Inga was a little embarrassed how to reply to these arguments, which he knew King Rinkitink considered were wise; so, after a period of thought, he said:
“I will make a bargain with Your Majesty, for I do not wish to fail in respect to so worthy a man and so great a King as yourself. This boat is mine, as I have said, and in my father’s absence you have become my guest; therefore I claim that I am entitled to some consideration, as well as you.”
“No doubt of it,” agreed Rinkitink. “What is the bargain you propose, Inga?”
“Let us both get into the boat, and you shall first try to row us to Gilgad. If you succeed, I will accompany you right willingly; but should you fail, I will then row the boat to Regos, and you must come with me without further protest.”
“A fair and just bargain!” cried the King, highly pleased. “Yet, although I am a man of mighty deeds, I do not relish the prospect of rowing so big a boat all the way to Gilgad. But I will do my best and abide by the result.”
The matter being thus peaceably settled, they prepared to embark. A further supply of fruits was placed in the boat and Inga also raked up a quantity of the delicious oysters that abounded on the coast of Pingaree but which he had before been unable to reach for lack of a boat. This was done at the suggestion of the ever-hungry Rinkitink, and when the oysters had been stowed in their shells behind the water barrel and a plentiful supply of grass brought aboard for Bilbil, they decided they were ready to start on their voyage.
It proved no easy task to get Bilbil into the boat, for he was a remarkably clumsy goat and once, when Rinkitink gave him a push, he tumbled into the water and nearly drowned before they could get him out again. But there was no thought of leaving the quaint animal behind. His power of speech made him seem almost human in the eyes of the boy, and the fat King was so accustomed to his surly companion that nothing could have induced him to part with him. Finally Bilbil fell sprawling into the bottom of the boat, and Inga helped him to get to the front end, where there was enough space for him to lie down.
Rinkitink now took his seat in the silver-lined craft and the boy came last, pushing off the boat as he sprang aboard, so that it floated freely upon the water.
“Well, here we go for Gilgad!” exclaimed the King, picking up the oars and placing them in the row-locks. Then he began to row as hard as he could, singing at the same time an odd sort of a song that ran like this
“The way to Gilgad isn’t bad
For a stout old King and a brave young lad, For a cross old goat with a dripping coat, And a silver boat in which to float.
So our hearts are merry, light and glad As we speed away to fair Gilgad!”
“Don’t, Rinkitink; please don’t! It makes me seasick,” growled Bilbil.
Rinkitink stopped rowing, for by this time he was all out of breath and his round face was covered with big drops of perspiration. And when he looked over his shoulder he found to his dismay that the boat had scarcely moved a foot from its former position.
Inga said nothing and appeared not to notice the King’s failure. So now Rinkitink, with a serious look on his fat, red face, took off his purple robe and rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and tried again.
However, he succeeded no better than before and when he heard Bilbil give a gruff laugh and saw a smile upon the boy Prince’s face, Rinkitink suddenly dropped the oars and began shouting with laughter at his own defeat. As he wiped his brow with a yellow silk handkerchief he sang in a merry voice:
“A sailor bold am I, I hold,
But boldness will not row a boat.
So I confess I’m in distress
And just as useless as the goat.”
“Please leave me out of your verses,” said Bilbil with a snort of anger.
“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 at 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 to-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, heb, 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.”
Chapter Seven
The Twin Islands
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 Cos, 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 ceremony. Then all the goods that had been stolen from the King of Pingaree were divided according to rank, the King and Queen taking half, the captains a quarter, and the rest being divided amongst the warriors.
The day following the feast King Gos sent King Kitticut and all the men of Pingaree to work in his mines under the mountains, having first chained them together so they could not escape. The gentle Queen of Pingaree and all her women, together with the captured children, were given to Queen Cor, who set them to work in her grain fields.
Then the rulers and warriors of these dreadful islands thought they had done forever with Pingaree. Despoiled of all its wealth, its houses torn down, its boats captured and all its people enslaved, what likelihood was there that they might ever again hear of the desolated island? So the people of Regos and Coregos were surprised and puzzled when one morning they observed approaching their shores from the direction of the south a black boat containing a boy, a fat man and a goat. The warriors asked one another who these could be, and where they had come from? No one ever came to those islands of their own accord, that was certain.
Prince Inga guided his boat to the south end of the Island of Regos, which was the landing place nearest to the city, and when the warriors saw this action they went down to the shore to meet him, being led by a big captain named Buzzub.
“Those people surely mean us no good,” said Rinkitink uneasily to the boy. “Without doubt they intend to capture us and make us their slaves.”
“Do not fear, sir,” answered Inga, in a calm voice. “Stay quietly in the boat with Bilbil until I have spoken with these men.”
He stopped the boat a dozen feet from the shore, and standing up in his place made a grave bow to the multitude confronting him. Said the big Captain Buzzub in a gruff voice:
“Well, little one, who may you be? And how dare you come, uninvited and all alone, to the Island of Regos?”
“I am Inga, Prince of Pingaree,” returned the boy, “and I have come here to free my parents and my people, whom you have wrongfully enslaved.”
When they heard this bold speech a mighty laugh arose from the band of warriors, and when it had subsided the captain said:
“You love to jest, my baby Prince, and the joke is fairly good. But why did you willingly thrust your head into the lion’s mouth? When you were free, why did you not stay free? We did not know we had left a single person in Pingaree! But since you managed to escape us then, it is really kind of you to come here of your own free will, to be our slave. Who is the funny fat person with you?”
“It is His Majesty, King Rinkitink, of the great City of Gilgad. He has accompanied me to see that you render full restitution for all you have stolen from Pingaree.”
“Better yet!” laughed Buzzub. “He will make a fine slave for Queen Cor, who loves to tickle fat men, and see them jump.”
King Rinkitink was filled with horror when he heard this, but the Prince answered as boldly as before, saying:
“We are not to be frightened by bluster, believe me; nor are we so weak as you imagine. We have magic powers so great and terrible that no host of warriors can possibly withstand us, and therefore I call upon you to surrender your city and your island to us, before we crush you with our mighty powers.”
The boy spoke very gravely and earnestly, but his words only aroused another shout of laughter. So while the men of Regos were laughing Inga drove the boat we’ll up onto the sandy beach and leaped out. He also helped Rinkitink out, and when the goat had unaided sprung to the sands, the King got upon Bilbil’s back, trembling a little internally, but striving to look as brave as possible.
There was a bunch of coarse hair between the goat’s ears, and this Inga clutched firmly in his left hand. The boy knew the Pink Pearl would protect not only himself, but all whom he touched, from any harm, and as Rinkitink was astride the goat and Inga had his hand upon the animal, the three could not be injured by anything the warriors could do. But Captain Buzzub did not know this, and the little group of three seemed so weak and ridiculous that he believed their capture would be easy. So he turned to his men and with a wave of his hand said:
“Seize the intruders!”
Instantly two or three of the warriors stepped forward to obey, but to their amazement they could not reach any of the three; their hands were arrested as if by an invisible wall of iron. Without paying any attention to these attempts at capture, Inga advanced slowly and the goat kept pace with him. And when Rinkitink saw that he was safe from harm he gave one of his big, merry laughs, and it startled the warriors and made them nervous. Captain Buzzub’s eyes grew big with surprise as the three steadily advanced and forced his men backward; nor was he free from terror himself at the magic that protected these strange visitors. As for the warriors, they presently became terror-stricken and fled in a panic up the slope toward the city, and Buzzub was obliged to chase after them and shout threats of punishment before he could halt them and form them into a line of battle.
All the men of Regos bore spears and bows-and-arrows, and some of the officers had swords and battle-axes; so Buzzub ordered them to stand their ground and shoot and slay the strangers as they approached. This they tried to do. Inga being in advance, the warriors sent a flight of sharp arrows straight at the boy’s breast, while others cast their long spears at him.
It seemed to Rinkitink that the little Prince must surely perish as he stood facing this hail of murderous missiles; but the power of the Pink Pearl did not desert him, and when the arrows and spears had reached to within an inch of his body they bounded back again and fell harmlessly at his feet. Nor were Rinkitink or Bilbil injured in the least, although they stood close beside Inga.
Buzzub stood for a moment looking upon the boy in silent wonder. Then, recovering himself, he shouted in a loud voice:
“Once again! All together, my men. No one shall ever defy our might and live!”
Again a flight of arrows and spears sped toward the three, and since many more of the warriors of Regos had by this time joined their fellows, the air was for a moment darkened by the deadly shafts. But again all fell harmless before the power of the Pink Pearl, and Bilbil, who had been growing very angry at the attempts to injure him and his party, suddenly made a bolt forward, casting off Inga’s hold, and butted into the line of warriors, who were standing amazed at their failure to conquer.
Taken by surprise at the goat’s attack, a dozen big warriors tumbled in a heap, yelling with fear, and their comrades, not knowing what had happened but imagining that their foes were attacking them, turned about and ran to the city as hard as they could go. Bilbil, still angry, had just time to catch the big captain as he turned to follow his men, and Buzzub first sprawled headlong upon the ground, then rolled over two or three times, and finally jumped up and ran yelling after his defeated warriors. This butting on the part of the goat was very hard upon King Rinkitink, who nearly fell off Bilbil’s back at the shock of encounter; but the little fat King wound his arms around the goat’s neck and shut his eyes and clung on with all his might. It was not until he heard Inga say triumphantly, “We have won the fight without striking a blow!” that Rinkitink dared open his eyes again. Then he saw the warriors rushing into the City of Regos and barring the heavy gates, and he was very much relieved at the sight.
“Without striking a blow!” said Bilbil indignantly. “That is not quite true, Prince Inga. You did not fight, I admit, but I struck a couple of times to good purpose, and I claim to have conquered the cowardly warriors unaided.”
“You and I together, Bilbil,” said Rinkitink mildly. “But the next time you make a charge, please warn me in time, so that I may dismount and give you all the credit for the attack.”
There being no one now to oppose their advance, the three walked to the gates of the city, which had been closed against them. The gates were of iron and heavily barred, and upon the top of the high walls of the city a host of the warriors now appeared armed with arrows and spears and other weapons. For Buzzub had gone straight to the palace of King Cos and reported his defeat, relating the powerful magic of the boy, the fat King and the goat, and had asked what to do next.
The big captain still trembled with fear, but King Gos did not helieve in magic, and called Buzzub a coward and a weakling. At once the King took command of his men personally, and he ordered the walls manned with warriors and instructed them to shoot to kill if any of the three strangers approached the gates.
Of course, neither Rinkitink nor Bilbil knew how they had been protected from harm and so at first they were inclined to resent the boy’s command that the three must always keep together and touch one another at all times. But when Inga explained that his magic would not otherwise save them from injury, they agreed to obey, for they had now seen enough to convince them that the Prince was really protected by some invisible power.
As they came before the gates another shower of arrows and spears descended upon them, and as before not a single missile touched their bodies. King Gos, who was upon the wall, was greatly amazed and somewhat worried, but he depended upon the strength of his gates and commanded his men to continue shooting until all their weapons were gone.
Inga let them shoot as much as they wished, while he stood before the great gates and examined them carefully.
“Perhaps Bilbil can batter down the gates, suggested Rinkitink.
“No,” replied the goat; “my head is hard, but not harder than iron.”
“Then,” returned the King, “let us stay outside; especially as we can’t get in.”
But Inga was not at all sure they could not get in. The gates opened inward, and three heavy bars were held in place by means of stout staples riveted to the sheets of steel. The boy had been told that the power of the Blue Pearl would enable him to accomplish any feat of strength, and he believed that this was true.
The warriors, under the direction of King Gos, continued to hurl arrows and darts and spears and axes and huge stones upon the invaders, all without avail. The ground below was thickly covered with weapons, yet not one of the three before the gates had been injured in the slightest manner. When everything had been cast that was available and not a single weapon of any sort remained at hand, the amazed warriors saw the boy put his shoulder against the gates and burst asunder the huge staples that held the bars in place. A thousand of their men could not have accomplished this feat, yet the small, slight boy did it with seeming ease. The gates burst open, and Inga advanced into the city street and called upon King Gos to surrender.
But Gos was now as badly frightened as were his warriors. He and his men were accustomed to war and pillage and they had carried terror into many countries, but here was a small boy, a fat man and a goat who could not be injured by all his skill in warfare, his numerous army and thousands of death- dealing weapons. Moreover, they not only defied King Gos’s entire army but they had broken in the huge gates of the city — as easily as if they had been made of paper — and such an exhibition of enormous strength made the wicked King fear for his life. Like all bullies and marauders, Gos was a coward at heart, and now a panic seized him and he turned and fled before the calm advance of Prince Inga of Pingaree. The warriors were like their master, and having thrown all their weapons over the wall and being helpless to oppose the strangers, they all swarmed after Gos, who abandoned his city and crossed the bridge of boats to the Island of Coregos. There was a desperate struggle among these cowardly warriors to get over the bridge, and many were pushed into the water and obliged to swim; but finally every fighting man of Regos had gained the shore of Coregos and then they tore away the bridge of boats and drew them up on their own side, hoping the stretch of open water would prevent the magic invaders from following them.
The humble citizens and serving people of Regos, who had been terrified and abused by the rough warriors all their lives, were not only greatly astonished by this sudden conquest of their masters but greatly delighted. As the King and his army fled to Coregos, the people embraced one another and danced for very joy, and then they turned to see what the conquerors of Regos were like.
Chapter Eight
Rinkitink Makes a Great Mistake
The fat King rode his goat through the streets of the conquered city and the boy Prince walked proudly beside him, while all the people bent their heads humbly to their new masters, whom they were prepared to serve in the same manner they had King Gos.
Not a warrior remained in all Regos to oppose the triumphant three; the bridge of boats had been destroyed; Inga and his companions were free from danger — for a time, at least.
The jolly little King appreciated this fact and rejoiced that he had escaped all injury during the battle. How it had all happened he could not tell, nor even guess, but he was content in being safe and free to take possession of the enemy’s city. So, as they passed through the lines of respectful civilians on their way to the palace, the King tipped his crown back on his bald head and folded his arms and sang in his best voice the following lines:
“Oh, here comes the army of King Rinkitink! It isn’t a big one, perhaps you may think, But it scattered the warriors quicker than wink —
Rink-i-tink, tink-i-tink, tink!
Our Bilbil’s a hero and so is his King; Our foemen have vanished like birds on the wing; I guess that as fighters we’re quite the real thing —
Rink-i-tink, tink-i-tink, tink!”
“Why don’t you give a little credit to Inga?” inquired the goat. “If I remember aright, he did a little of the conquering himself.”
“So he did,” responded the King, “and that’s the reason I’m sounding our own praise, Bilbil. Those who do the least, often shout the loudest and so get the most glory. Inga did so much that there is danger of his becoming more important than we are, and so we’d best say nothing about him.”
When they reached the palace, which was an immense building, furnished throughout in regal splendor, Inga took formal possession and ordered the majordomo to show them the finest rooms the building contained. There were many pleasant apartments, but Rinkitink proposed to Inga that they share one of the largest bedrooms together.
“For,” said he, “we are not sure that old Gos will not return and try to recapture his city, and you must remember that I have no magic to protect me. In any danger, were I alone, I might be easily killed or captured, while if you are by my side you can save me from injury.”
The boy realized the wisdom of this plan, and selected a fine big bedroom on the second floor of the palace, in which he ordered two golden beds placed and prepared for King Rinkitink and himself. Bilbil was given a suite of rooms on the other side of the palace, where servants brought the goat fresh-cut grass to eat and made him a soft bed to lie upon.
That evening the boy Prince and the fat King dined in great state in the lofty-domed dining hall of the palace, where forty servants waited upon them. The royal chef, anxious to win the favor of the conquerors of Regos, prepared his finest and most savory dishes for them, which Rinkitink ate with much appetite and found so delicious that he ordered the royal chef brought into the banquet hall and presented him with a gilt button which the King cut from his own jacket.
“You are welcome to it,” said he to the chef, “because I have eaten so much that I cannot use that lower button at all.”
Rinkitink was mightily pleased to live in a comfortable palace again and to dine at a well spread table. His joy grew every moment, so that he came in time to be as merry and cheery as before Pingaree was despoiled. And, although he had been much frightened during Inga’s defiance of the army of King Gos, he now began to turn the matter into a joke.
“Why, my boy,” said he, “you whipped the big black- bearded King exactly as if he were a schoolboy, even though you used no warlike weapon at all upon him. He was cowed through fear of your magic, and that reminds me to demand from you an explanation. How did you do it, Inga? And where did the wonderful magic come from?”
Perhaps it would have been wise for the Prince to have explained about the magic pearls, but at that moment he was not inclined to do so. Instead, he replied:
“Be patient, Your Majesty. The secret is not my own, so please do not ask me to divulge it. Is it not enough, for the present, that the magic saved you from death to-day?”
“Do not think me ungrateful,” answered the King earnestly. “A million spears fell on me from the wall, and several stones as big as mountains, yet none of them hurt me!”
“The stones were not as big as mountains, sire,” said the Prince with a smile. “They were, indeed, no larger than your head.”
“Are you sure about that?” asked Rinkitink.
“Quite sure, Your Majesty.”
“How deceptive those things are!” sighed the King. “This argument reminds me of the story of Tom Tick, which my father used to tell.”
“I have never heard that story,” Inga answered.
“Well, as he told it, it ran like this:
“When Tom walked out, the sky to spy, A naughty gnat flew in his eye;
But Tom knew not it was a gnat —
He thought, at first, it was a cat.
“And then, it felt so very big,
He thought it surely was a pig
Till, standing still to hear it grunt, He cried: ‘Why, it’s an elephunt!’
“But — when the gnat flew out again
And Tom was free from all his pain, He said: ‘There flew into my eye
A leetle, teenty-tiny fly.'”
“Indeed,” said Inga, laughing, “the gnat was much like your stones that seemed as big as mountains.”
After their dinner they inspected the palace, which was filled with valuable goods stolen by King Gos from many nations. But the day’s events had tired them and they retired early to their big sleeping apartment.
“In the morning,” said the boy to Rinkitink, as he was undressing for bed, “I shall begin the search for my father and mother and the people of Pingaree. And, when they are found and rescued, we will all go home again, and be as happy as we were before.”
They carefully bolted the door of their room, that no one might enter, and then got into their beds, where Rinkitink fell asleep in an instant. The boy lay awake for a while thinking over the day’s adventures, but presently he fell sound asleep also, and so weary was he that nothing disturbed his slumber until he awakened next morning with a ray of sunshine in his eyes, which had crept into the room through the open window by King Rinkitink’s bed.
Resolving to begin the search for his parents without any unnecessary delay, Inga at once got out of bed and began to dress himself, while Rinkitink, in the other bed, was still sleeping peacefully. But when the boy had put on both his stockings and began looking for his shoes, he could find but one of them. The left shoe, that containing the Pink Pearl, was missing.
Filled with anxiety at this discovery, Inga searched through the entire room, looking underneath the beds and divans and chairs and behind the draperies and in the corners and every other possible place a shoe might be. He tried the door, and found it still bolted; so, with growing uneasiness, the boy was forced to admit that the precious shoe was not in the room.
With a throbbing heart he aroused his companion.
“King Rinkitink,” said he, “do you know what has become of my left shoe?”
“Your shoe!” exclaimed the King, giving a wide yawn and rubbing his eyes to get the sleep out of them. “Have you lost a shoe?”
“Yes,” said Inga. “I have searched everywhere in the room, and cannot find it.”
“But why bother me about such a small thing?” inquired Rinkitink. “A shoe is only a shoe, and you can easily get another one. But, stay! Perhaps it was your shoe which I threw at the cat last night.”
“The cat!” cried Inga. “What do you mean?”
“Why, in the night,” explained Rinkitink, sitting up and beginning to dress himself, “I was wakened by the mewing of a cat that sat upon a wall of the palace, just outside my window. As the noise disturbed me, I reached out in the dark and caught up something and threw it at the cat, to frighten the creature away. I did not know what it was that I threw, and I was too sleepy to care; but probably it was your shoe, since it is now missing.”
“Then,” said the boy, in a despairing tone of voice, “your carelessness has ruined me, as well as yourself, King Rinkitink, for in that shoe was concealed the magic power which protected us from danger.”
The King’s face became very serious when he heard this and he uttered a low whistle of surprise and regret.
“Why on earth did you not warn me of this?” he demanded. “And why did you keep such a precious power in an old shoe? And why didn’t you put the shoe under a pillow? You were very wrong, my lad, in not confiding to me, your faithful friend, the secret, for in that case the shoe would not now be lost.”
To all this Inga had no answer. He sat on the side of his bed, with hanging head, utterly disconsolate, and seeing this, Rinkitink had pity for his sorrow.
“Come!” cried the King; “let us go out at once and look for the shoe which I threw at the cat. It must even now be lying in the yard of the palace.”
This suggestion roused the boy to action. He at once threw open the door and in his stocking feet rushed down the staircase, closely followed by Rinkitink. But although they looked on both sides of the palace wall and in every possible crack and corner where a shoe might lodge, they failed to find it.
After a half hour’s careful search the boy said sorrowfully:
“Someone must have passed by, as we slept, and taken the precious shoe, not knowing its value. To us, King Rinkitink, this will be a dreadful misfortune, for we are surrounded by dangers from which we have now no protection. Luckily I have the other shoe left, within which is the magic power that gives me strength; so all is not lost.”
Then he told Rinkitink, in a few words, the secret of the wonderful pearls, and how he had recovered them from the ruins and hidden them in his shoes, and how they had enabled him to drive King Gos and his men from Regos and to capture the city. The King was much astonished, and when the story was concluded he said to Inga:
“What did you do with the other shoe?”
“Why, I left it in our bedroom,” replied the boy.
“Then I advise you to get it at once,” continued Rinkitink, “for we can ill afford to lose the second shoe, as well as the one I threw at the cat.”
“You are right!” cried Inga, and they hastened back to their bedchamber.
On entering the room they found an old woman sweeping and raising a great deal of dust.
“Where is my shoe?” asked the Prince, anxiously.
The old woman stopped sweeping and looked at him in a stupid way, for she was not very intelligent.
“Do you mean the one odd shoe that was lying on the floor when I came in?” she finally asked.
“Yes — yes!” answered the boy. “Where is it? Tell me where it is!”
“Why, I threw it on the dust-heap, outside the back gate,” said she, “for, it being but a single shoe, with no mate, it can be of no use to anyone.”
“Show us the way to the dust-heap — at once!” commanded the boy, sternly, for he was greatly frightened by this new misfortune which threatened him.
The old woman hobbled away and they followed her, constantly urging her to hasten; but when they reached the dust-heap no shoe was to be seen.
“This is terrible!” wailed the young Prince, ready to weep at his loss. “We are now absolutely ruined, and at the mercy of our enemies. Nor shall I be able to liberate my dear father and mother.”
“Well,” replied Rinkitink, leaning against an old barrel and looking quite solemn, “the thing is certainly unlucky, any way we look at it. I suppose someone has passed along here and, seeing the shoe upon the dust-heap, has carried it away. But no one could know the magic power the shoe contains and so will not use it against us. I believe, Inga, we must now depend upon our wits to get us out of the scrape we are in.
With saddened hearts they returned to the palace, and entering a small room where no one could observe them or overhear them, the boy took the White Pearl from its silken bag and held it to his ear, asking:
“What shall I do now?”
“Tell no one of your loss,” answered the Voice of the Pearl. “If your enemies do not know that you are powerless, they will fear you as much as ever. Keep your secret, be patient, and fear not!”
Inga heeded this advice and also warned Rinkitink to say nothing to anyone of the loss of the shoes and the powers they contained. He sent for the shoemaker of King Gos, who soon brought him a new pair of red leather shoes that fitted him quite well. When these had been put upon his feet, the Prince, accompanied by the King, started to walk through the city.
Wherever they went the people bowed low to the conqueror, although a few, remembering Inga’s terrible strength, ran away in fear and trembling. They had been used to severe masters and did not yet know how they would be treated by King Gos’s successor. There being no occasion for the boy to exercise the powers he had displayed the previous day, his present helplessness was not suspected by any of the citizens of Regos, who still considered him a wonderful magician.
Inga did not dare to fight his way to the mines, at present, nor could he try to conquer the Island of Coregos, where his mother was enslaved; so he set about the regulation of the City of Regos, and having established himself with great state in the royal palace he began to govern the people by kindness, having consideration for the most humble.
The King of Regos and his followers sent spies across to the island they had abandoned in their flight, and these spies returned with the news that the terrible boy conqueror was still occupying the city. Therefore none of them ventured to go back to Regos but continued to live upon the neighboring island of Coregos, where they passed the days in fear and trembling and sought to plot and plan ways how they might overcome the Prince of Pingaree and the fat King of Gilgad.
Chapter Nine
A Present for Zella
Now it so happened that on the morning of that same day when the Prince of Pingaree suffered the loss of his priceless shoes, there chanced to pass along the road that wound beside the royal palace a poor charcoal- burner named Nikobob, who was about to return to his home in the forest.
Nikobob carried an ax and a bundle of torches over his shoulder and he walked with his eyes to the ground, being deep in thought as to the strange manner in which the powerful King Gos and his city had been conquered by a boy Prince who had come from Pingaree.
Suddenly the charcoal-burner espied a shoe lying upon the ground, just beyond the high wall of the palace and directly in his path. He picked it up and, seeing it was a pretty shoe, although much too small for his own foot, he put it in his pocket.
Soon after, on turning a corner of the wall, Nikobob came to a dust-heap where, lying amidst a mass of rubbish, was another shoe — the mate to the one he had before found. This also he placed in his pocket, saying to himself:
“I have now a fine pair of shoes for my daughter Zella, who will be much pleased to find I have brought her a present from the city.”
And while the charcoal-burner turned into the forest and trudged along the path toward his home, Inga and Rinkitink were still searching for the missing shoes. Of course, they could not know that Nikobob had found them, nor did the honest man think he had taken anything more than a pair of cast-off shoes which nobody wanted.
Nikobob had several miles to travel through the forest before he could reach the little log cabin where his wife, as well as his little daughter Zella, awaited his return, but he was used to long walks and tramped along the path whistling cheerfully to beguile the time.
Few people, as I said before, ever passed through the dark and tangled forests of Regos, except to go to the mines in the mountain beyond, for many dangerous creatures lurked in the wild jungles, and King Gos never knew, when he sent a messenger to the mines, whether he would reach there safely or not.
The charcoal-burner, however, knew the wild forest well, and especially this part of it lying between the city and his home. It was the favorite haunt of the ferocious beast Choggenmugger, dreaded by every dweller in the Island of Regos. Choggenmugger was so old that everyone thought it must have been there since the world was made, and each year of its life the huge scales that covered its body grew thicker and harder and its jaws grew wider and its teeth grew sharper and its appetite grew more keen than ever.
In former ages there had been many dragons in Regos, but Choggenmugger was so fond of dragons that he had eaten all of them long ago. There had also been great serpents and crocodiles in the forest marshes, but all had gone to feed the hunger of Choggenmugger. The people of Regos knew well there was no use opposing the Great Beast, so when one unfortunately met with it he gave himself up for lost.
All this Nikobob knew well, but fortune had always favored him in his journey through the forest, and although he had at times met many savage beasts and fought them with his sharp ax, he had never to this day encountered the terrible Choggenmugger. Indeed, he was not thinking of the Great Beast at all as he walked along, but suddenly he heard a crashing of broken trees and felt a trembling of the earth and saw the immense jaws of Choggenmugger opening before him. Then Nikobob gave himself up for lost and his heart almost ceased to beat.
He believed there was no way of escape. No one ever dared oppose Choggenmugger. But Nikobob hated to die without showing the monster, in some way, that he was eaten only under protest. So he raised his ax and brought it down upon the red, protruding tongue of the monster — and cut it clean off!
For a moment the charcoal-burner scarcely believed what his eyes saw, for he knew nothing of the pearls he carried in his pocket or the magic power they lent his arm. His success, however, encouraged him to strike again, and this time the huge scaly jaw of Choggenmugger was severed in twain and the beast howled in terrified rage.
Nikobob took off his coat, to give himself more freedom of action, and then he earnestly renewed the attack. But now the ax seemed blunted by the hard scales and made no impression upon them whatever. The creature advanced with glaring, wicked eyes, and Nikobob seized his coat under his arm and turned to flee.
That was foolish, for Choggenmugger could run like the wind. In a moment it overtook the charcoal-burner and snapped its four rows of sharp teeth together. But they did not touch Nikobob, because he still held the coat in his grasp, close to his body, and in the coat pocket were Inga’s shoes, and in the points of the shoes were the magic pearls. Finding himself uninjured, Nikobob put on his coat, again seized his ax, and in a short time had chopped Choggenmugger into many small pieces — a task that proved not only easy but very agreeable.
“I must be the strongest man in all the world!” thought the charcoal-burner, as he proudly resumed his way, “for Choggenmugger has been the terror of Regos since the world began, and I alone have been able to destroy the beast. Yet it is singular’ that never before did I discover how powerful a man I am.”
He met no further adventure and at midday reached a little clearing in the forest where stood his humble cabin.
“Great news! I have great news for you,” he shouted, as his wife and little daughter came to greet him. “King Gos has been conquered by a boy Prince from the far island of Pingaree, and I have this day — unaided — destroyed Choggenmugger by the might of my strong arm.
This was, indeed, great news. They brought Nikobob into the house and set him in an easy chair and made him tell everything he knew about the Prince of Pingaree and the fat King of Gilgad, as well as the details of his wonderful fight with mighty Choggenmugger.
“And now, my daughter,” said the charcoalburner, when all his news had been related for at least the third time, “here is a pretty present I have brought you from the city.”
With this he drew the shoes from the pocket of his coat and handed them to Zella, who gave him a dozen kisses in payment and was much pleased with her gift. The little girl had never worn shoes before, for her parents were too poor to buy her such luxuries, so now the possession of these, which were not much worn, filled the child’s heart with joy. She admired the red leather and the graceful curl of the pointed toes. When she tried them on her feet, they fitted as well as if made for her.
All the afternoon, as she helped her mother with the housework, Zella thought of her pretty shoes. They seemed more important to her than the coming to Regos of the conquering Prince of Pingaree, or even the death of Choggenmugger.
When Zella and her mother were not working in the cabin, cooking or sewing, they often searched the neighboring forest for honey which the wild bees cleverly hid in hollow trees. The day after Nikobob’s return, as they were starting out after honey, Zella decided to put on her new shoes, as they would keep the twigs that covered the ground from hurting her feet. She was used to the twigs, of course, but what is the use of having nice, comfortable shoes, if you do not wear them?
So she danced along, very happily, followed by her mother, and presently they came to a tree in which was a deep hollow. Zella thrust her hand and arm into the space and found that the tree was full of honey, so she began to dig it out with a wooden paddle. Her mother, who held the pail, suddenly cried in warning:
“Look out, Zella; the bees are coming!” and then the good woman ran fast toward the house to escape.
Zella, however, had no more than time to turn her head when a thick swarm of bees surrounded her, angry because they had caught her stealing their honey and intent on stinging the girl as a punishment. She knew her danger and expected to be badly injured by the multitude of stinging bees, but to her surprise the little creatures were unable to fly close enough to her to stick their dart-like stingers into her flesh. They swarmed about her in a dark cloud, and their angry buzzing was terrible to hear, yet the little girl remained unharmed.
When she realized this, Zella was no longer afraid but continued to ladle out the honey until she had secured all that was in the tree. Then she returned to the cabin, where her mother was weeping and bemoaning the fate of her darling child, and the good woman was greatly astonished to find Zella had escaped injury.
Again they went to the woods to search for honey, and although the mother always ran away whenever the bees came near them, Zella paid no attention to the creatures but kept at her work, so that before supper time came the pails were again filled to overflowing with delicious honey.
“With such good fortune as we have had this day,” said her mother, “we shall soon gather enough honey for you to carry to Queen Cor.” For it seems the wicked Queen was very fond of honey and it had been Zella’s custom to go, once every year, to the City of Coregos, to carry the Queen a supply of sweet honey for her table. Usually she had but one pail.
“But now,” said Zella, “I shall be able to carry two pailsful to the Queen, who will, I am sure, give me a good price for it.”
“True,” answered her mother, “and, as the boy Prince may take it into his head to conquer Coregos, as well as Regos, I think it best for you to start on your journey to Queen Cor tomorrow morning. Do you not agree with me, Nikobob?” she added, turning to her husband, the charcoal-burner, who was eating his supper.
“I agree with you,” he replied. “If Zella must go to the City of Coregos, she may as well start to-morrow morning.”
Chapter Ten
The Cunning of Queen Cor
You may be sure the Queen of Coregos was not well pleased to have King Gos and all his warriors living in her city after they had fled from their own. They were savage natured and quarrelsome men at all times, and their tempers had not improved since their conquest by the Prince of Pingaree. Moreover, they were eating up Queen Cor’s provisions and crowding the houses of her own people, who grumbled and complained until their Queen was heartily tired.
“Shame on you!” she said to her husband, King Gos, “to be driven out of your city by a boy, a roly-poly King and a billy goat! Why do you not go back and fight them?”
“No human can fight against the powers of magic,” returned the King in a surly voice. “That boy is either a fairy or under the protection of fairies. We escaped with our lives only because we were quick to run away; but, should we return to Regos, the same terrible power that burst open the city gates would crush us all to atoms.”
“Bah! you are a coward,” cried the Queen, tauntingly.
“I am not a coward,” said the big King. “I have killed in battle scores of my enemies; by the might of my sword and my good right arm I have conquered many nations; all my life people have feared me. But no one would dare face the tremendous power of the Prince of Pingaree, boy though he is. It would not be courage, it would be folly, to attempt it.”
“Then meet his power with cunning,” suggested the Queen. “Take my advice, and steal over to Regos at night, when it is dark, and capture or destroy the boy while he sleeps.”
“No weapon can touch his body,” was the answer. “He bears a charmed life and cannot be injured.”
“Does the fat King possess magic powers, or the goat?” inquired Cor.
“I think not,” said Gos. “We could not injure them, indeed, any more than we could the boy, but they did not seem to have any unusual strength, although the goat’s head is harder than a battering-ram.”
“Well,” mused the Queen, “there is surely some way to conquer that slight boy. If you are afraid to undertake the job, I shall go myself. By some stratagem I shall manage to make him my prisoner. He will not dare to defy a Queen, and no magic can stand against a woman’s cunning.”
“Go ahead, if you like,” replied the King, with an evil grin, “and if you are hung up by the thumbs or cast into a dungeon, it will serve you right for thinking you can succeed where a skilled warrior dares not make the attempt.”
“I’m not afraid,” answered the Queen. “It is only soldiers and bullies who are cowards.”
In spite of this assertion, Queen Cor was not so brave as she was cunning. For several days she thought over this plan and that, and tried to decide which was most likely to succeed. She had never seen the boy Prince but had heard so many tales of him from the defeated warriors, and especially from Captain Buzzub, that she had learned to respect his power.
Spurred on by the knowledge that she would never get rid of her unwelcome guests until Prince Inga was overcome and Regos regained for King Gos, the Queen of Coregos finally decided to trust to luck and her native wit to defeat a simple-minded boy, however powerful he might be. Inga could not suspect what she was going to do, because she did not know herself. She intended to act boldly and trust to chance to win.
It is evident that had the cunning Queen known that Inga had lost all his magic, she would not have devoted so much time to the simple matter of capturing him, but like all others she was impressed by the marvelous exhibition of power he had shown in capturing Regos, and had no reason to believe the boy was less powerful now.
One morning Queen Cor boldly entered a boat, and, taking four men with her as an escort and bodyguard, was rowed across the narrow channel to Regos. Prince Inga was sitting in the palace playing checkers with King Rinkitink when a servant came to him, saying that Queen Cor had arrived and desired an audience with him.
With many misgivings lest the wicked Queen discover that he had now lost his magic powers, the boy ordered her to be admitted, and she soon entered the room and bowed low before him, in mock respect.
Cor was a big woman, almost as tall as King Gos. She had flashing black eyes and the dark complexion you see on gypsies. Her temper, when irritated, was something dreadful, and her face wore an evil expression which she tried to cover by smiling sweetly — often when she meant the most mischief.
“I have come,” said she in a low voice, “to render homage to the noble Prince of Pingaree. I am told that Your Highness is the strongest person in the world, and invincible in battle, and therefore I wish you to become my friend, rather than my enemy.”
Now Inga did not know how to reply to this speech. He disliked the appearance of the woman and was afraid of her and he was unused to deception and did not know how to mask his real feelings. So he took time to think over his answer, which he finally made in these words:
“I have no quarrel with Your Majesty, and my only reason for coming here is to liberate my father and mother, and my people, whom you and your husband have made your slaves, and to recover the goods King Gos has plundered from the Island of Pingaree. This I hope soon to accomplish, and if you really wish to be my friend, you can assist me greatly.”
While he was speaking Queen Cor had been studying the boy’s face stealthily, from the corners of her eyes, and she said to herself: “He is so small and innocent that I believe I can capture him alone, and with ease. He does not seem very terrible and I suspect that King Gos and his warriors were frightened at nothing.”
Then, aloud, she said to Inga:
“I wish to invite you, mighty Prince, and your friend, the great King of Gilgad, to visit my poor palace at Coregos, where all my people shall do you honor. Will you come?”
“At present,” replied Inga, uneasily, “I must refuse your kind invitation.”
“There will be feasting, and dancing girls, and games and fireworks,” said the Queen, speaking as if eager to entice him and at each word coming a step nearer to where he stood.
“I could not enjoy them while my poor parents are slaves,” said the boy, sadly.
“Are you sure of that?” asked Queen Cor, and by that time she was close beside Inga. Suddenly she leaned forward and threw both of her long arms around Inga’s body, holding him in a grasp that was like a vise.
Now Rinkitink sprang forward to rescue his friend, but Cor kicked out viciously with her foot and struck the King squarely on his stomach — a very tender place to be kicked, especially if one is fat. Then, still hugging Inga tightly, the Queen called aloud:
“I’ve got him! Bring in the ropes.”
Instantly the four men she had brought with her sprang into the room and bound the boy hand and foot. Next they seized Rinkitink, who was still rubbing his stomach, and bound him likewise.
With a laugh of wicked triumph, Queen Cor now led her captives down to the boat and returned with them to Coregos.
Great was the astonishment of King Gos and his warriors when they saw that the mighty Prince of Pingaree, who had put them all to flight, had been captured by a woman. Cowards as they were, they now crowded around the boy and jeered at him, and some of them would have struck him had not the Queen cried out:
“Hands off! He is my prisoner, remember not yours.”
“Well, Cor, what are you going to do with him?” inquired King Gos.
“I shall make him my slave, that he may amuse my idle hours. For he is a pretty boy, and gentle, although he did frighten all of you big warriors so terribly.”
The King scowled at this speech, not liking to be ridiculed, but he said nothing more. He and his men returned that same day to Regos, after restoring the bridge of boats. And they held a wild carnival of rejoicing, both in the King’s palace and in the city, although the poor people of Regos who were not warriors were all sorry that the kind young Prince had been captured by his enemies and could rule them no longer.
When her unwelcome guests had all gone back to Regos and the Queen was alone in her palace, she ordered Inga and Rinkitink brought before her and their bonds removed. They came sadly enough, knowing they were in serious straits and at the mercy of a cruel mistress. Inga had taken counsel of the White Pearl, which had advised him to bear up bravely under his misfortune, promising a change for the better very soon. With this promise to comfort him, Inga faced the Queen with a dignified bearing that indicated both pride and courage.
“Well, youngster,” said she, in a cheerful tone because she was pleased with her success, “you played a clever trick on my poor husband and frightened him badly, but for that prank I am inclined to forgive you. Hereafter I intend you to be my page, which means that you must fetch and carry for me at my will. And let me advise you to obey my every whim without question or delay, for when I am angry I become ugly, and when I am ugly someone is sure to feel the lash. Do you understand me?”
Inga bowed, but made no answer. Then she turned to Rinkitink and said:
“As for you, I cannot decide how to make you useful to me, as you are altogether too fat and awkward to work in the fields. It may be, however, that I can use you as a pincushion.
“What!” cried Rinkitink in horror, “would you stick pins into the King of Gilgad?”
“Why not?” returned Queen Cor. “You are as fat as a pincushion, as you must yourself admit, and whenever I needed a pin I could call you to me.” Then she laughed at his frightened look and asked: “By the way, are you ticklish?”
This was the question Rinkitink had been dreading. He gave a moan of despair and shook his head.
“I should love to tickle the bottom of your feet with a feather,” continued the cruel woman. “Please take off your shoes.”
“Oh, your Majesty!” pleaded poor Rinkitink, “I beg you to allow me to amuse you in some other way. I can dance, or I can sing you a song.”
“Well,” she answered, shaking with laughter, “you may sing a song — if it be a merry one. But you do not seem in a merry mood.”
“I feel merry — indeed, Your Majesty, I do!” protested Rinkitink, anxious to escape the tickling. But even as he professed to “feel merry” his round, red face wore an expression of horror and anxiety that was realty comical.
“Sing, then!” commanded Queen Cor, who was greatly amused.
Rinkitink gave a sigh of relief and after clearing his throat and trying to repress his sobs he began to sing this song-gently, at first, but finally roaring it out at the top of his voice:
“Oh!
There was a Baby Tiger lived in a men-ag-er-ie —
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy — they wouldn’t set him free; And ev’rybody thought that he was gentle as could be —
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy — Ba-by Ti-ger!
“Oh!
They patted him upon his head and shook him by the paw —
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy — he had a bone to gnaw; But soon he grew the biggest Tiger that you ever saw —
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy — what a Ti-ger!
“Oh!
One day they came to pet the brute and he began to fight —
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy-how he did scratch and bite! He broke the cage and in a rage he darted out of sight —
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy was a Ti-ger!”
“And is there a moral to the song?” asked Queen Cor, when King Rinkitink had finished his song with great spirit.
“If there is,” replied Rinkitink, “it is a warning not to fool with tigers.”
The little Prince could not help smiling at this shrewd answer, but Queen Cor frowned and gave the King a sharp look.
“Oh,” said she; “I think I know the difference between a tiger and a lapdog. But I’ll bear the warning in mind, just the same.”
For, after all her success in capturing them, she was a little afraid of these people who had once displayed such extraordinary powers.
Chapter Eleven
Zella Goes to Coregos
The forest in which Nikobob lived with his wife and daughter stood between the mountains and the City of Regos, and a well-beaten path wound among the trees, leading from the city to the mines. This path was used by the King’s messengers, and captured prisoners were also sent by this way from Regos to work in the underground caverns.
Nikobob had built his cabin more than a mile away from this path, that he might not be molested by the wild and lawless soldiers of King Gos, but the family of the charcoal-burner was surrounded by many creatures scarcely less dangerous to encounter, and often in the night they could hear savage animals growling and prowling about the cabin. Because Nikobob minded his own business and never hunted the wild creatures to injure them, the beasts had come to regard him as one of the natural dwellers in the forest and did not molest him or his family. Still Zella and her mother seldom wandered far from home, except on such errands as carrying honey to Coregos, and at these times Nikobob cautioned them to be very careful.
So when Zella set out on her journey to Queen Cor, with the two pails of honey in her hands, she was undertaking a dangerous adventure and there was no certainty that she would return safely to her loving parents. But they were poor, and Queen Cor’s money, which they expected to receive for the honey, would enable them to purchase many things that were needed; so it was deemed best that Zella should go. She was a brave little girl and poor people are often obliged to take chances that rich ones are spared.
A passing woodchopper had brought news to Nikobob’s cabin that Queen Cor had made a prisoner of the conquering Prince of Pingaree and that Gos and his warriors were again back in their city of Regos; but these struggles and conquests were matters which, however interesting, did not concern the poor charcoal- burner or his family. They were more anxious over the report that the warriors had become more reckless than ever before, and delighted in annoying all the common people; so Zella was told to keep away from the beaten path as much as possible, that she might not encounter any of the King’s soldiers.
“When it is necessary to choose between the warriors and the wild beasts,” said Nikobob, “the beasts will be found the more merciful.”
The little girl had put on her best attire for the journey and her mother threw a blue silk shawl over her head and shoulders. Upon her feet were the pretty red shoes her father had brought her from Regos. Thus prepared, she kissed her parents good-bye and started out with a light heart, carrying the pails of honey in either hand.
It was necessary for Zella to cross the path that led from the mines to the city, but once on the other side she was not likely to meet with anyone, for she had resolved to cut through the forest and so reach the bridge of boats without entering the City of Regos, where she might be interrupted. For an hour or two she found the walking easy enough, but then the forest, which in this part was unknown to her, became badly tangled. The trees were thicker and creeping vines intertwined between them. She had to turn this way and that to get through at all, and finally she came to a place where a network of vines and branches effectually barred her farther progress.
Zella was dismayed, at first, when she encountered this obstacle, but setting down her pails she made an endeavor to push the branches aside. At her touch they parted as if by magic, breaking asunder like dried twigs, and she found she could pass freely. At another place a great log had fallen across her way, but the little girl lifted it easily and cast it aside, although six ordinary men could scarcely have moved it.
The child was somewhat worried at this evidence of a strength she had heretofore been ignorant that she possessed. In order to satisfy herself that it was no delusion, she tested her new-found power in many ways, finding that nothing was too big nor too heavy for her to lift. And, naturally enough, the girl gained courage from these experiments and became confident that she could protect herself in any emergency. When, presently, a wild boar ran toward her, grunting horribly and threatening her with its great tusks, she did not climb a tree to escape, as she had always done before on meeting such creatures, but stood still and faced the boar. When it had come quite close and Zella saw that it could not injure her — a fact that astonished both the beast and the girl — she suddenly reached down and seizing it by one ear threw the great beast far off amongst the trees, where it fell headlong to the earth, grunting louder than ever with surprise and fear.
The girl laughed merrily at this incident and, picking up her pails, resumed her journey through the forest. It is not recorded whether the wild boar told his adventure to the other beasts or they had happened to witness his defeat, but certain it is that Zella was not again molested. A brown bear watched her pass without making any movement in her direction and a great puma — a beast much dreaded by all men — crept out of her path as she approached, and disappeared among the trees.
Thus everything favored the girl’s journey and she made such good speed that by noon she emerged from the forest’s edge and found she was quite near to the bridge of boats that led to Coregos. This she crossed safely and without meeting any of the rude warriors she so greatly feared, and five minutes later the daughter of the charcoal-burner was seeking admittance at the back door of Queen Cor’s palace.
Chapter Twelve
The Excitement of Bilbil the Goat
Our story must now return to one of our characters whom we have been forced to neglect. The temper of Bilbil the goat was not sweet under any circumstances, and whenever he had a grievance he was inclined to be quite grumpy. So, when his master settled down in the palace of King Gos for a quiet life with the boy Prince, and passed his time in playing checkers and eating and otherwise enjoying himself, he had no use whatever for Bilbil, and shut the goat in an upstairs room to prevent his wandering through the city and quarreling with the citizens. But this Bilbil did not like at all. He became very cross and disagreeable at being left alone and he did not speak nicely to the servants who came to bring him food; therefore those people decided not to wait upon him any more, resenting his conversation and not liking to be scolded by a lean, scraggly goat, even though it belonged to a conqueror. The servants kept away from the room and Bilbil grew more hungry and more angry every hour. He tried to eat the rugs and ornaments, but found them not at all nourishing. There was no grass to be had unless he escaped from the palace.
When Queen Cor came to capture Inga and Rinkitink, both the prisoners were so filled with despair at their own misfortune that they gave no thought whatever to the goat, who was left in his room. Nor did Bilbil know anything of the changed fortunes of his comrades until he heard shouts and boisterous laughter in the courtyard below. Looking out of a window, with the intention of rebuking those who dared thus to disturb him, Bilbil saw the courtyard quite filled with warriors and knew from this that the palace had in some way again fallen into the hands of the enemy.
Now, although Bilbil was often exceedingly disagreeable to King Rinkitink, as well as to the Prince, and sometimes used harsh words in addressing them, he was intelligent enough to know them to be his friends, and to know that King Gos and his people were his foes. In sudden anger, provoked by the sight of the warriors and the knowledge that he was in the power of the dangerous men of Regos, Bilbil butted his head against the door of his room and burst it open. Then he ran to the head of the staircase and saw King Gos coming up the stairs followed by a long line of his chief captains and warriors.
The goat lowered his head, trembling with rage and excitement, and just as the King reached the top stair the animal dashed forward and butted His Majesty so fiercely that the big and powerful King, who did not expect an attack, doubled up and tumbled backward. His great weight knocked over the man just behind him and he in turn struck the next warrior and upset him, so that in an instant the whole line of Bilbil’s foes was tumbling heels over head to the bottom of the stairs, where they piled up in a heap, struggling and shouting and in the mixup hitting one another with their fists, until every man of them was bruised and sore.
Finally King Gos scrambled out of the heap and rushed up the stairs again, very angry indeed. Bilbil was ready for him and a second time butted the King down the stairs; but now the goat also lost his balance and followed the King, landing full upon the confused heap of soldiers. Then he kicked out so viciously with his heels that he soon freed himself and dashed out of the doorway of the palace.
“Stop him!” cried King Gos, running after.
But the goat was now so wild and excited that it was not safe for anyone to stand in his way. None of the men were armed and when one or two tried to head off the goat, Bilbil sent them sprawling upon the ground. Most of the warriors, however, were wise enough not to attempt to interfere with his flight.
Coursing down the street, Bilbil found himself approaching the bridge of boats and without pausing to think where it might lead him he crossed over and proceeded on his way. A few moments later a great stone building blocked his path. It was the palace of Queen Cor, and seeing the gates of the courtyard standing wide open, Bilbil rushed through them without slackening his speed.
Chapter Thirteen
Zella Saves the Prince
The wicked Queen of Coregos was in a very bad humor this morning, for one of her slave drivers had come from the fields to say that a number of slaves had rebelled and would not work.
“Bring them here to me!” she cried savagely. “A good whipping may make them change their minds.”
So the slave driver went to fetch the rebellious ones and Queen Cor sat down to eat her breakfast, an ugly look on her face.
Prince Inga had been ordered to stand behind his new mistress with a big fan of peacock’s feathers, but he was so unused to such service that he awkwardly brushed her ear with the fan. At once she flew into a terrible rage and slapped the Prince twice with her hand-blows that tingled, too, for her hand was big and hard and she was not inclined to be gentle. Inga took the blows without shrinking or uttering a cry, although they stung his pride far more than his body. But King Rinkitink, who was acting as the queen’s butler and had just brought in her coffee, was so startled at seeing the young Prince punished that he tipped over the urn and the hot coffee streamed across the lap of the Queen’s best morning gown.
Cor sprang from her seat with a scream of anger and poor Rinkitink would doubtless have been given a terrible beating had not the slave driver returned at this moment and attracted the woman’s attention. The overseer had brought with him all of the women slaves from Pingaree, who had been loaded down with chains and were so weak and ill they could scarcely walk, much less work in the fields.
Prince Inga’s eyes were dimmed with sorrowful tears when he discovered how his poor people had been abused, but his own plight was so helpless that he was unable to aid them. Fortunately the boy’s mother, Queen Garee, was not among these slaves, for Queen Cor had placed her in the royal dairy to make butter.
“Why do you refuse to work?” demanded Cor in a harsh voice, as the slaves from Pingaree stood before her, trembling and with downcast eyes.
“Because we lack strength to perform the tasks your overseers demand,” answered one of the women.
“Then you shall be whipped until your strength returns!” exclaimed the Queen, and turning to Inga, she commanded: “Get me the whip with the seven lashes.”
As the boy left the room, wondering how he might manage to save the unhappy women from their undeserved punishment, he met a girl entering by the back way, who asked:
“Can you tell me where to find Her Majesty, Queen Cor?”
“She is in the chamber with the red dome, where green dragons are painted upon the walls,” replied Inga; “but she is in an angry and ungracious mood to-day. Why do you wish to see her?”
“I have honey to sell,” answered the girl, who was Zella, just come from the forest. “The Queen is very fond of my honey.”
“You may go to her, if you so desire,” said the boy, “but take care not to anger the cruel Queen, or she may do you a mischief.”
“Why should she harm me, who brings her the honey she so dearly loves?” inquired the child innocently. “But I thank you for your warning; and I will try not to anger the Queen.”
As Zella started to go, Inga’s eyes suddenly fell upon her shoes and instantly he recognized them as his own. For only in Pingaree were shoes shaped in this manner: high at the heel and pointed at the toes.
“Stop!” he cried in an excited voice, and the girl obeyed, wonderingly. “Tell me,” he continued, more gently, “where did you get those shoes?”
“My father brought them to me from Regos,” she answered.
“From Regos!”
“Yes. Are they not pretty?” asked Zella, looking down at her feet to admire them. “One of them my father found by the palace wall, and the other on an ash-heap. So he brought them to me and they fit me perfectly.”
By this time Inga was trembling with eager joy, which of course the girl could not understand.
“What is your name, little maid?” he asked.