Baron Trump's Marvellous Underground Journey
THIS IS A LONG AND A SAD CHAPTER.—IT TELLS HOW DEAR, GENTLE,
POUTING-LIP WAS LOST, AND HOW THE SOODOPSIES GRIEVED FOR HIM AND
WHOM THEY SUSPECTED.—BULGER GIVES A STRIKING PROOF OF HIS
WONDERFUL INTELLIGENCE WHICH ENABLES ME TO CONVINCE THE
SOODOPSIES THAT MY “DANCING SPECTRE” DID NOT CAUSE POUTING-LIP’S
DEATH.—THE TRUE TALE OF HIS TERRIBLE FATE.—WHAT FOLLOWS MY
DISCOVERY.—HOW A BEAUTIFUL BOAT IS BUILT FOR ME BY THE GRATEFUL
SOODOPSIES, AND HOW BULGER AND I BID ADIEU TO THE LAND OF THE
MAKE-BELIEVE EYES. 129
CHAPTER XXI.
HOW WE WERE LIGHTED ON OUR WAY DOWN THE DARK AND SILENT
RIVER.—SUDDEN AND FIERCE ONSLAUGHT UPON OUR BEAUTIFUL BOAT OF
SHELL.—A FIGHT FOR LIFE AGAINST TERRIBLE ODDS, AND HOW BULGER
STOOD BY ME THROUGH IT ALL.—COLD AIR AND LUMPS OF ICE.—OUR ENTRY
INTO THE CAVERN WHENCE THEY CAME.—THE BOAT OF SHELL COMES TO THE
END OF ITS VOYAGE.—SUNLIGHT IN THE WORLD WITHIN A WORLD, AND ALL
ABOUT THE WONDERFUL WINDOW THROUGH WHICH IT POURED, AND THE
MYSTERIOUS LAND IT LIGHTED. 140
CHAPTER XXII.
THE PALACE OF ICE IN THE GOLDEN SUNLIGHT, AND WHAT I IMAGINED IT
MIGHT CONTAIN.—HOW WE WERE HALTED BY A COUPLE OF QUAINTLY CLAD
SENTINELS.—THE KOLTYKWERPS.—HIS FRIGID MAJESTY KING
GELIDUS.—MORE ABOUT THE ICE PALACE, TOGETHER WITH A DESCRIPTION
OF THE THRONE-ROOM.—OUR RECEPTION BY THE KING AND HIS DAUGHTER
SCHNEEBOULE.—BRIEF MENTION OF BULLIBRAIN, OR LORD HOT HEAD. 150
CHAPTER XXIII.
LORD HOT HEAD AGAIN, AND THIS TIME A FULLER ACCOUNT OF HIM.—HIS
WONDROUS TALES CONCERNING THE KOLTYKWERPS: WHERE THEY CAME FROM,
WHO THEY WERE, AND HOW THEY MANAGED TO LIVE IN THIS WORLD OF
ETERNAL FROST.—THE MANY QUESTIONS I PUT TO HIM, AND HIS ANSWERS
IN FULL. 159
CHAPTER XXIV.
SOME FEW THINGS CONCERNING THE DEAR LITTLE PRINCESS
SCHNEEBOULE.—HOW SHE AND I BECAME FAST FRIENDS, AND HOW ONE DAY
SHE CONDUCTED BULGER AND ME INTO HER FAVORITE GROTTO TO SEE THE
LITTLE MAN WITH THE FROZEN SMILE.—SOMETHING ABOUT HIM.—WHAT CAME
OF MY HAVING LOOKED UPON HIM QUITE FULLY DESCRIBED. 164
CHAPTER XXV.
A SLEEPLESS NIGHT FOR BULGER AND ME AND WHAT FOLLOWED
IT.—INTERVIEW WITH KING GELIDUS.—MY REQUEST AND HIS REPLY.—WHAT
ALL TOOK PLACE WHEN I LEARNED THAT THE KING AND HIS COUNCILLORS
HAD DECIDED NOT TO GRANT MY REQUEST.—STRANGE TUMULT AMONG THE
KOLTYKWERPS, AND HOW HIS FRIGID MAJESTY STILLED IT, AND SOME
OTHER THINGS. 171
CHAPTER XXVI.
HOW THE QUARRY MEN OF KING GELIDUS CLEFT ASUNDER THE CRYSTAL
PRISON OF THE LITTLE MAN WITH THE FROZEN SMILE.—MY BITTER
DISAPPOINTMENT, AND HOW I BORE IT.—WONDERFUL HAPPENINGS OF THE
NIGHT THAT FOLLOWED.—BULGER AGAIN PROVES HIMSELF TO BE AN ANIMAL
OF EXTRAORDINARY SAGACITY. 176
CHAPTER XXVII.
EXCITEMENT OVER FUFFCOOJAH.—I CARRY HIM TO THE COURT OF KING
GELIDUS.—HIS INSTANT AFFECTION FOR PRINCESS SCHNEEBOULE.—I AM
ACCUSED OF EXERCISING THE BLACK ART.—MY DEFENCE AND MY
REWARD.—ANXIETY OF THE KOLTYKWERPS LEST FUFFCOOJAH PERISH OF
HUNGER.—THIS CALAMITY AVERTED, ANOTHER STARES US IN THE FACE:
HOW TO KEEP HIM FROM FREEZING TO DEATH.—I SOLVE THE PROBLEM, BUT
DRAW UPON ME A STRANGE MISFORTUNE. 183
CHAPTER XXVIII.
HOW A LITTLE BURDEN MAY GROW TO BE A GRIEVOUS ONE.—STORY OF A MAN
WITH A MONKEY IN HIS HOOD.—MY TERRIBLE SUFFERING.—CONCERNING THE
AWFUL PANIC THAT SEIZED UPON THE KOLTYKWERPS.—MY VISIT TO THE
DESERTED ICE-PALACE, AND WHAT HAPPENED TO FUFFCOOJAH.—END OF HIS
BRIEF BUT STRANGE CAREER.—A FROZEN KISS ON A BLADE OF HORN, OR
HOW SCHNEEBOULE CHOSE A HUSBAND. 190
CHAPTER XXIX.
SOMETHING CONCERNING THE MANY PORTALS TO THE ICY DOMAIN OF KING
GELIDUS AND THE DIFFICULT TASK OF CHOOSING THE RIGHT ONE.—HOW
BULGER SOLVED IT.—OUR FAREWELL TO THE COLD-BLOODED
KOLTYKWERPS.—SCHNEEBOULE’S SORROW AT LOSING US. 200
CHAPTER XXX.
ALL ABOUT THE MOST TERRIBLE BUT MAGNIFICENT RIDE I EVER TOOK IN MY
LIFE.—NINETY MILES ON THE BACK OF A FLYING MASS OF ICE, AND HOW
BULGER AND I WERE LANDED AT LAST ON THE BANKS OF A MOST
WONDERFUL RIVER.—HOW THE DAY BROKE IN THIS UNDER WORLD. 209
CHAPTER XXXI.
IN WHICH YOU READ OF THE GLORIOUS CAVERNS OF WHITE MARBLE FRONTING
ON THE WONDERFUL RIVER.—IN THE TROPICS OF THE UNDER WORLD.—HOW
WE CAME UPON A SOLITARY WANDERER ON THE BANKS OF THE RIVER.—MY
CONVERSATION WITH HIM, AND MY JOY AT FINDING MYSELF IN THE LAND
OF THE RATTLEBRAINS, OR HAPPY FORGETTERS.—BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF
THEM. 217
CHAPTER XXXII.
HOW WE ENTERED THE LAND OF THE HAPPY FORGETTERS.—SOMETHING MORE
ABOUT THESE CURIOUS FOLK.—THEIR DREAD OF BULGER AND ME.—ONLY A
STAY OF ONE DAY ACCORDED US.—DESCRIPTION OF THE PLEASANT HOMES
OF THE HAPPY FORGETTERS.—THE REVOLVING DOOR THROUGH WHICH BULGER
AND I ARE UNCEREMONIOUSLY SET OUTSIDE OF THE DOMAIN OF THE
RATTLEBRAINS.—ALL ABOUT THE EXTRAORDINARY THINGS WHICH HAPPENED
TO BULGER AND ME THEREAFTER.—ONCE MORE IN THE OPEN AIR OF THE
UPPER WORLD, AND THEN HOMEWARD BOUND. 224
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Only Authentic Portrait of Wilhelm Heinrich Sebastian
von Troomp (from the oil painting) _Frontispiece_
Departure from Castle Trump 9
Along a Highway of the Under World 23
Before her Majesty Galaxa, Queen of the Mikkamenkies 35
A Dinner easily provided for 47
Princess Crystallina uncovers her Heart 59
Crystallina’s Heart on a Screen 71
Bulger parts his Master from Princess Crystallina 83
The Formifolk try the Beat of the Baron’s Heart by
Telephone 95
Barrel Brow engaged in reading Four Books at once 107
A Soodopsy Maiden reading her Favorite Poet 119
The Gigantic Tortoise that devoured Pouting Lip 131
Sailing away from the Land of the Soodopsies 143
The Battle for Life with the White Crabs 155
The Little Man with the Frozen Smile 167
Bulger shows the Baron Something Wonderful 179
The Baron’s Flight to the Ice Palace 191
Death of Fuffcoojah 197
Koltykwerpian Quarrymen hewing a Passage through the
Wall of Ice 203
The Wonderful Ride on the Block of Ice 207
The Tropics of the Under World 213
Through the Revolving Door 219
Caught up in the Arms of the Torrent 225
Hurled out in the Sunshine 231
A MARVELLOUS UNDERGROUND
JOURNEY
CHAPTER I
BULGER IS GREATLY ANNOYED BY THE FAMILIARITY OF THE VILLAGE DOGS AND
THE PRESUMPTION OF THE HOUSE CATS.—HIS HEALTH SUFFERS THEREBY, AND
HE IMPLORES ME TO SET OUT ON MY TRAVELS AGAIN. I READILY CONSENT,
FOR I HAD BEEN READING OF THE WORLD WITHIN A WORLD IN A MUSTY OLD
MS. WRITTEN BY THE LEARNED DON FUM.—PARTING INTERVIEWS WITH THE
ELDER BARON AND THE GRACIOUS BARONESS MY MOTHER.—PREPARATIONS FOR
DEPARTURE.
Bulger was not himself at all, dear friends. There was a lack-lustre
look in his eyes, and his tail responded with only a half-hearted wag
when I spoke to him. I say half-hearted, for I always had a notion that
the other end of Bulger’s tail was fastened to his heart. His appetite,
too, had gone down with his spirits; and he rarely did anything more
than sniff at the dainty food which I set before him, although I tried
to tempt him with fried chickens’ livers and toasted cocks’ combs—two of
his favorite dishes.
There was evidently something on his mind, and yet it never occurred to
me what that something was; for to be honest about it, it was something
which of all things I never should have dreamed of finding there.
Possibly I might have discovered at an earlier day what it was all
about, had it not been that just at this time I was very busy, too busy,
in fact, to pay much attention to any one, even to my dear four-footed
foster brother. As you may remember, dear friends, my brain is a very
active one; and when once I become interested in a subject, Castle Trump
itself might take fire and burn until the legs of my chair had become
charred before I would hear the noise and confusion, or even smell the
smoke.
It so happened at the time of Bulger’s low spirits that the elder baron
had, through the kindness of an old school friend, come into possession
of a fifteenth-century manuscript from the pen of a no less celebrated
thinker and philosopher than the learned Spaniard, Don Constantino
Bartolomeo Strepholofidgeguaneriusfum, commonly known among scholars as
Don Fum, entitled “A World within a World.” In this work Don Fum
advanced the wonderful theory that there is every reason to believe that
the interior of our world is inhabited; that, as is well known, this
vast earth ball is not solid, on the contrary, being in many places
quite hollow; that ages and ages ago terrible disturbances had taken
place on its surface and had driven the inhabitants to seek refuge in
these vast underground chambers, so vast, in fact, as well to merit the
name of “World within a World.”
This book, with its crumpled, torn, and time-stained leaves exhaling the
odors of vaulted crypt and worm-eaten chest, exercised a peculiar
fascination upon me. All day long, and often far into the night, I sat
poring over its musty and mildewed pages, quite forgetful of this
surface world, and with the plummet of thought sounding these
subterranean depths, and with the eye and ear of fancy visiting them,
and gazing upon and listening to the dwellers therein.
While I would be thus engaged, Bulger’s favorite position was on a
quaintly embroidered leather cushion brought from the Orient by me on
one of my journeys, and now placed on the end of my work-table nearest
the window. From this point of vantage Bulger commanded a full view of
the park and the terrace and of the drive leading up to the
_porte-cochère_. Nothing escaped his watchful eye. Here he sat hour by
hour, amusing himself by noting the comings and goings of all sorts of
folk, from the hawkers of gewgaws to the noblest people in the shire.
One day my attention was attracted by his suddenly leaping down from his
cushion and giving a low growl of displeasure. I paid little heed to it,