L. Frank Baum - Oz 28

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by Speedy In Oz


  “Nevertheless, I shall try it,” declared Terrybubble, clicking his jaws determinedly. “Ah a! Here’s one now.” And the next moment he actually had tried it and to Speedy’s amazement, instead of plunging through the great purple cloud that hung like a feathery island in their path, the dinosaur was climbing stolidly and unconcernedly aboard.

  CHAPTER 6

  Terrybubble’s Island

  “Oh now, this can’t last,” muttered Speedy, wildly, as Terrybubble drew his long black legs over the edge of the cloud.

  “This can’t be true. I must have hit my head on a bone. I’m delirious or dreaming!”

  But in spite of these misgivings, his enormous and enterprising steed stepped solidly and quite safely along the surface of the cloud. The fossil walked like a man, erect on his hind legs, his front legs, or rather his front bones, jiggling noisily in the wind.

  “Why, it’s an island!” gasped Speedy, glancing down at the sand and pebbles crunching beneath the monster’s claws. “An island, but what is an island doing in the sky?” Terrybubble had no ideas to offer on this subject, but he stopped solemnly in his tracks and looked back at Speedy. It had been late afternoon when the geyser flung them into the air. Now, it was night, and by the light of the moon and stars, which seemed dazzlingly bright and near, the little boy nervously examined the tropical scenery of this island, which had so miraculously saved them from destruction. The portion he could see was entirely deserted and, somewhat reassured, he begged Terrybubble to stay where he was, while he tried to find

  some way out of his bony prison. The hardened formation of mineral left by the geyser bath had narrowed the wide spaces between the dinosaur’s ribs, but after examining them all, Speedy found one Space larger than the others. Here, Terrybubble showed his presence of mind, proving that air does as well as any other stuff for brains, by handing the little boy a long, tough vine. Knotting this around one of the ribs, Speedy squeezed through the narrow aperture and slid thankfully to the ground, where he stood for some moments, regarding his gigantic companion. He could not help feeling a certain pride in Terrybubble, for had he not, after all, been responsible for putting the prehistoric monster together? The dinosaur on his part considered the little boy with frank affection and approval.

  “What now?” he chattered, settling back comfortably on his powerful tail bones. “It’s been so long since I was alive, I rather forget about life. Just what do I do and how do I do it? Let me see, now, there was, of course, eating, drinking, hunting, fighting and dythrambics. Shall we do a little dythramb-mg, boy?”

  “Not now, not now!” exclaimed Speedy, to whom the word sounded dreadfully alarming. “And say, call me Speedy, old fellow. The first thing to do is

  to keep very quiet till we see whether we’re among friends or enemies, though even if we are among enemies,” Speedy grinned suddenly, “with you along I’d have nothing to fear. They’d probably take to their heels at first sight of you. You know, really Terrybubble, you are positively gruesome.”

  “I thought I grew some myself, during that explosion,” admitted Terrybubble, waggling his head in immense satisfaction. “And I like these eyes so much better than the old ones,” he confided candidly. “They light up better and we can see each other no matter how dark it grows.”

  “But won’t you miss your body?” asked Speedy after a little silence, during which he settled himself with his back cozily against a sand dune.

  “Not at all,” the dinosaur assured him promptly. “Without a stomach, I’ll be spared all the bother of eating, and I feel lighter, somehow, without all those other organs and all that weight aboard-more free and dythrambic, if you know what I mean, though I cannot understand how I am alive without a heart to beat. Dear Mama always told me if a mogerith got the best of me, my heart would stop beating, my breath would stop and that would be the end. Well, a mogerith did get me, my breath did stop, but it

  certainly was not the end, for here I am soaring around in my bones with a talking animal called Speedy. I simply cannot understand it at all.”

  “I can’t understand it myself,” mused Speedy, thoughtfully. “Especially the talking part. I didn’t know you dinosaurs spoke our language.”

  “It was probably our language before it was yours,” stated Terrybubble rather stiffly, “with of course the addition of the snorts and rumbles. Oh, my dear self!

  I wonder if I can snort and rumble as I used to do.” Opening his jaws, Terrybubble was about to experiment, when Speedy bounced to his

  feet.

  “Oh, hush!” he begged desperately. “We don’t want to be found just yet. If you snort and rumble you’ll have the whole island down upon us. They might even push you over the edge and then where’d you be? Do have a little sense,” he urged, mopping his forehead anxiously. “Gee whiz, I wish Uncle Billy were here and could see you now.”

  “What’s an Uncle Billy?” inquired Terrybubble, reluctantly giving up the idea of snorts and rumbles. “Is it a little tiny animal like you?”

  “Like me, but bigger,” sighed Speedy, sinking Wearily back against the dune. The last hour had been an exhausting one and he felt an overpowering

  desire to fall asleep. “Uncle Billy helped me put Your bones together. You really did perish when that mogerith bit you, Terrybubble, and were out of things for thousands of years,” he told the dinosaur solemnly. “Then a Professor chap dug up and collected all of your bones to send to a museum. Uncle Billy and I happened to visit the place where he had them and while he was away we put you together to see how you’d look. Then that geyser came exploding along, glued you together and blew us both sky high.”

  “But what is a geyser?” whistled Terrybubble, pulling without effort the top leaf from a nearby palm and drawing it reflectively through his teeth.

  “Well, it’s a sort of warm, bubbling mineral spring,” said Speedy slowly, “but this geyser was more like a volcano, and it must have been different from every other geyser, for it brought you to life after you’d been dead for centuries and centuries.”

  “In other words, my bones sprang to life in a, warm exploding mineral spring. Nothing so strange about that,” decided the dinosaur comfortably. “Life is full of spring and springs are full of life, but isn’t it fortunate I have such beautiful bones?”

  “Well,” chuckled Speedy, wishing someone were

  around to hear this comical conversation, “so long as you’re satisfied! And to think”-the little boy could not control a sudden burst of laughter-“to think I wanted a wire-haired fox terrier for a pet!” Rolling over, Speedy thumped both hands in the sand. “Oh, my goodness, gracious grandfathers!”

  “Why cannot I be a pet?” demanded Terrybubble, rearing up his head challengingly. “What does a wire-haired terrier do that I cannot also accomplish?” The thought of Terrybubble as a pet sent Speedy into another muffled gale of laughter. Then looking up and seeing the poor fossil looking very sorrowful, he felt rather ashamed of himself.

  “A wire-haired terrier is only a little dog, but he can chase cats, fetch sticks and balls, bark at burglars, sleep on the foot of the bed, sort of follow a fellow around and be a chum,” Speedy explained hurriedly.

  “I can be a chum,” asserted the dinosaur stiffly. He had not the faintest idea what the word meant, but was determined to be one anyway. “Show me a cat, I’ll chase it, and as for following you around, I can carry you any place you want to go in my chest.”

  “That’s so,” agreed the little boy, thoughtfully. “I believe you’re going to be a great big help to me,

  Terrybubble.”

  “And will you like me as much as a wire-haired terrier?” inquired the monster, jealously.

  “Better!” declared Speedy promptly. “And now if you’ll just keep an eye open for enemies while I catch up on some sleep, I’ll be your friend, chum and champion for life.”

  Scarcely realizing he had pledged himself for a matter of a hundred centuries, Speedy curled up at the foot of the dune a
nd soon fell into a deep and untroubled slumber. Terrifying as the past few hours had been, he was confident that morning would bring some way out of their difficulties. He had moments before he actually dozed off when he decided that the whole adventure was a dream, that he would wake up to find Uncle Billy bending over the Professor’s stove and that with their morning coffee they’d both have a good laugh over his ridiculous flight with the fossil.

  But when Speedy awakened there was no sign of Uncle Billy or the Professor’s cabin. Waving palm trees were overhead, silvery sand underfoot and sitting exactly where he had sat the evening before was Terrybubble. Speedy rubbed his eyes again to make sure he was awake, then rolling over called a

  cheery good morning to the faithful fossil.

  Terrybubble acknowledged the greeting with a grave nod and seemed waiting for him to notice something. And this he soon did, for beside the dune rose a pile of sticks as high as a house and enough cocoanuts, bananas and oranges to feed an army of monkeys.

  Terrybubble clicked his teeth self-consciously and tried to look unconcerned.

  “You said a fox terrier could fetch sticks and balls, so I thought I’d bring some, too,” he explained in an off-hand manner. “I did not know exactly what balls were, but these” he indicated the cocoanuts and oranges with his left claw-“these looked like the word sounded, so I took a chance.”

  “Why Terrybubble, how kind you are.” In spite of himself, Speedy was touched. “These are better than balls,” he declared, picking up two of the oranges. “I can eat these for breakfast, make a fire from the wood and if you’ll crack open a cocoanut I’ll have something to drink besides.” At this praise, Terrybubble was so pleased he gave his tail a tremendous wag so that the vertebrae rattled like gun fire. Speedy cast alarmed glances around to see whether anyone heard, but evidently no one did, for there seemed nothing to mar the peace of the cool May morning. A rocking sensation underfoot

  convinced the boy that the island was still moving, but resolving to leave all explorations till after breakfast, he built himself a small fire with some of the wood, ate two oranges, two bananas and after Terrybubble had cracked open two of the cocoanuts on a rock, took a long draught of the sweet satisfying juice.

  “It’s a mean shame you can’t eat,” murmured Speedy regretfully, as Terrybubble sat quietly watching him, “but draw up to the fire, old fellow and warm your bones and I ask you, is this cozy or is it

  not?”

  Terrybubble, drawing cautiously nearer, nodded his great skull. “That red crackling plant you have started with the sticks makes me feel very much like snorting,” he announced dreamily. “Would it be all right to snort a bit and rumble? Then I’ll leap lightly over your head and spin seventy times round on the tip of my tail, roll over on my back and-”

  “Not now - not now!” Speedy’s voice was still cheerful but slightly strained. “We’d better not have any of that sort of thing till we see where we are, old fellow. And the sooner we look around, the better.”

  “Well, just as you say.” Terrybubble looked longPage 57

  ingly at the fire and then rose up jerkily on his hind claws. “I have put some ferns and leaves in my chest to make it more comfortable. I’d rather like to have you where I used to carry my heart,” explained the monster in a slightly embarrassed voice, “and I think you’ll be safer inside. I don’t know much about islands and these times but in my time and valley there was always danger and fighting.”

  “Was there?” Half closing his eyes, Speedy tried to picture the prehistoric valley of Terrybubble’s youth and the dreadful devouring monsters roaming about those dreary waste lands. But a sudden dip of the island brought him sharply back to the present. Scurrying up the vine he settled comfortably on the cushion of leaves in Terrybubble’s chest, thinking as he did so that surely no other boy had ever had such a strange travelling compartment.

  “Shall I go east or west?” inquired Terrybubble, blinking calmly over the waving fronds of palms.

  “Let’s keep close to the edge and go completely around,” decided Speedy, feeling in his pocket to see whether he had brought along his knife. “Hey-not too close!” he yelled shrilly, as Terrybubble took a tremendous leap sideways. “And not too fast, either! No use running into that danger you were talking about. We’ll just walk into it if you don’t mind.”

  “Like this?” asked the dinosaur, stepping sedately along the sandy shore. “But, oh my dear self! I see large lumps of shining rock and crystal ahead.”

  “Maybe it’s a city,” answered Speedy sticking his head out between Terrybubble’s ribs. So far, he himself could see nothing, but the dinosaur’s head was nearly twenty feet above his own and he gave Speedy glowing descriptions of the masses of brilliant rock and crystal shimmering over the tree tops.

  “It must be a city,” concluded Speedy, and as Terrybubble begged him to explain, he tried his best to describe the dwellings that beings like himself erect.

  “Are there then no caves?” demanded the monster.

  “Not many,” admitted the little boy, at the same time reflecting how impossible it was to explain a hundred centuries in a few hours. “Just wait till you see a city, Terrybubble, then you’ll understand, but you’ll have to be real careful not to tread on anyone or switch your tail, for that would knock down the houses. I’m afraid you’re too big to go in any of the houses, but if there’s a palace, we might have a look at that.”

  “A palace!” panted Terrybubble, popping out his phosphorescent eyes. “Why the very sound of a palace makes me feel positively dythrambic. A palace!

  A palace! Wheee!” and forgetting all about the little boy’s warning, the dinosaur set off at such a terrific pace that Speedy rattled around in his chest like one grain of corn in a giant corn popper.

  CHAPTER 7

  Kachewka’s Good Idea

  IN spite of the cheerful assurances of his wizard, Sizzeroo had not slept a wink and now, though it was barely seven o’clock, the King was fully dressed and pacing in great agitation up and down the royal terrace. Dragging themselves reluctantly from their beds, the Umbrella guards, courtiers and counselors had also been forced to rise and stood yawning about.

  “Well! Well! Have you any new plan for saving the Princess?” inquired Sizzeroo, as Waddy bade him a sleepy good morning.

  “The beginning of a gigantic plan is even now simmering within,” confided the Wizard, touching his forehead mysteriously.

  “Don’t say gigantic,” shuddered Sizzeroo fretfully. “I cannot even stand the sound of the word.”

  “This giant drives us to distraction,

  We don’t want words, what we want’s action!”

  announced Pansy, who was in her usual place on the King’s shoulder.

  “Well, the best way to act at a time like this,” put in Bamboula, executing a double rap-tap on his drum, “is to proceed as if nothing at all had happened. Let us be happy and cheerful and, to restore our own confidence and the confidence of our subjects, allow me to suggest a grand procession around the island, a procession with flags, flowers, bands, balloons and bon-bons. Your Majesty and the Princess will, of course, lead off in the silver sedan, carried by sixteen bearers, your guards, counselors and courtiers will be followed by the boy and girl brigades, the parashooters and the mounted guards and-”

  “But processions make me so tired,” complained the King; drawing his hand wearily across his forehead.

  “Then you can sleep,” proposed Bamboula brightly. “While you’re asleep you’ll not be worrying and while you’re not worrying the plan of our Wizard will be simmering, and simmering.”

  “We’ll all be simmering,” sniffed Kachewka sourly. “The sun’s hot now, and what good a procession will do~Chew, Chew Kachew!” The very thought of marching so early in the morning made the old counselor sneeze with vexation. But Sizzeroo was already favorably considering the idea, so Meander was dispatched to waken the Princess, and Bamboula, full of importance and jollity, began assembling
the marchers. So skilled and clever was the King’s Su-jester at this sort of celebration that by nine o’clock a glittering and impressive array of Umbrellians stood impatiently awaiting the signal to start. And that signal, four loud taps on Bamboula’s drum, was given just as Sizzeroo’s silver sedan was borne rapidly down the terrace by the King’s sixteen stalwart bearers.

  His Highness and Gureeda, dressed in silver embroidered robes, rode calmly in the royal palanquin, waving graciously to the populace drawn up on each side of the King’s Highway-Gureeda a little absently, for she was still deeply engrossed in her Unfairy Tales. At her feet lay a great heap of red roses and each time she came to the end of a page, the charming but dreamy little Princess would throw a rose to one of Sizzeroo’s wildly applauding subjects.

  The combined bands of the island filled the air with lively marching tunes, and Sizzeroo, tossing

  bon-bons to the children in the crowd, was soon so interested that he forgot for a moment the dreadful worry about the giant. Before the imperial palanquin stepped Meander, solemnly carrying Pansy on a blue brocaded cushion, the Watch Cat nodding her head condescendingly to the left and right as the procession wound its way grandly along the palm-lined highway. After Sizzeroo trudged his three counselors, importantly conscious of the great umbrella of state held over their heads by a grinning black boy. Then came the courtiers, each in his best boots and jacket and carrying magnificent silver cloth umbrellas. Back of them the Boy Brigade marched smartly, twirling big blue umbrellas and the Girl Brigade skipped gayly along under yellow parasols.

  Then came the King’s parashooters in their bright blue uniforms, rimmed with silver braid and their gleaming parashoot weapons, and lastly, the mounted guards, their horses stepping in time to the music with arching necks and tossing manes and little neighs of excitement and pleasure. The guardsmen carried their umbrellas on long poles like lances and the effect of the whole procession was so exhilarating and so entrancing the Islanders broke light-heartedly

 

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