Rinkitink in Oz
sense, and laugh in a brainless manner at senseless things. That part of
the story is true enough, Rinkitink."
"Then proceed with the tale, sweet Bilbil. Yet it is hard to believe
that any King could be brainless--unless, indeed, he proved it by owning
a talking goat."
Bilbil glared at him a full minute in silence. Then he resumed his
story:
"This empty-headed man was a King by accident, having been born to that
high station. Also the King was empty-headed by the same chance, being
born without brains."
"Poor fellow!" quoth the King. "Did he own a talking goat?"
"He did," answered Bilbil.
"Then he was wrong to have been born at all. Cheek-eek-eek-eek, oo,
hoo!" chuckled Rinkitink, his fat body shaking with merriment. "But it's
hard to prevent oneself from being born; there's no chance for protest,
eh, Bilbil?"
"Who is telling this story, I'd like to know," demanded the goat, with
anger.
"Ask someone with brains, my boy; I'm sure I can't tell," replied the
King, bursting into one of his merry fits of laughter.
Bilbil rose to his hoofs and walked away in a dignified manner, leaving
Rinkitink chuckling anew at the sour expression of the animal's face.
"Oh, Bilbil, you'll be the death of me, some day--I'm sure you will!"
gasped the King, taking out his lace handkerchief to wipe his eyes; for,
as he often did, he had laughed till the tears came.
Bilbil was deeply vexed and would not even turn his head to look at his
master. To escape from Rinkitink he wandered among the ruins of the
palace, where he came upon Prince Inga.
"Good morning, Bilbil," said the boy. "I was just going to find you,
that I might consult you upon an important matter. If you will kindly
turn back with me I am sure your good judgment will be of great
assistance."
The angry goat was quite mollified by the respectful tone in which he
was addressed, but he immediately asked:
"Are you also going to consult that empty-headed King over yonder?"
"I am sorry to hear you speak of your kind master in such a way," said
the boy gravely. "All men are deserving of respect, being the highest of
living creatures, and Kings deserve respect more than others, for they
are set to rule over many people."
"Nevertheless," said Bilbil with conviction, "Rinkitink's head is
certainly empty of brains."
"That I am unwilling to believe," insisted Inga. "But anyway his heart
is kind and gentle and that is better than being wise. He is merry in
spite of misfortunes that would cause others to weep and he never speaks
harsh words that wound the feelings of his friends."
"Still," growled Bilbil, "he is--"
"Let us forget everything but his good nature, which puts new heart into
us when we are sad," advised the boy.
"But he is--"
"Come with, me, please," interrupted Inga, "for the matter of which I
wish to speak is very important."
Bilbil followed him, although the boy still heard the goat muttering
that the King had no brains. Rinkitink, seeing them turn into the ruins,
also followed, and upon joining them asked for his breakfast.
Inga opened the sack of food and while he and the King ate of it the boy
said:
"If I could find a way to remove some of the blocks of marble which have
fallen in the banquet hall, I think I could find means for us to escape
from this barren island."
"Then," mumbled Rinkitink, with his mouth full, "let us move the blocks
of marble."
"But how?" inquired Prince Inga. "They are very heavy."
"Ah, how, indeed?" returned the King, smacking his lips contentedly.
"That is a serious question. But--I have it! Let us see what my famous
parchment says about it." He wiped his fingers upon a napkin and then,
taking the scroll from a pocket inside his embroidered blouse, he
unrolled it and read the following words: "'Never step on another man's
toes.'"
The goat gave a snort of contempt; Inga was silent; the King looked from
one to the other inquiringly.
"That's the idea, exactly!" declared Rinkitink.
"To be sure," said Bilbil scornfully, "it tells us exactly how to move
the blocks of marble."
"Oh, does it?" responded the King, and then for a moment he rubbed the
top of his bald head in a perplexed manner. The next moment he burst
into a peal of joyous laughter. The goat looked at Inga and sighed.
"What did I tell you?" asked the creature. "Was I right, or was I
wrong?"
"This scroll," said Rinkitink, "is indeed a masterpiece. Its advice is
of tremendous value. 'Never step on another man's toes.' Let us think
this over. The inference is that we should step upon our own toes, which
were given us for that purpose. Therefore, if I stepped upon another
man's toes, I would be the other man. Hoo, hoo, hoo!--the other
man--hee, hee, heek-keek-eek! Funny, isn't it?"
"Didn't I say--" began Bilbil.
"No matter what you said, my boy," roared the King. "No fool could have
figured that out as nicely as I did."
"We have still to decide how to remove the blocks of marble," suggested
Inga anxiously.
"Fasten a rope to them, and pull," said Bilbil.
"Don't pay any more attention to Rinkitink, for he is no wiser than the
man who wrote that brainless scroll. Just get the rope, and we'll fasten
Rinkitink to one end of it for a weight and I'll help you pull."
"Thank you, Bilbil," replied the boy. "I'll get the rope at once."
Bilbil found it difficult to climb over the ruins to the floor of the
banquet hall, but there are few places a goat cannot get to when it
makes the attempt, so Bilbil succeeded at last, and even fat little
Rinkitink finally joined them, though much out of breath.
Inga fastened one end of the rope around a block of marble and then made
a loop at the other end to go over Bilbil's head. When all was ready the
boy seized the rope and helped the goat to pull; yet, strain as they
might, the huge block would not stir from its place. Seeing this, King
Rinkitink came forward and lent his assistance, the weight of his body
forcing the heavy marble to slide several feet from where it had lain.
But it was hard work and all were obliged to take a long rest before
undertaking the removal of the next block.
"Admit, Bilbil," said the King, "that I am of some use in the world."
"Your weight was of considerable help," acknowledged the goat, "but if
your head were as well filled as your stomach the task would be still
easier."
When Inga went to fasten the rope a second time he was rejoiced to
discover that by moving one more block of marble he could uncover the
tile with the secret spring. So the three pulled with renewed energy and
to their joy the block moved and rolled upon its side, leaving Inga free
to remove the treasure when he pleased.
But the boy had no intention of allowing Bilbil and the King to share
the secret of the royal treasures of Pingaree; so, although both the
goat and its master demanded to know why the marble blocks had been
moved, and how it would benefit them, Inga begged them to wait until the
next morning, when he hoped to be able to satisfy them that their hard
work had not been in vain.
Having little confidence in this promise of a mere boy, the goat
grumbled and the King laughed; but Inga paid no heed to their ridicule
and set himself to work rigging up a fishing rod, with line and hook.
During the afternoon he waded out to some rocks near the shore and
fished patiently until he had captured enough yellow perch for their
supper and breakfast.
"Ah," said Rinkitink, looking at the fine catch when Inga returned to
the shore; "these will taste delicious when they are cooked; but do you
know how to cook them?"
"No," was the reply. "I have often caught fish, but never cooked them.
Perhaps Your Majesty understands cooking."
"Cooking and majesty are two different things," laughed the little King.
"I could not cook a fish to save me from starvation."
"For my part," said Bilbil, "I never eat fish, but I can tell you how to
cook them, for I have often watched the palace cooks at their work." And
so, with the goat's assistance, the boy and the King managed to prepare
the fish and cook them, after which they were eaten with good appetite.
That night, after Rinkitink and Bilbil were both fast asleep, Inga stole
quietly through the moonlight to the desolate banquet hall. There,
kneeling down, he touched the secret spring as his father had
instructed him to do and to his joy the tile sank downward and disclosed
the opening. You may imagine how the boy's heart throbbed with
excitement as he slowly thrust his hand into the cavity and felt around
to see if the precious pearls were still there. In a moment his fingers
touched the silken bag and, without pausing to close the recess, he
pressed the treasure against his breast and ran out into the moonlight
to examine it. When he reached a bright place he started to open the
bag, but he observed Bilbil lying asleep upon the grass near by. So,
trembling with the fear of discovery, he ran to another place, and when
he paused he heard Rinkitink snoring lustily. Again he fled and made his
way to the seashore, where he squatted under a bank and began to untie
the cords that fastened the mouth of the bag. But now another fear
assailed him.
"If the pearls should slip from my hand," he thought, "and roll into the
water, they might be lost to me forever. I must find some safer place."
Here and there he wandered, still clasping the silken bag in both hands,
and finally he went to the grove and climbed into the tall tree where he
had made his platform and seat. But here it was pitch dark, so he found
he must wait patiently until morning before he dared touch the pearls.
During those hours of waiting he had time for reflection and reproached
himself for being so frightened by the possession of his father's
treasures.
"These pearls have belonged to our family for generations," he mused,
"yet no one has ever lost them. If I use ordinary care I am sure I need
have no fears for their safety."
When the dawn came and he could see plainly, Inga opened the bag and
took out the Blue Pearl. There was no possibility of his being observed
by others, so he took time to examine it wonderingly, saying to himself:
"This will give me strength."
Taking off his right shoe he placed the Blue Pearl within it, far up in
the pointed toe. Then he tore a piece from his handkerchief and stuffed
it into the shoe to hold the pearl in place. Inga's shoes were long and
pointed, as were all the shoes worn in Pingaree, and the points curled
upward, so that there was quite a vacant space beyond the place where
the boy's toes reached when the shoe was upon his foot.
After he had put on the shoe and laced it up he opened the bag and took
out the Pink Pearl. "This will protect me from danger," said Inga, and
removing the shoe from his left foot he carefully placed the pearl in
the hollow toe. This, also, he secured in place by means of a strip torn
from his handkerchief.
Having put on the second shoe and laced it up, the boy drew from the
silken bag the third pearl--that which was pure white--and holding it to
his ear he asked:
"Will you advise me what to do, in this my hour of misfortune?"
Clearly the small voice of the pearl made answer:
"I advise you to go to the Islands of Regos and Coregos, where you may
liberate your parents from slavery."
"How could I do that?" exclaimed Prince Inga, amazed at receiving such
advice.
"To-night," spoke the voice of the pearl, "there will be a storm, and in
the morning a boat will strand upon the shore. Take this boat and row to
Regos and Coregos."
"How can I, a weak boy, pull the boat so far?" he inquired, doubting the
possibility.
"The Blue Pearl will give you strength," was the reply.