E-text prepared by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 58566-h.htm or 58566-h.zip:
(https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/58566/pg58566-images.html)
or
(https://www.gutenberg.org/files/58566/58566-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/travelsadventure00lock
Transcriber’s note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
[Illustration: THE LITTLE BARON DISCHARGES HIS TUTORS. THEY LEAVE THE
BARONIAL HALL IN HIGH DUDGEON.]
TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES
OF
LITTLE BARON TRUMP
AND
HIS WONDERFUL DOG BULGER
by
INGERSOLL LOCKWOOD
Illustrated by George Wharton Edwards
Boston 1890
Lee and Shepard Publishers
10 Milk Street Next “Old South Meeting House”
New York Charles T. Dillingham
718 and 720 Broadway
Copyright, 1889,
By
Ingersoll Lockwood.
TO
MASTER EDWARD GOLD JOHNES
ONE OF
LITTLE BARON TRUMP’S
EARLIEST ADMIRERS
THIS BOOK IS GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE.
Brief Account of the Little Baron’s Famous Ancestor, the “Armless
Knight,” 7
CHAPTER II.
Something about the Elder Baron, the Little Baron’s Father—How
the Elder Baron made the Ascent of the Mountains of the
Moon—Wonderful Escape of the Elder Baron and Baroness from the
Impenetrable Fog, 12
CHAPTER III.
Birth of Bulger and the Little Baron in the Land of the Melodious
Sneezers—How the Little Baron was Rescued from Death by His
Faithful Bulger—The Elder Baron’s Return to Europe—His Trouble
with the Little Baron’s Tutors, 19
CHAPTER IV.
How the Elder Baron and Baroness, the Household Servants, and the
Horses and Cattle, of the Baronial Estates, all lost Flesh in
consequence of the Elder Baron’s Worrying about the Investment
of the Little Baron’s Fortune—How the Little Baron Solved the
Problem—How the Elder Baron Objected to the Little Baron’s
setting out on His Travels—Steps taken by the Little Baron to
Overcome this Opposition, 30
CHAPTER V.
The Little Baron’s First Voyage to Southern Seas, with a Brief
Account of how He Triumphed over the Terrors of Port No Man’s
Port and Rescued his Vessel from the Terrible Calm—His and
Bulger’s Wonderful Experience with that Strange Folk, the Wind
Eaters—Their Attempt to Slay Him; and, Bulger’s timely Arrival, 39
CHAPTER VI.
The Elder Baron’s Gift of a Copy of a Roman Newspaper—The Strange
Story it contained—How the Little Baron, upon reading it, was
moved to set sail in Search of the Sculptors’ Isle—His Sojourn
in the Land of the Slow Movers—Its Effect upon Little Baron—His
narrow escape from becoming a Slow Mover Himself, 103
CHAPTER VII.
Journey of Bulger and the Little Baron to Central Asia—Benè-agâ,
the Blind Guide—Their Passage through the Great Gloomy Forest
and their Perilous Flight down the Rocky Steps of
Bōga-Drappa—Adventures among the Umi-Lobas or Man-Hoppers, in
the Dominion of King Gâ-roo, 136
CHAPTER VIII.
Visit of the Little Baron to Neptune’s Caldron—How a Fearful
Storm drove them on the Coast of China—His and Bulger’s
Adventures in the Kingdom of the Sun, including an account of
Bulger’s Arrest and Trial—Although defended by the Little
Baron, he is sentenced to Death, 210
CHAPTER IX.
How the Little Baron again left Home contrary to Bulger’s
Advice—Some Account of the Awful Storm which cast them on the
Island of Gô-gû-lâh—Adventures among the Roundbodies who
inhabited it—Marriage of the Little Baron to Princess Rōlâ-Bōlâ
Utterly Incredible Manner in which the Little Baron and Bulger
made their Escape from the Domain of King Bô-gôô-gôô, 260
TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES
OF
LITTLE BARON TRUMP
AND
HIS WONDERFUL DOG BULGER.
CHAPTER I.
Short account of one of the little Baron’s most celebrated ancestors,
called “The Armless Knight.” His wonderful strength and bravery. How
he followed Cœur de Lion to the Orient. His brilliant exploits on
the battle-field, under the walls of Joppa. His marriage in the
presence of Saladin and Cœur de Lion.
[Illustration: SWORD STIRRUPS OF MY ANCESTOR, THE FAMOUS ARMLESS
KNIGHT.]
I come from one of the most ancient and honorable families of North
Germany—famous for its valor and love of adventure.
One of my ancestors, when just entering the twenties heard at his
father’s table one morning, that England’s great King Cœur de Lion was
about to lead an army against the infidels.
“Gracious parent,” cried the young man starting up from his seat, his
eyes on fire, his cheeks ablaze, “May I join the Crusaders and aid in
the destruction of the enemies of our holy religion?” “Alas, poor boy!”
replied his father, casting a pitying glance at the youth, who, through
some strange freak of nature had been born armless, “thou wert not
intended for terrible conflicts such as await our cousin Cœur de Lion.
Thou lackest every means of wielding the battle sword, of couching the
lance. ’Twould be murder to set thy defenceless body before the uplifted
cimeter of the merciless Moslem! My dear son, banish such thoughts from
thy mind and turn thee to poesy and philosophy, thou shalt add new
lustre to our family name by thy learning.” “Nay gracious parent, hear
me!” urged the youth with eloquent eye: “true, nature has denied me
arms, but she has not been so cruel as might be supposed for, as
compensation, she has given a giant’s strength to my lower limbs. Dost
not remember how last month, I slew a wild boar with one blow from the
heel of my hunting-boot?” “I do,” answered the grim old Baron with a
smile, “but—” “Pardon my interruption noble father” came from the young
man, “I shall go into battle doubly armed, for to each stirrup shall I
affix a sword and woe betide the Mussulman who dares meet me on the
battle-field.”
“Go then my son!” cried the old Baron as the tears trickled down his
battle-scarred cheeks, “go, join our royal cousin Cœur de Lion and if
thou, armless, canst withstand the fury of the infidel, another glory
will be added to the name of Trump, and in this ancestral hall shall
hang a portrait of the ‘Armless Knight,’ upon which for all time the
lovers of valiant deeds shall rest their wondering eyes.”
The joy of my young ancestor knew no bounds.
Scarcely staying to make needful preparations for his journey, with a
handful of trusty retainers, he rode from the castle yard amid the
plaudits of thousands of fair women who had gathered from the
neighboring city to wish God speed to the “Armless Knight.”
’Twas not until the famous battle under the walls of Joppa that my
ancestor had an opportunity to give an exhibition of his bravery, his
extraordinary strength, and the resistless fury of his onslaughts.
Not one, not five, not ten common soldiers dared face the “Armless
Knight.”
Whole squadrons recoiled in terror before this mysterious avenger of the
wrongs of Christendom, who, without hands, struck down the Moslem
warriors, as the grain falls before the blast.
Again and again, Saladin sent the flower of his men against the “Armless
Knight,” whose strength and valor had already made his name a terror to
the superstitious soldiery. Little realizing the terrible fate awaiting
him, the Moslem warrior would rush upon my ancestor with uplifted
cimeter, when with one blow of his sword-armed stirrup the “Armless
Knight” would cleave the breast of his foeman’s horse, and then trample
the infidel to death as he rolled upon the ground.
It was now high noon.
Upon an eminence, Saladin, watching the tide of battle, saw with anxious
eye the appalling slaughter of the very flower of his army.
Already the name, rank, and nationality of my young ancestor had been
made known to the Moslem leader.
“La, il la! Mahomed ul Becullah!” he cried, stroking his beard. “Blessed
is the man who can call that Christian warrior his son! How many of the
Prophet’s children has he slain this day?”
“Six hundred and fifty-nine!” was the answer given.
“Six hundred and fifty-nine,” echoed Saladin, “and it is but noonday!”
When nightfall came the number had been increased to one thousand and
seven.
Upon hearing of the terrible day’s work of the “Armless Knight,”
Saladin’s great heart bled, and yet he could not withhold his admiration
for such wondrous skill and bravery.
“Go!” cried the magnanimous infidel Chieftain, “go, take from my
household that beauteous slave Kohilât, her with orbs of lustrous black,
the very blossom of grace and flower of queenly beauty. Lead her to the
“Armless Knight,” with royal greeting from Saladin; his valor makes him
my brother, Giaour though he be! Away!”
When the beautiful Kohilât was led into the presence of my young
ancestor, and the announcement made to him that Saladin had sent her as
a present to him, the “Armless Knight,” with royal greeting as a token
of his respect for one so young, and yet so valiant, the first thought
of the Christian youth was to wave her indignantly from his presence.
At that moment, however, Kohilât raised her large and lustrous eyes, and
fixed them full upon the young man’s face.
It was more than human heart could stand.
Motioning her retinue to leave his tent, he advanced to her side, with
respectful mien, and said:
“Kohilât, a strange fate has sent thee to me. The messenger of the great
Saladin imparts to me knowledge of thy goodness, thy amiability, and thy
gifted mind, which holds within its store most delightful imagery and
useful knowledge as well. He informs me that thou standest in the direct
line of descent from that famed princess of your land, Scheherezada, who
for a thousand and one nights held the thoughts of the Sultan of the
Indies so enthralled by the play of her brilliant fancy, as to turn him
aside from his terrible project of vengeance. Dost think, Kohilât, that
thou canst forget thy false god and love only the true one?”
“Ay, my lord,” murmured the gentle Kohilât, “if such be my lord’s
pleasure.”
A smile spread over the handsome face of my young ancestor. He would
fain have met with more resistance in converting the fair infidel to the
true faith, but though he searched that beautiful face long and closely
for any sign of subtility, yet saw he none.
“’Tis well, Kohilât,” he continued, “and now answer me, and speak from
thy heart. Art thou willing to become my wife, according to the rites of
the Christian church and the laws of my native land?”
Again the beautiful Kohilât replied:
“Ay, my lord; if such be thy pleasure.”
The following day a truce was proclaimed, and in the presence of the two
great leaders of the opposing armies, Cœur de Lion and Saladin, both
surrounded by the most glorious retinue, my young ancestor and the
princess Kohilât were joined together as man and wife by the royal
confessor, the “Armless Knight” towering above the surrounding multitude
in his glittering coat of mail like a column of burnished silver. When
he advanced to meet his dark-eyed bride, with the marriage ring held
between his lips, a mighty shout went up from both armies.
Saladin stroked his beard. Cœur de Lion made the sign of the cross. In a
short half hour the leaders had returned to their camps, and war had
resumed its awful work of destruction.
To this union of my renowned ancestor, the “Armless Knight,” with the
Moslem maid, I attribute my possession of an almost Oriental exuberance
of fancy.
[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF MY FAMOUS ANCESTOR, THE “ARMLESS KNIGHT,”
WITH HIS MARRIAGE RING BETWEEN HIS LIPS.]