Kabumpo in Oz - Ruth Plumly Thompson (ebook reader android .TXT) 📗
- Author: Ruth Plumly Thompson
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“But it’s not our magic, your Highness,” explained Peg Amy, setting down the little kettle. “We found it, and we’re only trying to help Ozma.”
“Well, in that case,” Glinda could not help smiling at the Wooden Doll’s quaint appearance, “I shall be glad to assist you, as all of my magic has proved useless.”
“Aren’t you the Prince of Pumperdink?” she asked, nodding toward Pompa. The Prince bowed in his most princely fashion and assured her that he was and, after a few hasty explanations, Glinda promised to bring Ozma down in her chariot.
“Tell her, “trumpeted Kabumpo impressively, as the chariot rose in the air, “tell her that a young Prince waits below!”
While Pompa was still looking after Glinda’s chariot, Peg Amy came up to him and extended both her wooden hands.
“I wish you much happiness, Pompa dear,” said the Wooden Doll in a low voice.
Pompa pressed Peg’s hands gratefully. “If it hadn’t been for you I’d never have succeeded. You shall have everything you wish for now, Peg. Why, where are you going?” “Goodbye!” called Peg Amy, trying to keep her voice as cheerful as her painted face, and before anyone could stop her she began to run toward a little grove of trees.
“Come back!” cried the Prince, starting after her.
“Come back!” trumpeted Kabumpo in alarm.
“I’ll get her!” coughed Wag, hopping forward jealously. “I’ve known her the longest.”
Pompa and Kabumpo both started to run, too, but just at that minute down swooped the chariot and out jumped Ozma, the lovely little Ruler of Oz.
“At last!” gasped Kabumpo, pushing Pompa forward.
If Ozma was startled by their singular appearance, she was too polite to say so, and she returned Pompa’s deep bow with a still deeper curtsey.
“Glinda tells me you have come a long, long way just to help me,” said Ozma anxiously. “Is that so?”
“Princess!” cried Pompa, falling on his knee. “I know you are worried about your palace and your Courtiers and your friends. Two drops of that Triple Trick Tea” (he waved at the small kettle) “upon Ruggedo’s right foot and three on his left will set everything right!”
“But where did you get it-and why?” Ozma looked doubtfully at the Scarecrow.
“Might as well try it,” advised the Scarecrow.
“We will explain everything later,” puffed the Elegant Elephant. “Trust old Kabumpo, your Highness, and everything will turn out happily.”
“I believe I will,” smiled Ozma. “Will you try the Trick Tea, Glinda?”
Glinda took the kettle and poured it exactly as directed. First Ruggedo gave a gusty sigh that blew the clouds about in every direction.
“Look out!” warned Glinda.
Next instant they all fluttered down like a pack of cards, for Ruggedo had taken a step-a giant step that shook the earth as if it had been a block of jelly-and when they had picked themselves up Ruggedo was out of sight, tramping like a giant in a dream, back toward the Emerald City.
“You wait here!” cried Glinda to Ozma. “And I’ll follow him!” She sprang into her chariot.
“How do you know he’ll go back?” asked the little Ruler of Oz, staring with straining eyes for a glimpse of the giant.
“Because the Question Box said so,” chuckled Kabumpo triumphantly.
“Good magic!” approved the Scarecrow. “But where is that charming Peg? I think I’ll run find her.”
No sooner had the Scarecrow disappeared than Pompa, swallowing very hard, again approached Ozma. But Ozma, still looking after Glinda’s vanishing chariot, was hardly aware of the Prince of Pumperdink.
Poor Pompa dropped on his knee (which had a large hole in it by this time) and began mumbling indistinct sentences. Then, as Kabumpo frowned with disgust, the Prince burst out desperately, “Princess, will you marry me?”
“Marry you?” gasped the little Ruler of Oz. “Good gracious, no!”
PRINCE POMPADORE jumped up quickly.
“I told you she wouldn’t!” he choked, looking reproachfully at Kabumpo. “I’m not half good enough.”
“He doesn’t always look so scratched up and shabby,” wheezed Kabumpo breathlessly. “We’ve been scorched and pinched and kidnapped. We’ve been through every kind of hardship to save your Highness-and now!” The Elegant Elephant slouched against a tree, the picture of discouragement. He seemed to have forgotten the jewels that were to have won the Princess for Pompa and his threat of running off with her should ,she refuse him.
“Why, you don’t even know me,” cried Ozma, dismayed by even the thought of marrying; for though the little Ruler of Oz has lived almost a thousand years she is no older than you are and would no more think of marrying than Dorothy or Betsy Bobbin or Trot. Ruling the Kingdom of Oz takes almost all of Ozma’s time and in any that is left she wants to play and enjoy herself like any other sensible little girl. For Ozma is only a little girl fairy after all.
“I’m not going to marry anybody!” she declared stoutly. Then, because she really was touched by Pompa’s woebegone appearance, she asked more kindly, “Why did you want to marry me especially?”
“Because you are the properest Princess in Oz,” groaned the Prince, leaning disconsolately against Kabumpo. “Because if we don’t Pumperdink will disappear and my poor old father and my mother and everyone.
“Not to speak of us,” gulped the Elegant Elephant.
“But where is Pumperdink, and who said it would disappear?” asked Ozma in amazement.
“And how did you happen to have this Trick Tea and come to rescue me?”
“The Prince always rescues the Princess he intends to marry,” said Kabumpo wearily. “I should think you’d know that.”
“Well, I’m very grateful, and I’ll do anything I can except marry you,” exclaimed Ozma, who was beginning to feel very much interested in this strange pair.
“Thank you,” said Kabumpo stiffly, for he was deeply offended. “Thank you, but We must be going. Come along, Pompa.”
“Don’t be a Gooch!” This time it was Pompa who spoke. “I’m going to tell her everything!”
And Pompa, being as I have told you before the most charming Prince in the world, made Ozma a comfortable throne of green boughs and, throwing himself at her feet, poured out the whole story of their adventures, beginning with the birthday party and the mysterious scroll. He told of their meeting with Peg Amy and Wag and ended up with the ride upon the Runaway Country.
Kabumpo stood by, swaying sulkily. He was very much disappointed in the Princess of Oz. He felt that she had no proper appreciation of his Pompa’s importance. “I’m going to find Peg,” he called finally. “She’s got more sense than any of you,” he wheezed under his breath as he swept grandly out of sight.
Ozma put both hands to her head as Pompa finished his recital and really it was enough to puzzle any fairy. Scrolls, live Wooden Dolls, a giant rabbit, a mysterious magician threatening disappearances and Ruggedo’s wicked use of the box of Mixed Magic.
“Goodness!” cried the little Ruler of Oz. “I wish the Scarecrow would come back. He’s so clever I’m sure he could help us; but first you had better bring me the magic box.”
Pompa rose slowly and, picking up all the little flasks and boxes that had spilled out when Wag pounded Ruggedo, he put them back into the casket and handed it to Ozma. She examined the contents as curiously as the others had done. The Expanding Extract was the only thing missing, for Ruggedo had poured the whole bottle over his head. The Question Box seemed to Ozma the most wonderful of all of Glegg’s magic.
“Why, all we have to do is to ask this box questions,” she cried in excitement. “Has my palace reached the Emerald City?” she asked breathlessly.
“Shake it three times,” said Pompa, as Ozma looked in vain for her answer.
“Yes,” stated the box after the third shake, and Ozma sighed with relief.
“I suppose you asked it if I were the Proper Princess mentioned in the scroll,” she said, a bit shyly.
The Prince shook his head. “Knew without asking,” said Pompa heavily.
“Do you mean to say you never asked it that?” gasped Ozma in disbelief. “Why, I am surprised at you.” And before Pompa could object she shook the little box briskly. “Who is the Princess that Pompa must marry?” she demanded anxiously.
“The Princess of Sun Top Mountain,” flashed the Question Box promptly. Then, as an afterthought, it added, “Trust the mirror and golden door knob!”
“Now, you see!” cried Ozma, jumping up in delight. “I wasn’t the Proper Princess at all!”
Pompa smiled faintly, but without enthusiasm. The thought of hunting another Princess was almost too much. “I wish I could just take Peg Amy and Wag and go back to Pumperdink without marrying anybody,” he choked bitterly.
“Now, don’t give up,” advised Ozma kindly. “It was very wrong of Glegg to cause you all this trouble. I’m going to keep his box of Mixed Magic and take away all his powers when I find him, but until I do, you’ll have to follow directions. Oh mercy! What’s that?”
They both ducked and turned around in a hurry, as a terrific thumping sounded behind them.
“It’s the Runaway Country again,” cried Pompa, seizing Ozma’s hands in distress, “and it’s caught all the others.”
The Scarecrow had climbed a tree, and was waving to them wildly as the Country galloped nearer. “Might as well come aboard,” he called genially. “This is a fast Country-no arguing with it at all.”
Ozma looked helplessly at Pompa, and the Prince had only time to grasp her more firmly when the Country scooped them neatly into the air. Down they tumbled, beside Peg Amy and Wag and the Elegant Elephant.
“What do you mean by this?” demanded Ozma, as soon as she regained her breath.
“Don’t you know this lady is the Ruler of all Oz?” cried Pompa warningly.
“Peg’s the Ruler of me,” replied the Country calmly. “I nearly lost her once, but now I’ve caught her and all the rest, and I am not going to stop until I’ve reached the Nonestic Ocean-giants or no giants.”
Ozma had been somewhat prepared for the Runaway Country by Pompa’s description, but she had never dreamed it would dare to run off with her. While Peg Amy began to coax it to stop, she took out Glegg’s little Question Box.
“How shall I stop this Country?” she whispered anxiously.
“Spin around six times and cross your fingers,” directed the Question Box.
This Ozma proceeded to do, much to the agitation of the Scarecrow, who thought she had taken leave of her senses. But next instant the Country came to a jolting halt.
“Peg, Princess Peg!” shrieked the Island. “I am bewitched, I can’t move a step!”
“Then everybody off,” shouted the Scarecrow, jerking a branch of a tree as if he were a conductor. “End of the line everybody off!” And they lost no time tumbling off the wild little Country.
“It seems too bad to leave it,” said Peg Amy regretfully, picking herself up.
“It threw us off without any feeling or consideration when it saw Ruggedo,” sniffed Kabumpo. “Therefore it has no claims on us whatsoever.”
“But couldn’t you do something for it?” asked Peg, approaching Ozma timidly. “It’s so tired of being a plateau. Couldn’t you let it be an island, and find someone to settle on it? I wouldn’t mind going,” she added generously.
“You shall do nothing of the sort,” cried Kabumpo angrily. “You’re going back to Pumperdink with Pompa and me.”
“She’s going with me,” cried Wag. “Aren’t you, Peg?”
“You seem to be a very popular person, smiled Ozma. “While a Country has no right to run away, and while I never heard of one
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