Rinkitink In Oz by Lyman Frank Baum (books under 200 pages .txt) 📕

>“Ah,” said Rinkitink, looking at the fine catch when Inga returned to the shore; “these will taste delicious when they are cooked; but do you know how to cook them?”

“No,” was the reply. I have often caught fish, but never cooked them. Perhaps Your Majesty understands cooking.”

“Cooking and majesty are two different things,” laughed the little King. “I could not cook a fish to save me from starvation.”

“For my part,” said Bilbil, “I never eat fish, but I can tell you how to cook them, for I have often watched the palace cooks at their work.” And so, with the goat’s assistance, the boy and the King managed to prepare the fish and cook them, after which they were eaten with good appetite.

That night, after Rinkitink and Bilbil were both fast asleep, Inga stole quietly through the moonlight to the desolate banquet hall. There, kneeling down, he touched the secret spring as his father had instructed him to do and to his joy the tile sank downward and disclosed the opening. You may imagine how the boy’s heart throbbed with excitement as he slowly thrust his hand into the cavity and felt around to see if the precious pearls were still there. In a moment his fingers touched the silken bag and, without pausing to close the recess, he pressed the treasure against his breast and ran out into the moonlight to examine it. When he reached a bright place he started to open the bag, but he observed Bilbil lying asleep upon the grass near by. So, trembling with the fear of discovery, he ran to another place, and when he paused he heard Rinkitink snoring lustily. Again he fled and made his way to the seashore, where he squatted under a bank and began to untie the cords that fastened the mouth of the bag. But now another fear assailed him.

“If the pearls should slip from my hand,” he thought, “and roll into the water, they might be lost to me forever. I must find some safer place.”

Here and there he wandered, still clasping the silken bag in both hands, and finally he went to the grove and climbed into the tall tree where he had made his platform and seat. But here it was pitch dark, so he found he must wait patiently until morning before he dared touch the pearls. During those hours of waiting he had time for reflection and reproached himself for being so frightened by the possession of his father’s treasures.

“These pearls have belonged to our family for generations,” he mused, “yet no one has ever lost them. If I use ordinary care I am sure I need have no fears for their safety.”

When the dawn came and he could see plainly, Inga opened the bag and took out the Blue Pearl. There was no possibility of his being observed by others, so he took time to examine it wonderingly, saying to himself: “This will give me strength.”

Taking off his right shoe he placed the Blue Pearl within it, far up in the pointed toe. Then he tore a piece from his handkerchief and stuffed it into the shoe to hold the pearl in place. Inga’s shoes were long and pointed, as were all the shoes worn in Pingaree, and the points curled upward, so that there was quite a vacant space beyond the place where the boy’s toes reached when the shoe was upon his foot.

After he had put on the Shoe and laced it up he opened the bag and took out the Pink Pearl. “This will protect me from danger,” said Inga, and removing the shoe from his left foot he carefully placed the pearl in the hollow toe. This, also, he secured in place by means of a strip torn from his handkerchief.

Having put on the second shoe and laced it up, the boy drew from the silken bag the third pearl — that which was pure white — and holding it to his ear he asked.

“Will you advise me what to do, in this my hour of misfortune?”

Clearly the small voice of the pearl made answer:

“I advise you to go to the Islands of Regos and Coregos, where you may liberate your parents from slavery.”

“How could I do that?” exclaimed Prince Inga, amazed at receiving such advice.

“To-night,” spoke the voice of the pearl, “there will be a storm, and in the morning a boat will strand upon the shore. Take this boat and row to Regos and Coregos.”

“How can I, a weak boy, pull the boat so far?” he inquired, doubting the possibility.

“The Blue Pearl will give you strength,” was the reply.

“But I may be shipwrecked and drowned, before ever I reach Regos and Coregos,” protested the boy.

“The Pink Pearl will protect you from harm,” murmured the voice, soft and low but very distinct.

“Then I shall act as you advise me,” declared Inga, speaking firmly because this promise gave him courage, and as he removed the pearl from his ear it whispered:

“The wise and fearless are sure to win success.”

Restoring the White Pearl to the depths of the silken bag, Inga fastened it securely around his neck and buttoned his waist above it to hide the treasure from all prying eyes. Then he slowly climbed down from the tree and returned to the room where King Rinkitink still slept.

The goat was browsing upon the grass but looked cross and surly. When the boy said good morning as he passed, Bilbil made no response whatever. As Inga entered the room the King awoke and asked:

“What is that mysterious secret of yours? I’ve been dreaming about it, and I haven’t got my breath yet from tugging at those heavy blocks. Tell me the secret.”

“A secret told is no longer a secret,” replied Inga, with a laugh. “Besides, this is a family secret, which it is proper I should keep to myself. But I may tell you one thing, at least: We are going to leave this island tomorrow morning.”

The King seemed puzzled’ by this statement.

“I’m not much of a swimmer,” said he, “and, though I’m fat enough to float upon the surface of the water, I’d only bob around and get nowhere at all.”

“We shall not swim, but ride comfortably in a boat,” promised Inga.

“There isn’t a boat on this island!” declared Rinkitink, looking upon the boy with wonder.

“True,” said Inga. “But one will come to us in the morning.” He spoke positively, for he had perfect faith in the promise of the White Pearl; but Rinkitink, knowing nothing of the three marvelous jewels, began to fear that the little Prince had lost his mind through grief and misfortune.

For this reason the King did not question the boy further but tried to cheer him by telling him witty stories. He laughed at all the stories himself, in his merry, rollicking way, and Inga joined freely in the laughter because his heart had been lightened by the prospect of rescuing his dear parents. Not since the fierce warriors had descended upon Pingaree had the boy been so hopeful and happy.

With Rinkitink riding upon Bilbil’s back, the three made a tour of the island and found in the central part some bushes and trees bearing ripe fruit. They gathered this freely, for — aside from the fish which Inga caught — it was the only food they now had, and the less they had, the bigger Rinkitink’s appetite seemed to grow.

“I am never more happy,” said he with a sigh, “than when I am eating.”

Toward evening the sky became overcast and soon a great storm began to rage. Prince Inga and King Rinkitink took refuge within the shelter of the room they had fitted up and there Bilbil joined them. The goat and the King were somewhat disturbed by the violence of the storm, but Inga did not mind it, being pleased at this evidence that the White Pearl might be relied upon.

All night the wind shrieked around the island; thunder rolled, lightning flashed and rain came down in torrents. But with morning the storm abated and when the sun arose no sign of the tempest remained save a few fallen trees.