THE THREE JEWELS.
“I think we shall have to paddle our own canoe,” said Harry. “Get on
this side with your board, and I’ll take the other side. It will be
slow work, but we can do no better.”
The plan did not work, however, for Kitey’s piece of board was too
heavy for the little fellow, so Harry endeavored to paddle the craft
alone; but their progress was so slow and crooked that they would
probably have been there to this day had they found no other means of
propulsion.
“I think it would go straighter,” Kitey suggested, “if you should give
one stroke at a time on each side, and make the strokes even.”
To which Harry replied, “I say, old fellow, if you know so well how
to paddle this vessel, you’d better do it, and I’ll resign. I think,
though, if you ’tend to your own knitting, and steer a little, it will
go easier.”
“Steer!” Kitey said, in an injured tone; “how can a little fellow like
me steer, when you take one weak stroke on one side, and then two
great, big strokes on the other, and turn the table half-way around?”
As they were creeping, or rather wobbling, slowly along, most of the
time sidewise like a crab, all of a sudden they ran into a strong
current of wind, blowing directly towards the land of the Gnomes.
“Hurrah!” shouted Kitey. “The wind is turned on over at our place and
will help us across.”
“It will do more than help,” said Harry. “I’m going to make it do all
the work.”
So saying, he hastily untied the table-cloth and emptied out the food,
and then fastened the cloth across the two front legs of the table and
made a very fair substitute for a sail.
“Now,” said he, “we’ll both steer, and perhaps we can keep the old
craft headed straight.”
After that they went along finely, and at a fair rate of speed, and
eventually drew near the landing-place at Gnome Land.
“What plan have you in view, Prince Harry?” inquired Kitey.
“I have no plan at present,” Harry answered, much to the elf’s
astonishment, for he thought that Harry had a plan ready for any
emergency which might arise.
“I want to find out how Wamby and the rest are situated,” explained
Harry; “we’ll consult with him before we settle upon any definite plan
of action.”
Great was the excitement as they sailed up to the landing-place in
their strange boat. In a second the shore was crowded with Pin Elves,
dancing with glee, gesticulating wildly, and asking innumerable
questions.
“Stand back, and give us room to land!” said Harry peremptorily. “I
can’t answer any questions now,” he added, for he noticed that some
Gnomes, who were poking the fires near by, had stopped work and pricked
up their ears to hear what was said. “Tell me where Wamby is.”
“In the Reception Hall,” shouted an officious little chap. “I’ll show
you the way, master.”
“Never mind,” said Harry, “we’ll find him. Go ahead, Kitey, and I’ll
follow!”
The elves fell back and bowed low as Kitey advanced, but no one
ventured to follow him and Harry.
The two comrades made their way rapidly to the entrance of the Grand
Royal Reception Hall, and were delighted, on being ushered in, to see
Wamby seated on the throne at the further end. The little fellow did
not wait for them to reach him, but before they were half-way down the
Hall rushed forward joyfully to meet them.
“Oh, Prince! master!” he cried, and began hugging Harry’s feet.
Harry lifted him up in both hands and gave him a gentle squeeze. “How
d’ye do, old chap!” he exclaimed. “I’m awfully glad to find you safe!”
“And here’s Kitey, too!” cried Wamby, embracing his old friend. “Come
and sit down and tell me where you have been, and how you came here.”
When they had told their story, Wamby discussed with them their future
plans. They finally decided to gather all of the Pin Elves together,
and attempt to recover their own dominions from the Gnomes.
While messengers were sent to collect the elves, the three friends went
to the landing-place.
“Why,” said Harry, when they came there, “the wind is still blowing
from the other side.”
“Oh, I forgot about that!” Wamby cried in dismay. “It has been blowing
all the time we have been here. I think the Gnomes on the other side
keep it turned on, in order to prevent our sailing across.”
“Well, say,” said Kitey, “it seems to me if we turn on the wind here,
it will be strong enough to more than counteract the other wind.”
The suggestion was acted upon, and it was found that the strong current
there entirely overcame the current blowing towards them. Therefore
they gathered together the whole fleet of the Gnoman ships, every
Pin Elf scrambled aboard, and they were soon merrily sailing towards
home. The Head Caterer of the King of the Gnomes and his men were left
behind. As none of the vessels were left, it was, of course, impossible
for them to follow the Pin Elves.
The fleet made good progress at the start, but the speed diminished
perceptibly as they proceeded, and when they were about half-way
across, every ship came to a dead standstill.
“The Caterer must have turned off the wind!” exclaimed Wamby.
“No, Your Majesty,” said Kitey, “for I can feel it blowing yet. Why,
that’s funny! It seems to blow from both sides!”
“I know what’s the matter,” cried Harry. “The wind is turned on at both
sides at once, and we are just in the middle, where the two opposing
currents are equal; consequently, we can’t go forward or back. We are
stuck here.”
“I don’t understand how it is, Prince,” said Kitey.
“Why, it’s plain enough,” returned Harry. “Suppose you and Wamby were
pushing against each other with equal force, what would happen?”
“We’d both stand still,” answered Kitey.
“Exactly!” said Harry; “and that is just our case. The wind is pushing
us before and behind, and we are standing still. Now, if we could only
paddle one of these boats across, we could turn off the wind, and then
the rest of the fleet could sail over. There are no oars, but these
thwarts are light enough. Get two dozen of the strongest elves in here
with me, and we’ll soon accomplish it.”
The sails being taken down, the boat under Harry’s charge was paddled
over. The wind was then turned off, the other vessels sailed across,
and the elves disembarked.
“Now, Wamby,” asked Harry, “how many weapons have you?”
“A thousand spears,” replied Wamby.
It seems that the Pin Elves had all been disarmed when banished, but
Wamby had at once set a number of them at work manufacturing new
spears, and they had completed about a thousand when Harry arrived.
With these Harry armed a thousand of the elves.
“Now,” said he to Wamby, “you take the rest of the men around to the
armory and procure arms for them, and then bring them to the room
adjoining the Grand Reception Hall, where Kitey and I will be waiting
with our force.”
So saying, he and Kitey led the thousand armed elves to the place of
rendezvous. When they had quietly entered the room, Harry tiptoed to
the passage leading to the Reception Hall, and suddenly rushing in,
grasped by the neck the two Gnomes guarding the door there, and carried
them back to the room, where they were gagged and bound. Then, leaving
orders for his men to follow at a given signal, he and Kitey entered
the passage, with the intention of looking into the Reception Hall.
They had gotten within about eight feet of the door, when suddenly,
without any warning, the door flew open and a large body of the Gnomes
rushed upon them. Poor little Kitey was seized by a dozen at once, and
hustled into the Reception Hall before he had a chance to strike a
blow. At the same time, a hundred Gnomes tripped up Harry with strong
ropes, and despite his kicks and struggles he, too, was dragged into
the Reception Hall, and was in a trice securely bound hand and foot.
Then the door was shut and bolted, although the bolting was
unnecessary, for the Pin Elves had been deprived of their door-pins
when they had been banished. Harry still retained his pin concealed
under the lapel of his coat, but Kitey had loaned his to Wamby.
The two prisoners were carried before the King and laid upon the floor.
“Ha, ha!” laughed the King, in a snarling tone. “We Gnomes are not
quite so stupid as you imagined. My spies have been watching your
movements ever since you landed. The thousand elves that came with you
are safe where they are; they have no door-pin, and I shall just leave
them alone there, and let them starve.
“As for Wamby and his crowd—ah, here is a messenger now that will tell
us about them! Make your report,” he said to Smithkin, who had just
entered the hall.
With an obsequious bow, Smithkin began: “If it please Your Royal
Majesty, we were waiting outside the chamber with the great trap-door
in the floor. Wamby and his followers presently appeared and entered
the chamber without discovering our ambush. I cautiously crept forward
and inserted my door-pin in the hole controlling the trap-door, and
just as Wamby inserted his pin in the door leading out of the chamber,
I pressed upon my pin and dumped them all into the dungeon below. As
soon as the floor swung back into place, I ran forward and secured
Wamby’s door-pin, which had remained sticking in the hole, and I now
have the honor of presenting it to Your Majesty.”
“Good!” cried the King, with a malicious chuckle. “So they’re safe
too. Ha, ha! I’ll just let them starve with the others. Eh, Prince?”
he went on, with a taunting look at Harry; “a fine Prince you are, to
get your followers into such a scrape! Oh, I’ve a notion to kill you
both at once!” he growled savagely, and shook his pickax menacingly at
them. “But we’ll wait till after dinner, and then my royal colleague,
Cattisack, and my Lord of the Safety-Pin can have the pleasure of
torturing you a little. Take the prisoners over yonder, and you,
Smithkin, guard them while we eat!”
The King arose, and with two attendant Gnomes reverently bearing his
great, gray beard, he walked to the table and seated himself. The whole
company followed his example, and soon they were all busily eating and
talking.
Meanwhile, the two prisoners had been dragged to one side of the Hall
and left there, with no one but Smithkin near them.
Smithkin looked glum, and no wonder; for after the work he had done,
it was very hard to be obliged to perform guard duty and to have
nothing to eat. Harry guessed his thoughts, and made up his mind to
profit by his discontent.
“Smithkin,” he whispered, “it’s rather mean not to give you anything to
eat. I would treat you better than that if you were working for me.”
Smithkin scowled, and said nothing.
“Is any one in the room looking this way?” asked Harry.
The soldier glanced over the Hall, and shook his head slowly.
“Then,” continued Harry, “slip your hand in my left coat-pocket, and
take what you find there.”
With a quick movement Smithkin did so, and drew forth the three jewels.
He gave one glance at them, and then thrust them into the bosom of his
jacket, and standing erect again, whispered, “What do you want me to
do?”
“Simply keep your eye turned away from me for a minute,” said Harry;
“and don’t listen very hard.”
With some little effort the boy managed to get his right hand loose
enough to slip it into his coat-pocket, where he had placed the
paper-cutter. Drawing it out, he inserted its point under the cords
that bound his hands, and after a deal of sawing was able to cut one or
two of the bonds, and free his hands. It was then an easy matter to get
out his penknife, cut the bonds of Kitey, who was lying close beside
him, and quietly reach down and sever the cords about his own ankles.
All this while, Smithkin was staring stolidly at the opposite side of
the Hall, with his back turned to the two prisoners.
“Lie perfectly still, Kitey,” whispered Harry.
Then making sure that his limbs were free, he sprang to his feet, gave
Smithkin a vigorous kick that sent him sprawling on his face, took
Kitey in his arms, and dashing down the Hall, threw the little fellow
on top of a piece of furniture like a wardrobe, standing against the
wall, and vaulted up beside him.
In an instant all was hubbub and excitement. Smithkin, with a shriek,
grabbed his spear and rushed after Harry. The table where Grumpy
and his adherents were eating was overturned, and my Lord of the
Safety-Pin was pinned to the floor under it, yelling and howling like
mad. The Gnoman soldiers started for their spears. The King of the
Gnomes tried unaided to push his chair back, and in some way his feet
got tangled up in his beard, his chair upset, and he lay sprawling upon
his back, with his great beard flopping in the gravy and other victuals
on the table.
In the midst of the rumpus some one called, “Smithkin is a traitor! He
set them free!”
Instantly there was a hoarse cry from all over the Hall: “Catch
Smithkin! Punish the traitor!”
“Save me, Prince!” cried the terrified soldier.
“All right,” said Harry, “reach me your hand.” And grasping the
outstretched hand, he swung Smithkin up beside him, on top of the
wardrobe.