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L. Frank Baum - Oz 26

Page 9

by The Purple Prince Of Oz


  and a velvet cloak when we reach Pumperdink.”

  Randy, who had destroyed the combinoceros more by good luck than good swordsmanship, tried to explain how he had fallen with his sword pointed downward on the animal’s neck. But neither Jinnicky nor Kabumpo would listen to him, so he finally gave up and basked as any boy would in their expressions of pride and approval.

  “How long will it lie here?” he asked, curiously touching the great beast with his foot. In any country but Oz, the monster would have been utterly dead and done for, but in Oz, there is no death. People and animals can be overcome for a time but not forever, so Randy felt a little uneasy.

  “Well, I hope it does not recover in my lifetime,” chuckled Jinnicky, climbing back to his comfortable seat “and to be on the safe side, let us depart, get hence, and go forward!”

  “The only safe side of that creature is the other side,” rumbled Kabumpo distastefully. “The further we are from something worse, the nearer we are to something better.”

  “Har, har, har!” laughed Jinnicky, and when Kabumpo had put three hills and a little wood between them and the combinoceros, he called out cheerfully:

  “How about dinner? The sun’s going down and

  while we can still find our mouths we’d better eat.”

  “But what shall we eat?” asked Randy, looking rather resentfully at the baskets ofjugs and bottles that could so well have carried sandwiches and fruit.

  “Just hand me my silver bell,” directed the Jinn, with a broad wink. “Hand me the bell and all will be well !” Pulling the bell from his pocket, Randy passed it back to Jinnicky, and Jinnicky, with a mischievous smile, rang it three times.

  CHAPTER 14

  King, King, Double King!

  THE silvery note of the dinner bell had barely sounded before a small, turbaned slave flashed down from nowhere and set a well ordered dinner tray on the arm of Jinnicky’s seat. Smiling amiably, he vanished but reappeared almost instantly, for the Red Jinn had rung the bell again. This time the little fellow brought a dinner for Randy and setting the tray carefully between Kabumpo’s ears vanished away before the boy had time to thank him.

  “Fall to,” directed Jinnicky, as Randy stared in a dazed fashion at the appetizing array.

  “Well, how about me?” shrilled Kabumpo, looking indignantly over his shoulder. “Am I to stand here and twiddle my trunk while you gorge yourselves on magic viands?

  What am I to eat and when?” Instead of answering, Jinnicky picked up his tray and motioning for Randy to follow backed carefully down the ladder. Then, placing his dinner on a flat rock, he turned and handed Kabumpo the looking glasses.

  “Just put these on and go look for an elephant dinner,” he advised jovially. “But be careful, terribly, dreadfully careful!” Remember the cornbinoceros!” The Elegant Elephant swayed doubtfully to and fro and then, as he really was starving, he clapped on the red specs and disappeared at a gallop.

  “Now we can dine in quiet and peace,” murmured Jinnicky, seating himself picnic fashion on the ground. “A handy thing, my magic dinner bell, eh, my lad?” Randy nodded, his mouth too full of roast duck to speak.

  “I did have two of these dinner bells,” went on Jinnicky, between rapid bites of biscuit, “but one was stolen and fell into the hands of a countryman of yours-Jack Pumpkinhead, I think he called himself.”

  “The Pumpkinhead who lives near the Emerald City?” asked Randy, in surprise. Jinnicky nodded

  his head vigorously. “The very same. Finding himself in some dire difficulty, this Jack fellow rang the bell, seized Ginger’s hand when he appeared with the dinner tray and came back with him to my palace. So you see, you are not the only people who have appealed to me for help.”

  “Did you help Jack?” inquired Randy, with an interested

  little sniff.

  “Yes,” admitted the Jinn, slowly sipping his tea, “I saved three of his comrades from a magic sack, though I did not hear how it all turned out till a year later. That meddling little Wizard of Oz mixed his magic with mine and completely spoiled the affair for me.”

  “Well, I hope nobody meddles with your magic this time,” sighed Randy, popping a large strawberry into his mouth and crunching it up with great relish.

  “Kabumpo has all my magic at the present moment,” mused Jinnicky a bit thoughtfully.

  “Say, I hope nothing happens to Kabumpo!” Suddenly remembering that the Elegant Elephant

  wore

  the red looking glasses, Randy looked anxiously over at the Jinn. “Your specs may get him in trouble!”

  “But he’s not looking for trouble,” observed Jinnicky calmly, “he’s looking for dinner. Shall I ring for more duck, my boy?” Randy shook his head,

  for he could not possibly have eaten another bite. As he jumped up to look around for Kabumpo both trays and dishes vanished into thin air and the Red Jinn, leaning back against a turnip tree, closed his eyes and began to hum an old Ev ballad. Randy had not gone more than a dozen steps nor the Jinn reached more than the second stanza before Kabumpo hove hilariously into view. Hay was sticking to him everywhere and he had evidently dined with more gusto than elegance. The looking glasses had led him directly to a farmer’s granary and after eating several buckets of oats, bran and corn he had finished off with a stack of hay and almost pleasantly he took off the red spectacles and returned them to the Jinn.

  “Did you see any cities or towns ahead?” asked Randy, picking the strands of hay off Kabumpo’s jeweled collar and headpiece. “Did you find anything besides oats and beans?”

  “There’s a city on the other side of that second hill,” announced Kabumpo importantly. “And if we hurry we might reach it before dark.” So Jinnicky joyfully climbed into his high seat on Kabumpo’s back, Randy ran up his trunk and off they started at the Elegant Elephant’s best pace, reaching the

  top of the hill in almost no time. On top of the second hill they saw a shining yellow city. The houses were of smooth yellow stone with golden roofs. Splendid twin castles with golden spires stood above the cluster of cottages and shops, and the last rays of the setting sun touched the castle towers and golden roofs with such a dazzling light that it seemed almost as if the city were afire. Blinking approval, for he loved all grandeur, Kabumpo started energetically toward the second hill and had got about half way up, when a great band of musicians marched through the city gates and came down to meet them, playing such a lively air that it was all the Elegant Elephant could do to keep from dancing.

  “They quite evidently take us for people of importance,” said Jinnicky, setting his lid at a more stylish angle and dusting off his jar with a red silk handkerchief.

  “And quite right, too,” answered Kabumpo, tossing his head proudly. “We are people of great importance.”

  “To ourselves!” chuckled Jinnicky, to Randy’s great amusement. “And this night I shall treat them to my most elegant snores.” Kabumpo, pretending not to hear the Jinn’s last remark, lifted his trunk in a grand salute as the leader of the golden band halted directly in their path. The musicians carried

  simply tremendous horns and flutes and wore striking uniforms and caps of white and yellow. That was the last thing Randy remembered. For, lifting his baton, the bandmaster gave a signal to his men, and with such a blare of trumpets that the Jinn’s red hair stood straight on end carrying his lid up with it, the horns shot out fifteen feet (for they were of a trick and sliding variety) and knocked the travelers perfectly senseless-at least two of them.

  One horn hit the Elegant Elephant such a blow between the eyes that he nearly fell to his knees; another shot between his ears and rolled Randy to the

  ground. Jinnicky, because he was farthest back, escaped. Snatching at the left hand basket, he pulled out a blue bottle and then drew in his head, arms

  and legs, so that when the rude and boisterous bandsmen approached to drag their captives into the city,

  the Red Jinn appeared to be nothing but a huge redr />
  jar. Thinking the jar must contain some mysterious

  treasure or jewels, the musicians lifted it carefully

  from Kabumpo’s back and dispatched it by two drummers

  into the town. Randy had struck his head

  against a stone and lay perfectly senseless in the

  road. Tossing him carelessly into Jinnicky’s seat the

  bandsmen tied a rope around Kabumpo’s trunk and

  began to pull and drag him up the hill. Had the

  Elegant Elephant not been dazed and half blinded

  by the trumpet blow, he might have resisted, but scarcely knowing what he was doing or where he was going, he plodded dully after his captors. As the procession passed through the city gates, Randy came to, and rubbing his eyes looked dizzily around him. And well he might for the yellow city and its strange inhabitants were almost too ridiculous to believe.

  “Am I seeing double, or what?” mumbled the boy, shaking his head, which still throbbed from the terrible fall.

  “Double Up, and not What!” snapped the leader of tie yellow band grimly. “This is Double Up, the famous city of the Doublemen.” And doubling up his fists the bandmaster seemed daring Randy to dispute the matter. Randy, however, was too startled to speak again, for the bandmaster, his fellow musicians and all the people in Double Up, were twofaced. Imagine!

  They had no backs at all, so that no matter how they turned they were always facing him. It was dreadfully confusing when a Doubleman spoke, for both his faces talked at once and what one said the other contradicted, so there was no sense at all to the conversation.

  “Knock the boy off the elephant!” shouted the bandmaster, with one face. “Take him to the King,” advised the other, at which all the rest of the Doubles

  joined in and made such a racket that Randy could not discover what was to be done with him. He looked around anxiously for Jinnicky and seeing no sign of him tried to reach one of the Jinn’s baskets. But as his fingers touched the handle the top jars and jugs cried out shrilly: “Master! Master!” and Randy, quivering with astonishment, drew back his hand. Fortunately the Doubles were making such a noise they did not hear the weird cries.

  Crouching down among the cushions, wondering what in Oz had come over Kabumpo, who was moving along like a creature in a dream, Randy waited tensely for something to happen. As he had not been knocked off, he concluded they were taking him to the King, and in this he was right, for they were now passing along a broad avenue lined with a double row of yellow pear trees toward the tidy twin castles. Everything in Double Up was double, the houses were double, the windows and doors in the houses were double, the double-faced citizens walked stiffly in pairs and by the time Randy reached the double gates of the castle he was seeing everything double and was so giddy that he made no resistance whatever when he was rudely jerked off Kabumpo’s back. But he did give a little scream of indignation as the

  Elegant Elephant was pushed, banged and driven through another double gateway. Why didn’t Kabumpo turn around and trample on them?

  Randy himself, hustled roughly through the double doors of the castle, just could not understand it. Only the bandmaster accompanied him to the big double throne room. The Double King was sitting on his throne eating a pear, or rather two pears, and the bandmaster bowed first to one side of the King and then to the other. As he did so the King gave Randy a couple of mean looks.

  “So you captured them?” muttered his Majesty’s first face. “That elephant will be good for log rolling,” observed his Majesty’s second face. “I wonder to whom he belongs?”

  “King, King, Double Ring, they’ll never get him back again,” chortled the bandmaster with one mouth. “The boy will make a good boot black,” sneered the other. “This is his impairious Highness King Too Too the Second, King, King, and Double King. Bow to your new sovereign.” Jerking Randy by the arm and seeing that he was not going to bow, the bandmaster gave him a blow that sent him sprawling at the Double King’s feet. It was all like some horrible nightmare and when Randy jumped up in a fury and threw himself upon his twofaced

  Majesty, he was soon overpowered by a Double Up guard and shaken into silence.

  “Bring him to the dining hall while we dine, but give him nothing,” commanded the Double King, with one mouth while he finished both pears with the other. “After dinner, we will break open that red

  jug.” At these awful words and knowing they referred to Jinnicky, Randy pricked up his ears and as the Double King, followed by a double line of Double Courtiers, began to move slowly toward the dining hall, Randy tried desperately to think of some way to help himself and his luckless companions.

  The dining hall was long and elegant, with two beautifully set tables in the exact center. And Randy soon discovered why this was. Standing in a corner, watched over by the surly guard, the boy could not help feeling interested in the Double King’s dinner. It took a long time, for the Doubles, having two

  mouths to feed, had to eat twice as much as an ordinary person. So, to begin with, they seated themselves at the first table and ate noisily and heartily;

  then, turning around, they seated themselves at the

  second table and gave the other side of their faces

  a chance.

  “It must be pretty expensive to be a Double,” reflected Randy, “and a great nuisance, too.” On

  the

  whole he was glad he had only one face to wash, though eyes in the back of one’s head would be handy things at times. Thanks to the magic dinner

  he had eaten with Jinnicky he was not bothered at all by the Double King’s double feast. But he was tired of standing and felt a real relief when the King at last finished and started back to the throne room.

  “Perhaps,” thought Randy, as he was pulled along roughly by the Double Guard, “perhaps I’ll think of some way to save Jinnicky when the time comes.” But alas, he was to have no such opportunity. For no sooner had the King-King reached his throne than he cried out in a couple of very fierce voices.

  “Take that boy to the dungeon and if he gives any trouble just chop off his head! Chop off his head!”

  “Twice?” inquired the guard out of the corner of one of his mouths.

  “Once!” shrieked the King at the top of both of

  his voices.

  “But your Highness said once twice and twice once are twice,” argued the guard stubbornly. Randy was so mixed up by this time that he could think of nothing to do or say at all and while the Doubles laughed and roared spitefully he was ignominiously dragged from the Double King’s presence. The dungeon to which Randy was taken was exceedingly dark and dismal and as the double doors clanged shut and the double bolts shot into place, his heart sank to the bottom of his boots. How ever could he get out or

  find a way to help Jinnicky and Kabumpo. Two candles burned in a double candlestick on the rickety table, and flinging himself sadly on a heap of straw in the corner of the dungeon, Randy lay looking at their wavering flames, trying to plan some way to escape. But he was so worn out and weary from all the adventures and curious experiences of the day that, in spite of his discomfort and terrible anxiety, he soon fell into an uneasy and troubled slumber.

  CHAPTER 15

  Escape from Double Up

  ALIGHT touch on the arm wakened Randy. The candles had burned out and it was quite dark in the dungeon.

  “It’s morning,” whispered a cautious voice. “Come, take my hand and we’ll soon be away from these double dealing dodos.”

  “Why, Jinnicky!” gasped the boy. “How did you ever find me? How can it be morning when it’s so dark, and how are we to get past the guards?”

  “Hold on to me and you’ll soon see,” chuckled

  Jinnicky in his jolly voice, and seizing Randy’s arm hurried him out of the dungeon up a long flight of steps and finally into the great double kitchen of Too Too’s castle. The light made Randy blink and dropping into the double cook’s chair he took a long, deep breat
h. Sure enough, it was morning, and the fresh May breeze coming in through the double windows seemed perfectly delicious after the stifling air below. With a big sigh of relief Randy noted that Jinnicky’s jar was not broken. Indeed, the Red Jinn looked shinier, saucier and more mischievous than ever.

  “What happened?” begged Randy, as Jinnicky took off his red looking glasses and slipped them into his wide sleeve.

  “Come and see, my mercy me!” With scarcely concealed merriment the little Jinn pattered toward Too Too’s throne room. But even before they reached that spacious and elegant apartment, Randy saw the Double King’s retainers doubled up in every direction, on the stairs, along the corridors and in every room and corner. Apparently they were fast asleep, and stepping softly, so as not to waken them, Randy hurried after Jinnicky. Not till he had seated himself on Too Too’s throne did the Red Jinn reveal what had really taken place. Here, with his feet resting

  comfortably on the Double King’s prostrate form, with fallen Doubles lying in heaps and mounds around them, Jinnicky began his story. The King and his subjects had passed nearly the whole night celebrating their victory over the travelers. Shut up in his jar Jinnicky had listened to long double speeches, double duets and the thunderous banging and tooting of the Doublemen’s band. Toward morning Too Too, wearying of the clamor, decided to investigate the contents of the red jug.

  “And then,” murmured Jinnicky, leaning back with half closed eyes, “then I knew my turn had come. At the first touch on my lid I stuck up my head and so frightened Too Too that he fell over backwards, or rather frontwards, for he has, as you know, no back at all, and while his courtiers and musicians gaped with amazement I flung the contents of my blue bottle high into the air calling:

  ‘Joonicky, Jonicky, Jornicky Junnicky I Incense, blue incense, subdue everyoneicky.’”

 

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