L. Frank Baum - Oz 30, page 6
“Rare and unusual, all of ‘em,” said Samuel, dropping down beside Ato and looking with complete satisfaction at his curious collection. “Mind those yellow creepers,” warned Nikobo, wiggling her vast snout warningly. “Those purple flowered plants in the middle are treacherous, too. They are tumbleweeds, Master Long Legs, and ‘tis from them Patrippany Island gets its name. When the Leopard Men fought, they would fling these weeds at one another, and I’ve seen them falling about for hours, neither side being able to advance a step or even stand up.” “Tumbleweeds!” breathed Samuel ecstatically. “You don’t SAY! Why, these might come in real handy if we ever get in a tight place. I’ll give a few to the Wizard of Oz and to the Red Jinn when we get back from this voyage. And what about the yellow creepers, mate? Are they fighting plants, too?” “The creepers, if uprooted and thrown at an animal or man, will creep rapidly after him, catching him no matter how fast he runs and tying him up so tight he will not be able to move until the vine withers,” explained Nikobo solemnly. “I happen to know from an experience I had with one of these vines in my early youth.”
“Creeping vines,” shivered Ato, moving as far away from Samuel’s collection as possible. “Just keep them away from me, Sammy. What right have such things on a ship?”
“Oh, they’ll be harmless enough when they’re potted,” answered Samuel easily. “And a splendid weapon they’ll make for some up-and-coming country.”
“Better keep them for ourselves,” advised Roger, fluttering down to Samuel’s shoulder. “Exploring’s a dangerous business, if you ask me, Master Salt.”
“Well, you’ll have to admit that it’s been pretty safe and successful so far,” said Samuel, clasping his hands behind his head and gazing contentedly up at the waving fronds of the palm trees. “SAFE!” The ship’s cook began to shake and quiver all over. “Ho, ho! Safe? Especially sailing round that volcano and going swimming with the crocodiles! Safe! You’ll be the death of me yet, Sam-u-el. Have you planted your Oz flags and told the wild creatures in the jungle about their new sovereign?”
Roger nodded his head importantly. “We’ve raised Oz flags on the tallest trees on the East, South, West and North sides of the Island. I flew across and got a bird’s eye view while the Captain walked clear ‘round. We’ve discovered it’s bean-shaped, King dear, the exact shape of a kidney bean and a fine, fertile place for settlers and prospectors from Oz.” “Yes, all they have to do is cut down a million trees, drain the swamps, and train the wild beasts in the jungle to be as polite and considerate as Nikobo here.”
“Well, what of it? That’s their problem.” Samuel stretched himself, luxuriously snapping each finger to see that it was still working. “And now, since our part is done, what do you say to waking this son of a King’s son and getting aboard the ship? The tide’ll run out in a couple of hours and carry us along.” Tazander had been awake for some time listening to the conversation with closed eyes. Now sitting up, he calmly spoke his mind. “I’m not going with you,” he stated grandly. “I’m going to stay here with Kobo till my own people come for me.”
“Hah! Mutiny!” Leaping to his feet, Samuel glared down at the puny youngster with real anger and exasperation. “If you think I’m going to leave you on
this island to be devoured by wild animals when Nikobo’s back is turned, you don’t know your pirates. CLIMB up on that animal. Lively, now!” Samuel looked so fierce and threatening that Ato felt rather sorry for the stubborn little King, but he was wasting his sympathy. “I’m not going,” said Tandy, settling more determinedly down into the sand. “And no one can make me.”
“Don’t say that! Don’t say that!” Blubbering with grief at the thought of losing her small charge and shivering with anxiety lest he arouse to further anger this tall sea captain, Nikobo lumbered to her feet and began to whisper eagerly in Tandy’s ear. During this short conference Samuel gathered up his specimens and Ato his oranges, and when both had finished, the hippopotamus edged nervously forward. “I’ve decided to go with you,” she announced in a slightly shaken voice. “If I go, Tandy’ll go, so I’ll just GO!”
“WHAT?” roared Samuel Salt, dropping his shells and clapping his hand to his forehead. “Well, that practically solves everything!” Looking wildly from the hippopotamus to the Crescent Moon, Samuel had a dreadful vision of Nikobo rolling dangerously from side to side of his cherished vessel. “What’ll you eat?” demanded Roger, who was ever more practical than polite. “How’ll we ever feed this enormous lady, Cook dear? Besides, she’ll sink the ship.”
“I’ll be very quiet and stay wherever you put me,” murmured Nikobo in a meek voice. “I’ll go on a diet and eat whatever is left.”
“Well, why couldn’t she go?” proposed Ato, who already had formed a great liking for Tandy’s devoted guardian. “Why couldn’t she? Nice, kind, motherly creature that she is!”
“But a hippopotamus needs fresh water and tons of food andFF20C4” Then suddenly Samuel brought his hands together with a resounding smack. “Have you thought of something?” asked Ato hopefully, shifting his oranges from one shoulder to the other.
“Yes,” stated the former Pirate solemnly, “I have.” Samuel was secretly delighted to have found a way to carry this superb herbivorous specimen back to Oz. “I’ll build her a raft and tow her along after the ship. We’ll stop at all the islands we come to for fresh water and grass, and meanwhile she’ll have to do with salt baths and such food as we have in the hold.” “Oh, KOBO! Did you hear that?” Springing up with the first signs of life or feeling he had yet shown, Tandy flung himself on his huge companion and friend. “So you’re really going. Then I’ll go too.” “Can’t be all bad, if he’s as fond of her as all that,” whispered Ato in Samuel’s ear.
“Not bad, just a pest,” wheezed Samuel, reaching for his ax. “Needs a taste of the rope, if you ask me.” Then, while Nikobo went for a last swim in the Biggenlittle River and bade goodbye to her numerous and wondering relatives, Samuel felled trees, split wood, and with nails Roger fetched from the ship fashioned a splendid, strong raft for their new pet. Round the edge he built a sturdy railing to keep Nikobo from sliding off in a rough sea. Ato and Roger, taking thought for the evening meal, heaped one end of the raft with grass and twigs and all the jungle roots they could gather. Without moving or offering to help, Tandy sat watching, and just as the sun sank down behind the palms, a strange procession started out for the Crescent Moon. Ahead with the keg of nails soared Roger. Then came
the hippopotamus moving like a small dreadnaught through the water. On her back sat Ato, the haughty young King of Ozamaland, and Samuel Salt. Samuel rode last, holding in his hand the long cable he had attached to the raft and with which he meant to fasten it to the Crescent Moon. Following his orders, Nikobo swam close to the side of the ship so Tandy and Ato could climb the rope ladder, then she paddled round to the stern where Samuel drew his cable through an iron ring in the ship’s hull and made the raft fast. There was a runway at the back of the raft, and the rails on that side let down so that Nikobo had no trouble clambering aboard. By pulling a rope with her teeth, she could raise or lower the back of her pen and take a swim whenever she felt the need of one. After giving her a bit of advice about voyaging and seeing her comfortably settled, Samuel climbed the cable and nimbly pulled himself aboard his ship. Roger had already stowed their precious specimens in the hold, and rubbing his hands with brisk satisfaction the Captain of the Crescent Moon weighed anchor and dropped with the tide down the Biggenlittle River to the sea. Then, touching the automatic controls, he set his sails to catch the evening breeze, adjusted his steering gear for a course east by sou’east and strode happily into his cabin. The Salamander chirped cheerfully as he passed her hotbox, and after tapping a cheerful greeting on the lid the weary explorer stripped off his ruined and muddy shoregoing outfit, took a shower, and climbed thankfully back into his old sea clothes. “Where’s the pest?” he called out as Roger flew past the open port.
“Well, since he was so small and important,” sniffed the Read Bird, waving a claw, “I gave him a large cabin to himself. I didn’t think you and Ato
would want him in here.”
“Shiver my timbers, NO.” Samuel looked ruefully across at the small berth the Philadelphia boy occupied on their last voyage. “He’ll never be the seaman Peter was, or the company either. He’d better keep out of my way C4 HAH! C4 or I’ll give him a taste of my belt.” Snatching up his spyglass and looking as stern as a kindhearted pirate well can, Samuel hurried out on deck.
Meanwhile, in the cabin next to the Captain’s, Tandy stood regarding himself mournfully in the small glass over his sea chest. He, too, had taken a shower and at Roger’s suggestion had donned one of Peter’s old pirate suits. “I am a King and the son of a King’s son,” muttered Tandy, staring sadly at the sallow reflection in the mirror. To tell the truth, the suit was not in the least becoming to the skinny and sullen young monarch. “I am a King and son of a King’s son and can bear anything,” he repeated dismally.
“Then bear a hand with the dinner,” yelled Roger, who had been peeking at him through the porthole. “All who eat must work, and under the hatches with lubbers!”
Pretending not to hear, Tandy sat resignedly on the side of his bunk, though he really was curious to look around the ship and see what Kobo was doing. From the galley came the cheerful rattle of pots and pans and the huge voice of Ato singing as he prepared the dinner. Gulls flew in excited circles all round the Crescent Moon, calling out their hoarse challenge and farewell, and Samuel Salt, leaning on the taffrail, gazed dreamily back at Patrippany Island. The Oz flags fluttering from the tall palms gave it quite a gay and festive appearance, and in spite of not seeing the Leopard
Men Samuel felt he had done a good day’s discovering.
“Ahoy below! How you coming?” called Samuel, leaning down to look at Nikobo.
The hippopotamus wagged her huge head.
“Fine! Just fine, mate,” she wheezed pleasantly.
“Hah! Good for you!” Samuel’s face broke into a broad grin as Kobo
remembered to call him “Mate.” “We’ll make an able-bodied seawoman of you
yet, my lass!”
CHAPTER 8
MAXIMS FOR MONARCHS
When Ato, banging boisterously on an iron frying pan with a wooden spoon, summoned all hands to dinner, Samuel and Roger responded with a rush. But Tandy remained sitting gloomily on his bunk. “Now what’s the matter?” demanded Samuel Salt as Roger, sent to call the young voyager, came flying back to the table.
“He says I may serve his dinner in the cabin,” snickered Roger, popping a biscuit into his mouth and swallowing it whole.
“Well, don’t you do it!” roared the Captain, bringing his fist down with an angry thump. “No use to start such nonsense!” “But he’s so thin and feeble. The poor child’s just full of raw roots and jungle grass,” murmured Ato, beginning to heap a platter with meat and vegetables. “Wait till he folds himself round some of these seafarin’ rations. He’ll be a different person.”
“And he’d better be!” rumbled the Captain of the Crescent Moon, pulling in his chair. “And if you and Roger want to spoil the little pest, go
ahead, but he’d better keep out of MY way. HAH!”
“I could drop the dinner on his head,” suggested Roger helpfully as Ato
handed him an appetizing tray for Tandy. “How would that be?” “Utterly reprehensible, and conduct unbecoming in a Royal Read Bird and
able-bodied seaman,” chuckled the ship’s cook, shaking his finger at Roger.
“Why don’t you try to help the little beggar and set him a good example?” Now Roger, in spite of his sharp tongue, was really a sociable and
kindhearted bird, and the sight of Tandy sitting so forlornly on his bunk
made him regret his teasing speeches. After all, the little fellow was far
from home and had had a hard time in the jungle. “Here!” he puffed, setting
down the tray and lighting the lantern. “This’ll put feathers on your
chest, young one, and mind you eat every scrap.” “Thank you,” answered Tandy so drearily that Roger with a shudder of
distaste fled back to the cheerful company of Samuel and Ato. But later,
when Samuel had gone below to pot the precious plants from Patrippany
Island and the ship’s cook was leaning over the rail conversing cozily with
the hippopotamus, Roger flew back to Tandy’s cabin resolved to help him if
he could. With calm satisfaction he noted that Tandy had eaten everything
on the tray. Lying on his back, the young King of Ozamaland was staring
solemnly up at the beams over his bunk.
“Ahoy! And what goes on here?” cried Roger, settling down on the old sea chest. “How about a turn on deck, my lad, and a bit of chatter with the
crew?”
“It is not seemly for a King and son of a King’s son to talk with his inferiors,” observed Tandy coldly.
“In-feer-iors!” screeched Roger, forgetting all his good intentions and mad
enough to nip the youngster’s nose right off. “Are you by any chance referring to me?”
“Ozamaland is a great and powerful country, and I am its King,” stated Tandy, turning his back on the Read Bird. At this, Roger let out another screech and then, suddenly remembering the purpose of his visit, took a long breath to steady himself. When he spoke again, his voice was both calm and reasonable. “Ozamaland may be a great and powerful country, and you may also be its King, but remember that you are no longer in Ozamaland,” explained Roger firmly. “You are on this ship by the express wish and kindness of the Captain and in the company of Kings and BETTER. WAIT!” Shaking a claw at Tandy’s back, Roger flew off to fetch one of Ato’s books from the shelf above the stove. Tandy was in the same position when he returned, but paying him no further attention, Roger pulled the lamp nearer and opened his volume. “When a King is in the company of Kings,” began the Read Bird impressively, “he is no longer a special or royal being, but merely a man among men, and as such must maintain his honor and standing by sheer worth and ability alone.”
“Who says that? What are you reading?” Tandy sat up with sudden interest, for his whole life had been spent in study and reflection, and the voice of the Read Bird was not unlike the voice of Woodjabegoodja, his royal instructor at home.
“I am reading Maxims for Monarchs,” answered Roger calmly, “a book of great authority and antiquity that has been used by the Rulers of Oz and Ev and the Nonestic Islands these many thousand years. No great and important country would think of being without a copy of this book,” he continued
severely.
“Strange, then, that I should not have heard of it,” mused Tandy, looking not quite so sure of himself. “We have no Maxims for Monarchs in Ozamaland.”
“Pooh, Ozamaland!” Roger dismissed the whole country with a shrug of his wing. “A country as young and unimportant as that would probably know nothing about such matters.”
“You mean my country is not so old or important as Oz and this two-penny island of your fat Master?” shouted Tandy angrily. “Of course not. Why, it’s not even been discovered, and whoever has been there?” demanded Roger disdainfully. “Take you, as its King, acting in this small upcountry fashion. What CAN a fellow think? HereFF20C4” Shoving the book toward the disagreeable young monarch, the Read Bird urged him to look for himself. With a puzzled frown, Tandy reread the passage Roger had just quoted.
“Well, even though your Master is a King, you’re not a King and neither is Samuel Salt,” said Tandy, looking at Roger with some of his former arrogance.
“Oh, isn’t he? Well, just lay to this, young fellow,” Roger shook his claw under Tandy’s upturned nose. “Samuel Salt is Captain of this ship, a Knight and the Royal Discoverer of Oz, which makes him seventy times as important as you, King Pins. He not only is boss of the Crescent Moon, but he ruled the sea, discovering countries for other Kings to govern, and if it were not for Samuel Salt and people like him, there wouldn’t be any Kingdoms or people like you to run them. See? As for me, I’m a Royal Read Bird and wouldn’t be a King for a minute. I can live my own life and go and
come as I please.”
“Then while I’m on this ship, I’m not a King at all,” said Tandy wonderingly. “Then what am I? What am I supposed to do?” The little boy looked puzzled and positively frightened.
“Why, you’re supposed to act like a person, that is, if possible,” sniffed Roger, reaching over for his book and looking at Tandy sideways down his bill. “What are you besides a King? What can you do that is useful or interesting?”
“Do, DO?” Tandy’s voice rose shrilly. “Why, er, why, I can draw pictures and ride an elephant.”
“Good!” Roger put up his claw to hide the grin that, in spite of his best efforts, began to spread round his bill. “Well, there isn’t much call for drawing or elephant-riding on a ship, but you can draw water to swab the decks, and I’ll teach you to ride the yards and follow the crosstree to the main topgallant mast in the blowingest blow that ever blowed. And depend upon it, young man, you’ll have more fun as a person than you ever had as a King. There’s no place for having fun like a ship!” “Fun!” said Tandy flatly and inquiringly. “What’s that?” “Tar and tobaccy jack! What are you tellin’ me?” Roger almost toppled off the sea chest. “Do you mean to sit there like a dumb image and tell me you’ve never had any fun? Never felt so bursting full of ginger and happiness you could sing or do a sailor’s hornpipe?” “It is not seemlyFF20C4” began the boy in a staid voice, “It isFF20C4” “Seemly! Great goosefeathers, are you alive or aren’t you?” gasped Roger. “What in paint did you do in that cussed country of yours before you got
