The forest was of considerable extent, although the trees did not grow close together, and there was plenty of light and sun. Pippo entered it at the edge nearest the sea, and searched diligently every inch of the ground as he walked along. There were few flowers to be seen anywhere among the trees, and nothing that at all resembled a featherblow.
All through that anxious day he searched, and night found him a very tired and hungry poodle, without a hope left of accomplishing his object.
He sat down in the middle of the forest to think over his approaching fate, and while he thought the moon slowly rose and sent her soft beams slanting through the forest. Pippo lifted up his voice in along, dismal howl. He had always made it a point to howl in this way whenever he saw the moon. Why he did it he could not tell; but it seemed a natural thing, and very comforting.
Then he glanced downward, and there at his feet bloomed a large, handsome featherblow!
Pippo stared at it long and wonderingly. He could scarcely believe in his good-fortune. Then, realizing that he must act promptly, he plucked the blossom, added it to the other four flowers in the bouquet, and called upon the Fairies to appear.
There was a slight rustling about him, as of the wind stirring the dead leaves, and then Pippo-Tib found himself surrounded by a group of beautiful Dog Fairies, who were seated upon the ground in the form of a crescent. Before them all was their dainty Queen, and as the astonished poodle gazed upon her she nodded pleasantly and said: “You have called us, Pippo-Tib. What is your request?”
“Give me strength to defeat King Herowag tomorrow,” responded the poodle, bravely, although he could feel his heart beat fast.
“Why do you ask this?” inquired the Queen.
“Because he is an unjust tyrant,” was the answer; “because he is using trickery and deceit to retain his crown; because he has ruled long enough, and another and younger King would be of more benefit to the Island.”
“These reasons are sufficient,” returned the Queen; “therefore, I will give you strength to defeat the King. But you must promise not to kill him.”
“I promise,” said Pippo, readily enough. The idea of his killing the big I Herowag!
“Then lie at my feet and close your eyes,” commanded the Queen. And when Pippo obeyed he felt a great flood of energy and power enter into him, so that he knew himself able to fight and overcome any dog on all the Island.
“And now,” continued the Fairy, when Pippo had risen and returned to his former place, “how about the contest of wisdom?”
“Oh, I’m not afraid to match my wits against those of the old King,” answered the poodle, complacently.
“In that you are wrong,” said the Queen; “for age brings greater and more mature wisdom than youth can ever boast. If you wish to conquer the aged King you must have more than strength and natural wit.”
“Then give me wisdom!” begged Pippo-Tib, humbly; and the Fairy smiled and touched his forehead with her wand.
“Go forth and conquer!” said she; and the fairy band, one and all, repeated the words.
“But the contest takes place to-morrow,” said the poodle; “and I am a long way from the King’s palace.”
“You new strength will enable you to reach there in time,” returned the Queen, in a kindly voice; and Pippo thought her form was growing dimmer.
“But I really don’t know my way out of this forest!” he cried, hastily.
“Keep your eyes upon the moon, and follow in a straight line where it leads you,” was the reply; and as the voice ceased the fairy band vanished, and Pippo-Tib, happy and proud of his success, found himself alone in the forest.
Having cried his thanks to the invisible fairies of his race, he prepared to start upon his long journey. He was not tired any longer, nor hungry, and his former despair had been replaced by confidence and joy. So he raised his head, fixed his eyes upon the moon, and bounded forward in a straight line, as he had been told.
Now in the centre of this forest was a small lake, dark and stagnant and very deep. And all around its edge were terebinth trees, whereon grew the pistachio nuts. These nuts had fallen thickly into the lake, where the water drew out their greenish coloring until all the stagnant pool was stained a bright green.
Pippo-Tib knew nothing of this lake, and as his eyes were fixed upon the moon in the sky he presently fell plump into the water and sank nearly to the bottom before he recovered from his surprise.
But he was not frightened, for he had faith in the Fairies.
Soon he rose to the surface, got sight of the moon again, and swam straight toward it. This brought him to the opposite bank, where he scrambled out of the water, gave himself several brisk shakes, and again trotted swiftly upon his way.
The fresh night air soon dried his fuzzy hair, which seemed to be more curly than ever. But the poodle no longer showed white under the moon’s rays, although he knew nothing of the remarkable change in his appearance.
It was a long journey, but Pippo-Tib quite enjoyed it. For no matter how fast he ran he never became weary in the least, and his small body seemed filled with inexhaustible energy.
He was free of the forest long before morning, and the rising sun saw him galloping over the hills and plains. The moon was gone, but he knew his way now, and before long sighted the buildings that marked the site of the City of the King.
* * *
“Very good!” thought Pippo-Tib; “I shall be in time, after all!”
Vast was the throng that crowded the square before the King’s palace; for this was a popular holiday.
The King sat within his golden throne, which was made soft with silken cushions, and around him were ranged the three servile and silly Counsellors. A space was cleared, and the eyes of the spectators vainly sought Pippo-Tib, who should have arrived long ago.
King Herowag was in a bad temper. He had broken the last of his front teeth only that morning, in cracking a chugu nut, and was therefore more cross and unpleasant than usual.
The crowd became uneasy, for if Pippo failed to arrive on time the law condemned him to an ignominious death. Promptly on the hour a gong sounded, and the King rose from his throne. “I am here to meet my opponent” he said, gruffly; “but it seems the miserable cur is afraid to die, and has run away.”
“Oh, no, your Majesty,” cried a clear voice, in reply; “I would not run away for the world!” And with this Pippo-Tib trotted into the open space and faced the King.
A murmur of astonishment arose from all assembled, and even the King glared in a sort of terror at his antagonist. For the poodle’s coat was a beautiful pea-green in color, and everyone remembered that the Fairies had predicted the King could never be defeated except by a pea-green dog.
Pippo-Tib did not know that the lake had dyed his flufly white hair green, so he accepted the murmur of surprise as a tribute to his courage.
“I am ready!” said he, proudly; “let us fight.”
A spirit of despair seemed to take possession of King Herowag. He made a quick rush for Pippo, who in turn darted under the fierce jaws and tripped the huge St. Bernard most cleverly, sending him rolling over and over upon the ground before he could recover himself. Then the poodle sprang at the King’s throat, and, having fastened his teeth there, actually dragged Herowag hither and thither as if he had been a mouse.
The crowd cheered and went nearly wild with excitement at this astounding spectacle, and Herowag, dragged in the dust and nearly dead through terror and exhaustion, cried out in a panting voice:
“Mercy! Have mercy! I am defeated. Spare my life!”
“Certainly,” said Pippo-Tib, releasing his hold. “And it is high time you were defeated, for you have tyrannized over the people long enough. But I do not seek your life; so you may live until you die of old age, for all I care.”
While the throng applauded the pea-green poodle, the three Counsellors, pale with fear, assisted the King to rise and regain his throne. They brought him water, dusted him off, dressed his
wounds, and replaced the crown upon his head. Also they whispered something in his ear, and as soon as he could speak the King addressed Pippo, saying:
“You have won the contest of strength, but before you can claim the crown you must prove yourself my superior in wisdom.”
“That is true,” answered the poodle, squatting before his adversary. “But you cannot be very wise, or you would never have selected me as your opponent. I’m not so green as I look.”
There was a roar of laughter at this; but the three Counsellors called for silence, and then the King asked Pippo: “Why does the world revolve from left to right upon its axis?”
“Because if it revolved the other way it would be to the left, and that wouldn’t be right,” answered Pippo, promptly. And the judges scored a point for the poodle. After the applause had subsided Pippo in turn asked the King:
“Why does lightning never strike twice in the same place?”
The King looked puzzled, and tried to think. But his head was buzzing and he did not know the answer; so the judges scored a point against him.
To resume the contest Herowag put the question: “What is nicer to eat than a marrowbone?”
“Two marrowbones,” answered Pippo; “but that is a childish question and unworthy a contest of wisdom. So answer me this: Is it best to be a bump on a log, or a log with a bump on it?”
“Isn’t that childish?” asked the King.
“Not at all,” said Pippo.
“Well I cannot see that there is any difference,” returned the old St. Bernard, who was suffering from his wounds and bruises.
“There you are wrong,” declared the poodle; “for if one is a log, it doesn’t matter much whether there is a bump on it or not; but if one is a bump, it must have a log or something else to cling to. So it is better to be the log.”
“Enough!” cried the King, in a weak voice. “It was predicted that a pea-green dog would be my ruin, so it is useless for me to struggle against fate.”
“Pea-green!” cried Pippo. “What do you mean? Who is pea-green?”
“You are!” retorted Herowag; and while Pippo-Tib was turning his head wonderingly to view his own body, the former monarch took off his crown, slipped from the throne, and escaped through the crowd to the house of a poor relative, where he lived in retirement until the end of his days.
And so the judges awarded the victory to Pippo-Tib, and the pea-green poodle was proclaimed King amid the shouts and rejoicings of the multitude.
You can imagine the enthusiasm of that day’s celebration. No procession was ever so gorgeous, no feast so delicious, no games so merry as those that followed the crowning of the new King. The crown, by the way, was entirely too big for Pippo-Tib; but the new Counsellors he selected stuffed it well with paper.
When the monarch, happy, but tired, went to bed that night, one of his friends said to him:
“That was a clever idea of your Majesty, to dye yourself pea-green. I think it was your color that conquered the old King, as much as your strength and wisdom.”
“Perhaps,” answered the poodle, with a yawn, for he had not slept for two days. “And, if so, you will acknowledge it was a curious thing that I was obliged to dye in order to save my life!”
The Jolly Giraffe of Jomb
From: The Delineator, July 1905
In all the fair Land of Jomb there was no giraffe at all until Umpo came. And no one knew where he came from.
He was young and tender in the days when Varg the Bull saw him approaching over the grassy plain from the South, but the sight of the strange animal set all the herd quivering with nervous dread. Even the great Varg was disturbed in mind, and gathered the young heifers about him that they might be carefully guarded in case of danger. For, to the wild, danger lurks in every unknown thing.
The stranger approached without fear, his long neck erect, his dainty head turned first this side and then that to allow his big brown eyes to examine the mo-tionless cattle that awaited him. When he saw their attitude of fear he stopped and laughed merrily, drooping his head to his knees and then raising it high to laugh again.
The heifers drew sighs of relief, but the forehead of Varg the Bull wrinkled into a frown.
“Well, well,” said little Umpo, squatting down so that his eyes were scarce above the level of those of the bull; “to think that you - the Lord of the Plains - should fear a harmless giraffe!”
“Are you a giraffe?” demanded Varg, looking at the strange creature with much astonishment.
“What else should I be, eh? Is there any animal on earth like me?” asked the other, with a wink.
“I have never seen anyone like you before,” answered Varg, cautiously. “Will you fight?”
Umpo laughed again, with much amusement.
“No, indeed!” said he; “for you could kill me with one blow of your hoof, or one stab with your great horns. Fight? Why should I fight? Not that I am a coward, you understand, but that nature made me helpless. So let us be friends. This is a beautiful country. I will live here, and enjoy it with you. But I will acknowledge no chief, mind you, having no tribe of my own. I am the one giraffe in all Jomb, and 1 prefer death to being ruled by any not of my kind.”
Now this was a frank speech, and a fair one, and it appealed to the justice of Varg the Bull. So he made fair answer. “You are welcome,” said he, “so long as you show respect for our common laws. And I will not ask to rule you in any way. But there are others with whom you must make peace here.”
“And who are those?” asked the smiling giraffe.
“The river bank is the domain of the hippopotami,” said Varg.
“I will make them my friends,” declared Umpo.
“And the strip of forest yonder, is ruled by Slythe the Red Panther.”
“I do not care for panthers,” replied Umpo, with a shrug of his tall shoulders. “But never mind! We shall be friends.”
“And beyond the forest is the desert of sands, where Feathro the Ostrich holds sway.”
“Good!” cried Umpo, again laughing; “the ostriches will love me, I promise you.”
“Then,” said Varg, “have no fear while you are in the Land of Jomb, for you may wander undisturbed from the river to the desert. It is a favored country, indeed, where peace and plenty reign. And, being your own master, there is but one common Law which you will need to respect: Never touch the Sacred Mimosa Tree, or destroy a single leaf or branch - as you value your life.”
Umpo the Giraffe gave a start of surprise at this and looked grave for the first time.
“The Sacred Mimosa Tree? What is that?” he asked.
“It is the tree that brings us all good luck,” answered Varg. “Come; I will show it you, that you may make no mistake, but ever respect it as we of Jomb do.”
He led the way across the grassy plain, followed by all the herd; and Umpo ambled beside him, chattering pleasantly and laughing in a frank, jolly way that won the approval of the grave Varg and all his people.
After an hour’s brisk trot they came to a tall, wide-spreading mimosa that stood quite separate from all the other trees, in solitary state. It was almost in the centre of the narrow plain, and midway between the river bank and the strip of forest land. Beautiful in grace and dignity was the splendid tree, and its slender branches bore thick masses of green and glossy leaves. The large, deep-green leaves were at the top, and protected the delicate young shoots that spread underneath.
Umpo looked at the leaves longingly. They have always been the favorite food of giraffes, and the wanderer had not met with many mimosa trees while on his travels.
“This is the Sacred Tree that gives good luck and health and fortune to every animal in our land,” said Varg, bowing his head in lowly fashion. “If it is injured in any way, troubles of many kinds will quickly overtake us. The one great Law of the tribes of Jomb is to guard it reverently. To pluck or destroy one leaf means death to the culprit.” Umpo laughed.
“I wish for luck!” he cried. “T
herefore the Sacred Tree shall be as sacred to me as to any animal in all Jomb.”
“It is well,” answered Varg, and straightway trotted back to his feeding grounds again.
Umpo wandered on to explore the extent of his new home, and it surely seemed that the young giraffe had little difficulty in making friends with all the tribes. His appearance doubtless surprise them, for never had such a creature been seen or even heard of before in that country; but for this very reason they looked upon him with favor, as a credit to the community, and he was so harmless in appearance and so merry in his ways that he became a welcome visitor wherever he chose to roam.
Also he was playful in disposition and loved to indulge in mischievous though harmless pranks; and with all his seeming helplessness he was quite indifferent to danger.
He would leap upon the broad back of a hippopotamus and let the huge beast swim the river for hours, while he stood upright and enjoyed the ride. The bearer would sometimes sink under the surface of the water and give Umpo a ducking; but he could swim, too, although not well, and always managed to reach the bank in safety. He laughed at the joke, instead of being angry, and the hippopotami were always glad when their jolly friend came to the river bank.
With the ostriches, also, Umpo had much mischievous fun. He would give a sudden, shrill cry to fill their timid hearts with terror and make them hide their heads deep within the sands. And then, while they stood thus, he played leap-frog with them, vaulting over their bodies with great nimbleness and laughing at the shudders they gave as his hoofs rested upon their broad backs.
It was with Slythe the Panther that Umpo had most difficulty in forming a friendship; for Slythe was of fierce nature and treacherous disposition, and his sleepy red eyes had a way of looking at the giraffe that made the stranger both uneasy and anxious.
“It is peace between us,” the Panther would say, purring, as he lay crouched along a limb in his forest lair. “Go your way, Umpo, and fear not.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 831