“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” answered Speedy quickly. “We have motors and airplanes and speed boats and inventors. My uncle’s an inventor,” he finished proudly, “and that’s almost the same as a wizard.”
“Quite true,” observed Sir Hokus, as Peter Pun shook his head dubiously. “I’ve heard much about this America from Dorothy and the little mortal maids at the castle; also from a Philadelphia boy who sometimes comes to Oz and visits us in the Emerald City.”
“Do you live in the Emerald City?” asked Speedy in a hushed voice, while Marygolden regarded the Knight with round eyes.
“To be sure, to be sure. Let me introduce myself,” smiled the Knight. “I am Sir Hokus of Pokes, bound upon a quest in search of adventure. This is Peter Pun, a jester, just released from an enchantment. We’re both pursuing a fat rogue in a yellow boat who villainously dragged off the Comfortable Camel. But tell me, how came you to Oz, and what happened in yonder forest?”
“Plenty,” sighed Speedy, leaning up to pat Stampedro on the nose. “I’ve been about everywhere and everything since morning, even a King.”
“You’re still a King,” piped Peter Pun, chewing a long blade of grass, and when Speedy shook his head the jester still insisted.
“Admit that you’re thinking this very minute of all the adventures you’ve been having. Hah, ho! Shall we pause and listen, Sir Knight, or fare forth and pursue? I confess to a great curiosity concerning these travellers. Let them tell their strange story. We also will tell ours, then together we will resume the chase and rescue our unfortunate friend.”
“Good!” decided the Knight. Methinks there is more mystery here!” and helping Marygolden from her high perch on Stampedro’s back, he seated her under an orange tree, and throwing himself on the grass beside her begged Speedy to tell his story. This Speedy was quite willing to do, for when one has had astonishing experiences there is nothing quite so satisfactory as telling about them. Sir Hokus and the jester listened spellbound to his exciting ride in the Skyrocket, his reception in Subterranea, the curious way he had discovered Marygolden and the miraculous coming to life of the little Princess. Their trip up in the parashuter astonished his listeners no less, and Speedy’s trials and tribulations as King of the Quix made the Knight and Peter laugh uproariously. But when he came to the finding of the magic stone in the forest, and the disenchantment of Stampedro, Sir Hokus grew grave and thoughtful.
“Of this bewitching little Princess,” sighed the Knight, “I can tell you nothing. But this gallant charger ” he waved his sword at Stampedro, who was quietly grazing a little distance away, “this charger evidently belongs to the King of the Golden Castle.”
“What ho!” cried the jester. “Our quest progresses. We now have a King to serve and all we need is a damsel and a dragon.”
“I’ll serve Marygolden if she will let me,” said Sir Hokus, smiling kindly at Speedy’s Princess. As Marygolden, with a quaint curtsey, was acknowledging the honor, Peter, peering between two trees, let out an earsplitting screech.
“A dragon!” yelled the jester, jumping into the air and clicking his heels together. Speedy and Sir Hokus both rushed forward, but there was nary a dragon to be seen. As they turned questioningly back to Peter, the jester burst out laughing and rolled over and over on the grass.
‘Tis a snap-dragon,” roared Peter, pointing to a tall blue flower, “Ho, ho, Hokus, I caught you
then.”
“Bother you and your punning,” fumed the Knight angrily. “One more pun and I’ll
“Well, what’s the punishment for puns?” asked Peter, sitting up with an interested expression.
“A punch!” supplied Speedy, winking at Marygolden.
“A punch for a pun, and a punch for a punner-But the lad with the punch better be a good runner-
sputtered Peter, hopping up; but Speedy had no intention of chasing him and was already talking
seriously to the Knight.
“You know,” said the boy earnestly, “I’d sorta like to help you help this King before I go back to America, and I believe I will!”
“Bravo!” roared Sir Hokus, giving Speedy a thump on the back that made him blink. “And when we have found and disenchanted this King, I will take you and Marygolden back to the Emerald City, and Ozma with her magic belt will transport you both to America. How will that be?”
“Just fine,” beamed Speedy, seizing the Knight’s hand and shaking it heartily.
“And now,” put in Peter Pun, cartwheeling up to Sir Hokus, “if all the speechifying’s over, let me tell you something. This steed belongs to the King’s son at whose court I was jester. I remember him distinctly now.
“Then that King’s son must be the Yellow Knight!” cried Speedy jubilantly. “Did you say you had found his father’s castle, Sir Hokus? Where? How? When?”
“A pretty tale it is and now, Hokus Pokus, tell him how,”
chuckled Peter. As Speedy drew closer to the Knight and motioned for Stampedro to come nearer, too, Sir Hokus told his story and all that had happened since he left the capital. He hurried a bit over his adventures in Marshland and on the flying field, but described the deserted city in great detail, and the finding of the package of dates in Camy’s saddle sack, the strange changing of the funnysuckle vine into Peter Pun when he flung the date seed, and finally of the sudden theft of the Comfortable Camel by the fat owner of the yellow boat. As he finished, Speedy started up in great excitement. “Why, everything,” puffed the boy earnestly, “everything depends on that Camel! Don’t you see? The magic dates were in the Camel’s saddle sack. Whoever stole the Camel knew about the dates; whoever knew the dates must have enchanted Stampedro and Peter and this King and all his subjects.”
“Dirks and daggers!” thundered the Knight. “You are right! What a head you have, young man.” Stampedro, who had listened attentively to all this, whinnied his agreement to the Knight’s statement, touching Speedy gently on the shoulder with his soft nose and tossing his mane to express his satisfaction.
“Speedy can do anything,” smiled Marygolden, jumping up and clapping her hands in delight. “Just try him!” Speedy looked a little uncomfortable at all this praise.
“Tell me,” he asked quickly, for he had thought of something else, “did this Comfortable Camel always live in the Emerald City?”
“Yes-no—let me see!” Sir Hokus, already on his feet and ready to start, paused explosively. “Why, I discovered him and the Doubtful Dromedary myself,” he explained thoughtfully. “Dorothy, the Cowardly Lion, and I found them about ten years ago on the edge of the Deadly Desert, but as far as I can remember, they never spoke of their former country or master.”
“Do you think anyone in the Emerald City knew about those dates, or would anyone there be mean enough to transform a whole kingdom?”
“No,” decided Sir Hokus, with a positive shake of his head. “And now that I think of it, the figs and dates were so uncommonly stale and hard that, had I not been starved and famished, I’d never have been able to swallow them at all.”
“Oh sad to relate, the poor fellow ate
A date that was ancient and quite out of date!”
“Hold your tongue,” snapped the Knight, for he was trying to think, and Peter’s nonsense disturbed him. “Those packages must have been in Camy’s sack when he first came to the Emerald City,” he declared finally. “And now to find the Comfortable Camel!”
“Right!” cried Speedy, and Stampedro, to show his approval, reared right up on his hind legs and trumpeted with impatience.
“Will you ride?” asked the little boy, turning politely to the Knight.
“No, no. You and Marygolden ride,” answered Sir Hokus, looking longingly at the splendid horse. “Shall I lift you up, Princess?”
“Oh, don’t call her Princess,” begged Speedy, as Sir Hokus placed Marygolden carefully in the saddle. “She’s through with all that stuff, and she’s going to be plain Mary when we get back to the United States. Aren�
�t you?” Marygolden nodded her head soberly.
“Mary, but never plain Mary,” teased Peter Pun. “Why, just to look at her takes my breath away completely.”
“But still you talk on,” sighed Sir Hokus, taking Stampedro’s bridle. “Come, my fine fellow, let’s be starting.” But the big chestnut planted all four feet, and shook his head stubbornly. “What now?” puffed the Knight in surprise. “Do you not wish to find your master?” Stampedro shook his head for “yes” but refused to budge an inch. Sir Hokus stepped back and looked at him questioningly.
“Mayhap he wishes me to ride,” announced the jester, bouncing up like a rubber ball behind Marygolden. Stampedro, looking around, nodded his approval; but when the Knight gave the bridle another tug he still refused to move.
“Why, Stampedro, aren’t you going to help us?” asked Speedy reproachfully. Instead of answering, the horse took Sir Hokus’ mailed shirt-tail in his teeth and swung the Knight around toward the stirrup.
“He wants us all to ride,” gasped Speedy. “What do you think of that?”
“I think it’s a grand idea,” said Peter Pun merrily. “We three scarce weigh as much as one. The
Knight is nothing but bones and armor, and any horse in the good old days could carry two for a stretch. So mount up, Hokus, and let’s be going. Let’s be galloping!”
“Is that what you really want?” questioned Speedy, leaning forward to whisper in Stampedro’s ear. The chestnut nodded his head vigorously, and after a little more coaxing Sir Hokus sprang into the saddle.
The Knight took Marygolden in his lap and Speedy squeezed in behind him. Peter clung to the boy’s coat, perched precariously just above the horse’s tail. Then, with a glance over his shoulder to assure him that everyone was settled, the great charger, like an arrow released from its bow, shot along the bank of the yellow river, his golden mane and tail streaming out like banners in the wind
CHAPTER 16
Speedy in Samandra
AND so it happened that the Sultan of Samandra, crouched sullenly on his cushioned throne, did not have long to wait for the approach of Knight. Knight was approaching by leaps and bounds. Indeed, so swiftly did the chestnut charger bear Sir Hokus and his three comrades that they came to the Sultan’s city before the last of the sun’s rays had faded from the sky. Catching a glimpse of the yellow boat tied up at the dock, the Knight gave a husky cheer.
“On cried Sir Hokus, rising in the stirrups.
“On to the palace. The King of this country is the rascal we are seeking.” Sparks flew from the stones as Stampedro galloped up the steep streets, and the Samandrans, noting the fierce aspect of Sir Hokus, who was swinging his battle-axe wildly round his head, fled in every direction. Speedy and Marygolden, though shaken and breathless, could not help exclaiming at the splendor of the gold-domed buildings, and tall, spired castle; but Stampedro, without a pause, clattered up the fifty golden steps, pushed through the swinging doors, and burst like a bombshell into the magnificent throne room itself. The Sultan, hearing the great clamor without, had already risen, and when the panting steed and his four riders suddenly catapulted into his presence, he clutched Confido to his breast and with bulging eyes confronted his unexpected visitors. His first feeling was fright. Then, as he recognized the jester and war horse of a King he thought transformed and silenced forever, he gave a loud scream of anguish.
“Robbers!” shrieked the Sultan, throwing caution to the winds. “How dare you steal my magic dates and ruin my strongest enchantment?”
“Thief!” roared Sir Hokus, alighting with one bound. “How dare you steal our Comfortable Camel?” In his excitement he did not notice the difference between Tuzzle, whom he had seen on the yellow boat, and the fat ruler of the Samandrans. “R-r-restore the Comfortable Camel at once, and tell us what you have done with the King of the Golden City and all his subjects!”
“N-n-never!” shrilled the Sultan, holding Confido tight up under his chin. And pointing to first one and then another of the intruders, he began to talk in a fierce undertone to the little dog.
“Why do you talk to a dog when guests are present?” drawled Peter Pun, sliding down from Stampedro’s back and snapping his fingers under the Sultan’s nose. “Is that the pleasant custom in this country?”
“You are a fool!” hissed the Sultan, “both by profession and nature. This is no common dog. This is Confido, the Imperial Peke of the realm. I speak to Confido because he knows all and tells nothing. Nothing, do you hear? But you, wretched plunderers, you shall tell what you have done with the magic dates, or be pounded to a powder and pulverized. Pulverized, do you understand? Tuzzle! Chinda! Blufferroo! Where is everybody?” Dropping Confido, the Sultan thumped on the golden gong beside the throne and began yelling at the top of his lungs. At this, Speedy, who had been all ears, jumped off Stampedro, and in the excitement and confusion following the arrival of the very Grand Vizier, the Grand Bozzywoz, the Grand Counter of the Imperial Spoons, and seventy Samandran spearmen, picked up Confido and tucked him quickly inside his leather jacket. Then, taking his place sturdily beside Sir Hokus, he prepared to defend himself and Marygolden.
“Seize this Knight,” commanded the Sultan. “Knight-Knight?” All at once he remembered the prophecy of Chinda: You will find part of what you seek in the middle of the night. “This Knight has eaten the magic dates,” choked the Sultan, clutching his turban desperately. “Woe is me, us, you, her, it, him, and them! Slice him in two! Slice them all in two! Seize these villains, do you hear?” The spearmen evidently heard, and they moved forward, their spears pointed menacingly. Peter Pun, in one jump, regained the back of the Yellow Knight’s horse. Marygolden, sliding forward, clasped both arms around his neck, and Stampedro, breathing fire and smoke, leapt clear over the heads of the advancing spearmen, through a side window, and away. With a gasp of relief, Speedy realized that Marygolden, at least, was safe. Sir Hokus, swinging his battle-axe, knocked down two of the spearmen in the center, and dashed through the opening before they could turn about. Speedy, seeing it was too late to follow, sprang for a spiral stair back of the throne, and tore upward three steps at a time, followed by all the spearmen except the two Sir Hokus had felled. Confido, inside his leather coat, barked and scratched, but paying no heed, the boy sped upward, up, up, up, till he grew faint and dizzy and his heart beat with loud, suffocating thumps. Reaching the top, ten steps ahead of the spearmen, Speedy rushed into a great glass-enclosed room and slammed the door. Pulling off his leather helmet he flung it on the sill, opened the window, and after a quick look round jumped into a big oak chest and closed the lid. The spearmen, panting and furious, burst into the room just as the lid settled into place. They stamped angrily about and then, catching sight of Speedy’s helmet on the ledge, began sticking their heads out of the window and chattering away in the utmost excitement.
“The young monkey’s jumped to the ground,” puffed the leader, “and that’s the end of his impudence, but we’d better go down and pick up the pieces to satisfy the Sultan. Come on!” If they had not made so much noise themselves, they might have heard Confido barking inside of the oak chest, but quite satisfied that their prisoner was lying at the bottom of the tower, they clattered noisily down the spiral stair. Speedy waited until their footsteps and voices died away, then crept cautiously out of the chest. He had run, as luck would have it, to the tower room of Chinda, the Seer, and gazed in surprise and bewilderment at the magical appliances of the prophet. The Grand Bozzywoz, fortunately, was below, and tiptoeing nervously about, Speedy tried to think of some way to escape. The tall telescope that pointed skyward interested him especially, and even in the midst of his worry and anxiety he could not resist one peek.
“If we could just find that date seed and the rest of the package, everything would be easy, sighed the boy, peering absently through the long tube. “Where could it have fallen?” he worried, screwing up his eye and scarcely noticing what he was looking at. Then he gave a great start, for clear a
nd distinct in the lens of the telescope he saw a bit of the enchanted forest. As he stared in fascination, it
narrowed down till there was only one tree, a hollow tree he remembered seeing next to the horse chestnut. Now the lens showed the inside of the tree, and there, among a little hoard of nuts hidden away by some thrifty squirrel, Speedy saw a bright and gleaming stone.
“The date seed!” gasped Speedy, pressing his eye closer and closer as the picture faded away. “Gosh! If I can just get out of this palace and find my way back to the forest. Be quiet!” he directed, fiercely tapping the lump under his coat that was Confido. Then, relenting a little, he unbuttoned his coat and allowed the dog to stick out its head. “Can’t you be still?” he pleaded earnestly. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. With a little whimper, the Peke stopped barking and fixed its bulging, near-sighted eyes anxiously on the boy. “There, that’s the fellow.’ Giving him a hasty pat, Speedy looked out the window to see how far it was to the ground, for it would never do to risk the spiral stair. With a shiver he drew in his head, and as he did, the heavy boots and rough voices of the spearmen came echoing upward. Not finding him senseless in the garden, they were coming back to search the tower. Trembling between the chest and the window, Speedy’s glance flew round the prophet’s workshop and came frantically to rest on a coil of rope hanging on a hook near the door. Snatching the rope he regained the window and tied the rope to a hook on the sill.
“Curses!” puffed Speedy, tossing the rope over the edge. “Curses, Mickonionjuice! Here they are!” Dropping over the ledge, Speedy began his perilous downward descent hand over hand. He dared not look up nor down, and as he was wondering whether the rope would be long enough to reach to the bottom of the tower, it fell in a dozen stinging coils upon his head. A spearman, looking out of the window, had cut it with his scimitar, and like a log Speedy fell into the garden. Luckily he was only a few feet from the ground and though somewhat jarred and shocked, he jumped immediately to his feet and started to run. In the right direction, too, fortunately, and before the spearmen in the tower could give the alarm he had reached the dock and was scampering along the bank of the yellow river. “If I follow the river,” he panted, “I’ll get back to the forest. Then I’ll find that date seed and try to find the others. Whew!” Steadying Confido with one hand, he flew along faster than he had ever run in the track events at home and soon had the satisfaction of hearing the voices of his pursuers grow fainter and fainter. As he paused at length to catch his breath, a great shadow moved silently out from the trees, a soft nose was thrust suddenly into his hand and two glad cries rang through the dusk. It was the horse of the Yellow Knight, and leaning down with eager hands to help him up, Marygolden and Peter Pun.
L. Frank Baum - Oz 24 Page 10