the losses on crops and fences and so forth were largely reduced by
the fish that came with the storm. One farmer took a rake and caught
three hundred pounds of trout, forty pounds of sun-fish, eight
turtles, and a minnow in his potato patch in five minutes. Others were
almost as fortunate, but the damage was sufficiently large to teach me
that parents cannot be too careful about what they let their children
do on the day they celebrate."
"And weren't you ever punished?" asked the Twins.
"No, indeed," said the Baron. "Nobody ever knew that I did it because
I never told them. In fact you are the only two persons who ever heard
about it, and you mustn't tell, because there are still a number of
farmers around that region who would sue me for damages in case they
knew that I was responsible for the accident."
[Illustration: "Out of what appeared to be a clear sky came the most
extraordinary rain storm you ever saw." _Chapter VI._]
"That was pretty awful," said the Twins. "But we don't want to blow up
ponds so as to get cascadeses, but we do want torpeters. Torpeters
aren't any harm, are they, Uncle Munch?"
"Well, you can never tell. It all depends on the torpedo. Torpedoes
are sometimes made carelessly," said the Baron. "They ought to be made
as carefully as a druggist makes pills. So many pebbles, so much
paper, and so much saltpeter and sulphur, or whatever else is used to
make them go off. I had a very unhappy time once with a carelessly
made torpedo. I had two boxes full. They were those tin-foil torpedoes
that little girls are so fond of, and I expected they would make quite
a lot of noise, but the first ten I threw down didn't go off at all.
The eleventh for some reason or other, I never knew exactly what, I
hurled with all my force against the side of my father's barn, and my,
what a surprise it was! It smashed in the whole side of the barn and
sent seven bales of hay, and our big farm plough bounding down the
hillside into the town. The hay-bales smashed down fences; one of them
hit a cow-shed on its way down, knocked the back of it to smithereens
and then proceeded to demolish the rear end of a small crockery shop
that fronted on the main street. It struck the crockery shop square in
the middle of its back and threw down fifteen dozen cups and saucers,
thirty-two water pitchers, and five china busts of Shakespeare. The
din was frightful--but I couldn't help that. Nobody could blame me,
because I had no means of knowing that the man who made the torpedoes
was careless and had put a solid ball of dynamite into one of them. So
you see, my dear Imps, that even torpedoes are not always safe."
"Yes," said Angelica. "I guess I'll play with my dolls on my birthday.
They never goes off and blows things up."
"That's very wise of you," said the Baron.
"But what became of the plough, Uncle Munch?" said Diavolo.
"Oh, the plough didn't do much damage," replied Mr. Munchausen. "It
simply furrowed its way down the hill, across the main street, to the
bowling green. It ploughed up about one hundred feet of this before it
stopped, but nobody minded that much because it was to have been
ploughed and seeded again anyhow within a few days. Of course the
furrow it made in crossing the road was bad, and to make it worse the
share caught one of the water pipes that ran under the street, and
ripped it in two so that the water burst out and flooded the street
for a while, but one hundred and sixty thousand dollars would have
covered the damage."
The Twins were silent for a few moments and then they asked:
"Well, Uncle Munch, what kind of fire-works are safe anyhow?"
"My experience has taught me that there are only two kinds that are
safe," replied their old friend. "One is a Jack-o-lantern and the
other is a cigar, and as you are not old enough to have cigars, if you
will put on your hats and coats and go down into the garden and get me
two pumpkins, I'll make each of you a Jack-o'-lantern. What do you
say?"
"We say yes," said the Twins, and off they went, while the Baron
turning over in the hammock, and arranging a pillow comfortably under
his head, went to sleep to dream of more birthday recollections in
case there should be a demand for them later on.
VII
SAVED BY A MAGIC LANTERN
When the Sunday dinner was over, the Twins, on Mr. Munchausen's
invitation, climbed into the old warrior's lap, Angelica kissing him
on the ear, and Diavolo giving his nose an affectionate tweak.
"Ah!" said the Baron. "That's it!"
"What's what, Uncle Munch?" demanded Diavolo.
"Why that," returned the Baron. "I was wondering what it was I needed
to make my dinner an unqualified success. There was something lacking,
but what it was, we have had so much, I could not guess until you two
Imps kissed me and tweaked my nasal feature. Now I know, for really a
feeling of the most blessed contentment has settled upon my soul."
"Don't you wish _you_ had two youngsters like us, Uncle Munch?" asked
the Twins.
"Do I wish I had? Why I have got two youngsters like you," the Baron
replied. "I've got 'em right here too."
"Where?" asked the Twins, looking curiously about them for the other
two.
"On my knees, of course," said he. "You are mine. Your papa gave you
to me--and you are as like yourselves as two peas in a pod."
"I--I hope you aren't going to take us away from here," said the
Twins, a little ruefully. They were very fond of the Baron, but they
didn't exactly like the idea of being given away.
"Oh no--not at all," said the Baron. "Your father has consented to
keep you here for me and your mother has kindly volunteered to look
after you. There is to be no change, except that you belong to me,
and, vice versa, I belong to you."
"And I suppose, then," said Diavolo, "if you belong to us you've got
to do pretty much what we tell you to?"
"Exactly," responded Mr. Munchausen. "If you should ask me to tell you
a story I'd have to do it, even if you were to demand the full
particulars of how I spent Christmas with Mtulu, King of the Taafe
Eatars, on the upper Congo away down in Africa--which is a tale I have
never told any one in all my life."
"It sounds as if it might be interesting," said the Twins. "Those are
real candy names, aren't they?"
"Yes," said the Baron. "Taafe sounds like taffy and Mtulu is very
suggestive of chewing gum. That's the curious thing about the savage
tribes of Africa. Their names often sound as if they might be things
to eat instead of people. Perhaps that is why they sometimes eat each
other--though, of course, I won't say for sure that that is the real
explanation of cannibalism."
"What's cannon-ballism?" asked Angelica.
"He didn't say cannon-ballism," said Diavolo, scornfully. "It was
candy-ballism."
"Well--you've both come pretty near it," said the Baron, "and we'll
let the matter rest there, or I won't have time to tell you how
Christmas got me into trouble with King Mtulu."
The Baron called for a cigar, which the Twins lighted for him and then
he began.
"You may not have heard," he said, "that some twenty or thirty years
ago I was in command of an expedition in Africa. Our object was to
find Lake Majolica, which we hoped would turn up half way between
Lollokolela and the Clebungo Mountains. Lollokolela was the
furthermost point to which civilisation had reached at that time, and
was directly in the pathway to the Clebungo Mountains, which the
natives said were full of gold and silver mines and scattered all over
which were reputed to be caves in which diamonds and rubies and other
gems of the rarest sort were to be found in great profusion. No white
man had ever succeeded in reaching this marvellously rich range of
hills for the reason that after leaving Lollokolela there was, as far
as was known, no means of obtaining water, and countless adventurous
spirits had had to give up because of the overpowering thirst which
the climate brought upon them.
"Under such circumstances it was considered by a company of gentlemen
in London to be well worth their while to set about the discovery of a
lake, which they decided in advance to call Majolica, for reasons best
known to themselves; they probably wanted to jar somebody with it. And
to me was intrusted the mission of leading the expedition. I will
confess that I did not want to go for the very good reason that I did
not wish to be eaten alive by the savage tribes that infested that
region, but the company provided me with a close fitting suit of mail,
which I wore from the time I started until I returned. It was very
fortunate for me that I was so provided, for on three distinct
occasions I was served up for state dinners and each time successfully
resisted the carving knife and as a result, was thereafter well
received, all the chiefs looking upon me as one who bore a charmed
existence."
Here the Baron paused long enough for the Twins to reflect upon and
realise the terrors which had beset him on his way to Lake Majolica,
and be it said that if they had thought him brave before they now
deemed him a very hero of heroes.
"When I set out," said the Baron, "I was accompanied by ten Zanzibaris
and a thousand tins of condensed dinners."
"A thousand what, Uncle Munch?" asked Jack, his mouth watering.
"Condensed dinners," said the Baron, "I had a lot of my favourite
dinners condensed and put up in tins. I didn't expect to be gone more
than a year and a thousand dinners condensed and tinned, together with
the food I expected to find on the way, elephant meat, rhinoceros
steaks, and tiger chops, I thought would suffice for the trip. I could
eat the condensed dinners and my followers could have the elephant's
meat, rhinoceros steaks, and tiger chops--not to mention the bananas
and other fruits which grow wild in the African jungle. It was not
long, however, before I made the discovery that the Zanzibaris, in
order to eat tigers, need to learn first how to keep tigers from
eating them. We went to bed late one night on the fourth day out from
Lollokolela, and when we waked up the next morning every mother's son
of us, save myself, had been eaten by tigers, and again it was nothing
but my coat of mail that saved me. There were eighteen tigers' teeth
sticking into the sleeve of the coat, as it was. You can imagine my
distress at having to continue the search for Lake Majolica alone. It
was then that I acquired the habit of talking to myself, which has
kept me young ever since, for I enjoy my own conversation hugely, and
find myself always a sympathetic listener. I walked on for days and
days, until finally, on Christmas Eve, I reached King Mtulu's palace.
Of course your idea of a palace is a magnificent five-story building
with beautiful carvings all over the front of it, marble stair-cases
and handsomely painted and gilded ceilings. King Mtulu's palace was
nothing of the sort, although for that region it was quite
magnificent, the walls being decorated with elephants' tusks,
crocodile teeth and many other treasures such as delight the soul of
the Central African.
"Now as I may not have told you, King Mtulu was the fiercest of the
African chiefs, and it is said that up to the time when I outwitted
him no white man had ever encountered him and lived to tell the tale.
Consequently, when without knowing it on this sultry Christmas Eve,
laden with the luggage and the tinned dinners and other things I had
brought with me I stumbled upon the blood-thirsty monarch I gave
myself up for lost.
"'Who comes here to disturb the royal peace?' cried Mtulu, savagely,
as I crossed the threshold.
"'It is I, your highness,' I returned, my face blanching, for I
recognized him at once by the ivory ring he wore in the end of his
nose.
"'Who is I?' retorted Mtulu, picking up his battle axe and striding
forward.
"A happy thought struck me then. These folks are superstitious.
Perhaps the missionaries may have told these uncivilised creatures the
story of Santa Claus. I will pretend that I am Santa Claus. So I
answered, 'Who is I, O Mtulu, Bravest of the Taafe Chiefs? I am Santa
Claus, the Children's Friend, and bearer of gifts to and for all.'
"Mtulu gazed at me narrowly for a moment and then he beat lightly upon a
tom-tom at his side. Immediately thirty of the most villainous-looking
natives, each armed with a club, appeared.
"'Arrest that man,' said Mtulu, 'before he goes any farther. He is an
impostor.'
"'If your majesty pleases,' I began.
"'Silence!' he cried, 'I am fierce and I eat men, but I love truth.
The truthful man has nothing to fear from me, for I have been
converted from my evil ways and since last New Year's day I have eaten
only those who have attempted to deceive me. You will be served raw at
dinner to-morrow night. My respect for your record as a man of courage
leads me to spare you the torture of the frying-pan. You are Baron
Munchausen. I recognized you the moment you turned pale. Another man
would have blushed.'
"So I was carried off and shut up in a mud hovel, the interior walls
of which were of white, a fact which strangely enough, preserved my
life when later I came to the crucial moment. I had brought with me,
among other things, for my amusement solely, a magic lantern. As a
child, I had always been particularly fond of pictures, and when I
thought of the lonely nights in Africa, with no books at hand, no
theatres, no cotillions to enliven the monotony of my life, I resolved
to take with me my little magic-lantern as much for company as for
anything else. It was very compact in form. It folded up to be hardly
larger than a wallet containing a thousand one dollar bills, and the
glass lenses of course could be carried easily in my trousers pockets.
The views, instead of being mounted on glass, were put on a substance
not unlike glass, but thinner, called gelatine. All of these things I
carried in my vest pockets, and when Mtulu confiscated my luggage the
magic lantern and views of course escaped his notice.
"Christmas morning came and passed and I was about to give myself up
for lost, for Mtulu was not a king to be kept from eating a man by
anything so small as a suit of mail, when I received word that before
dinner my captor and his suite were going to pay me a formal parting
call. Night was coming on and as I sat despondently awaiting the
king's arrival, I suddenly bethought me of a lantern slide of the
British army, standing and awaiting the command to fire, I happened to
have with me. It was a superb view--lifelike as you please. Why not
throw that on the wall and when Mtulu enters he will find me
apparently with a strong force at my command, thought I. It was no
sooner thought than it was done and my life was saved. Hardly was that
noble picture reflected upon the rear wall of my prison when the door
opened and Mtulu, followed by his suite, appeared. I rose to greet
him, but apparently he saw me not. Mute with terror he stood upon the
threshold gazing at that terrible line of soldiers ready as he thought
to sweep him and his men from the face of the earth with their
death-dealing bullets.
[Illustration: "'I am your slave,' he replied to my greeting, kneeling
before me, 'I yield all to you.'" _Chapter VII._]
"'I am your slave,' he replied to my greeting, kneeling before me, 'I
yield all to you.'
"'I thought you would,' said I. 'But I ask nothing save the discovery
of Lake Majolica. If within twenty-four hours Lake Majolica is not
discovered I give the command to fire!' Then I turned and gave the
order to carry arms, and lo! by a quick change of slides, the army
appeared at a carry. Mtulu gasped with terror, but accepted my
ultimatum. I was freed, Lake Majolica was discovered before ten
o'clock the next morning, and at five o'clock I was on my way home,
the British army reposing quietly in my breast pocket. It was a mighty
narrow escape!"
"I should say so," said the Twins. "But Mtulu must have been awful
stupid not to see what it was."
"Didn't he see through it when he saw you put the army in your
pocket?" asked Diavolo.
"No," said the Baron, "that frightened him worse than ever, for you
see he reasoned this way. If I could carry an army in my pocket-book,
what was to prevent my carrying Mtulu himself and all his tribe off in
the same way! He thought I was a marvellous man to be able to do
that."
"Well, we guess he was right," said the Twins, as they climbed down
from the Baron's lap to find an atlas and search the map of Africa for
Lake Majolica. This they failed to find and the Baron's explanation is
unknown to me, for when the Imps returned, the warrior had departed.
VIII
AN ADVENTURE IN THE DESERT
"The editor has a sort of notion, Mr. Munchausen," said Ananias, as he
settled down in the big arm-chair before the fire in the Baron's
library, "that he'd like to have a story about a giraffe. Public taste
has a necky quality about it of late."
"What do you say to that, Sapphira?" asked the Baron, politely turning
to Mrs. Ananias, who had called with her husband. "Are you interested
in giraffes?"
"I like lions better," said Sapphira. "They roar louder and bite more
fiercely."
"Well, suppose we compromise," said the Baron, "and have a story about
a poodle dog. Poodle dogs sometimes look like lions, and as a rule
they are as gentle as giraffes."
"I know a better scheme than that," put in Ananias. "Tell us a story
about a lion and a giraffe, and if you feel disposed throw in a few
poodles for good measure. I'm writing on space this year."
"That's so," said Sapphira, wearily. "I could say it was a story about
a lion and Ananias could call it a giraffe story, and we'd each be
right."
"Very well," said the Baron, "it shall be a story of each, only I must
have a cigar before I begin. Cigars help me to think, and the
adventure I had in the Desert of Sahara with a lion, a giraffe, and a
slippery elm tree was so long ago that I shall have to do a great deal
of thinking in order to recall it."
So the Baron went for a cigar, while Ananias and Sapphira winked
enviously at each other and lamented their lost glory. In a minute the
Baron returned with the weed, and after lighting it, began his story.
"I was about twenty years old when this thing happened to me," said
he. "I had gone to Africa to investigate the sand in the Desert of
Sahara for a Sand Company in America. As you may already have heard,
sand is a very useful thing in a great many ways, more particularly
however in the building trades. The Sand Company was formed for the
purpose of supplying sand to everybody that wanted it, but land in
America at that time was so very expensive that there was very little
profit in the business. People who owned sand banks and sand lots
asked outrageous prices for their property; and the sea-shore people
were not willing to part with any of theirs because they needed it in
their hotel business. The great attraction of a seaside hotel is the
sand on the beach, and of course the proprietors weren't going to sell
that. They might better even sell their brass bands. So the Sand
Company thought it might be well to build some steam-ships, load them
with oysters, or mowing machines, or historical novels, or anything
else that is produced in the United States, and in demand elsewhere;
send them to Egypt, sell the oysters, or mowing machines, or
historical novels, and then have the ships fill up with sand from the
Sahara, which they could get for nothing, and bring it back in ballast
to the United States."
"It must have cost a lot!" said Ananias.
"Not at all," returned the Baron. "The profits on the oysters and
mowing machines and historical novels were so large that all expenses
both ways were more than paid, so that when it was delivered in
America the sand had really cost less than nothing. We could have
thrown it all overboard and still have a profit left. It was I who
suggested the idea to the President of the Sand Company--his name was
Bartlett, or--ah--Mulligan--or some similar well-known American name,
I can't exactly recall it now. However, Mr. Bartlett, or Mr. Mulligan,
or whoever it was, was very much pleased with the idea and asked me if
I wouldn't go to the Sahara, investigate the quality of the sand, and
report; and as I was temporarily out of employment I accepted the
commission. Six weeks later I arrived in Cairo and set out immediately
on a tour of the desert. I went alone because I preferred not to take
any one into my confidence, and besides one can always be more
independent when he has only his own wishes to consult. I also went on
foot, for the reason that camels need a great deal of care--at least
mine would have, if I'd had one, because I always like to have my
steeds well groomed whether there is any one to see them or not. So to
save myself trouble I started off alone on foot. In twenty-four hours
I travelled over a hundred miles of the desert, and the night of the
second day found me resting in the shade of a slippery elm tree in the
middle of an oasis, which after much suffering and anxiety I had
discovered. It was a beautiful moonlight night and I was enjoying it
hugely. There were no mosquitoes or insects of any kind to interfere
with my comfort. No insects could have flown so far across the sands.
I have no doubt that many of them have tried to get there, but up to
the time of my arrival none had succeeded, and I felt as happy as
though I were in Paradise.
"After eating my supper and taking a draught of the delicious spring
water that purled up in the middle of the oasis, I threw myself down
under the elm tree, and began to play my violin, without which in
those days I never went anywhere."
"I didn't know you played the violin," said Sapphira. "I thought your
instrument was the trombone--plenty of blow and a mighty stretch."
"I don't--now," said the Baron, ignoring the sarcasm. "I gave it up
ten years ago--but that's a different story. How long I played that
night I don't know, but I do know that lulled by the delicious strains
of the music and soothed by the soft sweetness of the atmosphere I
soon dropped off to sleep. Suddenly I was awakened by what I thought
to be the distant roar of thunder. 'Humph!' I said to myself. 'This is
something new. A thunder storm in the Desert of Sahara is a thing I
never expected to see, particularly on a beautifully clear moonlight
night'--for the moon was still shining like a great silver ball in the
heavens, and not a cloud was anywhere to be seen. Then it occurred to
me that perhaps I had been dreaming, so I turned over to go to sleep
again. Hardly had I closed my eyes when a second ear-splitting roar
came bounding over the sands, and I knew that it was no dream, but an
actual sound that I heard. I sprang to my feet and looked about the
horizon and there, a mere speck in the distance, was something--for
the moment I thought a cloud, but in another instant I changed my
mind, for glancing through my telescope I perceived it was not a cloud
but a huge lion with the glitter of hunger in his eye. What I had
mistaken for the thunder was the roar of this savage beast. I seized
my gun and felt for my cartridge box only to discover that I had lost
my ammunition and was there alone, unarmed, in the great desert, at
the mercy of that savage creature, who was drawing nearer and nearer
every minute and giving forth the most fearful roars you ever heard.
It was a terrible moment and I was in despair.