L. Frank Baum - Oz 24 - The Yellow Knight Of Oz

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The Yellow Knight Of Oz – Oz 24

L. Frank Baum

by Ruth Plumly Thompson

This book is dedicated to my very dear and very little Aunt Gertrude!

[Ruth Plumly Thompson, 1930]

List of Chapters

Chapter

1 Sir Hokus Plans a Quest

2 The Knight's First Adventure

3 Queen Marcia of Marshland

4 Ploppa and Sir Hokus Escape

5 Concerning a Camel

6 Tuzzle at the Court of Oz

7 The Cruise of the Skyrocket

8 A Golden Princess

9 Sir Hokus Meets an Old Friend

10 The Deserted City

11 The Knight Loses His Camel

12 Camy at the Sultan's Court

13 King of the Quix!

14 The EnchantedForest

15 Five Travelers Meet

16 Speedy in Samandra

17 The Restoration of Corumbia

18 The Return of the Yellow Knight

19 For the Hand of a Princess

20 The Marriage of Marygolden

CHAPTER 1

Sir Hokus Plans a Quest

"I'AM minded said Sir Hokus of Pokes, drawing aside the green curtains and looking out over

the sparkling towers and spires of the Emerald City of Oz-" "I'am minded to go on a quest"

"Quest?'' shouted Scraps, the Patchwork Girl, handspringing over the sofa, capering up to the

Knight, and collapsing in front of him with a giggle. "What manner of quest, Sir Knight? Request or

conquest?

"Methinks we'll go upon a quest

East, North, or South, Sir Hoke, or West?

To slay a dragon? Or what ho!

What hey! What say? When do we go?"

"We!" Dropping the curtain, Sir Hokus looked sternly at the Patchwork Girl, then striding over

to a small sofa sat solemnly down beside Dorothy, a little girl fromKansasand a Princess of Oz. The

Knight and several more of Dorothy's friends were spending the evening in her cozy apartment in Ozma's

palace. "Wait till Monday," smiled Dorothy, looking up from a book she was reading. "Wait till Monday

and I'll go with you."

"Next week a questing we will go;

I'll break the news to those below,"

chortled Scraps with a gay bounce.

'Well, don't break all the furniture while you're about it," warned Dorothy, as the Patchwork

Girl vaulted easily over the sofa and fell through the door. "Oh, I do hope my blue dress will be finished

an time," exclaimed Trot, clasping her hands eagerly.

"Can I take Hank?" inquired Bettsy Bobbin, who was extremely fund of the little mule she had

brought fromAmerica. At this, Sir Hokus looked thoughtfully at his boots.

"In my day," mused the Knight mournfully, "maidens remained quietly at home, doing

household tasks, embroidering, watching from

towers, and so on-"

"How stuffy!" sniffed Bettsy Bobbin, sliding carefully into his lap, which his armor made rather

hard and uncomfortable. "How old-fashioned. Now don't be quaint! What fun is it watching from a

tower? And this embroidery and so on that you talk about ruins the eyes, and you know it!"

"Well, well," rumbled Sir Hokus, looking uneasily into Bettsy's bright eyes, "I see no signs of

ruin here, but let us speak of this to-morrow," and setting Bettsy gently on the floor, he bowed to all three

girls and went clanking down the gold-flagged hallway muttering unhappily to himself. "Odds fish and

funnels! Why did I ever mention this quest? Before morning every man, maiden, child, and kitten in the

castle will know of it. Go to, now! It is too bad! Go too, now! Why, that's just what they'll all want to do.

'Twill be a parade and no quest at all. By my Knight shirt, it is too much!" Reaching his great stone

chambers, Sir Hokus leaned against his four-post bed and stared gloomily at a picture of his friend the

Scarecrow on the opposite wall. And his fears, let me tell you, were well-founded, for news travels fast

in the Emerald City, especially good news. In less than an hour there was not a soul in that whole merrie

castle who had not heard from Scraps that the Good Knight of Oz was about to fare forth upon an

adventure.

In his tower room, Tik Tok, the machine man, marched sternly to and fro, practicing thrusts

and parries with an old cane. The Soldier with Green Whiskers began to brush his beard vigorously and

try to recall what he had done with his sword, his musket, and his military brushes. The little Wizard of

Oz, in his laboratory back of the throne room, took down his bag and began rubbing his hands briskly as

be sorted out the magic appliances best suited to a perilous adventure. Even Dorothy's pink kitten

stopped washing her face long enough to decide which bow she would wear upon this grand and exciting

occasion.

Now Oz, as nearly everyone knows, is the happiest Kingdom out of the world, a Kingdom so

unfashionable, informal and jolly, that Queen Ozma thinks nothing of jumping rope, and even the most

important court officials play tag and croquet in the gardens after tea. Perhaps this is because the Ruler of

Oz is a girl, a fairy, to be sure, but such an unassuming, gracious fairy that no one feels frightened or

embarrassed by her power or importance. Yet, Ozma of Oz is both powerful and important. Important

enough to govern the four great countries of her realm wisely and well, powerful enough to overcome all

her enemies and keep her people contented and happy. Of all the fairy cities in enchanted countries

anywhere, there is none to compare with Ozma's capital. Its streets sparkle and twinkle with emeralds;

the towered green castle, set in a lovely flowering park, shines and glows with the same precious gems,

casting a radiance that can be seen for miles on all sides. And to her castle 0zma has called the most

celebrated and interesting of her subjects. In a magical country like Oz, where wizards, witches and

fabulous monsters still abound, there are certain to be unusual and amazing characters. But Ozma is

fondest of Dorothy, Bettsy and Trot, three young girls from theUnited States, who reached theEmerald

Cityat different times after bewildering adventures in herfairyKingdom. All three found life there so

exciting and gay that they have never returned toAmericaat all, and living in the palace with the Queen

they advise her in all important matters of state, and accompany her on all of her visits and adventures.

Dorothy, having come first, has had more strange experiences than almost anyone else, and has

discovered a great many of the Oz celebrities. On her first trip she found the Scare-crow, a delightful

straw-stuffed person who spends half of his time in the capital and the other half in a splendid corn-ear

castle near the Royal Residence of his friend the Tin Woodman. Nick is a woodman entirely of tin,

another of Dorothy's discoveries, and so kind and depend-able that Ozma has made him Emperor of the

East and Ruler of the Winkles. Nick's only worry is that his joints will rust, and no one thinks it odd that

he carries an oil can wherever he goes and often stops in the middle of a conversation to lubricate his

jaws. Tik Tok, on the other hand, is made of copper and was manufactured by a firm of magicians to be

a slave to the King of Ev. The machine man is guaranteed to last a thousand years and can walk, talk,

think and do everything but live, Dorothy found Tik Tok locked in a cave, and releasing the copper man,

brought him to the Emerald City, where he is greatly admired and respected. Like Tik Tok, the

Patchwork Girl is of magic origin, too, having been intended for a servant by her owner. Made from an

old patchwork quilt, stuffed with cotton by a wizard's wife, Scraps was brought to life by the wizard's

Powder of Life. But so much cleverness and fun got into Scraps' make-up that she refused to work and,

taking an unceremonious leave of her master, ran off to the capital. Wherever Scraps happens to be,

there is always plenty of fun and excitement. Then, along with the interesting people in the Emerald City,

there are many amazing animals, everyone of them able to talk as fast as you can. There are the

Cowardly Lion, the Hungry Tiger, an Iffin, a glass cat, and so many more it would never do to start telling

you about them. Indeed, when I start talking about the celebrities at Oz-ma's court I never do know

when to stop. To describe them all would take about three days and as you probably have not that long

to listen, and know most of them as well as I do, I'll not try, but shall get back to Sir Hokus of Pokes and

his quest. Not much is known of the early history of this brave Knight except that for five centuries he

was imprisoned in the Kingdom of Pokes, until he was rescued by Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion not

so long ago. Since then he has lived in the capital and has been of great assistance to Ozma in the wars

and uprisings that disturb her peaceful Kingdom from time to time.

To some, five centuries might seem to make a man a bit ancient, but in Oz, where no one ever

really grows old, it is just middle-aged, and Sir Hokus can hold his own with any of the young fellows in

the castle. Hearing a great buzz and clatter beneath his windows, the Good Knight looked out and saw

fifty of Ozma's gay courtiers drilling under the lime-drop trees with more than half the palace servants

treading earnestly behind them. Learning from Scraps that Sir Hokus was about to start upon a quest,

they, too, had decided to accompany him, In the royal stables the excitement was no less. The

Saw-horse- Ozma's little wooden steed, magically brought to life, was quite certain he would be chosen

for the Knight's charger.

"Who," whinnied the Sawhorse proudly, "can travel so fast or so far as I, without food, rest, or

water?" The Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger exchanged knowing glances, for they felt that Sir

Hokus would much prefer a soft seat upon their backs. Hank, Bettsy's mule, explained to everyone in a

loud bray that if Bettsy Bobbin were going he was going, and the voices of the Comfortable Camel and

the Doubtful Dromedary grew positively shrill when anyone suggested that they might be left behind.

"Hokus is our dear discoverer. He found and brought us to Emerald City and would not think

of going on a quest without us," quavered the Comfortable Camel, rolling his eyes appealingly at Hank.

"You eat too much," sniffed the little mule. "And hee, haw Hee, haw You wobble too much!"

"You bray too much," put in the Doubtful Dromedary, coming to the rescue of his friend. "And

don't you get hee haughty with me, sir!" And so they argued back and forth, till even the family of mice in

the hayloft knew Sir Hokus was going upon a quest, and the tiniest member had resolved to slip in the

Knight's boot and go, too.

Nothing else was talked of at dinner that night in the palace, and so interested were Ozma,

Dorothy, and the others, that they scarcely noticed that Sir Hokus himself said never a word and ate

hardly a mouthful. Indeed, right in the-middle of an argument as to the advisability of taking water-proofs

or just heavy coats, the Knight tiptoed off to his own apartment and flung him-self wearily down on a

stone bench. "It's not that I don't want them!" groaned Sir Hokus sadly, "but how, with an army like that,

can I hope to rescue a damsel, slay a dragon, or challenge a giant to mortal combat? And how shall I

know that I am still brave and fit to do battle with fabulous monsters? The Wizard's magic will overcome

all our difficulties, Scraps' verses will make even the enemy laugh, and with so many maidens, how can I

hope for a proper fight? I would not mind just Dorothy or Ozma, but everyone in the castle! Odds black

and blue fish! It is too much!" Folding his arms, Sir Hokus glared at a large calendar on his wall, then

suddenly smote his hands joyfully together. Three days before Monday, the day set by Dorothy for the

quest. Three days!

"Hah!" breathed the Knight gleefully, and again, "Hah!" Snatching up his battle-axe and seizing

his second best helmet from its hook behind the door, he trod softly into the hall and down a little-used

stairway to the garden.

And while preparations for his quest went merrily forward, Sir Hokus himself, without even

one sandwich or extra suit of armor, marched grimly through the night.

CHAPTER 2

The Knight's First Adventure

WALKING rapidly, Sir Hokus soon reached the outskirts of the Emerald City and paused on the edge

of a small wood to consider the next step of his journey. In which of the four countries of Oz would he be

most likely to find a maiden in distress, a monarch in need of his trusty sword, or a monster ferocious

enough to engage In mortal combat?

Should he go to the North into the purple land of the Gillikins and offer his services to Joe

King, and Queen Hyacinth? Or into the red Quadling Country where Glinda, the Good Sorceress, ruled

over the turbulent tribes of the South? To the West stretched the blue realm of the Munchkins with its

wonderful Sapphire City and newly appointed sovereign, Cheeriobed the First, Should he go there? To

the East lay the yellow domain of the Winkles ruled over by the Tin Woodman, and after looking

thoughtfully in each direction, Sir Hokus turned his steps toward the East. It was in the Winkle Country

that he had been first discovered by little Dorothy and in this strange and enchanted Empire he hoped to

learn something of his former history. During his five-century imprisonment in Pokes, Sir Hokus had lost

all recollection of his early life and since his residence in the Emerald City he had been too occupied and

interested to bother. But now, treading through the starlit wood, he began to think of the long ago days of

his youth, to wonder whence he had come, who he really was and what great purpose had sent him

riding upon that first quest on a faraway and but dimly remembered morning. Of his father or his father's

castle he could recall nothing. He only remembered meeting, not far from the postern gates, a strange,

black Knight who had harshly challenged him to battle. Sir Hokus had accepted the challenge at once

and unseated the stranger with a clever thrust of his lance. Instantly the black Knight had sprung up, and

crying in a loud voice, "live, wretch, for centuries in the stupidest Kingdom in Oz," had disappeared, and

Sir Hokus himself, though of course that was not his name at that time, had been immediately transported

to Pokes and there he had been held captive for long forgotten ages until Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion

had come there by chance and all three had managed to escape together.

"Strange," mused the Knight, shaking his head sorrowfully, "strange that I can remember

nothing more of it," The longer he thought, the less he could think of, and finally he gave it up altogether.

"After all, does it matter?" he murmured, throwing back his shoulders and standing a trifle more straight.

"A Knight's but a Knight and can but be bold!" Cheered by the thought of his own boldness, he peered

about hopefully for signs of a dragon or stray gundersnatch. "What ho!" he roared lustily, more to keep

himself company than because he expected any answer. "What ho, there! What HO!"

"What who?" quavered a shrill voice from the branch of a tree just ahead, and a big, yellow

owl blinked disagreeably down at him. "What who-ooo are you, and what 'Ho' is this you are calling?" he

demanded sulkily. Ah, my good bird," Sir Hokus bowed politely, "perchance you can direct me to a

maiden in distress, a monarch in need of my sharp sword, or a monster whose head I might haply

dissever "Dissever?" screeched the owl, ruffling his feathers. "Well, did you ever! There are no maidens,

monarchs, or monsters in this wood, and I advise you to go home and mind your own business." "It is a

Knight's business to render assistance to others," Sir Hokus informed him sternly. "Oh, you're a Knight

are you?" The owl opened his eyes wider. "Well, I'm a Knight, too, a night owl, and you may render me

a service if you will."

"Name it!" Eagerly Sir Hokus drew his sword. "You can go away," sniffed the owl fretfully,

settling down on the branch. "Go away, go along with you!" And as Sir Hokus stood uncertain whether

to clip a few feathers from its tail to teach it a lesson in courtesy or just go off, the bird closed its eyes.

"Good-night, Knight," it yawned sleepily.

"Good-night, night owl," answered Sir Hokus, deciding that after all the creature was not

worth a quarrel. "Odds bodikens! I might as well be home in bed for all the adventures I'm having," he

sighed, moving mournfully along in the moonlight. "Not a wild beast has crossed my path, not a witch, a

robber, or even one little dragon! Hah, Hoh, HUM!" With another great yawn, the Knight removed his

heavy armor, hung it on a near by branch, and wrapping himself in his gray cloak lay down under a tree

and slept soundly till morning. The chatter of the yellow birds awakened him about six, and buckling on

his armor he quenched his thirst in a clear forest brook. As there were no breakfast bushes or afternoon

tea trees about he marched resolutely onward. The forest grew denser at every step and he was often

forced to hew out a path with his battle-axe, but about noon he came to a narrow footway shut in on

both sides by giant trees and heavy underbrush. Following this for several miles, Sir Hokus was suddenly

cheered by a bright shaft of sunlight ahead. Hurrying forward joyfully, he was about to step out into the

open when a heavy band fell upon his shoulder.

"Halt!" cried a deep voice. "Halt! Stop! And other words meaning surrender!"

"Surrender?" bellowed the Knight, with a furious bounce. "Stand back, knave! Unhand me,

villain! Who dares cry 'halt' to Sir Hokus of Pokes?"

"Getsom and Gotsom!" answered the same deep voice. "Getsom and Gotsum! Mud Guards

to her Majesty, Queen Marcia of Marshland."

"Mud Guards!" sputtered Sir Hokus, staring at the two without enthusiasm. "Well, in faith an'

ye look it!" For Getsom and Gotsum were so spattered with mud and streaked with mire that scarcely

any of their dark skin was visible. They wore rough swamp grass skirts and little else, and their long hair

was tangled and matted and hung half over their sullen faces. As Sir Hokus continued to stare, the

second Mud Guard addressed him: "Good-morrow!" he croaked, jerking his fore-lock. Then turning to

his companion he whispered hoarsely, "Be careful how you treat him, Getsom, old fellow. Remember he

is the King!"

"King!" exploded Sir Hokus, growing quite curious. "What merry nonsense it this? I am a

Knight, bound upon a curious quest."

"He'll do very well indeed, if we remove the shell," continued Gotsom, eyeing Sir Hokus with

frank approval. "How would you like to be Monarch of the Marshes and King of the

Stick-in-the-Muds?" he asked coaxingly. "Our Queen has sworn to marry the first stranger who enters

the Kingdom; you are the first, so-"

"Hold, fellow!" Imperiously Sir Hokus raised his arm. "I would hear more of this Queen."

"Well," admitted Getsom, looking uneasily at Gotsum, "she has one wonderful eye."

"One wonderful eye!" gulped the Knight. "By my father's beard, it is not enough! If I ever

marry twill be a Princess with two wonderful eyes and curly hair like little Dorothy's. But I am not minded

to marry at all. I crave adventure, conquest, and furious battle!"

"Marry Marcia, and you will have all three," promised Gotsom quickly.

"Oh, come on! You're wasting our time," grumbled Getsom, and pressing forward impatiently

the two Mud Guards made ready to seize the Knight. But Sir Hokus had no intention of being taken.

Striking two ways at once, he felled Getsom with his sword and Gotsom with his battle-axe and, leaping

over their inert bodies, rushed impetuously forward. Almost instantly he regretted this hasty action; for

though he was indeed out of the gloomy forest, in all directions stretched a wild and desolate marsh, and

scarcely had he run three paces before he began to sink down into the treacherous, watery bog. Sir

Hokus struck out bravely enough, but what good is bravery in the mud? No matter how brave you are,

you still keep on sinking, and weighed down by his heavy armor the Knight was soon in to his waist and

going deeper every minute. Indeed, if he had not snatched desperately at a scraggly little tree, he would

have disappeared altogether.

"Methinks," groaned the Knight regretfully, "methinks I had done better to have gone with

those muddy rogues and taken my chance with their one-eyed Queen. They, no doubt, have a way of

crossing this mire." But the Mud Guards would not regain their senses for hours, and meanwhile he could

do nothing but cling to the tree. "What now? And what next?" he muttered, looking around despondently.

Then he took a firmer hold on his sword. "Odds goblins!" breathed Sir Hokus, wrinkling his brows.

All around him giant bubbles were rising in the mud, and from each bubble came a great green

frog's head. Odd goblins they were, indeed! Frog goblins, to be perfectly correct, and with hair-raising

croaks and screeches they pressed closer, trying to pull the Knight down into the mire. Each frog goblin

was about the size of a small child, and at first Sir Hokus struck them lightly with the flat of his sword. But

as they came nearer and nearer, snatching with their long, skinny fingers and trying to loosen his hold on

the tree, he swung his sword with all his might and brought it down with resounding whacks on their

heads, But as fast as he struck down four, a dozen others hurled themselves upon him. Having only one

hand free and being waist deep in the mud, Sir Hokus fought them off as best as he could, but there were

so many it seemed but a question of time before he would be pulled ingloriously into the swamp and

suffocated. Then, suddenly, right at the height of the conflict, the frog goblins, with a hundred dismal

croaks, dove into the bog. Panting with exhaustion, Sir Hokus glared around to discover the cause of

their disappearance and saw a giant mud turtle plowing determinedly toward him. Its jaws snapped, its

eyes rolled, and it was as large as an elephant flattened out.

"A monster!" puffed Sir Hokus. "At last, a monster! But I could wish it had come at some

happier moment, when I had more breath and better footing!" Nevertheless, he pulled himself resolutely

up out of the mud and, raising his sword, calmly waited for the turtle to approach. When it had almost

reached his tree, the creature stopped, stretched up its neck and regarded him long and searchingly, as if

it were deciding upon the best place to begin biting him. Sir Hokus endured this inspection for several

minutes in silence; then, as the monster made no move or murmur, he called out impatiently:

"Quail, wretch! Quiver, or at least do something to show that you are afraid!'

"I am not a quail," answered the turtle in a dignified voice, "and in this shell, how could I

quiver?"

"Well, do what you're going to do, then," shouted the Knight, "and be done with it." Lack of

breakfast and the discomforts of the past few hours had not improved his temper. "Do something, d'ye

hear?"

"I am," said the turtle, blinking its eyes solemnly. "I am admiring you, dear brother. I have

always suspected that somewhere a turtle man existed and here, at last, you are! What a gorgeous shell,

and how perfectly it fits!' At these words, and seeing there was to be no slaying, Sir Hokus returned his

sword to its scabbard and looked thoughtfully at the green monster.

"Dear, dear," it continued, rolling its eyes affectionately, "I dote on you already. Can I catch

you some nice little frogs, or would you prefer a serpent for breakfast?"

"Neither," shuddered the Knight, "but you may carry me on your back, if you will." If the

creature were really as friendly as it appeared to be, he could stand being called its brother, at least until

he was out of the swamp. At his words the turtle gave a squeal of pleasure, and hurling itself hit or miss

through the mud, drew up like a ferryboat beside him. Seizing hold of its strong shell, Sir Hokus pulled

himself thankfully up on its back.

"A fine Knight Errant I must appear," he sighed, regarding his muddy armor ruefully. "No

wonder it thinks I'm a turtle man! What ho, my good creature," he called anxiously, "is it far to the edge

of this marsh?"

"Far-far-very far, but not too far for Ploppa," wheezed the mud turtle, looking fondly back at

the Knight.

"Then proceed, Ploppa!" cried Sir Hokus, chuckling in spite of himself at the turtle's name.

"Proceed, and let us make what speed we may!"

CHAPTER 3

Queen Marcia of Marshland

WITH his sword, Sir Hokus scraped some of the mud from his armor; then, setting himself cross-legged

on Ploppa's back, he looked about with deep distaste.

"Are you sure you would not like to squirm along beside me?" inquired the turtle, looking

fondly over his shoulder. "The marsh is beautiful to-day. Ah, to feel the delicious squg and glug of it," he

murmured, rolling his eyes rapturously.

"Nay, an' I care not for this glugging," shuddered the Knight, "so splash along by yourself, dear

creature." Taking some chessmen from his boot, Sir Hokus set them out on the nicely marked squares of

Ploppa's shell and in the problems of the game tried to forget his hunger and the strangeness of his

situation. Several times Ploppa opened his mouth to speak, for he felt extremely curious about this

superior being he was carrying, but the Knight seemed so engrossed moving the ivory figures from place

to place that he did not like to interrupt and churned quietly along saying nothing. Now and then a frog

goblin rose from the mud, or a flock of wild geese flew screaming overhead, but for nearly an hour they

met no one. Then, glancing up suddenly, Sir Hokus saw two giants striding across the marsh.

"What ho, and who goes there?" cried the Knight, thumping Ploppa on the head with a red

king.

"Oh, just a couple of Stick-in-the-Muds," answered the turtle indifferently. "The marsh is full of

them." Sweeping the chessmen back into his boot, Sir Hokus sat up very straight to have a better look at

Queen Marcia's odd subjects. Their bodies seemed no larger than his own, but their legs were long and

stick-like and reached almost to the tops of the trees.

"Why, they are sticks," decided Sir Hokus, after a long, intent look at the Marshlanders.

"Stilts," corrected the turtle composedly. "They use stilts to keep out of the mud, you know."

"So that's how one manages," said Sir Hokus, tapping his nose thoughtfully. He had once tried

a smaller pair of stilts back in the Emerald City and had fallen hard upon his helmet, and he could not help

but admire the clever way in which these fellows got about on the unwieldy poles. Their dwellings were

surprising, too, for the Marshlanders lived in tiny mud-thatched houses built high up in the trees. As Sir

Hokus continued to watch, the two travelers, reaching their own house, which was on an exact level with

their feet, stepped off their stilts and, leaving them standing against the tree, went in and slammed the

door. "Well done, by my head!" breathed Sir Hokus, settling back with a little chuckle. "I must tell

Dorothy about this. Hast ever heard of Princess Dorothy, my good Ploppa?"

"Is she a turtle?' inquired the monster in a bored voice.

"Oh, no, no, no!" exclaimed Sir Hokus with a little gesture of distress, and immediately began

telling the turtle all about the Emerald City; about Ozma, Dorothy, Bettsy, and Trot, and the other

wonderful citizens of Oz,

The turtle listened attentively, and as Sir Hokus paused for breath, turned his head.

"If everything is so squg, (and "squg," I must tell you, is turtle-talk for cozy) "why did you ever

come away from there?" he inquired, reasonably enough.

'Well,' muttered Sir Hokus, beginning to wonder a little himself, "well!" Then recalling the high

purpose of his journey, he braced up and spoke most earnestly. "A Knight," stated Sir Hokus, raising his

sword solemnly, "must beware of squgness' A Knight must seek danger and go upon curious quests in

search of adventure. In other words, he must fight!"

"I see," Ploppa shook his head knowingly. "By the way, have you met our Queen?"

"No, but I've heard of her," admitted Sir Hokus, recalling his strange encounter with Getsom

and Gotsom. He had been so busy describing the Emerald City to Ploppa that he had not remarked the

change in their surroundings. Ahead, like an oasis in a desert, lay a higher and dryer bit of ground. In the

exact center of this clearing rose a mud house much larger and more pretentious than the tree dwellings of

the other Stick-in-the-muds. Before the door stood six Mud Guards, their stilts held stiffly before them.

At sight of Sir Hokus, all six dropped their stilts and stared at him so fixedly that his grip upon his sword

tightened and he quietly reached for his battle-axe.

"The Royal Hut of her Majesty, Queen Marcia, announced the turtle, seeming to take no

notice of the Guards.

"Yes? Yes, but let us make haste!" puffed Sir Hokus, thumping Ploppa hard upon the shell. "I

crave not to meet her muddy Majesty. But before Ploppa could obey his instructions, they had come

opposite the hut; the six Guards darted forward, jumping upon ploppa's back, dragged Sir Hokus

triumphantly in to the Queen.

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TheYellowKnightOfOz–Oz24 L.FrankBaum byRuthPlumlyThompson ThisbookisdedicatedtomyverydearandverylittleAuntGertrude![RuthPlumlyThompson,1930] ListofChaptersChapter1 SirHokusPlansaQuest2 TheKnight'sFirstAdventure3 QueenMarciaofMarshland4 Plop...

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L. Frank Baum - Oz 24 - The Yellow Knight Of Oz

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