CHAPTER 18 A New Country

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Driven by the pitiless wind, pounded by the merciless sea, the Crescent Moon rode before the gale, coming, toward morning, into quiet waters at last. The sky, now pale grey instead of black, showed a small single star in the east, and with a huge sigh of weariness and relief Samuel let go the anchor and bade his crew turn in all standing. This they were only too glad to do, sleeping heavily and thankfully in their clothes, Nikobo still wrapped in her sail snoring like a whole band of music beneath the mizzenmast.

Tandy, to whom the storm had been a thrilling adventure, was the first to waken. Still stiff and bruised from the pounding he had taken as the Crescent Moon tossed and pitched in the terrible seas, he sprang eagerly out of his bunk, curious to know where the storm had carried them.

The morning mists, lifting like a shimmering veil or the curtain of a stage on some new and strange scene, showed a long white line of chalk cliffs to the east, and beyond the cliffs the dim outline of a great and splendid city. With joy and lively expectations Tandy had run out on deck, but now, after a long look over the port rail, he crept silently and soberly back to his cabin, closing the door softly behind him. Later, as the sun rose higher, and his shipmates awoke, the excited screams of Nikobo and Roger and the eager voices of Samuel and Ato told him that they too had seen the bright land beyond the cliffs. Already Samuel was clewing up his sail and above the rattle in the rigging Tandy could hear the rasp of the anchor cable as it came winding over the side. But he only bent lower over the fat book in his lap, and when the Read Bird, loudly calling his name, came hurtling through the port-hole, he did not even look up.

"Land! Land and MORELAND!" croaked Roger, dancing up and down on the foot of the bunk. "None of your pesky islands this time, but a whole long new continent. What in salt's the matter, youngster, this is no time to be a-reading! Come on, come on, the Captain's looking for you!" As Roger peered sharply down at the book in Tandy's lap two tears splashed on the open page. Quickly brushing two more off his nose, the ship's cabin boy unwillingly met the puzzled gaze of the Read Bird.

"Roger," demanded Tandy in a smothered and unsteady voice, "which is most important, being a King or being a person?" Roger, his head on one side, considered this for a moment and then spoke quickly.

"Well, you can't be a good King without being a good person, so I should say, being a good person is most important."

"But it says here," with a furious sniff Tandy put his finger on the middle paragraph of the page, "'In no circumstances and for no reason may a King forsake his country nor desert his countrymen.'"

"What's that? What's this? Humph! Maxims for Monarchs. Well, what in topsails do we care for that musty volume?" Giving the book a vicious shove, Roger, forgetting how much he had formerly praised Ato's fat volume, fluttered down on Tandy's shoulder. "So THAT'S it!" he burst out explosively. "This pernicious country yonder is Ozamaland. Well, we can't spare you and that's final. They didn't know how to treat a good King when they had one, now let 'em practice on somebody else. Say the word, m'lad, and we'll put about and sail away as fast as a good ship can take us! CAPTAIN! Master Salt! Deck ahoy! All hands 'HOY!" Without waiting for Tandy's answer, Roger skimmed through the port and winged over to the Captain.

"Wait! Wait!" sputtered Tandy, hurrying aft where the officers and crew of the Crescent Moon were now engaged in earnest conversation. "Don't you remember you wanted some of those creeping birds and flying reptiles, Captain? Well, this is the place!" puffed the little boy, waving his arm toward the cliffs. "This is Ozamaland and I've got to go ashore. It's really all right," he continued earnestly as Samuel began unhappily rubbing his chin, "it's been a grand voyage and I've learned a lot, but a King has to stick to his post, hasn't he?"

"Not all the time," snapped Ato, giving his belt an indignant jerk. "You stuck to your post and they stuck you in a tower and then in a pig pen in the jungle. So what do you owe them? Nothing, say I, absolutely nothing!"

But Samuel Salt, regretful as he was to lose this handy young artist and cabin boy, felt that Tandy must decide the matter for himself. "If you're as good a King as you are a seaman, I'm not the one to hold you back," he sighed sorrowfully. "But just let these lubbers start any more nonsense and I'll give them a taste of the rope. HAH! And we'll not be leaving you till everything's shipshape, and you can lay to that!"

"I'm not leaving you at all," snorted Nikobo, lumbering hugely over to Tandy and almost flattening him against the port rail. "I'll miss this ship worse'n the river, and Ato's cooking and the Captain's stories and Roger's jokes, but wherever Tandy goes I go, and that's flat!"

"Just plain noddling nonsense, putting him ashore," fumed Ato angrily. "He's not old enough to manage these wild tribesmen and scheming aristocrats. Besides, we need him on this expedition, and you know it." Samuel, sighing deeply, smiled at Tandy and Tandy, sighing just as deeply, smiled back.

"Never you mind," promised the former Pirate with a wink that somehow lacked conviction, "there'll be other voyages!" And seizing the wheel, he began tacking in toward Tandy's homeland. But he had lost all pleasure and interest in charting for the first time on any map the long continent of Tarara and adding strange animals and plants to his ever-growing collection. Losing Tandy spoiled the whole expedition for him, and by taking longer and wider tacks he delayed their landing to the latest possible moment.

But at last there they were in the very shadow of the chalk cliffs and with no further excuse for not going ashore. Nikobo had agreed to carry them and had abruptly heaved herself overboard, sending up a fountain of spray as high as the ship itself when she struck the water, thus astonishing no end the watchers on the bank. Tandy, after running down to the hold to say goodbye to Mo-fi and have a last look at the jellyfish boy, regretfully joined the others at the port rail. Having brought nothing aboard the Crescent Moon, he insisted on leaving in the same way, soberly waving aside all the gifts and presents Ato and Samuel sought to press upon him. Clad only in the leopard skin he had worn on Patrippany Island, he swung nimbly down the rope ladder. The Captain and the cook, in honor of Tandy's homecoming, had donned their finest shore-going togs, and Samuel, with a scimiter in his teeth, and Ato, armed as usual with his bread knife and a package he refused to explain, followed him more slowly down the ladder. Then they all climbed aboard the hippopotamus.

Roger, flying ahead with some Oz flags just for luck, could not help comparing the brown, hard-muscled young seaman with the skinny, fretful boy they had taken on at Patrippany Island. Trying to comfort himself with Tandy's improved health and spirits, he looked curiously at the great company assembled on the cliffs. All of the Nobles and their families in flowing white robes were present and many of the immense turbanned tribesmen who happened to be in the capital had gathered to see for themselves the first ship that had ever touched the shore of Ozamaland. Beyond the Nobles and natives Roger could see row on row of white guards mounted on enormous white elephants and snow-white camels.

"Trouble, trouble, nothing but trouble!" mourned the Read Bird drearily to himself. Tandy, familiar with the whole coast, guided Nikobo to the only possible spot for landing and, grunting and mumbling, the hippopotamus hauled herself up on the rocks, glancing sharply and suspiciously at the little boy's subjects. A narrow path wound and curved up through the cliffs and, puffing and panting, Nikobo finally made her way to the top, where she stood uncertainly facing the milling multitude.

"Hail and greetings!" called Samuel Salt, raising his arm to attract their attention, for the crowd looked both dangerous and unfriendly. "We are here to return to you safe and sound your lost King, Tazander Tazah, rescued by us from the wild jungle of Patrippany Island."

"King? King?" shrilled a dozen shrill and unbelieving voices. "Where? Where?" and everyone craned his neck to get a better view of Nikobo and her three curious riders. "Is it really our lost and stolen Kinglet?"

"Yes!" cried Tandy, springing erect. "I am Tazander Tazah, King's son and son of a King's son. You are my lawful subjects and Ozamaland is my Kingdom!" A little shiver of excitement ran through the crowd at these words.

"He does in truth resemble our young ruler," murmured one Noble to another, "though much stronger and more bold." Drawing a long sword, he waved it imperiously above his head. "Summon the Ozamandarins," he called loudly. "They will decide whether this be our King or some small Impostor, and DEATH to all strangers and enemies who come in ships to lay waste our realm."

"Oh, hold your tongue!" advised Ato, settling himself more comfortably between Nikobo's shoulders. "Who are you to challenge the Royal Explorer of Oz, the King of the Octagon Isle—"

"And his Royal Read Bird," piped Roger, flying savagely round and round the head of the speaker.

"Yes, who are you to challenge the rightful ruler of Ozamaland?" cried Tandy, folding his arms and gazing calmly out over the curious throng.

"Hi, is this the young slip they kept locked in the tower? Hoo, Hoo!" yelled an old tribesman, brandishing his long lance. "He's the salt of the sea and the sand of the desert. Shame on you, Zamen, not to recognize and welcome your young King. I'm for you, young one, down to my last breath!" In spite of these brave words, the nobles, natives and guards made no move or motion to let Nikobo pass through. Then suddenly there was a break in the crowd and the nine square-hatted Ozamandarins stepped rigidly forward. And nine taller, thinner, meaner-visaged rogues, decided Samuel, lovingly fingering his scimiter, it had never been his misfortune to encounter. Didjabo, recognizing Tandy at once in spite of his new and seaman-like bearing, was the first to speak.

"The blessing of the stars, moon and sun upon you!" cried the wily chief, bowing rapidly ten times in succession, "And upon these strangers who have brought you safely back to these shores! Welcome, most welcome, small King and ruler of the Ozamanders!" Speaking calmly but with black fury in his heart to have his plans so unexpectedly thwarted, Didjabo advanced rapidly toward Nikobo. "And now that you are here and really safe, we must see that you are locked securely in the White Tower of the Wise Man away from all future hurt and harm!" Reaching the side of the hippopotamus, he put up his hand to help Tandy dismount.

"But I'm not going back to the Tower!" said Tandy, looking the Chief Ozamandarin straight in the eye. "Ever! I'm riding on to the castle, so kindly order some refreshments for my friends and shipmates."

"Hi, Yi, Yi!" approved the old tribesman, pounding the cliff with his lance. "Here's a King for us. What good did your Tower do before, old Square-Hat? He was carried off in spite of it, wasn't he? Well, trot along now and do as he says; he's the King, and I'm here to see he gets his rights!" Shocked by the determination in Tandy's voice and the evident delight of the crowd at his defiance, Didjabo put up his hand for silence.

"It is the law of the land that the nine Ozamandarins shall guard the life and preserve the health of the country's sovereign," stated Didjabo in his cold and impressive voice. "Until this boy becomes of age he must be cared for and protected from his enemies. Forward, guards! On to the Tower! You OTHERS!" Didjabo nodded disagreeably at Samuel Salt, Ato, Roger and Nikobo, "You others may return to your ship, where a suitable reward will be sent out to you. We are deeply indebted to you for finding our King, but the law of Ozamaland says that all foreigners landing on our shores shall instantly and without delay be flung over the cliffs. In your case we graciously permit you to leave. Come, Tazander!"

While Samuel Salt could not help admiring the way the old Ozamandarin was trying to keep the upper hand, he had no intention of leaving till he had assured himself that Tandy was in safe and proper hands. "But surely you will wish to hear the story of how we found this boy and explain how he happened to be on that jungle island!" observed Samuel mildly. "Step back, my good fellow, Nikobo has large feet and she just might happen to tread on you."

"Yes," wheezed Nikobo sullenly, "I just might happen to do that very thing." Slipping round to the other side of the hippopotamus, Didjabo, paying no attention to either remark, tried to pull Tandy to the ground. But the little boy, remembering Roger's advice about lubbers gave him a fast and sudden poke in the nose that sent his hat flying off and the Ozamandarin himself rolling head over heels.

"Hurray, Hurray! Avast and belay! And down with old Square-Hats forever!" shrilled the Read Bird, while Ato and Samuel exchanged a proud and pleased glance. While the other Ozamandarins stood uncertainly, the crowd, long weary of the rigid rule of the nine judges, began to laugh and cheer.

"The King is King! Long live the King!" shouted the old tribesman vociferously.

But Didjabo pulling himself furiously to his feet, flung up his arm. "Guards! Guards!" he screeched venomously, "Do your work! Save this poor, misguided child from these unspeakable foreigners or we are all lost. Can you not see they are savages, sorcerers and enemies? Seize the King and over the cliff with these hippopotamic invaders!"


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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