The Rolling Hoopers
Snip was awakened by a tickling feeling of his nose and, opening his
eyes, saw Pajuka standing over him with a big bunch of grapes in his
bill. "Hello!" yawned Snip, sitting up and rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"Is it morning?"
Pajuka dropped the grapes into his lap.
"Half past it. Been up since five, had a fly and a swim and brought
you these for breakfast," clucked the goose, who seemed to be in a
fine humor. "Mombi's eaten all the rest of the chicken herself, the old
Scundermutch!"
The sun filtered down cheerily through the tree-tops and a fresh little
breeze had set all the forest leaves to dancing. Snip, himself, felt
curiously light hearted and gay. Perhaps it was the long sleep he had
had in the open, or the friendly presence of Pajuka, or the thought of
the strange adventures that lay ahead. Anyway, he jumped up with a will
and even the scowl old Mombi gave him failed to dampen his spirits.
She had already prepared and eaten her breakfast and was beating out
the fire with her shoe. Following Pajuka to a small sparkling brook,
Snip splashed his face and hands vigorously, ate his grapes and a large
sugar bun that the thoughtful Pajuka had plucked from a nearby bun
bush. By this time Mombi had her basket packed and, shaking her stick
crossly, announced it was time to start.
"Which way are we going?" asked Snip, taking the basket and falling
into step beside her.
"My way!" snapped Mombi fiercely.
"Well, that's a witch way, isn't it," observed Pajuka, flopping along
a few feet overhead and winking down slyly at Snip, as he plodded down
the road.
"Hold your bill," snapped Mombi, hobbling along so fast that the little
button boy had to skip to keep pace with her. "I told you last night we
were going to the Emerald City."
"But I thought you were banished from there forever," put in Snip, who
knew his Oz history by heart.
"I shall disguise myself," shrilled Mombi triumphantly. "I'll pretend
I'm a market woman selling a fat goose and while I'm arguing with the
cook, Pajuka shall fly into the palace and steal some of Ozma's magic."
"How do you know I shall?" honked Pajuka sulkily. "Ozma has never done
me any harm. The thing for us to do is to find the King. Once we've
come to the little wood where you transformed him you'll remember where
he is. Why, maybe we'll find him before then."
"Yes, but what good will it do if I don't remember my magic," sniffed
Mombi. "Unless you want to be a goose for the rest of your life, you'd
better make up your mind to do what I say. As for _you_," the old witch
whirled angrily upon Snip, "any more of this supposing and I'll turn
you to a six pence and spend you at the first village."
Snip merely whistled and turned up his nose at this, for he knew
perfectly well Mombi could not carry out her threat. Besides, Snip had a
plan of his own. The little button boy had decided that as soon as they
reached the famous capital of Oz he would slip away from Mombi and tell
Princess Ozma the whole story. Then she herself could use her magic
to help Pajuka find the King. So he stepped jauntily along, paying no
attention to Mombi's mutterings, looking curiously to the right and
left and thinking how much he should have to tell Kinda Jolly when he
returned to Kimbaloo.
The forest, like all the northern lands of Oz, was slightly tinged
with purple, the national color of the Gillikens. Pansies and tall
purple flags grew around the bases of the giant trees and here and
there clusters of violets nodded their pretty little heads in the
breeze. Purple birds darted through the leaves overhead and the air was
sweet from hidden beds of lavender, so that nothing could have been
pleasanter than the first part of the day's journey. But toward noon
they reached a portion of the forest so dark and impenetrable that they
had to go single file, and even then had great difficulty in forcing
their way through the trees and dense underbrush.
Growls and roars added still further to their discomforts, until Snip,
feeling in his pocket for his trusty pen knife, began to wish himself
safely back in the button wood. Pajuka half ran and waddled after him,
giving every now and then a great flop of terror as a particularly
fierce roar came echoing through the forest. Mombi, alone, seemed
perfectly unconcerned and hobbled ahead whacking branches and bushes
out of the way with her crooked stick.
"Must be lunch time," she called back hoarsely over her shoulder.
"Howja guess?" panted Pajuka, keeping as close to Snip as he could,
for he was terribly frightened.
"Don't you hear the lions?" asked the old witch maliciously.
"Merciful feathers!" gasped the goose. "Have I come all this way to be
a lion's lunch?"
"Here comes one now," shuddered Snip, flattening himself against a
tree. But it was not a lion that came hurtling out of the brush. It
was a weenix, a wild, bear-like beast with a walrus head. One look at
its tusks set Snip's heart beating like a drum. Pajuka flung into the
air, flapping his wings and hissing furiously, but the weenix came
straight on and Snip, though determined to die with his pen knife in
hand, trembled so violently he could scarcely stand up. Even Mombi
looked frightened. Grabbing the basket from Snip, she fumbled among its
packages and pans and just as the weenix, with outspread paws, leaped
upon her, the old witch snatched out the pepper box and shook the
entire contents upon its nose. It was purple pepper, fortunately, which
is even stronger than red.
"Kawoosh!" spluttered the weenix falling backwards. "Kawoosh--Kawush!
Kawoo!" With tears streaming down its tusks and trembling whiskers,
it dashed into the shadows, where it could still be heard sneezing
broken-heartedly. It evidently told its family and friends all about
the dangerous travellers, for not another weenix so much as showed a
whisker after that.
"Humph!" snorted Mombi, settling her hat, which had gone terribly
askew. "I may have forgotten my magic, but I still know a few tricks,
eh Pajuka?"
"Oh, my feathers," panted the goose, leaning up against a tree, "that
was worse than roasting."
"How did you ever think of pepper?" asked Snip, who could not help
admiring Mombi's quickness. But Mombi merely gave a grunt, thrust the
basket back into his hands and began limping along faster than ever.
Snip was tired and hungry, but the thought of being left alone in the
forest was so much worse than being in the company of a witch that he
stumbled and ran after her, comforting himself with the thought of the
fine sights he should see in the Emerald City.
Pajuka was tired too, but he hopped and flopped after Snip and
another hour brought them to the edge of the forest. The countryside,
stretching pleasantly ahead, was shaded with purple, so they knew they
were still in the land of the Gillikens. The old witch ordered a halt,
while she considered the road.
Mombi pegged her map down on the grass and began studying it carefully.
Snip sat down under a tree and began fanning himself with his hat,
while Pajuka flew off to find a stream, for the poor goose was parched
by his flight through the forest and never felt quite happy out of
water.
"How far is the Emerald City?" asked Snip, after watching Mombi for a
time in silence.
"Ought to be there by night time," muttered the witch, forgetting for
once to scowl. "All we have to do is to keep going south-west." Rolling
up the map, Mombi took the rest of the bread and cheese from the
basket. Seeing she meant to give him none, Snip went off in search of a
bite for himself. In Oz this is not difficult, for the most marvelous
plants and trees grow in all of its kingdoms. Scarcely a stone's throw
away Snip found a huckleberry-pie plant. He ate several of the small
tarts, and then picked a pocket full of plums from a pretty little
plum tree that grew by the roadside. The purple Gilliken country is as
famous for its plums as the yellow Winkie Land is for its peaches and
pears.
Feeling quite refreshed, Snip went to search for Pajuka. Just beyond a
thin fringe of trees ran a shallow stream, and Pajuka, in the strange
manner of geese, was standing on his head, eating his lunch off the
bottom. He looked so comical that Snip nearly burst out laughing, but
remembering just in time that Pajuka was the King's prime minister he
cleared his throat instead. With a great bounce, Pajuka came right side
up and after a few dives and splashes waded ashore.
"What did you find to eat?" asked Snip curiously.
"Oh some water roots and--er other things," answered Pajuka. Seeing he
was embarrassed Snip politely changed the subject.
"Tell me about the King," said the little button boy, "and about Oz
before Ozma was Queen."
"Well, there was never a kindlier king anywhere," began Pajuka, shaking
the water from his feathers.
"What kind?" asked Snip, biting into a plum. "How did he look?"
"Pleasant," explained Pajuka, putting one foot before the other and
waddling from side to side in his queer goosey fashion. "He was tall
and gentle and very absent-minded, and so kind that he never punished
anyone at all."
"Then that's why there were so many witches," cried Snip triumphantly.
"Yes, and that's why it was so easy for Mombi to get him into her
power," sighed Pajuka mournfully. "He would believe evil of no one--not
even of a witch."
"Seems to me Ozma makes a better ruler," observed Snip, throwing his
plum over a tree and standing on his tip toes to see how far it had
gone. "She doesn't allow anyone to practice magic, excepting herself,
Glinda and the Wizard." This is perfectly true and Oz has enjoyed under
the littlest Princess in history an era of great peace and prosperity.
"Ozma is a pretender," insisted Pajuka stiffly.
"But she doesn't even know her father's alive," protested Snip. Though
he had never seen Ozma, he had a great affection for the little Queen.
"What will become of Ozma when we find the King?" he asked doubtfully.
"Oh, she can go back and play with her dolls. She's only a little girl
anyway," answered the goose carelessly. Snip did not quite approve of
this either, so he changed the subject again.
"There wasn't any Emerald City then, was there Pajuka?"
"No, but we had a splendid castle where the Emerald City now stands
and hunting parks in every country of Oz. Ah, those were the good old
days," sighed Pajuka sorrowfully. "If I could but see my dear master
again I'd be content to remain a goose for the rest of my life."
"I s'pose you _do_ miss him," said Snip sympathetically.
"Miss him!" Pajuka gave a great gulp and turned his head to wipe his
tears on his feathers. "Why, I miss him even more than my pockets,"
groaned the poor goose in a smothered voice.
Snip would have liked to hear more about the King, but a loud screech
from Mombi interrupted the story. "Where've you been?" croaked the
witch, emerging from a little patch of trees and blinking at them
crossly. "I've been ready for hours. C'mon! Do you think this is a
picnic?"
"Don't sass me, woman," wheezed Pajuka with great dignity, "or I'll not
help you a mite. Who got us into this ridiculous mess, may I ask?"
Mombi paid no attention to Pajuka's remarks, but began hobbling down
the road and Snip, who could hardly wait to reach the Emerald City,
hurried after her, still mumbling crossly to herself. The goose
sulkily brought up the rear. The road was fairly good, and zig-zagged
pleasantly enough through meadows and fields.
"But aren't there any houses?" asked Snip, as they passed through a
deserted stretch of woodland. "Aren't there any people or villages or
towns?"
"There ought to be," honked Pajuka, who was resting his feet in the
air. (That's one advantage of having wings, when your feet are tired
you can fly.)
"There are!" snapped Mombi gruffly, and Mombi was right, for just then
the wood came to an end and they found themselves facing a large,
pleasant park, with dazzling white paths running in every direction.
Snip was looking around with deep interest, when six of the strangest
beings he had ever seen rose up from a bench a little distance off and
stood examining them critically. They were certainly ten feet high and
so thin and flat that Snip could scarcely believe they were people at
all. But as they had heads, arms, legs and the usual number of eyes,
ears and noses, he concluded they must be People. As the little button
boy stared at them, the first of the creatures leaned down, caught hold
of its toes and came hurtling at the travelers like a hurricane.
"Whoop!" shrieked the second one, bending over as the first had done
and turning itself into a sure enough hoop. "Whoop, whoop!"
"Honk!" screamed Pajuka defiantly, but before Snip and Mombi had time
to recover from their surprise the six Hoopers had rolled upon them
full-speed, knocking them flat upon their backs. Pajuka just saved
himself by a quick flop into the air. Then, without unrolling, the six
whizzed off backwards and by the time Snip and Mombi had scrambled up
were ready for another dash.
"Get the pepper! Get the pepper!" squawked the goose wildly, but Mombi,
furious at her fall, did nothing but hop and howl with rage and Snip,
seeing that something must be done, snatched up her crooked stick. As
the first Hooper came pelting upon them, he gave it a sharp crack that
sent it whirling down the walk. The second and third he served in the
same fashion. The fourth he missed, so that Mombi again was rolled in
the dust, but the fifth and sixth he caught fairly and, beginning to
enjoy the fun, started rolling them like hoops as fast as he could,
whacking first one and then another and screaming with laughter at the
comical expressions on their faces, when their faces came uppermost.
"Go it, Snip! Go it!" exulted Pajuka, flapping his wings delightedly.
But Snip needed no encouragement and only stopped at last for lack of
breath. Immediately the Hoopers unrolled and, groaning and whooping
and holding their sides, limped off into the bushes. Hundreds of the
creatures had gathered by this time and, as Snip sank down on a bench
to rest, the very tallest Hooper came rolling toward them.
"What do you mean by beating my subjects in this heartless fashion?"
demanded the great fellow, unrolling to his full height and glaring
sternly down at the little button boy.
"Well, they started it," replied Snip, keeping a firm hold on Mombi's
stick. "Didn't they, Pajuka?"
"They certainly did," asserted the goose, settling down on the bench
beside Snip. "Is it usual to knock down innocent travelers without
reason or ceremony?"
"Is it usual to sit in the presence of a king?" retorted the Hooper
stiffly. At this all his subjects began whooping faintly, "Bow down to
Rollo the Royal, bow down to King Rollo the Worst!"
"Oh, roll up!" said Snip scornfully. "You're only a lot of live hoops
anyway. Why should we bow?"
"Leave the park instantly!" roared Rollo, bouncing up and down with
rage.
"Let's," said Snip, grinning over at Pajuka.
"I'm ready," agreed the goose, "but where's Mombi?"
"Here!" spluttered the witch, rolling out of a bonnet bush. "Any more
nonsense from these creatures and I'll turn them to breakfast rolls and
eat them for supper."
"A witch!" whooped the King.
"A witch!" coughed all the others and, seizing their toes, the whole
company of them whirled off together and disappeared in a cloud of
dust. So without further excitement, the three adventurers reached the
other side of the Hoopers' park and, opening a small gate in the fence
that surrounded it, found themselves again on the zig-zag pathway. A
large sign posted on one of the trees immediately attracted Snip's
attention.
"Fifty leaps to the Corners," announced the sign curiously enough.
"Leaps!" gasped Snip, while Mombi pushed back her hat and stood on
tip-toe to examine the crooked letters. "Must we leap all the way?"
"Better look before we do," chuckled Pajuka, scratching his head with
the third toe of his left foot. "I've been in some pretty tight corners
in my time, and prefer to go around the rest of them."
"We'll go straight on. Who's afraid?" sneered Mombi. Snip, thinking
of the way she had hidden in the bonnet bush while he beat off the
Hoopers, winked at Pajuka and Pajuka, with a little flutter of his
wings, winked back. Then all three started along the narrow path
together.