The King of the Kudgers
The Wizard's plan worked very well, at first. He and the Soldier
astride one stick, Dorothy and Jellia, holding the poor, sodden
Scarecrow between them on the other, shot high into the air, across
the lake and over the amazed ranks of Bowmen drawn up on the bank.
Before the Red Beards had recovered from their surprise, the travellers
were winging strongly toward the turretted red castle that crowned the
mountain top. The Cowardly Lion, to escape the flying arrows, had swum
under water. Now, scrambling up the bank, he neatly skirted the enemy
and ran swiftly beneath the two, flying staffs.
"As soon as we're safely past this castle, we'll descend, rest, dry
our clothes and then proceed to the Emerald City," called the Wizard,
turning to wave encouragingly at the two girls.
But at that moment a dreadful thing happened. Sprawled on a huge camp
chair on the sloping terrace before the castle, its huge, red-bearded
owner suddenly sighted the flying sticks and their riders. Seizing
the long bow that lay beside him on the grass, he sent two arrows
speeding upward, one right after the other. Each arrow found its mark
and splintered a flying stick. With spine-shattering suddenness the
travellers crashed to earth. Dorothy, describing it to Ozma later,
explained that although she never had been in a battle, she knew
exactly how a warrior felt when his horse was shot from under him.
Except, of course, that a horseman would not have had so far to fall.
The Scarecrow, tumbling off first, softened the bump for both girls.
The Wizard and Soldier plunged headlong into a red-pepper bush. While
not seriously injured, they were grievously scratched and shaken. But
the worst was not the blow to their pride and persons, the worst was to
see the upper and winged halves of their precious sticks flying away
without them.
"Oh! Oh!" groaned the Wizard, leaping out of the pepper bush and
running for an anguished yard or two after the vanishing staffs. "This
is awful, AWFUL! Come back! Come down!" he implored, realizing even as
he shouted that the sticks could neither hear nor obey.
"Noo then, whew are yew?" The startled Red Beard hoisted himself out of
his camp chair. "W--itches riding on br--hoom sticks? Noo then, call
off yewer dog!" The Cowardly Lion, noting the mischief already done by
the Red King's bow, had seized it in his teeth and backed rapidly into
the bushes. The Wizard, reluctantly withdrawing his gaze from the sky,
now stamped over to the astonished owner of the castle.
"Just see what you've done," he cried angrily. "Destroyed the only
winged staffs in Oz. We flew them all the way from the Strat and now,
how are we to reach the Emerald City in time to stop the airlanders?
Don't you realize--but how could you?" In sudden discouragement the
Wizard broke off and stared despondently around the rugged mountain
top. "I must tell you," he began again in a hoarse and desperate voice,
"that Ozma and the Emerald City are in great danger. Strut of the
Strat and a host of his flying Stratovanians are descending to conquer
Oz and carry off Ozma's treasure. If we fail to warn her the city is
lost--doomed--I tell you! Since you have shattered our flying sticks
you must quickly supply us with some other means of travel. We must
reach the capital before morning!"
"MUST!" roared the Bearded Bowman. "Are yew shouting 'must' at ME?"
"Be careful!" cried Dorothy. For the Wizard, in his earnestness, had
stepped closer and closer to the red King. But her cry was too late.
Without any warning, the King's pointed beard, rising with his wrath,
pointed straight out and struck the valiant Wizard to the earth. For
a whole minute he lay perfectly still, staring up at this curious
phenomenon. Though he had seen many a beard in his day, he had never
been knocked down by one before.
"Whew are yew?" demanded the burly mountain monarch again. "How dare
yew fly over my castle and swim in my lake without permission?"
Stroking his beard which gradually resumed a vertical position on his
chest, he stared from one to the other of the adventurers. "No use to
run," he sneered as Wantowin Battles began to back toward the bushes.
"My bowmen will be here any moment now! But WHEW are YEW?"
"Wheww!" groaned Jellia, propping the bedraggled Scarecrow against a
rock. "A body'd hardly know, after such a welcome. Whew are yew,
yewerself, yew old Redbeard!"
"I?" roared the Bowman, taken completely by surprise. "Why, don't yew
know? I am Bustabo, King of the Kudgers and Red Top Mountain."
"I don't believe it," said the Wizard, leaping agilely to his feet and
shaking his fist under Bustabo's long nose. "A _real_ King would not
treat travellers as you have done, shoot away valuable flying sticks
and keep two lovely girls standing out here in the wind."
"How dew yew know what a King would dew?" demanded Bustabo, puckering
his forehead in an uneasy frown.
"Because," stated the Wizard, folding his arms disdainfully, "I
personally know all the most important rulers in Oz, and none of them
would behave as you have done. If you are a King, act like a King!"
"Whew are yew?" repeated the Ruler of Red Top, walking around the
little group with hands clasped behind his back.
"Oh, for Oz sake--tell him!" snarled the Cowardly Lion, poking his head
out of the bushes. "If he asks that question again I might eat him up,
pointed beard and all!"
"Well, this is the Wizard of Oz," explained Dorothy, as the Lion
stalked grimly out of the bushes, "Chief Magician for Ozma of Oz.
This--" Dorothy, with a wave of her hand, indicated the trembling
soldier, "This is Wantowin Battles, the Grand Army of Oz. Beside him
is our famous, live Scarecrow. I am Princess Dorothy of Oz and this is
Jellia Jam, First Lady in Waiting to Ozma. Coming toward you is the
Cowardly Lion of Oz."
"He doesn't look very cowardly to me," muttered Bustabo, putting the
camp chair between himself and the approaching beast.
"Oh, but I am cowardly," growled the lion growlishly, "and when I'm
frightened I never know what I'll do. I might even chew up the King of
this Mountain! Whoever heard of a King pointing his beard at harmless
travellers! Whoever heard of a King with a beard as hard and red as
yours, anyway! It's hard as iron from the looks of it."
"Harder!" agreed the King, evidently considering the lion's remark a
compliment. "All we Kudgers have red beards--not of soft hair like
his--" The Red King gazed contemplatively at the Soldier with Green
Whiskers, "but of hard hair like mine. I don't suppose yew've ever
seen a beard like this before. The point's sharp as a dagger, too," he
warned, as the lion sprang a pace closer.
"Oh, I'm sure it is," said Dorothy nervously. "And it's dreadfully
handsome, too. But could your Majesty please let us dry out in your
castle and then could you show us the quickest route to the Emerald
City? If you don't," finished Dorothy, clasping her hands anxiously,
"the ruler of this whole country of Oz may be captured and carried to
the Strat."
"What do I care about the Ruler of Oz?" sniffed Bustabo, scratching his
head in a most unkingly manner. "Ozma never does anything for me! Even
if she were conquered I'd still have my Mountain. Why should I help yew
or her or them?" His scornful wave included the whole little group.
"What can yew dew for me?" he asked sullenly. "Can yew sing?" His dull
eye brightened momentarily as it rested inquiringly on Dorothy.
"Well, a little," confessed Dorothy, smoothing down her damp dress.
Clearing her throat and fixing her eye on the top of a red pine, she
started in rather a choked voice:
"Oh, Bright and gay is the Land of Oz
We love its lakes and hills becoz--"
"There, there! That will dew!" Bustabo snapped his fingers impatiently,
and taking out a little book scribbled hastily: "Can't sing."
"Can yew dance?" he demanded, addressing himself to Jellia. "We are
short of good dancers on this mountain." Jellia by this time was in
such a state of cold and temper, she stamped her foot and turned her
back on the unmannerly monarch. "Can't dance," wrote Bustabo under the
first entry.
"Well, then--what _dew_ yew dew?" he asked, turning in exasperation to
the Wizard.
"I?" said the Wizard, twirling his water-soaked topper, "I, am a
Wizard. Naturally I supposed a King like yourself would have everything
he desired. But if that is not the case, tell me what you wish and
perhaps I can help you. Only be quick!" he added earnestly, "for we
have no time to lose."
"Sooo, yew really are a Wizard!" Bustabo's expression became almost
agreeable. "Well, then," he drew himself up pompously. "The Princess
whom I wish to wed has unaccountably disappeared. Find and return her
to this castle, and I will speed yew and yewer friends to the Emerald
City by the safest and swiftest route!"
"But that would take too much time," objected the Wizard, rubbing his
chin anxiously. "Who is this Princess? Why has she gone? What is her
name and what does she look like?"
"If yew were a real Wizard yew would know all these things without my
telling yew," answered Bustabo, looking suspiciously at Ozma's Chief
Magician. "I'll tell you this much, though. The Princess whom I would
marry is called Azarine, the Red. Not three days ago she was in this
castle, but on the morning of our wedding day she ran off into the
forest, and though all my Bowmen have been searching ever since, not a
trace of her have they found!"
"Humph, the girl showed very good sense, if you ask me," sniffed the
Cowardly Lion, shaking his mane, "What did you do? Point your beard at
her? Come on, Wiz! Let's go. We're just wasting time here."
"Aha, but yew cannot leave! Look behind yew!" Bustabo, with an enormous
laugh, pointed over his shoulder. Silently as Indians the Bearded
Bowmen had crept up and entirely surrounded the little company on the
green. Standing in a circle with bows raised and beards pointed, they
fairly dared anyone to take a step. "Soo, then, it's all settled!" The
Red King clapped the Wizard heartily on the back. "Don't think I have
not heard of yewer skill, Mister Weezard. Even here on Red Top we've
heard rumors of the wonderful Weezard of Oz. Now all yew have to dew
is walk into that forest, find the Princess and bring her back to me.
Meanwhile, I shall treat these others as my guests. They shall rest and
warm themselves and have all they wish to eat. If by morning yew have
failed to return, I shall regretfully be forced to throw them off the
mountain. If yew dew return, yew will find that Bustabo will keep his
word and bargain."
The Wizard hardly knew what to say.
"If he knows so much, why does he not help himself?" demanded one of
the Red Beards, stepping insolently out of the circle. "People who
can fly through the air on icebergs and sticks do not need help from
ordinary folk like us. Why doesn't he fly to the Emerald City if he's
so smart? I'll tell you why--because he's not the Wizard of Oz! He's a
fraud, that's what!"
"If he's a fraud then you're a rascal!" cried Jellia Jam, remembering
suddenly that she recently had been a Starina. "Your Princess is as
good as found, Mister King! Isn't that so, Wizard?" Meeting Jellia's
firm gaze, the Wizard nodded quickly.
"This young Oz maid is right, your Majesty! Before the sun rises
Azarine will return to this castle!"
"Yes--and now bid your vassals lead us into the castle!" ordered Jellia
sharply. "Bring us soup, meat, bread, vegetables, salad and plenty of
fruit and cake!"
Bustabo, after a long look both at Jellia and the Wizard, motioned for
the Bowmen to lead the visitors into the castle. The Cowardly Lion
trailed suspiciously along in the rear, keeping a sharp watch to see
that no beards were pointed at his friends. The Wizard accompanied
them part way, conversing in earnest whispers with Jellia and Dorothy.
Wantowin Battles supported the dripping and still helpless Scarecrow,
and each tried not to show the anxiety he felt when the Wizard finally
turned to leave them.
"Goodbye, all!" he said, lifting his dripping hat. "Goodbye,
Jellia--_here is your bag_!" Tapping the kit-bag significantly, he
pressed it into Jellia's cold hands. Then, without a word to Bustabo or
his Henchmen, he strode resolutely toward the dark forest that covered
the sides and more than half of the top of the mountain. Relenting a
little, the Red King sent a Bowman running after him with a basket of
provisions. Taking the basket with a brief nod of thanks, the Wizard
waved again to his friends and marched straight into the gloomy and
forbidding woods.