King of the Uplanders
Deeper and deeper the two travelers penetrated into the grim forest.
Except for the twitter of birds, and the occasional creaking of a
branch, as some animal made its way through the underbrush, there
was no sound. Almost holding his breath, Philador trotted after the
old Medicine Man, peering nervously to the right and left and half
expecting a bear or walapus to spring out of some hollow tree. But as
time passed and no wild beasts of any nature did appear, he began to
breathe easier and to look around with real interest and delight. The
huge gnarled trees were tinged with purple. Wild grape and wistaria
vines climbed in riotous profusion up the trunks and out over the
limbs, lacing them together and forming fairy-like arbors and leafy
lanes. The floor of the forest was thickly strewn with violets and the
fragrance of lavender was everywhere. Herby, being a native Gilliken,
was accustomed to the grandeur of the forest and pattered along in
a business-like manner, giving no attention to the purple pansies,
clustered around the great trees, nor the lordly flags, edging each
forest stream.
"I've heard that the Emerald City is but a day's journey from Mombi's
hut," he called over his shoulder, "and with this thinking cap to guide
us we'll be there for dinner. Then Ozma can magically transport us to
the Ozure Isles and save your father's Kingdom. I trust the Wizard of
Oz will give me an audience," he added hopefully. "I'd like to show him
my medicine chest and tell him my story."
"But I wonder what did become of Tattypoo?" mused Philador, stopping to
admire some especially lovely pansies. "Do you suppose we shall ever
find out?"
"Of course! Of course! With Ozma's famous picture and The Wizard's
magic we shall discover everything." Waving his arms happily, Herby
quickened his steps. As for Philador, the more he thought about the
capital of Oz, the more impatient he became to reach his journey's end.
Herby had taken off the thinking cap, and was marching along briskly,
the boxes and bottles in his medicine chest rattling and tinkling
and his wispy white hair snapping in the morning breeze. The trees
were farther apart now, and presently they stepped out of the forest
altogether. But only to find themselves on the brink of a rushing
torrent.
"Now what?" muttered the medicine man gloomily, and while Philador
gazed anxiously up and down the bank, he hurriedly opened the chest.
"What are you doing?" asked the boy curiously, as Herby poured several
pills from a small bottle into his palm.
"Keeping myself from getting cross," puffed the medicine man, quickly
swallowing the pills. "Have some?"
"But we want to get cross this river?" chuckled the little Prince
laughing in spite of himself.
"Well, I don't see how we are to do it, Phil." Mournfully the little
man returned the pill bottle to his chest and slammed the doors.
"That's what was making me cross, and I never allow myself to feel
cross," he finished placidly.
"Surely there is some way over." Sitting down on a log, Philador stared
thoughtfully at the ground. Both had forgotten the thinking cap which
would doubtless have solved the problem in a second. As it was, they
wasted nearly ten minutes wondering what to do and would probably have
been sitting there yet, had not a sudden rattle from the witch's
basket attracted their attention. Peeping in to see whether a squirrel
had gotten into the sandwiches, Phil was surprised to see the jumping
rope knocking its handles sharply together.
"Hurrah!" shouted the medicine man. "Tattypoo is helping us. Take the
rope Phil, and see what happens." Rather uncertainly Philador picked up
the rope. Nothing happened at first, then Phil began to revolve it as
he had seen the little girls on the Ozure Isles do. At the second skip
he flew lightly over the raging river. Herby shouted and waved from
the other side so he gaily skipped back.
"It's a good thing I took those pills," cried Herby, shaking his finger
at Phil, "otherwise I should have been very cross when you skipped
across the river and left me." At Philador's suggestion they each took
an end of the rope, then both skipping together jumped the river at one
bound.
"I'm glad we brought this, aren't you?" Beaming with satisfaction
and pleasure, Philador rolled up the marvelous jumping rope and put
it back in the basket. The medicine man, again bethinking himself of
the witch's cap and to be sure they were still going in the right
direction, put it gravely on his head.
"The way lies over those mountains," he observed after a short pause.
A quick walk through some fields brought them to the foot of the first
mountain and, undaunted by its height and cragginess, they began to
ascend, pulling themselves upward with the help of small saplings and
bushes. The mountain side was covered with heather so that it was as
purple as the witch's forest. Half way up, there was a small plateau
and, weary from their stiff climb, the two adventurers stopped to rest.
"Whew!" puffed the little Prince, taking off his crown and looking
ruefully at a long rent in his blue cloak. "I hope there are not many
more mountains like this one!"
"There aren't!" The answer was so loud and emphatic Philador jumped
nearly a foot, and Herby, after one astonished glance at the speaker,
threw open his chest and began rummaging wildly among its contents.
"What's he doing?" asked the stranger, as Herby clapped a dozen
lozenges into his mouth.
"Taking his medicine. It's just a habit he has," answered the little
Prince, eyeing the newcomer apologetically.
"I was taking a laugh lozenge, if you must know," announced the
medicine man, slamming his chest.
"A laugh lozenge!" roared the huge mountaineer, leaning over to get a
better look at the little man. "Why, what for?"
"To keep from laughing at you," explained Herby calmly.
"Give me one! Give me two, give me a dozen before I die!" Rocking
backward and forward, the great stranger howled so long and so heartily
that Philador began to pound him on the back, but Herby, waiting his
chance, popped six lozenges into his mouth. Instantly he stopped
laughing. "That's funny!" he mused uneasily. "I still feel like
laughing at you, but I can't."
"Same here!" Slapping his medicine chest, Herby strutted up and down.
"They're one of my best cures," he boasted proudly. "You've heard of
cough drops to keep one from coughing. Well laugh lozenges keep you
from laughing at the wrong time. Have another?" he invited generously.
"No thanks!" The big man shook his head in a puzzled manner and turned
to the little Prince.
"How do you happen to be climbing my mountain?" he inquired politely.
"Because it wouldn't climb itself," answered Philador boldly. His
answer tickled the mountaineer so tremendously he burst into a loud
roar.
"Ho! Ho! So it can't!" he shouted, "and you've saved my laugh, boy! I
was afraid I was cured for life."
"Those laugh lozenges will only keep you from laughing at me,"
explained Herby hastily.
"Oh!" wheezed the stranger with a relieved chuckle, "that's all right
then. I can stand not laughing _at_ you, but I must laugh with you.
It's the only thing I really do well," and to prove it he began to
laugh so merrily that Philador and Herby could not help from joining
in. Every time Philador tried to stop, another look at the mountaineer
would set him off again. To begin with the fellow was six feet tall and
dressed in purple velvet kilts like a Highlander. Then, his toes curled
up almost to his knees, his nose curled up, so did his eyebrows and the
corners of his mouth, while his hair grew straight on end and waved
to and fro. Indeed, a more comical and curious countenance the little
Prince had never gazed upon in his life.
"Ex--explain yourselves!" choked the mountaineer at last. "I'm on a
vacation but what are you on?"
"Vacation!" exclaimed Philador wiping his eyes and taking a long look
at a huge ax the mountaineer carried over one shoulder, for he had
quite evidently been chopping wood, "you're joking!"
"Joe King! Why, of course I'm Joe King, but how did you guess?"
Regarding the little boy with twinkling eyes he continued, "I'm joking
all the time. That's my name you see and that--" he waved up toward
the mountain top, "that is my Kingdom. I am King of the Uplanders, but
I was tired of kinging it so came down here to work and have a little
fun."
"Do you think work is fun?" asked Herby seriously.
"Well, it is for a king," admitted the mountain monarch frankly. "Takes
the kinks out of kinging. You look like a royal person your own self,"
he observed, eyeing Philador with sudden attention. "I see you are
wearing a crown."
"He's a Prince," confided Herby mysteriously, "and unless we reach
the Emerald City to-night, his kingdom will be utterly destroyed by a
monster."
"Then he can have half of mine," offered Joe King promptly. Philador
could not help smiling at this generous offer.
"If you would just show us the quickest way over the mountains," he
began eagerly, "it would help us a lot. You see my father is back on
the Ozure Isles, and he is more important than I am. Then there's my
mother!"
"Tell me all," commanded Joe, sitting down on a tree stump and drawing
Phil to his side. So Philador related the whole of his strange story
and even told how the medicine man had been released from Mombi's
enchantment. When he had finished the King slapped his thigh and sprang
briskly to his feet.
"I'll help you!" he declared promptly, and began ho-ing and hah-ing so
sonorously that Philador had to put both hands to his ears and Herby
dodged behind a tree to keep out of the draught.
"Ho! Ho! Where are you? Hi! Hi! Come back here you rascal. High Boy!
Ho! Boy, I say High Boy!"
"Whom are you calling?" faltered the little Prince, removing one hand
from his ear.
"My horse," panted the King, beginning to stamp, whistle and clap his
hands. And presently there was a clash, clatter and scrape, and down
the mountain slid the strangest steed Phil or the Medicine Man had ever
beheld. It was, to be perfectly frank with you, a Giant Horse. And as
you have doubtless never seen a giant horse I'd better describe him at
once. He was, to begin with, twice as large as an ordinary horse and
of a shiny purple. His eyes were red and roguish, his mane white and
flowing, while his tail was an umbrella. Yes, it really was. But it
was his legs that were most remarkable. High Boy had telescope legs,
capable of stretching up or down. When he slid into view, the front two
were short and the hind two were long, so that he had the appearance of
a kangaroo. A thistle bush hung loosely from the corner of his mouth,
and he seemed quite annoyed at being disturbed.
"What's up?" he snorted, rolling his eyes from one to another. As they
finally rested on the Medicine Man, he began to chew up the thistle
bush with great rapidity. Then, throwing back his head, he began to
laugh as only a high horse can.
"Better give him a laugh lozenge," muttered his Majesty, winking at
Philador, and Herby, who really did not like being laughed at, tip-toed
forward and slipped several lozenges down High Boy's throat.
"I cannot help looking funny," he explained with great dignity. "I'm
made from a funny mixture!"
"Haw! Haw!" sniffed the Giant Horse, opening one eye. "I should say you
are! That open front chest! That cap! He! He! You're enough to make a
horse laugh and a stone lion roar! Ho! Ho! Hah! Hah!"
"There, there!" cautioned the King. "We all have our peculiarities.
Herby's a medicine man and just full of harmless remedies. There, there
now, that will do!"
"It will have to do," coughed the Giant Horse "I can't hah another hah!"
Herby and Phil exchanged a satisfied little nod at this, and the King,
taking High Boy by the fore lock, introduced him to the travelers.
"High Boy, this is the Prince of the Ozure Isles! Prince, my horse!"
The Giant Horse pulled himself up and politely thrust out his hoof,
which Philador shook with some nervousness. Next Herby was presented
and hastily munched a laugh lozenge, so he could keep a straight face
during the proceedings.
"High Boy will carry you quickly to the capital, won't you, old fellow?"
High Boy nodded his head merrily and after several prances came over
and stood beside the King. His legs were now all of the same length,
and as Philador wondered how they should ever mount upon his back there
came a series of clicks. The horse's legs grew shorter and shorter,
till its body almost touched the ground.
"Hop on," directed Joe and, seizing his lunch basket, Philador hastened
to obey. Herby, holding his chest with both hands, climbed up after him
and the King mounting last of all gave the signal to start. Then up
went High Boy's legs to an unbelievable height, up snapped his umbrella
tail shading the travelers most comfortably and next instant they were
galloping over the purple mountain as fast as the West Wind and the
South Wind, too.
And riding a high horse has its advantages, let me tell you. When
climbing a mountain it keeps its front legs short and its back legs
long, so that its body is always on a level. This was quite fortunate,
for Herby and Philador had trouble enough keeping their seats and the
little Medicine Man was so jostled and bounced about he did nothing but
groan.
"My bottles will be smashed to bits," he chattered anxiously. "Do you
hear them knocking about?" Philador certainly did, but was so excited
and interested in this strange steed and his merry master he could not
be properly sympathetic.
"Look!" he cried breathlessly, "We're almost to the top and there's a
purple city and a castle high up in the clouds."
"That's Up Town!" cried Joe King pridefully. "And a tip top place to
be, isn't it, Highty, old boy?"
"Take the high way up and the low way down,
And when you are there, you may have the town!" he roared lustily.
"And here we are on my mountain top!
Where we have high times. Whoa! High Boy. Stop!"
The Giant Horse, with a joyous neigh, did stop, for they were right at
the city gates. No one came to admit them so High Boy raised himself up
and looked over the wall.
"Open in the name of the law!" he snorted impatiently. "The King and
two strangers are without!"