L. Frank Baum - Oz 36 Page 2

  “Oh, yes … that’s true. You are thinking of the Emerald City where Ozma lives in her castle, with the Wizard to help her. You know the Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow. The four gaily colored kingdoms around the green capitol are a long way from here.”

  “A long way . . repeated the crestfallen boy. ”It looks still longer to Chicago or Detroit or-”

  “Don’t begin that again, please,” said the whale in a superior tone of voice. “Never heard of such places, and what’s more, I don’t take much stock in what you say. If you are aiming to go anywhere, why, in thunderbust, don’t you go to the Emerald City.

  There is a city to really talk about. The most mystical, magical city in existence, set in the very center of creation. It’s a whale of a country!”

  “Have you ever been there?” Bucky ventured to ask. “What a question!” sputtered the whale in disgust and he spouted a stream of water high into the air, then subsided with an impatient snort. “Since you ask it, I must admit that I’ve always intended to go, but never got around to it. In fact, I’ve really been so busy, with one thing and another… beside all this, I don’t know how to get there.”

  “Do you need a pilot? I’m a good pilot.” Bucky’s voice was eager.

  “The very word gives me the shivers.”

  “How do you like the name of Skipper?”

  “I’ll take the afternoon off to think it over. I’m tired out. Since those pirates captured me, I’ve had no rest. For two years they kept me laughing, day and night. What I need is to have a sad spell. You amuse yourself while I take a snooze.”

  And the whale began to hum a heart-breaking sailor’s chanty. He closed his quivering eyes so that Bucky could not see the tears that filled them.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Jones Cousins

  IT was evident that the whale did not want to be disturbed.

  Bucky stepped quietly to one side, sliding his hand along the smooth handrail until he came to a small door on one side of the whale’s head. He opened this door and saw that an old ship’s lantern was burning beyond the entrance. Hesitating for a moment, he peered within.

  “Make up your mind if you are going in,” suggested the whale without opening his eyes, “and, if you do, make yourself at home.”

  With this encouragement, Bucky stepped quickly through the door, which closed quietly behind him.

  The space was built into a cozy, fair-sized cabin with bunks for sleeping. He could see very clearly by the light of the lantern that swung from a heavy chain fastened in the ceiling. Once again the story of Jonah flashed through his mind.

  Compact and convenient as the cabin was, everything had been left topsy-turvy by the pirate band. Blankets and pillows were strewn around. Broken dishes and cups littered the floor in careless disorder and clattered from side to side with every pitch of the

  floating whale.

  “Only pirates would be so untidy,” Bucky thought as he stumbled over a rope that had become entangled in the wheels of a silver cannon. Everything seemed out of its place and this was annoying to the boy who had been trained to the strict order of his uncle’s tug boat. It didn’t take him long to make the cabin shipshape; to fold the blankets, pick up the broken rubbish, and collect in one place a great number of interesting trappings that the pirates had left was the work of but a few moments. And while busy with the tidying, he had time to explore every interesting corner.

  At the rear of the cabin were a number of doors. They looked as if they might lead to closets. He opened one and found that it was piled to the ceiling with pies that the pirates had stolen. Apple, blueberry, mince and pumpkin pies, great stacks of them together with cinnamon buns, biscuits and crullers. All were arranged in perfect order and wrapped in oil paper to keep them fresh.

  Recalling the whale’s invitation “to make himself at home,” Bucky helped himself to a handful of delicious crullers.

  “Can anything beat my luck?” he thought as he bit

  into one.

  Rummaging around in his search for dry clothes, he

  pulled an old, iron-bound sea chest from under the table. It was filled with odds and ends, including a fine red coat trimmed with gold braid. It was just his size.

  Hidden under the clothes were gold trinkets and jewels. At the bottom of the chest he found a flat box, marked-

  Meddle with us and you may EXPLODE T.D.H. AND F

  It was exactly what to expect to find in a pirate’s chest and the boy’s fingers itched to open it. Finally his curiosity got the better of him and he lifted the lid.

  Inside were four silver doorknobs marked Tom, Dick, Harry and Flummux. Closing the box he returned it as quickly as he could, covering it carefully with the clothing. He shoved the chest back under the table.

  “Better leave that alone. It might spoil my luck,” Bucky said to himself and turned to other fascinating things. Over each bunk was a clock with dials to regulate the length of sleep, from a cat nap of three minutes to a long sleep of three weeks.

  After all he had been through, he felt completely worn out, although it was not yet bedtime. He knew he could sleep twelve hours at least. “I’ll take a

  chance,” he said and set the clock, jumped into the bunk and was soon fast asleep.

  Exactly twelve hours later he awoke to find himself sprawled on the floor, for the bunk had tilted downward and slipped him out very gently. At first, Bucky was slightly dazed, then the events of the day before and the peculiar working of the clock all came back to him in a flash. He opened the door, just a crack, to make sure his memory was right. Then he stepped out into the sunshine.

  4 “Happy daybreak!” greeted the whale with a wide

  smile of welcome.

  “Sunshine to you!” answered the boy, “and how is your sadness?”

  “Really I can’t tell you how a little sadness spunks me up. What a relief it is after years of monotonous laughing. From now on, I can tell you, I’ll feel better without those disgraceful pirates crowded inside my er-er-cabin! To be stuffed, week after week, with ridiculous buccaneers! Indeed, my friend, it is a happy day for me to have you here.” The whale paused, and then continued, giving an embarrassed little cough: “By-the-way… we have never been properly introduced. Allow me to present myself-my name is David. What do you call yourself?”

  “My friends call me Bucky-my last name is Jones

  Bucky Jones, to be exact.”

  “Now isn’t that the strangest thing?” drawled the whale. “My last name is Jones, too. I wonder if we are related. Cousins - or, at least, second cousins. Bucky and Davy Jones! We should get along swimmingly. Ho! Ho!!”

  “If you are willing to take a passenger, I cannot think of anything that would be more fun,” said the boy, seating himself on the rail and gazing up into the whale’s honest face.

  “You have come aboard as my friend. My cabin is yours. You will be my bosom friend.”

  “That’s fine! I certainly thank you. I’ll try to make myself useful.”

  “It’s a bargain!! Let’s get started-and be careful that you don’t fall overboard,” suggested big Davy as he flipped himself around and started for the shore at a speed that almost took away the boy’s breath.

  “Why such a hurry?” faltered Bucky.

  “I want to catch something!”

  “Catch something? What?”

  “The high tide,” laughed Davy.

  The pink spray flew high on either side as the whale plunged forward, lightly skipping from wave to wave.

  His swift spurt soon brought them in sight of land

  where, to the west, towering cliffs rose straight out of the ocean. No beach was to be seen; nothing but rough, forbidding rocks. To Bucky it seemed impossible to find a foothold anywhere on that rock-ribbed shore.

  The whale was more familiar with the coast. Without the slightest hesitation he swung himself into a hidden opening that the boy had not noticed. With just enough room to squeeze through, he squeezed.

  The ti
de was running in at a great rate! This helped them go forward.

  “Hold fast now,” warned the whale. “If I get a good start, I can do it easily.” He doubled his speed and the water seethed and boiled under him.

  They were in a small river where the water tumbled down a mountain slope with the thunder of a cascade. Gaining headway every second, Davy bore through the rushing rapids that roared from the heights above. With the good management that came from a clear head, the great whale splashed and wriggled his way up and up until he finally reached the top of the slope. He was breathing in gasps but grinning happily. Now that the danger was past, the boy rubbed the water from his eyes and looked about him. From this point, the river continued down hill, but the water ran up.

  Leisurely, Davy floated down.

  “Few travelers get through this Up-hill-down-hill River. Quite a stunt for an old fellow like me. Don’t you think so?” asked the whale, well pleased with himself. “All you need is confidence. Just a little confidence…”

  “And plenty of action,” added Bucky.

  “You are quite right. Action-plenty of action-that’s it precisely; you have the right idea.”

  Davy waited to get his breath back before he spoke again. “I once pulled a lot of Dollfins up here. They still live here. In fact, they have established quite a school for themselves. I’d like to have you meet them.”

  On the down-hill side of the River, Davy swam with a lazy stroke, pointing out to his passenger places of interest in the distant, rolling hills. He seemed proud of the surrounding country but to Bucky it looked bleak and desolate.

  “You see the top of the next hill? That is where we’ll find the Dollfins.”

  Again the River began to run up-hill. This was a longer stretch and at times it seemed to Bucky as though they would never make the grade. But the whale did it, and they drifted into the quiet water of

  a large lake.

  “Look, look!” he cried. “There is one of the little giddyheads now! She sees me!” and Davy bellowed a greeting that echoed among the hills.

  CHAPTER 4

  The School of Dollfins

  IMMEDIATELY, hundreds of little wooden heads popped up out of the lake. Eagerly they swam toward the big, good-natured visitor.

  These pretty, doll-headed figures were something like old-fashioned mermaids. They had fish tails, sure enough, but every time they moved their wooden arms or their necks they squeaked.

  Such a babble and chatter Bucky had never before heard as came when the Dollfins clambered over the whale’s polished back.

  “Meet my friend Bucky Jones,” said Davy turning one eye toward the boy and the other in the direction of the girls. “He’s a passenger as well as my friend.”

  Turning their wooden heads toward the boy, they stared with wide, painted eyes.

  The whale continued to speak: “My friend is a stranger in these parts-he’s a pilot and an experienced traveler-and, also, he is a cousin of mine-

  and-”

  “That’s enough!” squeaked one of the Dolifins. “So many things all in ONE BOY? I can hardly believe it.”

  A round-faced Doll took hold of Bucky’s hand. A little dimple in her fat, painted cheek was something she wanted everyone to see. With her round, painted eyes close to the boy’s nose, she gazed vacantly over his head. By the time she had finished shaking his hand, Bucky’s fingers were numb with cold.

  Although the Dollfins were pleased, they were also puzzled. Certainly they were not elated as they crowded around the boy.

  “At last,” they sighed in a half-hearted way, “you have brought us our playmate.”

  Hundreds of disappointed eyes glared at the astonished boy.

  “Well-now-not exactly-” faltered Davy.

  “I guess we’ll have to make the best of it,” the Dollfins interrupted. Though their manners were not cordial, they came a little closer to Bucky. One straightened his necktie; another slicked his hair. “The first thing we will do is change his name to

  Ducky.”

  Gently he eased them away, as politely as possible,

  but one little giddyhead clung to his arms with so much enthusiasm he hardly knew what to do. This persistent little doll got one cold hand down his back, and with the other, she grabbed his hair and held him tight.

  Roughly, Bucky shook her loose and she squeaked:

  “That’s no way to play!” Her painted eyes snapped saucily as she gave the boy a push and turned angrily to the whale: ”He’s too rough.

  They all began to cry, in chorus: “Why didn’t you bring us a girl to play with? This is only a boy-we want a girl!”

  The poor whale was so embarrassed his eyes rolled uneasily from side to side.

  “Listen to me, my little friends. Quiet, please. My cousin Bucky is my pilot. Pilots are forbidden to play with dolls when on duty.” The whale turned to Bucky. “Isn’t that the truth?”

  “Those are the facts,” the boy answered briefly.

  “Bosh with your facts-we want a playmate, and he has to stay here and play with us whether he wants to or not,” shrilled a fat little Dollfin clapping her wooden hands angrily to add force to her words. “Of course we prefer a girl but we’ll condescend to take this boy as a poor substitute.”

  “Oh, no, no-” The whale’s voice was firm. “I’ll find a girl for you some other time.”

  “That’s what you’ve promised us for years but you have not kept your promise.”

  “This awful boy will stay right here with us until you bring us a nice girl, and that’s a fact for you!”

  Bucky had stepped to one side during this argument. The whale whispered to him out of the side of his mouth: “Get into the cabin quickly and lock the door. If they ever get inside, good-bye to everything.” One step forward and the boy was surrounded by chattering dolls trying to pull him into the lake. He began to sing: “Old Mother Hubbard-she went to the cupboard-” Another step; he kept on singing the old song-“When she got there-the cupboard was bare!” His hand was on the door, and the dolls waited expectantly for him to show them a cupboard. But he turned the knob quickly and darted inside, slamming the door and finishing the song as he slid across the floor, which gave a sudden tilt downward. For, with a playful lurch, Davy had washed the Dolifins overboard and dived to the bottom of the lake. Through the thick sides of the whale, Bucky heard him say:

  “Some other trip, I may bring you a girl.” With each flit of the whale, Bucky slid back and forth across the floor.

  “Can all this be real?” he thought, “Or am I dreaming? No, I’m not dreaming. I’m wide awake-” he decided when his head struck a heavy mahogany beam. “A bit fantastic, maybe, but very real-” He was convinced of the reality as he clung to the beam, not knowing what to expect next.

  By and by the floor became level.

  Davy rose to the surface and lolled happily in the bright sunshine. He had left the dolls far behind and was making good time as he churned the blue surface of the lake into sparkling ripples.

  Through a crack in the door, Bucky made sure that the dolls were gone before he ventured on deck.

  “I’ve seen all kinds of fish but those Dollfins are extraordinary, aren’t they?” he asked, still bewildered.

  “Don’t get upset by a little fuss like that. From what I’ve been told there are tougher problems to be met than Dollfins before we get to where we are

  going.”

  “The question is-where are we going?”

  “No question about it; we are going to Oz.”

  “Oz? I thought we were already in OzI”

  “In a way, yes-but mostly no! Of course, you understand that we are only on the outside edge. Everything will be different when we get inside this really truly wonderland. I am only a determined old whale,

  I know, but I intend to see all the marvelous things I have heard about.”

  The boy’s expression showed his indecision. “I’d like to go along with you,” he said, “But I can’t make up my mind. If
it’s anything like I’ve seen so far, I’d rather go back home.”

  “I’m not forcing you to come,” replied the whale. “I can put you ashore if you prefer.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ll go with you,” Bucky said hurriedly. “You are the only person I’ve met in this queer place who is not queer.”

  “I’ve lived here a long time,” the whale responded. “Longer than I would like to admit. And you, my dear cousin, are the only one I’ve ever met that I would ask to pilot me to Oz.”

  The wise old whale at last won his way and an agreement was reached. The only sure information he could offer to his pilot was the general direction. They must travel west. From that alone they mapped their course.

  This progress in their plans put the whale in an excellent humor.

  Straight ahead were high mountain peaks rising directly in their path.

  “Don’t give them a thought,” the words fairly oozed from Davy. “Mountains are nothing for me to cross

  with you to pilot me! Now, cousin, you’d best build up your strength. Go right into the cupboard and get yourself a big mince pie!”

  Before Bucky had finished eating the juicy pie, there came to his ears the sound of a roaring torrent of clear green water dashing wildly over the cliffs above him.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Map

  JUST you and I together,” chuckled Davy. “We’re off!! Where no pirates will catch me nor again turn me into a wild, floating hotel.”