The Golden Pear
The great silver bells in the sapphire tower had tolled ten. It was night time, and still Cheeriobed and his councillors had thought of no plan to appease Quiberon. In gloomy knots the Ozure Islanders gathered to discuss the almost certain destruction that threatened their Kingdom. In the castle Toddledy and the King pored over ancient books and maps trying to devise some way out of their difficulties, but as Quiberon would allow no one to leave the islands how were they to search for a mortal maiden?
"And even if we did find one," sighed Cheeriobed wearily, "I would never turn her over to a monster like that. We who are magically constructed can be destroyed without pain, but a mortal can be hurt and no one shall ever suffer to save me or my Kingdom."
"Then we must perish, I suppose." Pushing his specs high up on his forehead, Toddledy looked resignedly at the King. "It might be quite restful to be destroyed," observed the poor Prime Moneyster, trying to look on the cheerful side of things. But Umtillio rose with a protesting screech and striking both fiddles at once sobbed dolefully.
"Oh no, no, no! Let us go, go, go, far away!Cheerio Oh, Oh! You don't know, know, know, what you say!To bededestroyed with life half enjoyed is too bad,Can't you see, see, see, it would be, be, be, much too sad?"
"Oh no, no, no! Let us go, go, go, far away!Cheerio Oh, Oh! You don't know, know, know, what you say!To bededestroyed with life half enjoyed is too bad,Can't you see, see, see, it would be, be, be, much too sad?"
"Oh no, no, no! Let us go, go, go, far away!Cheerio Oh, Oh! You don't know, know, know, what you say!To bededestroyed with life half enjoyed is too bad,Can't you see, see, see, it would be, be, be, much too sad?"
"Oh no, no, no! Let us go, go, go, far away!
Cheerio Oh, Oh! You don't know, know, know, what you say!
To bededestroyed with life half enjoyed is too bad,
Can't you see, see, see, it would be, be, be, much too sad?"
"Well, we still have two days," mumbled the King unhappily. "Maybe something will turn up."
"Nothing will ever turn up here but your Majesty's nose," sniffed Akbad, who had been listening to the conversation with growing impatience. "You may stay here and be destroyed if you like, but I, I, Akbad, the Soothsayer, shall think of something better!"
Folding his robes haughtily about him, Akbad swept from the throne room. In his own high tower he flung the sapphire casements wide and leaning both elbows on the sill, stared moodily out into the night.
"Surely it is better for one mortal to be destroyed than a whole Kingdom," reflected Akbad. "The King's a soft hearted old Joffywax. The way to solve a problem is to begin at the beginning and go on to the conclusion. Quiberon desires a mortal maiden and a mortal maiden he shall have. Now where am I to find a mortal maiden?" Striding to the book-case he pulled out a history of Oz which opened almost instantly to the picture of three little girls sitting in a hammock.
Dorothy at Home in Oz
Dorothy at Home in Oz
Dorothy at Home in Oz
"Dorothy, Betsy and Trot," muttered the Soothsayer, reading the names under the picture. "These little girls, though native Americans, now live in the Emerald City of Oz and are loved and honored by the entire populace." Akbad paused thoughtfully after reading this sentence, then tearing out the page stuffed the picture into his sleeve. "One will be quite enough," he remarked, with a little shrug of his shoulders, "and all that I have to do now is to reach the Emerald City." Standing before a huge map of Oz that covered one side of the wall, Akbad traced with his finger a line between Sapphire City and the capital. Not a great distance, to be sure, but to the old Soothsayer who had never been away from the Ozure Isles in his entire life, it seemed a long and perilous journey. Sinking into an easy chair he began tugging at his whiskers and pulling his long nose and soon a perfectly splendid plan popped into his turbaned head.
"The pear!" puffed Akbad delightedly. "I will pick the golden pear and save myself and the entire Kingdom." Jerking out his magic descriptionary, a booklet all soothsayers carry in their pockets, Akbad turned to the proper page though he knew almost by heart what it would say of the golden pear. "In the gardens of the King grows an emerald tree, bearing always one golden fruit. This fruit shall be plucked by the Prince of the realm in times of extreme danger or peril. It will immediately transport him wheresoever he desires to go."
"If it transports a Prince it will surely carry a soothsayer," decided Akbad. "If the King is too stupid to bid Philador to pick the pear I myself shall pluck it from the bough and save the people from destruction."
The King, as it happened, was at that very moment thinking of the golden fruit. "If nothing turns up to-morrow," yawned his Majesty, blowing out the tall candle beside his bed, "I shall command Philador to pick the magic pear. I have lived a long time and do not mind being destroyed, but he is too young to suffer destruction." Comforted by the thought that the little Prince, at least, would escape so hard a fate, Cheeriobed sank down among his silk cushions and was soon fast asleep. His slumbers would not have been so calm nor his dreams so untroubled had he seen the two figures that presently stepped out of his castle. One passed from the Eastern Gateway into the gardens, the other from the Western Doorway and, after looking all around to see that he was not observed, hastened down to the beach.
In the moonlight the radiant capital of Cheeriobed floated like a City of dreams in a silver mist. Looking over his shoulder at its sparkling turrets and spires, Philador wondered if he should ever have the courage to leave so lovely a spot. Then catching a glimpse of the horrid head of Quiberon, rising suddenly above the waters of Orizon, the little Prince shuddered and gathering his cloak about him hurried down to the rocks. He wondered if the blue gull had kept her promise and looked anxiously up and down the deserted strand. There was no one in sight and dejectedly he was about to return to the castle when a low whistle from a nearby cave came floating up to him.
Running down and into the cave, Philador stopped short in perfect astonishment. Crouched upon the rocks and regarding him with bright interested eyes was a giant blue gull twice as large as Philador himself. On its head, the feathers grew into a circlet that rested like a crown upon its brow.
"You wish to leave the Ozure Isle?" asked the gull quietly. "Climb upon my back, then; you have been kind and gentle to my subjects, therefore I, the grand Mo-gull, King of all the land and sea birds, will carry you wheresoever you wish to go."
For a moment Philador was too startled to move. Then as a deep roar from the throat of Quiberon came reverberating through the grotto, he sprang upon the gull's back and clasping his arms around its neck whispered hoarsely, "Carry me to the Good Witch of the North!"
With scarcely a flutter, the great gull rose, mounting higher and higher, till the Ozure Isles were no more than sparkling dots on the waters of the Lake. Akbad, standing under the magic tree in the King's garden, saw a great shadow cross the moon. Brushing his hand uneasily across his eyes he looked again, but this time the shadow had gone. Concluding that it had been but a dark cloud, the Soothsayer drew a deep breath and, leaning forward, broke the golden pear from the sacred bough. Now Akbad hardly knew what to expect, but the thing that did happen exceeded his wildest imaginings. The pear in his hands grew larger and larger, bursting finally with such a golden splutter and glare he was almost blinded. Stars! It was a pair of wings!
Thoroughly frightened, the soothsayer fell back against the tree, putting up both hands to beat off the whirling pinions. But it was no use. The great wings swooped down upon him and next moment had fastened themselves to his shoulders. His heart, as they lifted him into the air, dropped so suddenly into his boots both boots fell off. Motionless and helpless and just above the emerald tree he hung suspended, trembling so violently his turban came unwound and fluttered like a banner in the evening breeze. For about as long as you could count ten Akbad dangled limply between the golden wings. Then recovering a little of his courage he moistened his lips and muttered weakly.
"Take me to the Emerald City of Oz." Next instant, another shadow had crossed the moon and Akbad, like some strange ungainly bird, was being borne swiftly and silently towards the South.
The Vanished Queen of the Ozure Isles
The Vanished Queen of the Ozure Isles
The Vanished Queen of the Ozure Isles