_Behind the Reindeer_
By this time Bab and Meg had sprung to the earth, and they all joined
in a cheer of joy.
“Good-bye to you!” cried Mudge. “I’m going back to my father, the Sea
Kobold. He has been expecting me for hundreds of years, and he will get
me some new scales. Thank you very much for helping me to get away.
Good-bye! Good-bye!” And he was off.
The Sea of Glass was close at hand, and Dick imagined that he could
see the Sea Kobold’s anxious head sticking up through the hole in the
glass, and watching what was happening on shore.
“There’s no time to be lost even now,” declared Bizzybuzz. “Hurry, all
of you!”
Several of the men-at-arms had reached the top of the wall, and the
children could hear one of them calling for the big key that opened
the gate, and horses on which to hunt down the escaping ones.
“Hurry!” said Bizzybuzz, even more anxiously. And they all ran as fast
as they could in the direction of the wood.
Bizzybuzz flew on ahead, calling to them to hurry; next came Humpty
Dumpty and the Princess,—she holding up her long train and not caring
at all that her crown was on the side of her pretty head,—and then Bab,
and Meg, and Dick, and Wiggles!
There, at the edge of the wood, was Santa Claus’s sleigh, with his
splendid reindeer, waiting impatiently to be off.
As they all climbed into the big sleigh, Dick looked back at the Red
City.
“The gate is open!” he exclaimed. “And they have gotten horses too!
They are going to try to catch us!”
“Never mind!” laughed Bizzybuzz, overhead, as the reindeer plunged
forward eagerly, and the sleigh rocked with the mad motion,—“Never
mind! They’ll have a pretty time—horses or no horses—trying to catch up
with Santa Claus’s fastest team!”
And then began the craziest, wildest, swiftest drive that anyone ever
saw or dreamed of. The horses of the people of the Red City were the
fastest in the world, but they were not so fast as the reindeer, and
they never quite overtook them. But sometimes they seemed to be drawing
very close, and then the Princess would scream, and Wiggles would bark,
and the reindeer would toss their antlers and go just a little bit
faster. And the racing horses behind, their heads strained forward and
their hoofs hardly seeming to touch the ground, would drop back a foot
or two. Their riders waved their arms and shouted, and once in a while
the occupants of the sleigh could hear threats as to what would happen
to them all when they were caught.
On they went,—on, and on, and on! And neither the horses nor the
reindeer seemed to be even tired. The reindeer, indeed, seemed to enjoy
the race, and their small hoofs actually danced over the earth.
Suddenly they passed a barefooted girl in a green dress, who laughed
and waved to them.
“The Idle Princess!” cried Bab.
“Dreams-Come-True!” exclaimed Meg.
“My Fairy of Fancy!” shouted Dick.
“Hush!” said Bizzybuzz. “You don’t know who she is,—you foolish little
persons! But whoever she is, she is going to help us now, or I am very
much mistaken.”
They all stood up in the sleigh to look, and saw a very wonderful
and pretty sight. The girl in the green gown was fastening chains of
flowers across the wood-path,—back and forth, back and forth, so that
the whole way was simply barred and blocked with roses, and lilies, and
daisies, and bluebells, and hyacinths, and sweet peas, and every other
delicious blossom that you can think of.
Now along came the people of the Red City, and the girl in the green
dress slipped away into the forest; but she probably peeked a little
from behind some tree, and saw what happened afterward. The horses
plunged at full speed into the maze of flowers that she had prepared
for them, and however they might leap and push and struggle and
trample, they could not get through the flower-chains. You see, making
chains of flowers happened to be the green-gowned girl’s pet hobby, and
no one in the world could ever break the chains she made.
But just two riders did manage to force their horses through, and
Dick, looking back,—of course that check had given them a splendid
advantage,—saw two steeds galloping wildly after them.
“She has kept back all but two!” he said. “Dear Fairy of Fancy!”
“But what are we to do with these?” asked Star, who was always worrying.
“Never fear,” said Bizzybuzz, cheerfully. “These children have too many
friends in the Make Believe Land for there to be any danger. Someone
else will happen along before long, and see that those two Red City
persons have more trouble!”
Now the three children had not realised before that they had made many
friends in Make Believe Land, and the thought surprised and pleased
them more than they would have believed possible. There was a little
warm glow around each of their hearts, and they looked up at little
Bizzybuzz gratefully.
“Thank you for telling us that, Bizzybuzz,” said Bab, shyly.
“Telling you!” laughed Bizzybuzz. “You will not need to be told it
pretty soon!”
Once more the Red City horses seemed to be gaining upon them. Suddenly
two huge owls flew out of the depths of the forest and began to flap
around the heads of the galloping horses.
“Who are they?” cried Meg, excitedly.
“Two of your friends,” returned the Goblin.
“Is one Moon-Eyes?” asked Dick.
Bizzybuzz nodded. “And the other,” he said, “is the Tail-less One, the
Owl Innkeeper!”
“Oh, how nice of them both!” cried Bab. “They won’t hurt the horses,
will they?”
“Oh, dear, no!” said Bizzybuzz. “But they may succeed in driving at
least one of them back.”
And indeed that is just what they did. One of the horses shied, and
reared, and finally wheeled straight about. The man fell off, and,
though he was not at all hurt, was so angry that he almost had a fit.
He stood in the centre of the path and shook his fist at the trees on
each side of him, as though he suspected them of having had something
to do with it.
The horse, with the owls after it, was running home to the Red City as
fast as it could possibly go.
The second rider had not stopped to see whether his comrade had been
killed or not, and was riding after the sleigh faster than ever.
“I wonder what will happen to _him_,” said Meg.
“Ah, little Miss Meg!” said Bizzybuzz. “You are beginning to trust your
friends!”
“Yes,” said Meg, with a sigh. “But really I didn’t think I should ever
trust anyone again, after the horrid time I had with Grump!”
“Hollo!” exclaimed Bizzybuzz. “There’s Green-Wings, the Dragon-Fly!”
The big insect came humming into the sleigh, and perched on the
dash-board.
“How are you all?” he asked.
“All right. Have you any news worth hearing?” said Bizzybuzz.
“Well, I’ve just come from the Palace of the Wicked King. You know I
like to lunch upon the green flowers that grow on that big tree under
the Princess’s window. I was sitting happily on one of the lower
branches, when a snail came crawling along the limb toward me.”
He paused impressively.
“Well, what of that?” said Bizzybuzz, impatiently. “There are many
snails.”
“Not many like this one. The snail seemed lonely, and though I hate all
snails, I could not refuse to talk to it when it sat itself down beside
me. It talked a great deal of nonsense at first,—all about its departed
glory, and how it hated the Wicked King, and stuff of that sort. But
finally it told me who it was, or rather, who it had been before it
became a snail. It was Grump!”
Of course, this does not surprise _you_, for you have known it all
along, but it surprised the children tremendously.
“Poor Grump!” sighed Meg. “He tried to boil me down, and use my soul in
a magic essence, but I really think that I am sorry to think that he
has got to be a snail for the rest of his life.”
“Look!” cried Bizzybuzz.
Out between the trees on their left stalked a strange animal,—strange,
at least, to all of them except Bab and the reindeer.
“Oh, stop the sleigh!” cried Bab. “It’s my dear Wooden Cow!”
“You can’t stop the sleigh,” said Dick. “Look at that man on horseback
who is still following us.”
“I think that she is right,” said Bizzybuzz. “It is safe to stop the
sleigh, for this beast has evidently been sent by Santa Claus to help
us.”
The reindeer seemed to think so too, for they stopped short and even
wheeled around. The Wooden Cow approached them with short, stiff steps.
“I have the honour,” she remarked, “to offer you my services. I have
come all the way from the far north to help you.”
“Well, there’s no time to lose,” said Bizzybuzz, looking at the
quickly nearing figures of the man and the horse. “If you can do
anything, please do it soon.”
The Wooden Cow turned away, and walked, with its own wooden dignity,
to meet the rider from the Red City. When it was quite close to him,
it stopped, and stood motionless in the middle of the path, and stared
straight ahead of it at the galloping horseman.
And a queer thing happened.
The horse stopped short. The man on its back became utterly still.
There was a sort of a pause, and then the same dreadful change began to
come over both horse and man which they had seen come over the Wicked
King. They both turned to wood, and the expressions on the two wooden
faces—that of the man and the animal alike—were so wicked and cruel and
horrid that one could not feel at all sorry that they had been turned
to wood.
The Wooden Cow returned with slow and solemn steps to the sleigh. Her
horn was still tied on with Bab’s ribbon, and the top of her head was
smeared in places with the sticky black paint and saw-dust.
“I hope that is satisfactory?” she said.
They all thanked her, and Bab leaned out of the sleigh to hug her hard.
“You dear old thing!” she said. “How sweet of you to turn up just now
to help us!”
“Santa Claus sent you, I suppose?” said Bizzybuzz.
The Wooden Cow looked hurt.
“No one sent me,” she declared. “I heard of the trouble you were in,
and I came to see what I could do. I can usually turn people into wood
when I don’t like them, and I was grateful to the little girl who put
on my horn and chased the Mischief Brownies away. Now that my duty is
done, I will go back to Santa Claus’s barn.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, dear Wooden Cow,” cried Bab. “Give my love
to Santa Claus when you get home!”
The Cow disappeared among the trees, and the reindeer started forward
again.
Finally Bizzybuzz pointed ahead to where a little clearing was shining
in a soft, sunset light. In it was a small, pretty cottage, from the
chimney of which a thin trail of blue smoke floated up into the sky. In
front of it was a gay little garden, and when Humpty Dumpty saw it, he
almost wept.
“At last!” said Bizzybuzz, smiling.
[Illustration]
XVII
_Mother Goose Once More_
[Illustration]
[Illustration]