palace and walked in. It was pretty dark in the hall and only a few dim blue lights showed at intervals down the long corridors. As the girl walked through these passages she could hear snores of various degrees coming from behind some of the closed doors and knew that all the regular inmates of the place were sound asleep. So she mounted to the upper floor, and thinking she would be likely to find Cap’n Bill in the Room of the Great Knife she went there and tried the door. It was locked, but the key had been left on the outside. She waited until the sentry who was pacing the corridor had his back toward her and then she turned the key and slipped within, softly closing the door behind her.
It was dark as pitch in the room and Trot didn’t know how to make a light. After a moment’s thought she began feeling her way to the window, stumbling over objects as she went. Every time she made a noise some one groaned, and that made the child uneasy.
At last she found a window and managed to open the shutters and let the moonlight in. It wasn’t a very strong moonlight but it enabled her to examine the interior of the room. In the center stood the Great Knife which the Boolooroo used to split people in two when he patched them, and at one side was a dark form huddled upon the floor and securely bound.
Trot hastened to this form and knelt beside it, but was disappointed to find it was only Tiggle. The man stirred a little and rolled against Trot’s knee, when she at once became visible to him.
“Oh, it’s the Earth Child,” said he. “Are you condemned to be patched, too, little one?”
“No,” answered Trot. “Tell me where Cap’n Bill is.”
“I can’t,” said Tiggle. “The Boolooroo has hidden him until to-morrow morning, when he’s to be patched to me. Ghip-Ghisizzle was to have been my mate, but Ghip escaped, being carried away by the Six Snubnosed Princesses.”
“Why?” she asked.
“One of them means to marry him,” explained Tiggle.
“Oh, that’s worse than being patched!” cried Trot.
“Much worse,” said Tiggle, with a groan.
But now an idea occurred to the girl.
“Would you like to escape?” she asked the captive.
“I would, indeed!” said he.
“If I get you out of the palace, can you hide yourself so that you won’t be found?”
“Certainly!” he declared. “I know a house where I can hide so snugly that all the Boolooroo’s soldiers cannot find me.”
“All right,” said Trot; “I’ll do it; for when you’re gone the Boolooroo will have no one to patch Cap’n Bill to.”
“He may find some one else,” suggested the prisoner.
“But it will take him time to do that, and time is all I want,” answered the child. Even while she spoke Trot was busy with the knots in the cords, and presently she had unbound Tiggle, who soon got upon his feet.
“Now, I’ll go to one end of the passage and make a noise,” said she; “and when the guard runs to see what it is you must run the other way. Outside the palace Jimfred and Fredjim are on guard, but if you tip over the bench they are seated on you can easily escape them.”
“I’ll do that, all right,” promised the delighted Tiggle. “You’ve made a friend of me, little girl, and if ever I can help you I’ll do it with pleasure.”
Then Trot started for the door and Tiggle could no longer see her because she was not now touching him. The man was much surprised at her disappearance, but listened carefully and when he heard the girl make a noise at one end of the corridor he op
ened the door and ran in the opposite direction, as he had been told to do.
Of course the guard could not discover what made the noise and Trot ran little risk, as she was careful not to let him touch her. When Tiggle had safely escaped, the little girl wandered through the palace in search of Cap’n Bill, but soon decided such a quest in the dark was likely to fail and she must wait until morning. She was tired, too, and thought she would find a vacant room — of which there were many in the big palace — and go to sleep until daylight. She remembered there was a comfortable vacant room just opposite the suite of the Six Snubnosed Princesses, so she stole softly up to it and tried the door. It was locked, but the key was outside, as the Blueskins seldom took a door-key away from its place. So she turned the key, opened the door, and walked in.
Now, this was the chamber in which Ghip-Ghisizzle had been confined by the Princesses, his arms being bound tight to his body but his legs left free. The Boolooroo in his search had failed to discover what had become of Ghip-Ghisizzle, but the poor man had been worried every minute for fear his retreat would be discovered or that the terrible Princesses would come for him and nag him until he went crazy. There was one window in his room and the prisoner had managed to push open the sash with his knees. Looking out, he found that a few feet below the window was the broad wall that ran all around the palace gardens. A little way to the right the wall joined the wall of the City, being on the same level with it.
Ghip-Ghisizzle had been thinking deeply upon this discovery, and he decided that if anyone entered his room he would get through the window, leap down upon the wall and try in this way to escape. It would be a dangerous leap, for as his arms were bound he might topple off the wall into the garden; but he resolved to take this chance.
Therefore, when Trot rattled at the door of his room Ghip-Ghisizzle ran and seated himself upon the window-sill, dangling his long legs over the edge. When she finally opened the door he slipped off and let himself fall to the wall, where he doubled up in a heap. The next minute, however, he had scrambled to his feet and was running swiftly along the garden wall.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 322