CHAPTER 4
The Baffled Bandits

I’m so disappointed I could cry, blubbered the robber chief, pulling out his red handkerchief. Shake them again Skally, shake them hard! Before him on the ground lay the few possessions of Grampa and Tatters—an old silver watch, the four-pence, a rusty pen knife and two copper medals. The chief had recovered from the terrible blow of the cast iron weather cock, but had a large black lump over one eye. Bill, who insisted on crowing in a dozen different keys, had been muffled in the bandit’s cloak and put under a rock.

I told you they were a poor lot, sniffed Skally, but nevertheless, he seized first Grampa and then Tatters and shook them violently by the heels. This he could easily do, being eight feet tall and exceedingly muscular. Two red gum drops rolled out of Grampa’s pocket, but that was all.

And they’re not even frightened, complained the bandit in a grieved voice, as Skally set the two roughly on their feet.

Frightened! puffed Grampa indignantly. (After the two terrible shakings he had only breath enough to puff.) You didn’t think a flock of bush-whacking bandits like you could frighten an old soldier like me, and a young Prince like Tatters, did you?

Prince! gasped the bandit, blinking at Tatters through the smoke of the wood fire, while the rest of the outlaws began to slap their knees and roar with merriment.

Yes, Prince, shrilled Grampa, and don’t make faces at me, you ugly villain.

Well! roared the chief, after another long look at Tatters, he may be a Prince to his mother, but he’s a pain in the eye to me!

Then shut your eyes, advised Grampa promptly. I’d do it for you if I were not tied up. In a fair fight I’d beat you any day.

We’ve taken everything they have. Shall we hang them or let them go? asked Skally in a bored voice.

No you haven’t, screamed Grampa defiantly. No you haven’t. Take my picture you scoundrel! Take my rheumatism! Take my advice and clear out of this forest before I report you to the Princess of Oz.

Even Prince Tatters, who really was frightened at the fierce appearance of the bandit, had to laugh a little at the surprised expression on the chief’s face as the old soldier continued to stamp and scold. And the more Grampa scolded the more cheerful the bandit became.

He reminds me of my old father, he remarked in an admiring undertone to Skally.

Does your old father know you’re a bandit? shouted Grampa sternly, holding up honest adventurers and getting your living by breaking the law?

Father always told me to take things easy, replied the chief, popping one of Grampa’s gum drops into his mouth. Vaga, he said to me over and over again, always take things easy, my boy, and I do, grinned the robber wickedly. But business is mighty slow in this forest lately. Kings and Princes are getting poorer and poorer every day. Look at him! He waved scornfully at Tatters. Not worth a shoe button and the whole week it has been the same story. All we got to-day was a wizard, but he was as false as his whiskers—couldn’t even change leaves to gold or sticks to precious stones. All he had with him was a bottle of patent medicine. Now medicine, yawned Vaga, touching with his boot a long green bottle that lay with a heap of rubbish near the fire, is something I never take.

But I thought wizards were not allowed to practice magic in Oz, put in Tatters, surprised into speech by the bandit’s last statement. It’s against the law isn’t it?

So are bandits! roared Yaga. But I’m here just the same, my boy, taking things easy, and when I’ve saved up enough I’m going to open an Inn and take things easier still.

Another way to rob honest travellers, groaned the old soldier, but now, as you’ve taken our four-pence and our time, untie these bonds and we’ll return to our camp.

Let him tell his story, suggested Skally, it might entertain us and they certainly owe us something for all this trouble.

No, I’ve decided to make outlaws of them, announced Yaga calmly. The old one is a fine fighter and can be a father to me; the young one would frighten anybody; as for the cast iron bird it can be melted up into bullets.

What shall we do now? whispered Tatters, seizing Grampa’s arm. The old soldier winked encouragingly.

Not bad at all, he murmured aloud, as if he were half pleased at the idea of being a bandit. Plenty of fighting and it’s as good a way as any to make a fortune. Swear us in Mr Vagabandit, swear us in my son!

The bandit chief was surprised and overjoyed at Grampa’s change of heart. He immediately ordered Skally to untie the captives. Each was given a black mask and a dagger and, having raised their hands and solemnly agreed to break every law in Oz, they were welcomed with cheers and shouts into the outlaw band. After the excitement had died down, they all gathered about the fire and Grampa told them the history of Ragbad, how he had got his game leg and of the nine hundred and eighty great battles he had fought in. The bandits listened attentively at first, but the old soldier’s recital was so long that presently one and then another of the bandits fell asleep, and by the time Grampa had reached the nine hundredth battle the whole company lay sprawled about the fire, snoring like good fellows instead of bad ones. Prince Tatters, his head on the skin of the old thread bear, was asleep too.

More ways than one of winning a battle, chuckled the old soldier, smiling behind his whiskers. First, he recovered his watch, medals and the four-pence. They were still on the ground beside Vaga. Protruding from the robber’s pocket was a rough blue pouch. Very carefully the old soldier drew it out. This will pay for the shakings, said Grampa, stowing it away in his game leg. I’ll sample the scoundrel’s tobacco when we’re well out of this. As he straightened up the long, green bottle of patent medicine caught his eye. I’ll take this along too, he muttered, sticking it in his pocket. Maybe it will help my rheumatism.

The fire had died down and it was so dark and forbidding in the blue forest that Grampa decided to snatch a few hours’ rest before making an escape. Stretching unconcernedly beside long-legged Skally he fell into a deep and peaceful slumber. And so well trained was this old campaigner that in two hours, exactly, he awoke. The sun had not yet risen, but in the dim grey light of early morning Grampa could make out the forms of the sleeping bandits. Stepping softly, so as not to waken them, he touched Tatters on the shoulder. The Prince started up in alarm, but when Grampa, with fingers to his lips, motioned for him to come he seized his red umbrella and tip-toed after him.

Have I lived to this age to be an old father to a bandit? puffed Grampa indignantly as they hurried along. He shook his fist over his shoulder. Farther and farther away is what I’ll be. Grampa laughed a little at his joke. But we can’t go without Bill, he muttered suddenly, as they passed the rock under which the robbers had thrust the valiant weather cock. With some difficulty they lifted off the rock and, first whispering strict orders for silence, unwound Bill from the various coats and cloaks. Then Tatters, fearing the creak of Bill’s wings would arouse the bandits, stuck him under one arm.

Wish I knew where they kept their supplies, whispered the old soldier as they pushed on through the heavy underbrush and made their way around gnarled old trees. My teeth need some exercise.

What a dreadful lot of crows there are in this forest, mused the Prince, who had scarcely heard Grampa’s last remark. Why the trees are black with them!

Well, do you expect me to eat crow? sniffed the old soldier, waving his sword to disperse a flock of the birds that were circling around his head.

No, but— Tatters got no further, for at that instant crows of an entirely different nature made them both leap into the air. The sun had risen and as the first rays penetrated into the dim forest Bill flew out of Tatters’ arms and, perching on a low branch, burst into such a brazen clamor of cock-a-doodle-doos that the whole forest rang with it.

Hush! Halt! Stop that alarm! gasped Grampa. Now, you’ve done it!

Oh, Bill, how could you! groaned the Prince. Snatching off the skin of the thread bear, he flung it over the iron weather cock and seizing him unceremoniously began to run after Grampa. They had already put a goodly distance between themselves and the bandits, but a few minutes after Bill’s crowing shots came echoing through the wood and the next instant they could hear the outlaws crashing through the brush. They sounded like a herd of elephants.

We’ll have to hide, panted the old soldier. Here, crawl into this hollow tree. Without a moment’s hesitation, Grampa dove into the tree himself and Tatters, taking a firmer hold on Bill and the red umbrella, followed.