L. Frank Baum - Oz 22 - The Giant Horse Of Oz

The Giant Horse Of Oz – Oz 22

L. Frank Baum

To my big-best and Only brother Richard Shuff Thompson this book is affectionately dedicated.

Ruth Plumly Thompson

The Giant Horse of Oz

List of Chapters

Chapter

1 The King of the Ozure Isles

2 The Golden Pear

3 The Strange Public Benefactor

4 Finding a Mortal Maiden

5 In theCaveofQuiberon

6 The Wicked Soothsayer

7 The Trials of Tattypoo

8 The Man in the Bottle

9 King of the Uplanders

10 High Times Up Town

11 The King ofCaveCity

12 Escape fromCaveCity

13 The Round-abouties

14 A Meeting of Celebrities

15 The Shutter Faces

16 The Lost Queen Returns

17 A Royal Welcome

18 The Tale of Tattypoo

19 Another Wishing Pill

20 Rulers East and North

CHAPTER 1

The King of the Ozure Isles

FAR to the North, walled in on all sides by the craggy slopes of theMunchkinMountains, lies

the great Lost Lake of Orizon. And glittering on its blue bosom, like a large and lovely necklace, rest the

Ozure Isles of Oz. Now Oz itself, this mysterious land about which we read and hear so often, is a large

oblong Kingdom divided into four smaller Kingdoms with theEmeraldCityin the exact center. Here dwells

Ozma, the present ruler, a little fairy of great gentleness and power. While all the Kingdoms in Oz are

subject to Ozma, each has its own special sovereign.

For instance, the Northern Country of the Gillikens is governed by the Good Witch Tattypoo;

the Red Land of the Quadlings, by Glinda the Good Sorceress of the South; the Western and Yellow

Empire of the Winkies is under the kindly control of Nick Chopper, the Tin Woodman of Oz; the blue

Munchkin Country is governed by a King of whom nothing much has been heard for many a long year.

But be that as it may, it is in the Munchkin Country that the great Lost Lake of Orizon lies.

The waters of Orizon are deep, salt and dashing, so that it is more like an inland sea than a

lake. On ancient Oz maps Orizon is marked by a large blue circle, but so steep and impenetrable are the

paths over the mountains, so beset with dangerous beasts and yawning chasms, few travelers have

glimpsed its sparkling waters, or the islands rising so dazzlingly from its center. On Oz maps today,

Orizon is not shown at all, and theLostLakeand its jeweled islands have long since been forgotten by the

merry inhabitants of Ozma's Kingdom.

Except for the blue gulls that circle endlessly over the Sapphire City of Cheeriobed, no one

thinks of, or visits the Ozure Isles, at all. Yet in the whole curious Land of Oz is no Kingdom more

interesting or delightful. There are five of the Ozure Isles, each small and sparkling with flashing cliffs of

iridescent gems and shores honeycombed with caves and jeweled grottoes. Instead of pebbles, the

beaches are strewn with precious stones, opals, rubies and amethyst, turquoise and pearls, but more

numerous than any other of the precious stones are the glittering sapphires that color the whole island

realm with their dazzling blue light, and from which Cheeriobed, the King, has fashioned his capital City.

The Ozurians number one thousand and seven and are a tall fair haired race of Munchkins. In

olden days they were the happiest, most care-free people in Oz, but that was before Mombi, the wicked

witch of the North, stole the young Queen and sent the monster Quiberon to guard the waters of Orizon.

Since then, the good King and his subjects have been virtual prisoners on the islands. The great flock of

sea horses on which they were wont to ride to the mainland have been destroyed by this pitiless monster

and only when Quiberon is sleeping dare the inhabitants venture down to the shore. You see in

aquariums, the sea horses that abound in our own tropical waters. Well, the sea horses of Orizon were

like that, only as large as Arabian steeds, with flashing manes, great winged fins and powerful shining tails.

To ride upon their backs must have been more pleasurable than anything I can imagine and their loss was

one of the greatest griefs this island monarch had suffered. One would wonder that so unfortunate a King

could endure life at all.

But Cheeriobed was so kind and gay and so naturally merry that even in the face of all his

misfortunes he was calm and uncomplaining and often had whole days at a time when he forgot to be

unhappy. Upon his shimmering islands grew everything necessary for comfort and ease and his subjects

were light hearted and industrious and always obedient to his desires. Then, to see the sun flashing on the

jeweled rocks and sparkling shores of the Ozure Isles by day and the moon silvering the spires of the

SapphireCityby night would lift the heaviest heart. To further lighten the sorrows of this good King, there

was Philador, his son. Nowhere in the four Kingdoms of Oz lived a gayer, handsomer and more

companionable little fellow. Then too, Cheeriobed was fortunate enough to have at his castle a juggler

who could balance ten chairs and some more things upon his chin, a minstrel who knew a thousand

songs, and a carpet that could beat itself. So on the rare occasions when Quiberon lay dozing, life was

gay and happy in the blue castle.

On one such calm and sunny morning, Cheeriobed, his throne drawn close to the great

windows, was gazing dreamily off toward theMunchkinMountains. He was thinking of the old happy

days and only half listening to the strumming of Umtillio, the minstrel. At his side, Toddledy, faithful scribe

and Prime Moneyster was balancing the castle accounts, while Palumbo, the court juggler, balanced

seven books, three ink wells and a gold chair on the tip of his nose.

"Has Your Highness ever considered," panted Palumbo, speaking with difficulty because of

the books and ink bottles-"Has Your Highness ever considered how the noses and chins in this Kingdom

have been neglected? With a little training, I could teach the Islanders to carry their entire possessions in

this careless and interesting fashion. Take your own nose for instance-" The King passed his hand

uneasily over his nose and Toddledy looking up from his accounts began to mutter crossly under his

breath. "Take your own nose," continued Palumbo persuasively, "with a little practice you could balance

the fire tongs, the screen and the sapphire clock itself upon the tip. We'll begin with a few simple

exercises."

Paying no attention to Toddledy, the Court Juggler set down the books and ink bottles and

lifted the huge clock from the mantel. "Now then," he puffed earnestly, "if Your Highness will kneel and

turn the head to the left." Cheeriobed with a resigned wink at his Prime Moneyster had just got down

upon his knees, when a shuddering explosion shook the castle. The jeweled chandeliers rattled like

castanets, ornaments left their accustomed places and flew through the air, chairs slid into corners, and

the carpet that could shake itself, shook off three tables and a chair and rolling up so rapidly it caught

Umtillio unawares, reared stiffly on end and stood in a corner. Cheeriobed had fallen heavily to the floor

and small wonder. At the first tremor Palumbo had dropped the sapphire clock upon his head and taken

to his heels.

"Quiberon!" quavered Toddledy, rushing over to the window and drawing aside the blue

curtains, "Great Totomos-what does he want now?"

As if to answer the old Prime Moneyster the castle rocked more violently than ever. The

waters of Orizon below began to toss and bubble, and presently from their churning depths rose the

frightful head of Mombi's monster. No sea serpent was ever uglier than Quiberon, fire shot from his eye

and smoke from his nostrils. He had the head scales and talons of a dragon and the long hideous body of

a giant fear-fish. As Toddledy clutched at the curtains to keep from falling, Quiberon sent a great cloud of

smoke upward. It twisted, curled and spiraled, forming itself finally into a long black sentence, the words

hanging like a dark threat in the clear morning air.

"Send a mortal maiden to wait upon me or in three days I will destroy you utterly!" As

Toddledy with smarting eyes read this monstrous message, Quiberon showed all of his red tusks and

dove beneath the waves. At the same instant Akbad the Soothsayer came tearing into the throne room.

"Dunce!" shrieked Akbad, shaking his long finger under Toddledy's nose, "why do you stand

there idle when the whole Kingdom is in danger? The King is in danger, the Prince is in danger, I, Akbad

the Soothsayer, am in danger of being destroyed utterly. Utterly! Utterly! Utterly!"

Racing around in a frenzied circle, Akbad began to tear out handfuls of his hair and cast it

upon the floor. His loud outcries aroused the unconscious monarch. Rubbing the lump that the sapphire

clock had raised upon his forehead, Cheeriobed rose and unsteadily made his way to the window. The

black sentence was growing fainter but was still legible. After reading it twice, the unhappy monarch

groaned heavily and dropped his head upon the sapphire sill. "Where are we to find a mortal maiden and

even if we do find one, who would condemn her to such a fate?" mourned the King.

"Here comes Jewlia," panted Toddledy, ducking his head as a small Ozurian came sailing

through the window. Each of the Ozure Islanders took turns serving Quiberon and the last to take charge

of his cavern was Jewlia, the Court Jeweler's daughter. Not caring for land food Quiberon had never

molested the keepers of his cavern. So far, he had satisfied himself with devouring the sea horses,

preventing any of the Ozure Islanders from leaving theIslandsand shaking them up whenever he wished to

amuse himself. His treatment of Jewlia was therefore all the more alarming. While the King continued to

groan and Akbad to tear out his hair, Toddledy hurried anxiously over to the little maiden.

"My child!" stuttered loddledy touching her gently on the arm-"What has happened, are you

hurt?"

"I was only telling him stories," wailed Jewlia, wiping her eyes on her blue silk apron.

"A pernicious and wicked habit," fumed Akbad, shaking his finger at the trembling little girl.

"What kind of stories, may I ask?"

"Stories about Ozma of Oz and the three little mortal maids who have come to live in the

EmeraldCity," sobbed Jewlia. "I found them in an old history book in my father's shop, and when I

finished the last story-" Jewlia paused to wipe her eyes-"Quiberon rushed out of the cave, and when he

came back, seized me in his talons and hurled me through this window." Burying her head in her hands

Jewlia began to weep afresh.

"There, there," begged Cheeriobed, patting her kindly on the shoulder. "Don't cry, my dear."

"Let her cry!" roared Akbad, stamping furiously up and down. "The mischievous wench, with

her tales of mortal maidens, has ruined us all. Nothing can save us now." As if to emphasize his gloomy

prediction, the castle began to tremble violently. Holding to his crown with both hands-it was inset with

cobble stones which are extremely rare on a jeweled island-Cheeriobed sat down hard upon his throne.

"I must think!" muttered the King in a faint voice.

"Think if you can!" sniffed the Soothsayer, hooking his arm around a pillar. "Can you think a

mortal maid into the monster's cave? Can you think of a way to leave the islands, even?"

"Has Your Majesty forgotten the golden pear?" Swinging backward and forward on the

window curtains as the castle rocked to and fro, Toddledy peered out inquiringly at the King.

"The pear!" chattered Cheeriobed. "No one must pick the golden pear. That is for Prince

Philador and to be picked only in times of extreme danger."

"What do you call this?" demanded Akbad indignantly. "Are we to be destroyed without lifting

a finger to save ourselves?"

"Philador? Where is Philador?" groaned Cheeriobed, putting both hands to his ears, as

Toddledy and Akbad began to scream hoarsely at each other. "Send for the Prince!" Glad to escape

from the confusion, and keeping her footing with difficulty, Jewlia ran off to search for the little Prince. By

the time she reached the beach, the islands had stopped quivering. Breathlessly Jewlia hastened to the

hidden cove where Philador was usually to be found sailing his toy fleet. At the first quake, he had thrown

himself face down on the rocks. But so accustomed was Philador to the tempers of Quiberon that he

thought nothing of the terrible quakes that rocked the islands from time to time. When the shaking had

ceased, Philador jumped up and was unconcernedly feeding the blue gulls as Jewlia came running over

the shining sands. As quickly as she could, Jewlia told him of Quiberon's latest demand and of his dark

threat to destroy the Kingdom. Then arm in arm they made their way back to the castle. The carpet that

could shake itself had unrolled, and Umtillio, looking terribly tossed and ruffled, was sitting in the center,

plucking out a sad tune upon his harp. He nodded mournfully as the two children came tip-toeing into the

throne room. Akbad was feverishly thumbing over an old book of Necromancy, and Toddledy and

Cheeriobed were conversing in subdued whispers.

"The only one who can help us is the Good Witch of the North," mused Cheeriobed, as

Philador sank down at his feet and rested his head affectionately against his father's knee.

"Let me go to her," begged the little Prince eagerly. "Surely she will help me find my mother

and destroy Quiberon before he destroys us.

Cheeriobed shook his head quickly and decidedly. "No! No! It is too dangerous. Besides,

there is no way to cross the lake. We must think of something else." Taking off his crown. Cheeriobed

gazed sadly off into the distance. Long ago, word had been brought by the blue gulls of the capture of

Mombi, the wicked witch of the North, by Tattypoo, who now ruled in her stead. Great had been the

rejoicing on the Ozure Isles and hopefully Cheeriobed had waited for Tattypoo to restore his Queen and

deliver him from the cruel clutches of Quiberon. But time had passed and nothing had happened. Much

of Mombi's mischief had been remedied by the Good Witch of the North, but many of Mombi's

misdeeds were not known to her or anyone else in the Land of Oz, so not knowing of Cheeriobed's

misfortunes, Tattypoo had done nothing to help him. But the good King always felt that some day

Tattypoo would find out about Quiberon and come to his rescue. As he continued to gaze unseeingly

straight ahead, as Akbad continued to mutter and Toddledy to groan, the little Prince grew more and

more miserable and unhappy. Finally he slipped unnoticed from the throne room and, running down to

the shores of the lake, cast himself gloomily on the sapphire rocks. Surely it was sad to live on the

loveliest islands in Oz and never to be safe or happy.

"If I could just find a way to cross the lake," muttered Philador, feeling in his pockets for some

crumbs to throw the gulls, "then I could find the Good Witch of the North." The gulls were his constant

and never failing friends and, as one and then another settled down on the rocks beside him, he told them

of Quiberon's demand for a mortal maiden and his threat to destroy the Kingdom. In Oz, as you all

know, the birds and beasts can speak and the blue gulls not only listened sympathetically to the little

Prince but talked among themselves of Quiberon's cruelty.

"Come back, Princeling, when the moon is high," whispered a little blue lady gull, when the

others had flown away. "Come back when the moon is high. I have thought of a way to help you!"

Comforted in spite of himself, but resolved to say nothing at all to the King, Philador crept quietly back to

the castle.

CHAPTER 2

The Golden Pear

THE great silver bells in the sapphire tower had tolled ten. It was night time, and still

Cheeriobed and his councillors had thought of no plan to appease Quiberon. In gloomy knots the Ozure

Islanders gathered to discuss the almost certain destruction that threatened their Kingdom. In the castle

Toddledy and the King pored over ancient books and maps trying to devise some way out of their

difficulties, but as Quiberon would allow no one to leave the islands how were they to search for a mortal

maiden?

"And even if we did find one," sighed Cheeriobed wearily, "I would never turn her over to a

monster like that. We who are magically constructed can be destroyed without pain, but a mortal can be

hurt and no one shall ever suffer to save me or my Kingdom."

"Then we must perish, I suppose." Pushing his specs high up on his forehead, Toddledy

looked resignedly at the King. "It might be quite restful to be destroyed," observed the poor Prime

Moneyster, trying to look on the cheerful side of things. But Umtillio rose with a protesting screech and

striking both fiddles at once sobbed dolefully.

"Oh no, no, no! Let us go, go, go, far away! Cheerio Oh, Oh! You don't know, know, know,

what you say! To be de- destroyed with life half enjoyed is too bad, Can't you see, see, see, it would be,

be, be, much too sad?"

"Well, we still have two days," mumbled the King unhappily. "Maybe something will turn up.

"Nothing will ever turn up here but Your Majesty's nose," sniffed Akbad, who had been

listening to the conversation with growing impatience. "You may stay here and be destroyed if you like,

but I, I, Akbad, the Soothsayer, shall think of something better!"

Folding his robes haughtily about him, Akbad swept from the throne room. In his own high

tower he flung the sapphire casements wide and leaning both elbows on the sill, stared moodily out into

the night.

"Surely it is better for one mortal to be destroyed than a whole Kingdom," reflected Akbad.

"The King's a soft hearted old Joffywax. The way to solve a problem is to begin at the beginning and go

on to the conclusion. Quiberon desires a mortal maiden and a mortal maiden he shall have. Now where

am I to find a mortal maiden?" Striding to the bookcase he pulled out a history of Oz which opened

almost instantly to the picture of three little girls sitting in a hammock.

"Dorothy, Betsy and Trot," muttered the Soothsayer reading the names under the picture.

"These little girls, though native Americans, now live in the Emerald City of Oz and are loved and

honored by the entire populace." Akbad paused thoughtfully after reading this sentence, then tearing out

the page stuffed the picture into his sleeve. "One will be quite enough," he remarked, with a little shrug of

his shoulders, "and all that I have to do now is to reach the Emerald City." Standing before a huge map of

Oz that covered one side of the wall, Akbad traced with his finger a line between Sapphire City and the

capital. Not a great distance, to be sure, but to the old Soothsayer who had never been away from the

Ozure Isles in his entire life, it seemed a long and perilous journey. Sinking into an easy chair he began

tugging at his whiskers and pulling his long nose and soon a perfectly splendid plan popped into his

turbaned head.

"The pear!" puffed Akbad delightedly. "I will pick the golden pear and save myself and the

entire Kingdom. " Jerking out his magic descriptionary, a booklet all soothsayers carry in their pockets,

Akbad turned to the proper page though he knew almost by heart what it would say of the golden pear.

"In the gardens of the King grows an emerald tree, bearing always one golden fruit. This fruit shall be

plucked by the Prince of the realm in times of extreme danger or peril. It will immediately transport him

wheresoever he desires to go.

"If it transports a Prince it will surely carry a soothsayer," decided Akbad. "If the King is too

stupid to bid Philador to pick the pear I myself shall pluck it from the bough and save the people from

destruction."

The King, as it happened, was at that very moment thinking of the golden fruit. "If nothing turns

up tomorrow," yawned His Majesty, blowing out the tall candle beside his bed, "I shall command

Philador to pick the magic pear. I have lived a long time and do not mind being destroyed, but he is too

young to suffer destruction." Comforted by the thought that the little Prince, at least, would escape so

hard a fate, Cheeriobed sank down among his silk cushions and was soon fast asleep. His slumbers

would not have been so calm nor his dreams so untroubled had he seen the two figures that presently

stepped out of his castle. One passed from the Eastern Gateway into the gardens, the other from the

Western Doorway and, after looking all around to see that he was not observed, hastened down to the

beach.

In the moonlight the radiant capital of Cheeriobed floated like a City of dreams in a silver mist.

Looking over his shoulder at its sparkling turrets and spires, Philador wondered if he should ever have

the courage to leave so lovely a spot. Then catching a glimpse of the horrid head of Quiberon, rising

suddenly above the waters of Orizon, the little Prince shuddered and gathering his cloak about him

hurried down to the rocks. He wondered if the blue gull had kept her promise and looked anxiously up

and down the deserted strand. There was no one in sight and dejectedly he was about to return to the

castle when a low whistle from a nearby cave came floating up to him.

Running down and into the cave, Philador stopped short in perfect astonishment. Crouched

upon the rocks and regarding him with bright interested eyes was a giant blue gull twice as large as

Philador himself. On its head, the feathers grew into a circlet that rested like a crown upon its brow.

"You wish to leave the Ozure Isle?" asked the gull quietly. "Climb upon my back, then; you

have been kind and gentle to my subjects, therefore I the grand Mogull, King of all the land and sea

birds, will carry you wheresoever you wish to go.

For a moment Philador was too startled to move. Then as a deep roar from the throat of

Quiberon came reverberating through the grotto, he sprang upon the gull's back and clasping his arms

around its neck whispered hoarsely, "Carry me to the Good Witch of the North!"

With scarcely a flutter, the great gull rose, mounting higher and higher, till the Ozure Isles were

no more than sparkling dots on the waters of the Lake. Akbad, standing under the magic tree in the

King's garden, saw a great shadow cross the moon. Brushing his hand uneasily across his eyes he looked

again, but this time the shadow had gone. Concluding that it had been but a dark cloud, the Soothsayer

drew a deep breath and, leaning forward, broke the golden pear from the sacred bough. Now Akbad

hardly knew what to expect, but the thing that did happen exceeded his wildest imaginings. The pear in

his hands grew larger and larger, bursting finally with such a golden splutter and glare he was almost

blinded. Stars! It was a pair of wings!

Thoroughly frightened, the soothsayer fell back against the tree, putting up both hands to beat

off the whirling pinions. But it was no use. The great wings swooped down upon him and next moment

had fastened themselves to his shoulders. His heart, as they lifted him into the air, dropped so suddenly

into his boots both boots fell off. Motionless and helpless and just above the emerald tree he hung

suspended, trembling so violently his turban came unwound and fluttered like a banner in the evening

breeze. For about as long as you could count ten Akbad dangled limply between the golden wings. Then

recovering a little of his courage he moistened his lips and muttered weakly.

L. Frank Baum - Oz 22 - The Giant Horse Of Oz

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