The Other Side of the Desert
Remembering the deadly and destroying nature of the sands below, Randy
did not dare to look down. Besides, holding on took all his strength
and attention, for Kabumpo was borne like a leaf before the howling
gale, faster and faster and faster, till he and Randy were too dazed
and dizzy to know or care how far they had gone or where they were
blowing to. Which was perhaps just as well, for, as suddenly as it had
risen, the gale abated and, coasting down the last high hill of the
wind, saved from a serious crash only by his faithful tarpaulin, which
now acted as a parachute, Kabumpo came jolting to earth. With closed
eyes and trunk held stiffly before him, the Elegant Elephant remained
perfectly motionless awaiting destruction and wondering vaguely how
it would feel. He was convinced that they had come down on the desert
itself. Then, as no fierce blasts of heat assailed him, he ventured
to open one eye. Randy, shaken loose by the force of the landing, had
rolled to the ground a few feet away, and now, jumping to his feet,
cried joyously:
"Why, it's over, Kabumpo--over, and so are we! Ho! I never knew you
could fly, old Push-the-Foot."
"Neither did I," shuddered the Elegant Elephant, and jerking off the
waterproof he flung it as hard and as far as he could.
"Oh, don't do that!" Randy dashed away to pick it up. "That good old
coat saved our bacon and ballooned us across the desert as light as a
couple of daisies."
"But we're no better off on this side than on the other," grumbled
Kabumpo, surveying the barren countryside with positive hatred. "Not a
house, a field, a farm or a castle in sight."
"The idea was to get away from castles, wasn't it?" Randy grinned up
at his huge friend and, folding the waterproof into a neat packet,
tucked it back in its place.
"Well, there's one thing about castles," observed the Elegant Elephant,
giving his robe a quick tug here and there. "At least, the food's
regular. I could eat a royal dinner from soup to napkins."
"Give me a boost up that tree and I'll have a look around," proposed
Randy.
"Need a spy-glass to find anything worth looking at in this country,"
complained Kabumpo, lifting Randy into the fork of a gnarled old tree.
Shinning expertly up the rough trunk, Randy looked carefully in all
directions.
"We certainly cleared the desert by a nice margin," he called down
gaily. "It's at least a mile behind us, and toward the east I see a
cluster of white towers that might be a castle."
"And nothing between," mourned Kabumpo with a hungry swallow. "No
fields, orchards or melon patches?"
"There are fields, but they're too far away for me to see what's
growing, and there's a forest too. What country is this, Kabumpo? Do
you know?"
"Depends on how we blew," answered the Elegant Elephant, lifting Randy
out of the tree and tossing him lightly over his shoulder. "If we blew
straight from Headland, which is certainly the northwestern tip of the
Gilliken Country of Oz, we should be in No Land. If we blew slantwise,
this would be Ix."
"Then I hope we blew slantwise." Randy spread himself out luxuriantly
behind Kabumpo's ears. "For if we are in Ix, we have only one country
to cross before we reach Ev and Jinnicky's castle."
"And the sooner we start, the sooner we'll arrive," agreed Kabumpo,
swinging into motion. "But if I drop in my tracks, boy, don't be too
surprised. I'm hollow as a drum and weak as a violet."
"Too bad we're not like the Headmen," said Randy, who felt dreadfully
hollow himself. "Without a body, I suppose one does not feel hungry.
Wonder what became of them, anyway?"
"Who cares?" sniffed Kabumpo, picking his way crossly through the rocks
and brambles. "They probably blew about for a while, but with ears like
sails, what's a gale of wind or weather? Ho! what's that I see yonder,
a farmer?"
"No, just a hat stuck on a pole to scare away the crows," Randy told
him after a careful squint. "But nothing grows in the field but rocks,
so why do they bother?"
"Did you say a 'hat'?" Kabumpo's small eyes began to burn and twinkle,
and breaking into a run he was across the field like a flash.
"Kabumpo!" gasped Randy, as the Elegant Elephant snatched the hat from
the pole and took a huge bite from the brim. "Surely, surely you're not
going to eat that old hat?"
"Why not?" demanded the Elegant Elephant, cramming the rest of the hat
into his mouth and crunching it up with great gusto. "It's straw, isn't
it? A little old and tough, to be sure, but nourishing, and anyway
better than nothing!" Almost strangling on the crown, Kabumpo glanced
sharply across the field, then looked apologetically back at his young
rider. "Great Gooselberries," he muttered contritely, "I'm sorry as a
goat. Why, I never saved you even an edge!"
"Oh, never mind," choked Randy, holding his sides at the very idea of
such a thing. "Even if I were starving, I couldn't eat a hat. But look,
old Push-the-Foot, isn't that a barn showing over the top of that hill?"
"Barn!" wheezed Kabumpo, lifting his trunk joyfully. "Why, so it is!
Ho! This is something like!" And hiccoughing excitedly, from the
effects of the hat, no doubt, Kabumpo went galloping over the brow of
the little hill.
A pleasant valley dotted with small farms stretched out below. Randy
was relieved to note that its inhabitants were usual-looking beings
like himself. Children rode gleefully on wagons piled high with
hay. Farmers in wide-brimmed yellow hats, rather like those worn by
the Winkies in Oz, worked placidly in the fields. Everyone seemed
contented, calm and happy; that is, until Kabumpo, delighted to
find himself again in a land of plenty, came charging down the hill
trumpeting like a whole band of music.
"Oh, too bad, you've frightened them nearly out of their wits," mourned
Randy, hanging on to Kabumpo's collar to keep his balance as the
Elegant Elephant, forgetting his elegance, made a dash for the nearest
hayrick.
"Help Hi--stop! Now see what you've done!"
To tell the truth, the havoc ensuing was not all Kabumpo's fault. No
one in this tranquil valley of Ix had ever seen an elephant before, and
the sight of one rushing down upon them was so unnerving and strange
they fled in every direction, leaping into barns and houses, and
barring and double-barring the doors against this terrifying monster.
Horses hitched to their hay wagons cantered madly east and west,
and the air was filled with loud shrieks, neighs and the bellows of
stampeding cattle.
"Such dummies!" panted Kabumpo, coming to a complete standstill.
"Well," he gave a tremendous sniff, "if they don't want to meet a King,
a Prince and the most elegant elephant in Oz, what do we care? I've
invited myself to breakfast anyhow, and they can like it or Kabump it.
Just wait till I load away one stack of this hay, my boy, and I'll find
you a breakfast fit for a King and Traveler."
And the Elegant Elephant was good as his word. After tossing down
a great mound of new-mown hay, he swaggered over to the nearest
farmhouse. Pushing in the kitchen window with his trunk, he handed
up to Randy everything the little farmer's wife had on her kitchen
table--a bowl of milk, a pat of butter, a loaf of bread, a cold half
chicken and three hard-boiled eggs.
"Do control yourself, madam," he advised, as the palpitating little
lady flattened herself against the opposite wall. "These pearls will
more than pay for your provisions."
Afraid to touch the lovely chain Kabumpo placed on the table, the
little Ixey watched with round eyes as Kabumpo backed away.
"Ho, I guess that will give her something to tell her grandchildren!"
snorted the Elegant Elephant. Randy was too busy taking rapturous
bites, first of bread and then of chicken, to answer.
"Why is it that everything tastes so much better when you are
traveling?" he remarked a bit later, as he finished off the rest of the
chicken and put the bread, butter and eggs away for his lunch.
"'Cause we're hungrier, I suppose," smiled Kabumpo, crossing another
field, "and then, there's the novelty."
Recalling the straw hat with a little chuckle, Kabumpo winked back at
his young rider.
"But now that we've breakfasted I think we'd better be moving. I see
some of these farmers gathering up their courage and their pitchforks
and I'm too full to fight."
"Pooh! they couldn't hurt us," boasted Randy, stretching out
comfortably. "I rather wish they hadn't run off, though, I'd like to
ask them something about the country, and you know, Kabumpo--I've never
ridden on a hay wagon in all my life and I'd sorta like to try it."
"That's the worst of being a King," observed Kabumpo, walking carefully
around a brown calf. "You miss a lot of the common and ordinary
pleasures. Hmm--mmn, let's see, now, all the horses have run off, but
there's still a heap of hay about--so why shouldn't you have a ride?"
"Without any wagon?" inquired Randy, looking wistfully at the largest
of the haystacks.
"Why not?" puffed Kabumpo, and lifting Randy hurriedly down from his
back, he rushed at the hayrick, burrowing into it with tusk, feet and
trunk till he was in the exact center. Then heaving up with his back
and forward with his trunk, he pushed till his head stuck out the other
side. "Come ON!" he grunted triumphantly. "You'll not only have your
hay ride, but I'll have my lunch!"
Throwing Randy to the top of the load, the Elegant Elephant, looking
far from elegant, set off at a lumbersome gallop, carrying the haystack
right along with him. At sight of his prize hayrick apparently running
away by itself, the outraged owner stuck his head out of the window and
screamed. But that did not bother Kabumpo. The load was but a feather's
weight to him, and with the young King of Regalia dancing and yelling
on the top, he swept merrily through the startled valley.
Those at the lower end who had not seen Kabumpo arrive, now catching
sight of a load of hay moving off by itself, simply fell against fences
and barn doors, blinking and gulping with astonishment, too stunned and
shocked to return the gay greetings of the nonchalant young Gilliken
riding the load. Kabumpo, sampling stray wisps as he ran and peering
out comically from under the hay, enjoyed to the utmost the sensation
he was causing.
"Make a wish, my boy," he shouted exuberantly. "It's awfully lucky to
wish on the first load of hay."
"Then I wish we would reach the Red Jinn's castle before night,"
decided Randy. "And wouldn't Jinnicky laugh if he could see us now? Did
you leave a pearl for the hay, Kabumpo?"
"Certainly," retorted the elephant, speaking rather stuffily through
the haystack. "We're travelers, not thieves. Hi! what's ahead, my lad?
This load has shifted a bit over my left eye and I can scarcely see out
of my right."
"A dry river bed," called Randy, bouncing up and down with the keenest
enjoyment. "Go slow, old Push-the-Foot, or you'll lose your lunch."
"Not on your life!" puffed the Elegant Elephant. "I'll stop and eat it
first. Ho--"
"Hay foot, straw foot, any foot will do,
Down the bank and up the bank, and now, how is the view?"
"Elegant," breathed Randy, grinning to himself at Kabumpo's verses.
"More fields--meadows--forests, everything!"
"But even so, I smell sulphur!" Kabumpo moved his trunk slowly from
side to side. "Something's burning, my lad, and close at hand, too."
"Why, it's a HORSE!" Randy's voice cracked from the sheer shock of the
thing. "And coming straight for us, too. Wait! Stop! Hold on! No, maybe
you'd better run. Great Gillikens, it's smoking!"
"A pipe?" inquired Kabumpo, trying to see through the fringe of hay
that was obscuring his vision. "And what if it is? Am I, the Elegant
Elephant of Oz, to run from a mere and miserable equine?"
"But this horse," squealed Randy, sliding head first off the haystack,
"this horse is different. Oh, really, REALLY, Kabumpo, I think we'd
better run."
"Never!" Pushing the hay off his forehead with his trunk, Kabumpo
looked fiercely out, then, with a start that dislodged half the load,
he began backing off as rapidly as he could, dragging Randy along by
the tail of his coat.