by Ojo In Oz
“Oh, you and your pickings,” snarled Snuffer, hardening his heart against the smiling outlaw.
“Stay if you wish, but Ojo and I are pushing on.”
“But Snuffer, I am hungry.” Ojo looked up coaxingly. “Look! They’re knocking down the apples. now. Why shouldn’t we stay and try some?”
The dwarfs, who all seemed to have the strength of giants, were tapping the tree trunks with their silver hammers, and silver apples and leaves were tumbling down in a shining shower. Gathering them up into wicker baskets the dwarfs set the baskets on the tree stumps, and with little whinnies of anticipation and pleasure the unicorns began to nibble at their appetizing fare.
Waiting no longer for Snuffer’s consent Ojo ran excitedly after Pat, who had hurried off to serve the queen, and picking up one of the silver apples he bit into it eagerly. It was firm and sweet and like no other fruit he had ever tasted, so delicious, in fact, that he ate five or six more. The leaves seemed to be candied and seeing that the un~orns were munching them with great relish, Ojo picked up a handful and sampled them, too. They were crisp and spicy and much better than candy, and with a little sigh of content Ojo settled down on a tree stump prepared to enjoy himself. Snuffer still stood stiffly aloof, but after one bite of a silver apple, pressed into his paw by a kind little dwarf, he, too, began
to pick up and devour the delicious fruit as fast as he could.
Realbad, walking fearlessly about among the unicorns, who seemed to accept him as one of themselves, had an apple in each hand and a cheery word for everybody. The fog still hung like a heavy cur-tam about the fairy-like enclosure and, as traveling on for the moment was impossible, Realbad determined to extract as much pleasure from the experience as possible. The dwarfs, fascinated by the huge size of the bandit, followed him in droves, and Pat, the Prime Patter, showed him everything of interest. Snufferbux, waddling behind them in great disapproval, sniffed sarcastically as Pat pointed out the Queen’s Treasure Tree. When the dwarfs were not busy serving the unicorns they worked in the mines near Unicorners, Pat explained cheerfully, and liked nothing so much as discovering new jewels for their fleet-footed sovereign.
“A regular king’s ransom, eh?” grunted the bear, giving Realbad a malicious poke as the bandit thrust his head into the tree. “Why go further?”
“Why, indeed?” chuckled Realbad, feasting his eyes on the glowing heaps of rubies, sapphires and emeralds that rose in dazzling mounds to fill the
entire center of the immense hollow-tree. “By the way, where’s Ojo?” he demanded, suddenly withdrawing his head.
Laughing heartily, the dwarf pointed over his shoulder. Ojo and a dozen of the unicorns were in an exciting ball game. Ojo would toss an apple into the air and the unicorns, with a rush, would try to catch it on their horns. So quick and clever were the big handsome fellows that they seldom missed, and the queen, looking on with evident pleasure and interest, applauded and whinnied her approval.
“Well, it’s a good thing some one in this party keeps his head,” complained the bear fretfully. “Think of that boy’s poor uncle, worried and grieving over his absence, and there he runs tossing apples as if he had not a care in the world. And here are you, counting other people’s jewels. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!”
“Why begrudge us a little fun?” said Realbad 8lowly. “The way has been hard enough so far, and here, when a bit of good fortune presents itself, you are all for rushing away. Just think, according to Pat we’ll not have to eat again for seven days! That alone is worth a little time and trouble. Let us have a little pleasure, can’t you?”
“It would give me great pleasure to wring your
neck,” growled the bear, flouncing aside as Pat locked up the treasure tree and scurried off to watch the ball game.
“Oho, so that’s your Idea of pleasure? Well, I might oblige you at that. How about that wrestling match? Want to try it again and now?” Snuffer’s little eyes gleamed with a sudden hope and purpose.
“Yes!” he snapped shortly. “But no magic rings, remember!” Nodding carelessly Realbad called Pat and asked him to show them a quiet spot. Much mystified the dwarf led them to a tiny clearing back of Unicorners. When he discovered their purpose he stuck his lantern in the ground to give them light and shaking his head disapprovingly left them alone. By the queen’s orders the visitors were to do as they wished. If they wanted to wrestle that was their own affair. Pat himself was a peaceful person opposed to violence of any kind, so hurrying back to his comrades he began superintending the removal of the silver supper baskets.
Ojo, tired of his game, had seated himself on a tree stump near the queen, who was reclining luxuriously on a bed of silver leaves. Kicking his heels against the rough bark, Ojo told Roganda the whole story of their travels and all about the capital of Oz and
its curious inhabitants. The queen listened with little exclamations of surprise and astonishment, but when Ojo asked her to tell him the way to the Emerald City she regretfully shook her head.
“I know nothing but this one beautiful spot,” she told him frankly. When it is warm we swim in the blue river that bounds the eastern borders of our forest. When we feel restless we climb the high mountains that rise on the other side. As we lack for nothing and have neither friends nor enemies, our life is entirely pleasant and satisfactory.” “But don’t you ever feel curious about other places?” asked the boy pensively. “There are so many strange and wonderful cities and countries in Oz. I am sure there is no other queen who can blow her own horn or use it as a lance and I am sure the people in the Emerald City would admire you very much.”
“Do you think so?” mused Roganda, tossing her silver mane. “Well, perhaps some day I shall visit this famous city you speak of and see all its odd and interesting celebrities. But remember, if they bore me I shall bore them,” finished Roganda, flashing her eyes dangerously. Then growing quieter she gazed dreamily off between the trees, trying to visualize in her lovely but perverse head the splendid city Ojo
had just described to her. “She has taken a great fancy to you, lad,” whispered Pat, coming up behind Ojo. “Stay here with us. I believe I could get you a position as apple thrower and royal cup bearer to the queen.” Glancing around at the little dwarfs struggling along under the enormous silver drinking vessels of the unicorns, Ojo shook his head with a little laugh. Being cup bearer, he concluded to himself, was a doubtful honor.
“I would like to stay here, Pat,” he confided seriously, “but I have to go on. Hello, here comes Snuffer. I wonder what’s the matter. He looks terribly hot and ruffled.”
“Matter enough,” grumbled The dwarf, and snatching a new lantern from the lantern bush he hurried off on an errand of his own. The queen’s eyes had closed. Running up to Ojo, Snuffer lifted him quickly from the tree stump.
“Come on!” he panted under his breath, so as not to disturb her Majesty. “Now is our chance. The fog has lifted and no one can stop us now.”
“But where’s Realbad?” asked 0jo, noting with a little pang that the fog really had lifted and that there was not any longer an excuse to stay.
“Sh-h!” cautioned the bear, dragging Ojo along by one arm. “Do not even speak of Realbad.” The unicorns politely made way for the hurrying bear, but Ojo, thinking how impolite it was to leave without thanking Roganda and discovering what was keeping Realbad jerked angrily back from the bear’s grasp.
“I won’t go without Realbad,” he declared flatly. What do you mean, running off like this?”
“Our only chance,” puffed the bear. “Come on, come on!” Then, as Ojo continued to argue and struggle, Snufferbux picked him up bodily, dashed through the forest circle of the unicorns and out into the broad meadowlands beyond.
CHAPTER 17
The Elevator Man
WHEN he had put a safe distance between himself and Unicorners, Snuffer stopped Placing Ojo on the ground but still keeping a firm hold on his jacket the bear looked at him long and thoughtfully.
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“See here,” he began, in a low, coaxing voice. “Wasn’t I your first friend? Come now, can’t you
trust me and depend on me a little? Now, listen. Realbad has decided to let you and the reward go and take the unicorns’ treasure instead. And what a goring and boring there will be when Roganda discovers that, my boy. As I could not reason with Realbad, or stop him, I thought it best for us to get away as soon as possible. Was I right? Once a bandit always a bandit!”
“Oh, so that was it!” The boy’s face fell and a lump rising in his throat threatened to choke him. For a moment he said nothing. Then puckering up his lips in a not very convincing whistle he turned away his head to hide the tears that had sprung to his eyes. Realbad had really meant to take him to Moojer Mountain after all! Swallowing convulsively he turned back to the bear.
“Well, you can’t blame him,” he declared quietly. “Banditing is his business, you know.” Whatever Realbad did, Ojo knew in his heart that he would always love the fearless outlaw, and walking along with bent head, as Snuffer continued to mumble and explain, he made his own small plans for the future~ He would, of course, return to the Emerald City and learn from Ozma or the Wizard who his unknown enemy was. Then, after a short visit with Unc
Nunkie he would run away and searching all over the Munchkin Country till he found the bandit’s cave he would live in the free forest with Realbad forever! Feeling unaccountably light-hearted and strengthened by this decision, Ojo looked sharply around for some landmark or sign that would tell them where they were. A small mountain lay to the east and another, larger one, lay ahead.
As Ojo reached in his pocket for his handkerchief his fingers came in contact with a crisp paper. It was the note Realbad had written to the King of Tappy Town, and beneath Realbad’s scrawled question there were four lines of quite legible directions. It was strange to think that Stubby had placed them there by merely stamping on the paper with his feet, and with surprise and interest Ojo read over the king’s instructions.
“From here, the Emerald City lies one straight mile, one crooked mile, one mile up, one mile down, two miles across and one mile over.”
“What are you talking about?’ inquired Snuffer, looking curiously over his shoulder.
“It’s the way to the Emerald City,” Ojo said. Carefully smoothing out the paper and reading the directions all over again he explained how the King of Tappy Town had answered Realbad’s note. “We probably went the straight and crooked miles in the fog,” reasoned Ojo thoughtfully. “That mountain ahead must be the mile up and the mile down; then two miles across and one over and there we’ll be. Why, it’s not far at all, Snuffer. Come on!”
“Now you’re talking,” approved the bear, in a relieved voice. “At this rate we ought to be in the capital to-morrow night for dinner.”
“We won’t need any dinners for seven days,” Ojo reminded him solemnly. “Oh, dear, I wish I’d had time to gather some of those silver apples for Ozma and Dorothy. Say, by the way, Snuffer, whatever became of your suspenders?” Though the bear still w6re the boots, the blue suspenders were strangely missing.
“They bothered me,” Snuffer told Ojo, after a short silence. “When a fellow’s fur grows on his back he doesn’t need braces to hang it to.”
“No, I suppose not,” agreed Ojo. “I wish I could grow a new coat. This one is a perfect wreck.”
“If I ever get my claws on those gypsies again I’ll clump them good for the way they treated you,” promised Snuffer, bristling with anger at the mere thought of the way the rascals had pommelled Ojo.
“Well, I hope we don’t meet them now,” said the
boy, swinging along energetically. “But I do wonder what became of the bandits.”
“Oh, they’ve probably found their way back to the cave and will be there all ready to welcome Realbad when he returns with the unicorns’ jewels,” predicted Snuffer, lumbering contentedly after Ojo. “Is that mountain getting nearer, or do my eyes deceive
me?”
“No, it really is nearer,” said Ojo. “We ought to be there in ten minutes anyway and if we hurry we can climb it before dusk and spend the night on the top.” At the prospect of a night on the mountain top, Snuffer put back his ears and began to gnaw his lip in nervous agitation.
“I wish there were no mountains between us and the Emerald City,” he sighed gustily. “I’d give my best tooth if we were safely on the other side.”
“Oh, stop worrying,” advised Ojo easily. “Every mountain in Oz can’t be Moojer Mountain. We’re way off the path of it, as I remember from the map back in the bandits’ cave.”
“I hope you’re right,” gulped Snuffer earnestly, “for here we are.” Glancing up at the mass of blue rocks and trees rising steeply above, the bear gave his leather belt a determined hitch and prepared to ascend.
“Anyway, I still have Realbad’s ring,” observed Ojo, squinting thoughtfully aloft, “so nothing very bad can happen to me. And I’m glad Realbad still has his ring, for then if anything happens to him, I shall know it.” Snuffer’s paw flew involuntarily to the pouch attached to his leather belt and he looked uneasily down at Ojo.
“What would be the use of that?” he asked irritably.
“Why, then I could go back and help him,” said Qjo brightly, “or ask Ozma to help him.”
“A fine help you’d be.” The bear wiggled his nose rapidly. “What do you suppose Realbad did before he knew you? Forget about that big bandit, can’t you, and let’s get on with the climbing.”
“How about a lift?” The low husky question, bursting upon them so unexpectedly, made both Ojo and Snuffer jump. A door in the smooth rock surface to the right had noiselessly opened and standing in the doorway was a tall, serious-looking fellow in a bright blue rubber suit and box hat.
“Pando’s the name,” he murmured politely, as Ojo and Snuffer continued to stare at him in surprised silence. “X. Pando, to be perfectly correct. This way, please.”
“And suppose we don’t please?” said Snuffer in a surly voice.
“Oh, but I think you will,” answered Pando, taking off his little boxed cap and smiling at them pleasant ly. It will save you so much time and trouble. I’m an Elevator Man, you see and will take you quickly to the top of the mountain, for a small fee—a mere trifle,” he finished, glancing modestly into his cap and then clapping it on at a rakish angle. Snuffer still continued to look suspiciously at Pando, for in his travels, mostly over rural Oz, he had never come across any elevators and did not know what they were. But there were many elevators in the Emerald City and Ojo was quite familiar with these moder~ conveniences, so standing on his tiptoes he tried to look past Pando into the narrow rock aperture.
“Where is it?” he demanded eagerly.
“What?” inquired Pando, stepping quickly out of the doorway.
“The elevator!” explained Ojo, thrusting his hands jn his pockets and bending over to have another look in the doorway.
“Why, Pm ashamed of you!” X. Pando gave Ojo a reproachful glance. “An Elevator Man does not use an elevator. He is an elevator.” Touching the top button on his coat Pando shot up like an accordion, up, up and out of sight, till all Ojo and Snuffer could see were his twinkling blue legs.
“I don’t like this,” confessed the bear, shuffling uneasily. “Let’s get away before he comes down.”
“But he seems so polite,” objected Ojo, thrilled to think how many wonderful stories he would have to tell Betsy Bobbin and Dorothy when he got back to the Emerald City. “And maybe he can tell us the name of this mountain.” As Ojo finished speaking, X. Pando, with a little click and bounce, let himself down.
“The suit is rubber,” he explained importantly, “the finest blue Munchkin rubber, capable of expanding to any size and guaranteed against cracks, splits and punctures.”
“But how do you manage to shoot up that way?” asked Ojo, who felt that the suit was much less remarkable than its wearer.
“Well, that,” answe
red Pando, thrusting his thumbs complacently beneath his armpits, “that is my secret, a gift I inherited from my dear father. But come, we’re wasting time. What will you give for a lift up Bear Mountain?”
“So that’s the name of it,” cried Snuffer in great relief. “Is it a bare mountain or does it only bear
that name? And-what would you charge to take a bear and boy up Bear Mountain?” Snuffer, as you can see, was growing quite jocular.
“What have you got?” asked the Elevator Man practically. “How about the boy’s ring?” he suggested, after looking the shabby travelers carefully up and down.
“Oh, I couldn’t let you have that.” Ojo was distressed at such an idea. “It was given to me by a great friend. Anxiously he fished in all his pockets to see whether he had anything of value to offer but found nothing but a bent fishing hook and a couple of marbles. Pando, after a short look at the marbles, began to move quietly away from them. Halfway to his little rock enclosure, he paused.
“Although you possess nothing of value to give me, perhaps you can do something strange or interesting,” he suggested hopefully.
“Oh, yes! My, yes!” puffed Snuffer, bounding forward with alacrity. “My, yes! Yes, indeed! I can dance!” he admitted pompously. “Just let me show you a simple little waltz or gavotte.”
“A waltz? Why, I love to waltz!” Taking off his cap, the Elevator Man tossed it recklessly over his shoulder and rushed toward Snuffer with outstretched arms. “Come along, you. old rascal,” he
invited eagerly. “Get started, get started’!”
“Oh,~ let’s walk up the mountain,” exclaimed Ojo in disgust. It seemed too utterly silly for Snufferbux to be waltzing when there was so much traveling to be done. But X. Pando and the bear, now scarcely aware of his presence, were whirling and twirling in graceful circles. Sometimes Snuffer whistled, sometimes Pando whistled, and seeing there was no stopping them, Ojo sat glumly on the rock waiting for the absurd performance to end.