The Sea Fairies, Lyman Frank Baum [i can read with my eyes shut txt] 📗
- Author: Lyman Frank Baum
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“That’s what you said, Cap’n Bill.”
“So I guess we’re done for, one way ‘r ‘nother, an’ it don’t matter much which. But Trot’s a good child, an’ mighty young an’ tender. It don’t seem like her time has come to die. I’d like to have her sent safe home to her mother. So I’ve got this ‘ere proposition to make, Zog. If your magic could make ME die twice, or even THREE times fer good measure, why you go ahead an’ do it an’ I won’t complain. All I ask is fer you to send this little girl safe back to dry land again.”
“Don’t you do it, Zog!” cried Trot indignantly, and turning to Cap’n Bill, she added, “I’m not goin’ to leave you down here in all this mess, Cap’n, and don’t you think it. If one of us gets out of the muddle we’re in, we’ll both get out, so don’t you make any bargains with Zog to die twice.”
Zog listened to this conversation very carefully. “The dying does not amount to much,” he said. “It is the thinking about it that hurts you mortals most. I’ve watched many a shipwreck at sea, and the people would howl and scream for hours before the ship broke up. Their terror was very enjoyable. But when the end came, they all drowned as peacefully as if they were going to sleep, so it didn’t amuse me at all.”
“I’m not worrying,” said Trot.
“Ner me,” said Cap’n Bill. “You’ll find we can take what comes jes’ as easy as anybody.”
“I do not expect to get much from you poor mortals,” said Zog carelessly. “You are merely a side show to my circus, a sort of dessert to my feast of vengeance. When the time comes, I can find a hundred ways to kill you. My most interesting prisoners are these pretty mermaids, who claim that none of their race has ever yet died or been destroyed. The first mermaid ever created is living yet, and I am told she is none other than Queen Aquareine. So I have a pretty problem before me to invent some way to destroy the mermaids or put them out of existence. And it will require some thought.”
“Also, it will require some power you do not possess,” suggested the Queen.
“That may be,” replied Zog softly. “But I am going to experiment, and I believe I shall be able to cause you a lot of pain and sorrow before I finally make an end of you. I have not lived twenty-seven thousand years, Aquareine, without getting a certain amount of wisdom, and I am more powerful than you suspect.”
“You are a monster and a wicked magician,” said the Mermaid Queen.
“I am,” agreed Zog, “but I cannot help it. I was created part man, part bird, part fish, part beast and part reptile, and such a monstrosity could not be otherwise than wicked. Everybody hates me, and I hate everybody.”
“Why don’t you kill yourself?” asked Trot.
“I’ve tried that and failed,” he answered. “Only one being in the world has power to destroy me, and that is King Anko, the sea serpent.”
“Then you’d better let him do it,” advised the little girl.
“No. Much as I long to die, I cannot allow King Anko the pleasure of killing me. He has always been my worst enemy, and it would be such a joy to him to kill me that I really cannot allow him. Indeed, I have always hoped to kill Anko. I have now been three thousand six hundred and forty-two years, eleven months and nine days figuring out a plan to destroy old Anko, and as yet I have not discovered a way.”
“I’d give it up, if I were you,” advised Trot. “Don’t you think you could get some fun out of trying to be good?”
“No!” cried Zog, and his voice was not so soft as before. “Listen, Aquareine, you and your attendants shall be prisoners in this castle until I can manage to stop you from living. Rooms will be placed at your disposal, and I wish you to go to them at o nce, as I am tired of looking at you.”
“You’re no more tired than we are,” remarked Trot. “It’s lucky you can’t see yourself, Zog.”
He turned his glowing eyes full upon her. “The worst of my queer body I keep concealed,” he said. “If ever you see it, you will scream with terror.” He touched a bell beside him, and the girl was surprised to find how clearly its tones rang out through the water. In an instant the boy Sacho appeared and bowed low before his dreadful master. “Take the mermaids and the child to the Rose Chamber,” commanded Zog, “and take the old man-fish to the Peony Room.”
Sacho turned to obey. “Are the outer passages well guarded?” asked the monster.
“Yes, as you have commanded,” said the boy.
“Then you may allow the prisoners to roam at will throughout the castle. Now, go!”
The prisoners followed Sacho from the room, glad to get away. The presence of this evil being had grown oppressive to them, and Zog had himself seemed ill at ease during the last few minutes. The robe so closely wound around his body moved jerkily, as if something beneath disturbed it, and at such times Zog shifted nervously in his seat.
Sacho’s thin little legs trotted through the water and led the way into a different passage from the one by which they had entered. They swam slowly after him and breathed easier when they had left the golden domed chamber where their wicked enemy sat enthroned. “Well, how do you like him?” asked Sacho with a laugh.
“We hate him!” declared Trot emphatically.
“Of course you do,” replied Sacho. “But you’re wasting time hating anything. It doesn’t do you any good, or him any harm. Can you sing?”
“A little,” said Trot, “but I don’t feel like singing now.”
“You’re wrong about that,” the boy asserted. “Anything that keeps you from singing is foolishness, unless it’s laughter. Laughter, joy and song are the only good things in the world.”
Trot did not answer this queer speech, for just then they came to a flight of stairs, and Sacho climbed up them while the others swam. And now they were in a lofty, broad corridor having many doors hung with seaweed draperies. At one of these doorways Sacho stopped and said, “Here is the Rose Chamber where the master commands you to live until you die. You may wander anywhere in the castle as you please; to leave it is impossible. Whenever you return to the Rose Chamber, you will know it by this design of roses sewn in pearls upon the hangings. The Peony Room where the man-fish is to live is the next one farther on.”
“Thank you,” replied Queen Aquareine. “Are we to be fed?”
“Meals will be served in your rooms. If you desire anything, ring the bell and some of the slaves will be sure to answer it. I am mostly in attendance upon my master, but whenever I am at liberty I will look after your comfort myself.”
Again they thanked the strange boy, and he turned and left them. They could hear him whistle and sing as he returned along the passage. Then Princess Clia parted the curtains that her queen and companions might enter the Rose Chamber.
CAP’N JOE AND CAP’N BILL
The rooms Zog had given his prisoners were as handsome as all other parts of this strange enchanted castle. Gold was used plentifully in the decorations, and in the Rose Chamber occupied by the mermaids and Trot golden roses formed a border around the entire room. The sea maidens had evidently been expected, for the magician had provided couches for them to recline upon similar to the ones used in the mermaid palaces. The frames were of mother of pearl and the cushions of soft, white sponges. In the room were toilet tables, mirrors, ornaments and many articles used by earth people, which they afterward learned had been plundered by Zog from sunken ships and brought to his castle by his allies, the sea devils.
While the mermaids were examining and admiring their room, Cap’n Bill went to the Peony Room to see what it was like and found his quarters were very cozy and interesting. There were pictures on the wall, portraits of grave-looking porpoises, bashful seals, and smug and smiling walruses. Some of the wall panels were formed of mirrors and reflected clearly the interior of the room. Around the ceiling was a frieze of imitation peonies in silver, and the furniture was peony-shaped, the broad leaves being bent to form seats and couches. Beside a pretty dressing table hung a bell cord with a tassel at the end. Cap’n Bill did not know it was a bell cord, so he pulled it to see what would happen and was puzzled to find that nothing seemed to happen at all, the bell being too far away for him to hear it. Then he began looking at the treasures contained in this royal apartment, and was much pleased with a golden statue of a mermaid that resembled Princess Clia in feature. A silver flower vase upon a stand contained a bouquet of gorgeous peonies, “as nat’ral as life,” said Cap’n Bill, although he saw plainly that they must be made of metal.
Trot came in just then to see how her dear friend was located. She entered from the doorway that connected the two rooms and said, “Isn’t it pretty, Cap’n? And who’d ever think that awful creature Zog owned such a splendid castle and kept his prisoners in such lovely rooms?”
“I once heard tell,” said the sailor, “of a foreign people that sacrificed humans to please their pagan gods, an’ before they killed ‘em outright they stuffed the victims full of good things to eat an’ dressed ‘em in pretty clothes an’ treated ‘em like princes. That’s why I don’t take much comfort in our fine surroundin’s, Trot. This Zog is a pagan, if ever there was one, an’ he don’t mean us any good, you may depend on ‘t.”
“No,” replied Trot soberly, “I’m sure he does not expect us to be happy here. But I’m going to fool him and have just as good a time as I can.” As she spoke they both turned around—an easy thing to do with a single flop of their flexible tails—and Cap’n Bill uttered a cry of surprise. Just across the room stood a perfect duplicate of himself. The round head, with its bald top and scraggly whiskers, the sailor cap and shirt, the wide pantaloons, even the wooden leg, each and every one were exact copies of those owned by Cap’n Bill. Even the expression in the light-blue eyes was the same, and it is no wonder the old sailor stared at his “double” in amazement. But the next minute he laughed and said, “Why, Trot, it’s ME reflected in a mirror. But at first I thought it was someone else.”
Trot was staring, too. “Look, Cap’n!” she whispered. “Look at the wooden leg.”
“Well, it’s MY wooden leg, ain’t it?” he inquired.
“If it is, it can’t be a reflection in a mirror,” she argued, “for YOU haven’t got a wooden leg. You’ve got a fish’s tail.”
The old sailor was so startled by this truth that he gave a great flop with his tail that upset his balance and made him keel a somersault in the water before he got right side up again. Then he found the other sailor man laughing at him and was horrified to find the “reflection” advancing toward them by stumping along on its
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