Rinkitink in Oz
"When I make a fool of myself, Bilbil, I'm a goat," replied Rinkitink.
"Not so," insisted Bilbil. "Nothing could make you a member of my
superior race."
"Superior? Why, Bilbil, a goat is but a beast, while I am a King!"
"I claim that superiority lies in intelligence," said the goat.
Rinkitink paid no attention to this remark, but turning to Inga he said:
"We may as well get back to the shore, for the boat is too heavy to row
to Gilgad or anywhere else. Indeed, it will be hard for us to reach land
again."
"Let me take the oars," suggested Inga. "You must not forget our
bargain."
"No, indeed," answered Rinkitink. "If you can row us to Regos, or to any
other place, I will go with you without protest."
So the King took Inga's place in the stern of the boat and the boy
grasped the oars and commenced to row. And now, to the great wonder of
Rinkitink--and even to Inga's surprise--the oars became light as
feathers as soon as the Prince took hold of them. In an instant the boat
began to glide rapidly through the water and, seeing this, the boy
turned its prow toward the north. He did not know exactly where Regos
and Coregos were located, but he did know that the islands lay to the
north of Pingaree, so he decided to trust to luck and the guidance of
the pearls to carry him to them.
Gradually the Island of Pingaree became smaller to their view as the
boat sped onward, until at the end of an hour they had lost sight of it
altogether and were wholly surrounded by the purple waters of the
Nonestic Ocean.
Prince Inga did not tire from the labor of rowing; indeed, it seemed to
him no labor at all. Once he stopped long enough to place the poles of
the canopy in the holes that had been made for them, in the edges of the
boat, and to spread the canopy of silver over the poles, for Rinkitink
had complained of the sun's heat. But the canopy shut out the hot rays
and rendered the interior of the boat cool and pleasant.
"This is a glorious ride!" cried Rinkitink, as he lay back in the shade.
"I find it a decided relief to be away from that dismal island of
Pingaree."
"It may be a relief for a short time," said Bilbil, "but you are going
to the land of your enemies, who will probably stick your fat body full
of spears and arrows."
"Oh, I hope not!" exclaimed Inga, distressed at the thought.
"Never mind," said the King calmly, "a man can die but once, you know,
and when the enemy kills me I shall beg him to kill Bilbil, also, that
we may remain together in death as in life."
"They may be cannibals, in which case they will roast and eat us,"
suggested Bilbil, who wished to terrify his master.
"Who knows?" answered Rinkitink, with a shudder. "But cheer up, Bilbil;
they may not kill us after all, or even capture us; so let us not borrow
trouble. Do not look so cross, my sprightly quadruped, and I will sing
to amuse you."
"Your song would make me more cross than ever," grumbled the goat.
"Quite impossible, dear Bilbil. You couldn't be more surly if you tried.
So here is a famous song for you."
While the boy rowed steadily on and the boat rushed fast over the water,
the jolly King, who never could be sad or serious for many minutes at a
time, lay back on his embroidered cushions and sang as follows:
"A merry maiden went to sea--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
She sat upon the Captain's knee
And looked around the sea to see
What she could see, but she couldn't see me--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!"
"How do you like that, Bilbil?"
"I don't like it," complained the goat. "It reminds me of the alligator
that tried to whistle."
"Did he succeed, Bilbil?" asked the King.
"He whistled as well as you sing."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, heek, keek, eek!" chuckled the King. "He must have
whistled most exquisitely, eh, my friend?"
"I am not your friend," returned the goat, wagging his ears in a surly
manner.
"I am yours, however," was the King's cheery reply; "and to prove it
I'll sing you another verse."
"Don't, I beg of you!"
But the King sang as follows:
"The wind blew off the maiden's shoe--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
And the shoe flew high to the sky so blue
And the maiden knew 'twas a new shoe, too;
But she couldn't pursue the shoe, 'tis true--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!"
"Isn't that sweet, my pretty goat?"
"Sweet, do you ask?" retorted Bilbil. "I consider it as sweet as candy
made from mustard and vinegar."
"But not as sweet as your disposition, I admit. Ah, Bilbil, your temper
would put honey itself to shame."
"Do not quarrel, I beg of you," pleaded Inga. "Are we not sad enough
already?"
"But this is a jolly quarrel," said the King, "and it is the way Bilbil
and I often amuse ourselves. Listen, now, to the last verse of all:
The maid who shied her shoe now cried--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!
Her tears were fried for the Captain's bride
Who ate with pride her sobs, beside,
And gently sighed 'I'm satisfied'--
Sing too-ral-oo-ral-i-do!"
"Worse and worse!" grumbled Bilbil, with much scorn. "I am glad that is
the last verse, for another of the same kind might cause me to faint."
"I fear you have no ear for music," said the King.
"I have heard no music, as yet," declared the goat. "You must have a
strong imagination, King Rinkitink, if you consider your songs music. Do
you remember the story of the bear that hired out for a nursemaid?"
"I do not recall it just now," said Rinkitink, with a wink at Inga.
"Well, the bear tried to sing a lullaby to put the baby to sleep."
"And then?" said the King.
"The bear was highly pleased with its own voice, but the baby was nearly
frightened to death."
"Heh, heh, heh, heh, whoo, hoo, hoo! You are a merry rogue, Bilbil,"
laughed the King; "a merry rogue in spite of your gloomy features.
However, if I have not amused you, I have at least pleased myself, for I
am exceedingly fond of a good song. So let us say no more about it."
All this time the boy Prince was rowing the boat. He was not in the
least tired, for the oars he held seemed to move of their own accord. He
paid little heed to the conversation of Rinkitink and the goat, but
busied his thoughts with plans of what he should do when he reached the
islands of Regos and Coregos and confronted his enemies. When the others
finally became silent, Inga inquired:
"Can you fight, King Rinkitink?"
"I have never tried," was the answer. "In time of danger I have found
it much easier to run away than to face the foe."
"But _could_ you fight?" asked the boy.
"I might try, if there was no chance to escape by running. Have you a
proper weapon for me to fight with?"
"I have no weapon at all," confessed Inga.
"Then let us use argument and persuasion instead of fighting. For
instance, if we could persuade the warriors of Regos to lie down, and
let me step on them, they would be crushed with ease."
Prince Inga had expected little support from the King, so he was not
discouraged by this answer. After all, he reflected, a conquest by
battle would be out of the question, yet the White Pearl would not have
advised him to go to Regos and Coregos had the mission been a hopeless
one. It seemed to him, on further reflection, that he must rely upon
circumstances to determine his actions when he reached the islands of
the barbarians.
By this time Inga felt perfect confidence in the Magic Pearls. It was
the White Pearl that had given him the boat, and the Blue Pearl that had
given him strength to row it. He believed that the Pink Pearl would
protect him from any danger that might arise; so his anxiety was not
for himself, but for his companions. King Rinkitink and the goat had no
magic to protect them, so Inga resolved to do all in his power to keep
them from harm.
For three days and three nights the boat with the silver lining sped
swiftly over the ocean. On the morning of the fourth day, so quickly had
they traveled, Inga saw before him the shores of the two great islands
of Regos and Coregos.
"The pearls have guided me aright!" he whispered to himself. "Now, if I
am wise, and cautious, and brave, I believe I shall be able to rescue my
father and mother and my people."
The Twin Islands
CHAPTER 7
The Island of Regos was ten miles wide and forty miles long and it was
ruled by a big and powerful King named Gos. Near to the shores were
green and fertile fields, but farther back from the sea were rugged
hills and mountains, so rocky that nothing would grow there. But in
these mountains were mines of gold and silver, which the slaves of the
King were forced to work, being confined in dark underground passages
for that purpose. In the course of time huge caverns had been hollowed
out by the slaves, in which they lived and slept, never seeing the light
of day. Cruel overseers with whips stood over these poor people, who had
been captured in many countries by the raiding parties of King Gos, and
the overseers were quite willing to lash the slaves with their whips if
they faltered a moment in their work.
Between the green shores and the mountains were forests of thick,
tangled trees, between which narrow paths had been cut to lead up to the
caves of the mines. It was on the level green meadows, not far from the
ocean, that the great City of Regos had been built, wherein was located
the palace of the King. This city was inhabited by thousands of the
fierce warriors of Gos, who frequently took to their boats and spread
over the sea to the neighboring islands to conquer and pillage, as they
had done at Pingaree. When they were not absent on one of these
expeditions, the City of Regos swarmed with them and so became a
dangerous place for any peaceful person to live in, for the warriors
were as lawless as their King.
The Island of Coregos lay close beside the Island of Regos; so close,
indeed, that one might have thrown a stone from one shore to another.
But Coregos was only half the size of Regos and instead of being
mountainous it was a rich and pleasant country, covered with fields of
grain. The fields of Coregos furnished food for the warriors and
citizens of both countries, while the mines of Regos made them all rich.
Coregos was ruled by Queen Cor, who was wedded to King Gos; but so stern
and cruel was the nature of this Queen that the people could not decide
which of their sovereigns they dreaded most.
Queen Cor lived in her own City of Coregos, which lay on that side of
her island facing Regos, and her slaves, who were mostly women, were
made to plow the land and to plant and harvest the grain.
From Regos to Coregos stretched a bridge of boats, set close together,
with planks laid across their edges for people to walk upon. In this way
it was easy to pass from one island to the other and in times of danger
the bridge could be quickly removed.
The native inhabitants of Regos and Coregos consisted of the warriors,
who did nothing but fight and ravage, and the trembling servants who
waited on them. King Gos and Queen Cor were at war with all the rest of
the world. Other islanders hated and feared them, for their slaves were
badly treated and absolutely no mercy was shown to the weak or ill.
When the boats that had gone to Pingaree returned loaded with rich
plunder and a host of captives, there was much rejoicing in Regos and
Coregos and the King and Queen gave a fine feast to the warriors who had
accomplished so great a conquest. This feast was set for the warriors in
the grounds of King Gos's palace, while with them in the great throne
room all the captains and leaders of the fighting men were assembled
with King Gos and Queen Cor, who had come from her island to attend the