<h2 id="c4"><span class="smaller">Chapter 4</span> <br/>The Curious Cottabus Appears</h2>
<p>“Ouch!” Prince Pompadore stirred uneasily and
rolled over. “Ouch!” he groaned again, giving
his pillow a fretful thump. “Ouch!” This time his
eyes flew wide open, for his knuckles were tingling
with pain.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_51">51</div>
<p>“A rock!” gasped the Prince, sitting up indignantly.
“A rock under my head! No wonder it aches! Great
Gillikens! Where am I?” He stared about wildly.
There was not a familiar object in sight. Indeed he
was in a dim, deep forest, and from the distance came
the sound of someone sawing wood.</p>
<p>“Oh! Oh! I know!” muttered the Prince, rubbing
his head miserably. “It’s that wretched scroll. I’ve
disappeared and this is the place I’ve disappeared to.”
Stiffly he got to his feet and started to walk in the
direction of the sawing, but had only gone a few steps
before he gave a cry of joy, for there, leaning up
against a tree, snoring like twenty wood-cutters at
work, was Kabumpo.</p>
<p>“Wake up!” cried Pompadore, pounding him with
all his might. “Wake up, Kabumpo. We’ve disappeared!”</p>
<p>“Have we?” yawned the Elegant Elephant, opening
one eye. “You don’t say? Hah, Hoh, Hum!” With
a tremendous yawn he opened the other eye and began
to chuckle and shake all over.</p>
<p>“We stole a march on ’em, Pompa. I’d like to see
the King’s face when he finds us gone. Old Pumper
will be Oyezing all over the palace. He’ll think we’ve
disappeared by magic.”</p>
<p>“Well, didn’t we?” asked Pompadore in amazement.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_52">52</div>
<p>“Not unless you call <i>me</i> magic. I carried you off in
the night. Did you suppose old Kabumpo was going
to stand quietly by while they married you to a faggotty
old fairy like Faleero? Not much,” wheezed the
Elegant Elephant. “I have other plans for you, little
one!”</p>
<p>“But this is terrible!” cried the Prince, catching
hold of a tree. “Here you have left my poor old
father, my lovely mother, and the whole Kingdom of
Pumperdink to disappear. We’ll have to go right
straight back—right straight back to Pumperdink.
Do you hear?”</p>
<p>“Do have a little sense!” Kabumpo shook himself
crossly. “You can’t save them by going back. The
thing to do is to go forward, find the Proper Princess
and marry her. No scroll magic takes effect for seven
days, anyway!”</p>
<p>“How do you know?” asked Pompa anxiously.</p>
<p>“Read it in a witch book,” answered Kabumpo
promptly. “Now, that gives us plenty of time to go to
the Emerald City and present ourselves to the lovely
ruler of Oz. There’s a Proper Princess for you,
Pompa!”</p>
<p>“But suppose she refuses me,” said the Prince uncertainly.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_53">53</div>
<p>“You’re very handsome, Pompa, my boy.” The Elegant
Elephant gave the Prince a playful poke with
his trunk. “I’ve brought all my jewels as gifts and
the magic mirror and door knob as well. If she
refuses you and the worst comes to the worst”—Kabumpo
cleared his throat gravely—“well—just
leave it to me!”</p>
<p>After a bit more coaxing and after eating the breakfast
Kabumpo had thoughtfully brought along, Pompa
allowed the Elegant Elephant to lift him on his head
and off they set at Kabumpo’s best speed for the
Emerald City of Oz.</p>
<p>Neither the Prince nor the Elegant Elephant had
ever been out of Pumperdink, but Kabumpo had found
an old map of Oz in the palace library. According to
this map, the Emerald City lay directly to the South of
their own country. “So all we have to do is to keep
going South,” chuckled Kabumpo softly. Pompadore
nodded, but he was trying to recall the exact words of
the mysterious scroll:</p>
<p>“Know Ye, that unless ye Prince of ye ancient and
honorable Kingdom of Pumperdink shall wed ye
Proper Fairy Princess in ye proper span of time ye
Kingdom of Pumperdink shall disappear forever and
even longer from ye Gilliken Country of Oz. <i>J. G.</i>”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_54">54</div>
<p>Pompadore repeated the words solemnly; then fell
a-thinking of all he had heard of Ozma of Oz, the loveliest
little fairy imaginable.</p>
<p>“She wouldn’t want one of her Kingdom to disappear,”
reflected Pompadore sagely. Now, as it happened,
Ozma did not even know of the existence of
Pumperdink. Oz is so large and inhabited by so many
strange and singular peoples that although fourteen
books of history have been written about it, only half
the story has been told. There are no Oz railway or
steamship lines and traveling is tedious and slow,
owing to the magic nature of the land itself, its many
mountains and fairy forests, so that Pumperdink, like
many of the small Kingdoms on the outskirts of Oz,
has never been explored by Ozma.</p>
<p>Oz itself is a huge oblong country divided into four
parts, the North being the purple Gilliken country, the
East the blue Munchkin country, the South the red
lands of the Quadlings, and the West the pleasant yellow
country of the Winkies. In the very center of Oz,
as almost every boy and girl knows, is the wonderful
Emerald City, and in its gorgeous green palace lives
Ozma, the lovely little Fairy Princess, whom Kabumpo
wanted Pompadore to marry.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_55">55</div>
<p>“Do you know,” mused the Prince, after they had
traveled some time through the dim forest, “I believe
that gold mirror has a lot to do with all this. I believe
it was put in the cake to help me find the Proper Princess.”</p>
<p>“Where would you find a more Proper Princess than
Ozma?” puffed Kabumpo indignantly. “Ozma is the
one—depend upon it!”</p>
<p>“Just the same,” said Pompa firmly, “I’m going to
try every Princess we meet!”</p>
<p>“Do you expect to find ’em running wild in the
woods?” snorted Kabumpo, who didn’t like to be contradicted.</p>
<p>“You never can tell.” The Prince of Pumperdink
settled back comfortably. Now that they were really
started, he was finding traveling extremely interesting.
“I should have done this long ago,” murmured
the Prince to himself. “Every Prince should go on a
journey of adventure.”</p>
<p>“How long will it take us to reach the Emerald
City?” he asked presently.</p>
<p>“Two days, if nothing happens,” answered Kabumpo.
“Say—what’s that?” He stopped short and
spread his ears till they looked like sails. The underbrush
at the right was crackling from the springs of
some large animal, and next minute a hoarse voice
roared:</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_56">56</div>
<div class="verse">
<p class="t0">“I want to know</p>
<p class="t">The which and what,</p>
<p class="t0">The where and how and why?</p>
<p class="t">A curious, luxurious</p>
<p class="t0">Old Cottabus am I!</p>
</div>
<div class="verse">
<p class="t0">I want to know the</p>
<p class="t">When and who,</p>
<p class="t0">The whatfor and whyso, Sir!</p>
<p class="t">So please attend, there is no end</p>
<p class="t0">To things I want to know, Sir!”</p>
</div>
<p>“Aha!” exulted the voice triumphantly. “There you
are!” And a great round head was thrust out, almost
in Kabumpo’s face. “Oh! I’m going to enjoy this.
Don’t move!”</p>
<p>Kabumpo was too astonished to move, and the next
instant the Cottabus had flounced out of the bushes
and settled itself directly in front of the two travelers.
It was large as a pony, but shaped like a great overfed
cat. Its eyes bulged unpleasantly and the end of its
tail ended in a large fan.</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_055.jpg" alt="The Cottabus was as large as a pony, but shaped like a great overfed cat" width-obs="575" height-obs="800" /> <p class="caption"><span class="sc">The Cottabus was as large as a pony, but shaped like a great overfed cat</span></p> </div>
<p>“Well,” grunted Kabumpo after the strange creature
had regarded them for a full minute without
blinking.</p>
<p>“Well, what?” it asked, beginning to fan itself
sulkily. “You act as if you had never seen a Cottabus
before.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_57">57</div>
<p>“We never have,” admitted Pompa, peering over
Kabumpo’s head and secretly wishing he had brought
along his jeweled sword.</p>
<p>“Why haven’t you?” asked the Cottabus, rolling up
its eyes. “How frightfully ignorant!” It closed its
fan tail with a snap and looked up at them disapprovingly.
“Will you kindly tell me who you are, where
you came from, when you came, what you are going
for, how you are going to get it, why you are going
and what you are going to do when you do get it!”</p>
<p>“I don’t see why we should tell you all that,” grumbled
Kabumpo. “It's none of your affair.”</p>
<p>“Wrong!” shrieked the creature hysterically. “It
is the business of a Cottabus to find out everything. I
live on other people’s affairs, and unless”—here it
paused, took a large handkerchief out of a pocket in its
fur and began to wipe its eyes—“unless a Cottabus
asks fifty questions a day it curls up in its porch rocker
and d-d-dies, and this is my fifth questionless day.”</p>
<p>“Curl up and die, then,” said Kabumpo gruffly.
But the kind-hearted Prince felt sorry for the foolish
creature.</p>
<p>“If we answer your questions, will you answer
ours?”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_58">58</div>
<p>“I’ll try,” sniffed the Curious Cottabus, and leaning
over it dragged a rocking chair out of the bushes and
seated itself comfortably.</p>
<p>“Well, then,” began Pompa, “this is the Elegant
Elephant and I am a Prince. We came from Pumperdink
because our Kingdom was threatened with disappearance
unless I marry a Proper Princess.”</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_058.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="600" height-obs="405" /></div>
<p>“Yes,” murmured the Cottabus, rocking violently.
“Yes, yes!”</p>
<p>“And we are going to the Emerald City to ask Princess
Ozma for her hand,” continued the Prince.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_59">59</div>
<p>“How do you know she is the one? When did this
happen? Who brought the message? What are you
going to do if Ozma refuses you?” asked the Cottabus,
leaning forward breathlessly.</p>
<p>“Are you going to stand talking to this ridiculous
creature all day?” grumbled Kabumpo. But Pompadore,
perhaps because he was so young, felt flattered
that even a curious old Cottabus should take such an
interest in his affairs. So beginning at the very beginning
he told the whole story of his birthday party.</p>
<p>“Yes, yes,” gulped the Cottabus wildly each time
the Prince paused for breath. “Yes, yes,” fluttering
its fan excitedly. When Pompadore had finished the
Cottabus leaned back, closed its eyes and put both
paws on the arms of the rocker. “I never heard anything
more curious in my life,” said the curious one.
“This will keep me amused for three days!”</p>
<p>“Of course—that’s what we’re here for—to amuse
you!” said Kabumpo scornfully. “Let's be going,
Pompa!”</p>
<p>“Perhaps the Curious Cottabus can tell us something
of the country ahead. Are there any Princesses
living ’round here?” the Prince asked eagerly.</p>
<p>“Never heard of any,” said the Cottabus, opening its
eyes. “Can you multiply—add—divide and subtract?
Are you good at fractions, Prince?”</p>
<p>“Not very,” admitted Pompadore, looking mystified.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_60">60</div>
<p>“Then you won’t make much headway,” sighed the
Cottabus, shaking its head solemnly. “Now, don’t ask
me why,” it added lugubriously, dragging its rocker
back into the brush, and while Kabumpo and Pompa
stared in amazement it wriggled away into the bushes.</p>
<p>“Come on,” cried Kabumpo with a contemptuous
grunt, but he had only gone a few steps when the
Curious Cottabus stuck its head out of an opening in
the trees just ahead. “When are you coming back?”
it asked, twitching its nose anxiously.</p>
<p>“Never!” trumpeted Kabumpo, increasing his
speed. Again the Cottabus disappeared, only to reappear
at the first turn in the road.</p>
<p>“Did you say the door knob hit you on the head?”
it asked pleadingly.</p>
<p>Kabumpo gave a snort of anger and rushed along so
fast that Pompa had to hang on for dear life.</p>
<p>“Guess we’ve left him behind this time,” spluttered
the Elegant Elephant, after he had run almost a mile.</p>
<p>But at that minute there was a wheeze from the
underbrush and the head of the Cottabus was thrust
out. Its tongue was hanging out and it was panting
with exhaustion. “How old are you?” it gasped rolling
its eyes pitifully. “Who was your grandfather on
your father’s side, and was he bald?”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_61">61</div>
<p>“Kerumberty Bumpus!” raged the Elegant Elephant,
flouncing to the other side of the road.</p>
<p>“But why was the door knob in the cake?” gulped
the Cottabus, two tears trickling off its nose.</p>
<p>“How should we know,” said Pompa coldly.</p>
<p>“Then just tell me the date of your birth,” wailed
the Cottabus, two tears trickling off its nose.</p>
<p>“No! No!” screamed Kabumpo, and this time he
ran so fast that the tearful voice of the Cottabus became
fainter and fainter and finally died away altogether.</p>
<p>“Provokingest creature I’ve ever met,” grumbled
the Elegant Elephant, and this time Pompa agreed
with him.</p>
<p>“Isn’t it almost lunch time?” asked the Prince. He
was beginning to feel terribly hungry.</p>
<p>“And aren’t there any villages or cities between here
and the Emerald City?” Pompa spoke again.</p>
<p>“Don’t know,” wheezed Kabumpo, swinging ahead.</p>
<p>“Oh! There’s a flag!” cried Pompa suddenly. “It’s
flying above the tree tops just ahead.”</p>
<p>And so it was—a huge, flapping black flag covered
with hundreds of figures and signs.</p>
<p>“Hurry up, Kabumpo,” urged the Prince. “This
looks interesting.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_62">62</div>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_062.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="500" height-obs="536" /></div>
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