Meeting The Runaway Country
Everything was mixed up, indeed. Moving toward the little party of
rescuers was a huge jagged piece of land, running along on ten
tremendous feet and feeling its way with its long wiggly peninsula. The
feet raised it several yards above the ground.
“If we crouch down maybe it will run over us,” panted Pompa, sliding
down Kabumpo’s trunk.
“I don’t want to be run over,” shrilled Wag, beginning to hop in a
frenzied circle.
“Stop!” cried the Land in a loud voice, as Wag and Kabumpo started to
run.
“Better stop,” puffed Kabumpo, his eyes rolling wildly, “or it’ll
probably fall on us.” Trembling in spite of themselves, they stood still
and waited for the Land to approach.
[Illustration: (unlabelled)]
“I’ve often heard of sailors hailing land with joy,” gulped Wag, “but
this—well, how did it get this way?”
As the Runaway Country drew nearer, its peninsula fairly quivered with
excitement and as it reached them it pulled up its front feet and tilted
forward to get a better view. Its eyes were two small blue lakes and its
mouth a broad bubbling river.
“I claim you by right of discovery,” cried the Land in its loud, river
voice and before they could make any objection it scooped them up neatly
and tossed them on a little hill.
“This is outrageous,” spluttered the Elegant Elephant, picking Peg out
of some bushes. “We’ve been kidnapped!”
“Let’s jump off!” cried Wag, beginning to hop toward the edge.
“I wouldn’t do that,” said the Land calmly, “because I’d only run after
you again. You might as well settle down and grow up with me. I’m not
such a bad little Country,” it added quietly, “just a bit rough and
uncultivated.”
“Well, what’s that got to do with us,” demanded Kabumpo, staring the
Country right in its lake-eyes. “We’re on an important mission and we
haven’t time for this sort of thing at all.”
“It’s a matter of saving a Princess,” cried Pompa impulsively. “Couldn’t
you, please—”
“Let someone else save her,” said the Country indifferently, beginning
to move off sideways like a crab. “You’re the first savages I’ve found
and I’m going to keep you. Not that you’re what I’d pick out,” it
continued ungraciously. “That wooden girl looks uncommonly odd and you
two beasts are even queerer. But I’m liberal, I am, and the boy looks
all right so far as I can see.”
“But, look here,” panted Wag, twitching his nose very fast, “this is all
wrong. Land is supposed to stand still, isn’t it? You’ve no right to
discover us. We don’t want to be discovered. Put us off at once—do you
hear?”
“Yes, I hear,” said the Runaway Country gruffly. “And I’ve heard about
enough. Don’t anger me,” it shrilled warningly. “Remember, I’m a wild,
rough Country.”
“You’re the wildest Country I ever saw,” groaned the Elegant Elephant,
falling up against a tree. “And of all ridiculous happenings this is the
worst!”
“Never mind,” whispered Peg Amy, standing on her tip toes to whisper in
Kabumpo’s huge ear, “it’s taking us in the right direction, and maybe,
if we were very polite—?”
“Go ahead and try it,” wheezed Kabumpo, rolling his eyes. “I’m too
upset.” He hugged the tree again.
So Peg climbed to the top of the little hill and, waving her wooden arms
to attract the Country’s attention, called cheerfully:
“Yoho, Mr. Land! Where are you going?”
[Illustration: (unlabelled)]
At first the Land only blinked his blue lake-eyes sulkily but, as Peg
paid no attention to his ill temper and began making him pretty
compliments on his mountains and trees, he gradually cheered up.
“I’m going to be an island,” he announced finally. “That’s where I’m
going. I’m tired of being a hot, dry old undiscovered plateau and I
don’t intend to stop till I come to the Nonestic Ocean.”
“Oh!” groaned Wag, falling over backwards. “We’re going to be cast away
on a desert island.”
Peg held up a warning finger. “What made you want to run away and be an
island?” she asked faintly for, even to Peg, things looked serious.
“Well,” began the Land, giving itself a hitch, “I lay patiently for
years and years waiting to be discovered. Nobody came—not even one
little missionary. I kept getting lonelier and lonelier. You see how
broken up I am!”
“Yes, we can see that, all right,” sniffed Kabumpo.
“And I’m ambitious,” continued the Country huskily. “I want to be
cultivated and built up like other Kingdoms. So, one day I made up my
mind I wouldn’t wait any longer but would run off myself and discover
some settlers. As I have ten mountains and each has a foot there seemed
to be no reason why I shouldn’t run away, so I _did_—and I _have_!”
The Country rolled its lakes triumphantly at the little party on the
hill. “I have found some settlers and I’m looking to you to develop me
into a good, modern, up-to-Oz Kingdom. I’m a progressive Country and I
expect you to improve and make something out of me,” it continued
earnestly. “There’s gold to be dug out of my mountains, plenty of good
farm land to be planted and cities to be built, and—”
“What do you think we are?” exploded Kabumpo indignantly. “Slaves?”
“He’ll get used to it in time,” said the Runaway Country, paying no
attention to Kabumpo, “and he’ll be useful for drawing logs. Now you,”
he turned his watery eyes full on Peg Amy, “you seem to be the most
sensible one in the party, so I think I shall bestow myself upon you. Of
course you’re not at all handsome nor regular, but from now on you may
consider yourself a Princess and _me_ as your Kingdom.”
“Thank you! Thank you very much!” said Peg Amy, hardly knowing what else
to say.
“Hurrah for the Princess of Runaway Island!” cried Wag, standing on his
head. “I always knew you were a Princess, Peg my dear.”
“Oh, hush!” whispered Pompa. “Can’t you see it’s getting more
reasonable? Maybe Peg can persuade it to stop.”
“If it doesn’t stop soon I’ll tear all its trees out by the roots,”
grumbled Kabumpo under his breath. “Logging, indeed! Great Grump! Here’s
the Deadly Desert!”
The air was now so hot and choking that Pompa flung himself face down on
the cool grass. The Runaway Country did not seem to notice the burning
sands and pattered smoothly along on its ten mountain feet.
[Illustration: (unlabelled)]
“Something has to be done, quick,” breathed Peg, clasping her hands,
“for soon we’ll be in Ev.”
Pompa, holding his silk handkerchief before his face, had come up beside
her and they both looked anxiously for the first signs of the country
that held Ruggedo and the giant who had run off with Ozma’s palace.
“Oh, Mr. Land,” called Peg suddenly.
“Yes, Princess,” answered the Country, without slackening its speed.
“Have you thought about feeding us?” asked the Wooden Doll gently. “I
don’t see any fruit trees or vegetables or chickens and settlers must
eat, you know. We ought to have some seeds to plant and some building
materials, oughtn’t we, if we’re going to make you into an up-to-Oz
Country?”
“Pshaw!” said the Runaway Country, stopping with a jolt, “I never
thought of that. Can’t you eat grass and fish? There’s fine fish in my
lakes.”
“Well, I don’t eat at all,” explained Peg pleasantly, “but Pompa is a
Prince and a Prince has to have meat and vegetables and puddings on
Sunday—”
“And I have to have lettuce and carrots and cabbages, or I won’t work!”
cried Wag, thumping with his hind feet and winking at Kabumpo. “I’ll not
dig a single mountain!”
“And I’ve got to have my ton of hay a day, too!” trumpeted the Elegant
Elephant, “or I’ll not lug a single log. Pretty poor sort of a Country
you are, expecting us to live on grass as if we were donkeys and goats.”
The Runaway Country rolled its lakes helplessly from one to the other.
“I thought settlers always managed to get a living off the land,” it
murmured in a troubled voice.
“Not us!” rumbled Kabumpo. “Not enough pie in pioneer to suit this
party!”
“Has your Highness anything to suggest?” asked the Country, looking
anxiously at Peg.
“Well,” said the Wooden Doll slowly, “suppose we stop at the first
country we come to and stock up. We could get a few chickens and seeds
and saws and hammers and things.”
“You’d run away,” said the Runaway Country suspiciously. “Not but what I
trust you, Princess,” he added hastily, “but them.” He scowled darkly at
Kabumpo and Wag. “I’ll not let them out of my sight.”
“How our little floating island loves us,” chuckled Wag, nudging the
Elegant Elephant.
“They won’t run away,” said Peg softly. “And if they did you could
easily catch them again.”
“That’s so; I’ll stop wherever you say,” sighed the Country, starting on
again.
“What are you going to do?” whispered Pompa, catching Peg’s arm.
“I don’t know,” said Peg honestly, “but perhaps if we can make it stop
something will turn up. We’re almost across the desert now and that’s a
big help.”
“You’re wonderful!” cried Pompa, eying Peg gratefully. “How can I ever
thank you?”
“Better get your sword ready,” said Peg practically, “for we may run
into that giant any minute now.” Even Kabumpo and Wag had stopped making
jokes and were straining their eyes toward Ev.
“Let’s all stand together!” gasped Wag breathlessly. Before Peg or Pompa
had time to plan, or Kabumpo to reply, the Runaway Country stepped off
the desert and swept over the border and into the Kingdom of Ev, making
straight for a tall purple mountain.
“Do you see anything that looks like a giant, or a palace?” asked Peg,
leaning forward.
“Oh, help!” screamed Wag just then, while Kabumpo gave an earsplitting
trumpet. Peg grasped Pompa and Pompa clutched Peg and no wonder!
Directly in front of them were the legs and feet of the most terrible
and tremendous giant they had ever imagined. He was sitting on the
mountain itself and only a part of him was visible, for his head and
shoulders were lost in the clouds.
[Illustration: Kabumpo gave an ear-splitting trumpet]
“What’s the matter? What’s the matter?” rumbled the Runaway Country,
tilting forward slightly so it could see. One look was enough. With a
frightened jump, that sent the four travelers hurtling through the air,
it began running backwards and in a moment was out of sight.
Peg was the first to recover her senses. Being wood, bumps didn’t bother
her. She rose stiffly and gazed around her. Pompa’s feet were waving
feebly from a small clump of bushes. Kabumpo stood swaying near by,
while Wag lay over on his side with closed eyes.
“Oh, you poor dears!” murmured Peg, and running over to the bushes she
pulled out the Prince of Pumperdink and settled him with his back
against a tree. He was much shaken by his high dive from the island, but
pulled himself together and patted Peg’s wooden hand kindly. By this
time Kabumpo had gotten his bearings and came wabbling over.
“You’ve got a black eye, I see,” wheezed the Elegant Elephant bitterly.
“Not so very black,” said Peg cheerfully. “Are you hurt, Kabumpo?”
The Elegant Elephant felt himself all over with his trunk. “Well, I’m
not used to being flung about like a bean bag,” he said irritably. Then
he lowered his voice hastily, as he caught another glimpse of those
dreadful giant feet. “I’ll go help Wag,” he whispered, backing away
quickly.
It took some time to rouse the giant rabbit, but finally he opened his
eyes. “I shought I thaw a giant,” he muttered thickly. “Hush!” warned
Kabumpo. “He’s over there.” He waved his trunk in the direction of the
mountain and began dragging Wag firmly away.
“C’mon over here,” he called in a loud whisper to Peg and Pompa. Leaning
heavily on Peg Amy the Prince came. Then he gave a cry of distress. “My
sword!” he gasped, staring around a bit wildly.
“I’ll find it,” said Peg obligingly. “You sit still and rest.”
“Where’s the Magic Box?” coughed Kabumpo, with an uneasy glance in the
giant’s direction.
Now that they were actually in Ev, the Elegant Elephant began to doubt
the wisdom of his plan for killing the monster.
“Gone!” wailed Pompa, feeling in his pocket. “I dropped it when I fell
off the Land. What shall we do, Kabumpo?”
“Don’t be a Gooch,” gulped the Elegant Elephant, but he said it without
spirit.
“It’s probably around here somewhere.” Moving quietly, Kabumpo began to
poke about with his trunk.
Just then Peg Amy came flying toward them, her ragged dress fluttering
in the breeze.
“Look!” whispered the Wooden Doll, dropping on her knees before them.
In her hands was Glegg’s Box of Mixed Magic and _it was open_!
[Illustration: (unlabelled)]
[Illustration: (unlabelled)]