Yankee in Oz, Page 2

  "What's this?" inquired Yankee, sniffing suspiciously at the mossy stones built up around the opening.

  "A well, and that means water!" explained Tompy briefly. Seizing the crank that operated the rusty chain he began turning it briskly. With echoing groans and creaks the bucket began to rise.

  "Hurry! Hurry!" begged Yankee, dancing with impatience. "I'm thirsty enough to drink a river." With a last hard turn, Tompy brought the brimming bucket to the top and was about to lift it down when he noticed some printing on the side.

  "Welcome Well!" announced the message. Who drinks of these waters shall be cured of all ills and be WELL, indeed."

  "Well, well and good!" chuckled Tompy, reading the friendly greeting aloud. "So what are we waiting for?"

  "You first." Yankee gulped convulsively as Tompy drew a brimming dipperful and drank it thirstily.

  "Golly day! I do feel better, not tired at all. Boy, was that ever good." Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, Tompy lifted the bucket down for Yankee, who gulped and gulped till it was half empty. When at last he had had his fill, Tompy's heart gave a great thump of relief. There was a new light and sparkle in the space dog's amber eyes.

  "Just what I needed, Gruff-ruff. I feel great!" exclaimed Yankee. "Boy, if I felt any better I couldn't stand it. What kind of water was that anyway?"

  "Search me," answered Tompy with a shrug, "but if that message was correct, you are now in fine shape and have thrown off all ill effects of your rocket ride. You'll have to admit this is a funny country, though."

  Yankee made no reply, for snuffling around in the bucket, he found a round metal box. Lifting it out with his teeth, he tossed it high in the air.

  "Be careful," warned Tompy, catching it as it came down. "Could be a bomb or something."

  "Probably some vitamin pills," scoffed the terrier, taking another long drink from the bucket, as Tompy carefully examined the little box. "One to a person," directed the label on the box top.

  "Well I'm not a person. I'm a dog, so give me two," Yankee grinned widely as Tompy snapped up the lid. It was full of small envelopes. "Turn right," said the card shortly.

  "But that's all wrong," objected Yankee, as Tompy read out the card. "Due east is straight ahead. See what's on mine?"

  "Turn left," ordered the second card.

  "Left? I'll do nothing of the kind," snarled the terrier. Snatching the card, Yankee ground it underfoot and then buried it for good measure. "Go different ways; not on your life. I've never had a boy before and I aim to stick with him till we get back to the good old U.S.A. Hay! Hay!"

  "I've never had a dog either," cried Tompy, tossing his card over his shoulder, "but if I did have one, I'd want him to be exactly like you--you're the best dog a fellow could have, Yanky Dank,know that!"

  "Grrr-rr! Wuff woooOOOO!" Leaping up to lick Tompy on the ear and furiously wagging his tail, Yankee bounded forward. "Come on, then. We'll follow my nose and stay together no matter what!"

  "No matter what," repeated Tompy, hurrying after his self-appointed guide. Zig-zagging left and right, the space dog galloped along so fast Tompy had to run to keep him in sight. "Hi--take it easy," he puffed, pushing through a mass of brush. Yankee already had stopped and standing on his hind legs was staring intently at a sign nailed to a yellow pine. "Wackajammy, two ellenboggers ahead," read Tompy. "Now, how far would that be?"

  "Who cares," yipped Yankee, dropping to all fours. "Let's take a whack at it. Maybe they'll give us something to eat. I'm hungry enough to chew bark."

  "Me, too," sighed Tompy, patting his middle, "so the sooner we get there the better." Ten minutes brought them to the edge of the woods and right to the edge of a billowing expanse of wheat that stretched on as far as the eye could reach. Cutting through the wheat and almost as if planned for their convenience was a yellow pebbled highway.

  "Well, I must say this is more civilized," conceded Yankee, stepping gingerly out on the pebbled pathway.

  "Could be a trap," worried Tompy following him cautiously. "Suppose we run into a bevy of natives brandishing spears?"

  "Natives brandishing spears would not be raising this fine grain nor have built this neat roadway," argued Yankee. "Doubtless they are fine people who will welcome us with open arms and a splendid lunch. Give out with the drum, boy, so they'll know we're coming. A one--a two--a! Tap ter rappa ta tappa ta tap!" Stiff legging it on ahead, Yankee tossed occasional comments over his shoulder. "I am a friendly fellow, usually," observed the space dog solemnly. "So long as people are friendly, I am friendly. If they are not, I spring sideways and knock 'em down. I show my teeth and growl. Now, my advice to you, Tomp, is this--if you meet someone bigger than you and they start roughing it up, stick out your foot!" Closing one eye, Yankee resumed his forward march.

  "Ha ha--stick out your foot! I'll remember that. But let's try being friendly first, shall we? Golly, this path is widening out. Take a look!"

  "The reception committee," muttered the terrier, stopping short with one foot still in the air. The pebbled pathway had indeed widened out. A vast, grassy park, surrounding a handsome yellow castle rose like a mirage before their eyes. Drawn up before the castle an imposing array of dignitaries silently regarded them. Clad in yellow silk jersey jackets and jeans with green leather belts, wearing green leather gold buckled pumps they were as handsome a lot as the boy or dog had ever seen. Men and women alike had bright yellow hair drawn back and caught on top of their heads with golden rings. The men's hair ended in a waving brush, the women's in shining pony tails that reached far below the waist. As the silence continued, Yankee, growing restive, barked sharply. Covering their ears, the entire company began moving backwards.

  "Oh, now you've frightened them," whispered Tompy. "Say something. Say something quickly."

  "Company HALT!" bawled Yankee in a loud but pleasant voice. To Tompy's surprise, they did halt. Then the tallest of the group stepped forward and graciously raised his scepter, a long, long loaf of bread. As the gold ring holding back his hair was wider than the others and studded with jewels, Tompy immediately decided that this was the top man. His first words proved that he was right.

  "I am King Jack-a-lack of Wackajammy," announced the slender ruler with a gracious wave of his scepter. "Welcome, boy, and--and animal," finished the king after a long, curious look at the bull terrier.

  "This is Yankee, an American Air Force dog," explained Tompy hastily, "very smart, very friendly."

  "Hi-yi! I love EVERYBODY!" yelped Yankee with an exuberant leap forward. The leap was so unexpected and forceful it knocked the startled monarch flat. Nothing daunted, Yankee began frantically licking his face from chin to forehead.

  "But--but--nobody loves a king," sputtered Jack-a-lack, as two of his courtiers pulled him quickly to his feet.

  "Well, I do," insisted the terrier, only prevented from a second leap by the restraining hand of Tompy on his harness.

  "Now, now, I'm sure that is very nice," mumbled his Majesty with an uneasy step backward. "We have been expecting you, you know. Hand me that scroll, Teena." With a flashing smile, the handsome girl beside Jack-a-lack pulled a thin parchment scroll from her pocket and handed it over to the king. Opening the scroll he read slowly and distinctly the following words: "Two daring and intrepid travelers from a far and famous land will find and rescue the Princess Doffi."

  "That's us all right," said Yankee with a complacent glance at Tompy.

  "But I don't understand," put in Tompy. "How could you know we were coming when. we did not even know it ourselves?"

  "Because Yammer Jammer, Chief Counselor of the realm, has so prognosticated. Yammer never yet has been wrong," stated the king rolling up the scroll. Completely unconvinced, Tompy said nothing.

  "Just who is this Princess?" inquired Yankee, coming practically to the point.

  "My aunt," the king told him solemnly. "Aunt Doffi manages this whole country and nothing has gone right since she disappeared. Only Aunt Doffi knows the secret recipes for our famous br
ead, cakes, biscuits, and pies, the proper time to plant our wheat, and the best days for harvesting. She tells us what to do about everything. I-tell-you, without Aunt Doffi we are completely lost."

  "How long has she been gone?" asked Tompy, interested in spite of himself.

  "One week, today," sighed the king, rolling his eyes mournfully. "Just left--disappeared--vanished without a trace."

  "Now, I wouldn't worry too much," advised Yankee, making a snatch at a yellow fly. "You probably worked the old girl too hard, King dear, she has simply gone off on a short vacation."

  "She is not an OLD girl," stated Jack-a-lack wagging his finger sternly. "Aunt Doffi is a lovely lady and also a princess. Never, never would she have left us willingly."

  "Oh, all right, all right, say she is--" answered the terrier, "but after all, Jack, you are the ruler here; why not start acting like one? Never heard of an aunt running a kingdom, did you, Tomp?"

  "I thought--I thought you loved me," sniffed Jack-a-lack, looking ready to cry.

  "Oh, I do, I do!" Lunging forward, Yankee gave the king's hand a conciliatory lick. "But I must say, you are making it pretty hard. There, there, now," he added quickly, as the king's face grew longer and longer. "We'll find your Aunt Doffi, but first we must have something to eat, so we'll be in good shape for the journey."

  "Hear! Hear! Thirty-three cheers!" shouted the courtiers tossing their yellow locks. In the confusion and excitement, Tompy managed a few words with his wily companion.

  "Good for you, Yank. That's a neat idea. We'll agree to anything til we've had a good lunch. Then we'll be off like a flash. It will be hard enough to find our own way home without stopping to hunt for lost aunties."

  "Maybe she's hiding in an aunt hill," snickered the terrier capering after Jack-a-lack who was waving them into the yellow castle. Adding his drum taps to the resounding cheers, Tompy followed on the double.

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  Chapter 3: In the Yellow Castle

  TOMPY never had been in a castle before and darted quick glances left and right as they passed through the great glass doors into the main hall. There were heavy damask curtains at the tall windows; latticed screens, carved light wood chairs, cushioned sofas, gold topped tables stood invitingly about. A yellow fountain sprayed up in the center, the floor was tiled, each square of exquisite design and workmanship in different shades of yellow and green.

  "Boy, oh boy, the base was nothing like this," marvelled Yankee, pausing to take a long drink from the fountain.

  "Nor Pennwood, either!" said Tompy, leaning down to whisper in the space dog's ear. "It's like a dream, or something."

  "Then I hope we have something to eat before we wake up," muttered the hungry terrier. "My guess is, that these wheat growers will come up with nothing but biscuits, cake, and pie!"

  Yankee guessed wrong. The royal lunch, served in a pleasant patio opening out from the hall, could not have been more appetizing. There was pie, to be sure, but it was chicken pie followed by hot biscuits, fresh vegetables, fruit, orange ice, and tall glasses of lemonade. Tompy and Yankee sat at a small table with Jack-a-lack and Queen Teena, the others at long tables at the side. Though he had never before dined in such style, Yankee's table manners left nothing to be desired. Seated forward on his cushioned chair, he daintily nipped up the large pieces of chicken from six pies. Skipping the vegetables and fruit he next put away six buttered biscuits, eleven sugar cookies, and then sat back well satisfied, only half listening to the occasional remarks addressed to Tompy by the king.

  "It seems to me," observed Tompy as Jack-a-lack, having finished his luncheon, leaned comfortably back in his gold armed chair, "you have served up a cracking good meal in spite of your missing Aunt Doffi."

  "Oh, our chef remembered the chicken pie recipe," explained the king, taking a sip of lemonade. "Anyone can prepare vegetables and fruit, and there was a good supply of biscuits and cookies on hand, so we manage we manage. But what of our customers?" sighed the king, shaking head sadly. "All over the West they are waiting for their fresh bread, cake, biscuits, and pies."

  "I still think you could get on by yourseEves," volunteered Yankee, raising one paw. "Why not run the place yourself, King?"

  "Why should I?" asked Jack-a-lack fretfully. "It's hard work and would take all of my time. Why should we get on without Aunt Doffi when two brave and intrepid travelers have been sent to find her?"

  "True, true," muttered Yankee, wishing he had not brought up the matter. "Are there any dogs in this country, by the way?"

  "No, no, I think not," answered Jack-a-lack, startled by the quick change of subject. "Why do you ask?"

  "Just curious," admitted Yankee, blinking his eyes sleepily.

  "Your Highness has forgotten Toto," boomed a long faced, big eared fellow sitting at the next table.

  "That's right, so I have," sniffed the king, "as Yammer Jammer, our Chief Counselor, has just reminded me. There is a small dog belonging to Princess Dorothy, but they both live in the Emerald City."

  "Emerald City! Toto! Dorothy!" exclaimed Tompy, jumping up in astonishment. "But they are in OZ!"

  "Certainly they are in Oz," snapped the Chief Counselor haughtily. "Anything wrong with that?"

  "Well, no--no, not really," Tompy swallowed hastily. "Is this country in Oz, too?"

  "Where else?" smiled Jack-a-lack indulgently. "Wackajammy is in the northeastern part of the Winkie Country on the Winkie River. We grow all the wheat and supply all the baked goods for the whole West," announced the king looking around proudly.

  "You do!" Sitting down as suddenly as he had risen, Tompy reached under the table for his drum, for he felt he must have something real and familiar to hold on to.

  "Would you care to hear our story, about the United States and how we happen to be in yours?" asked Yankee, noting Tompy's confusion and trying to be of help.

  "Some other time," yawned His Majesty, shoving back his chair. "It's time for my nap and now that you have had lunch, you will doubtless be anxious to start your search for Aunt Doffi."

  "The sooner the better," agreed Tompy, rising to his feet and saluting the king with a drum stick. Tilting Yankee off his chair he hurried over to the door leading to the back gardens.

  "SUCH manners!" snarled the terrier leaping along at his side. "Listen to our story, but don't bother me with yours. You'd think they'd like to hear about a real, genuine rocket rider and a flying drummer. But, oh no--just be off about OUR business, find the missing princess, didn't even offer us a reward! Grrr-uff, I'vo a mind to go back and nip a few ankles. By the way," he added as an afterthought, "how are we to recognize this Aunt Doffi if we do happen to meet her. Perhaps I should go back and ask for her picture," worried Yankee who was really a kind-hearted fellow.

  "Let's not," decided Tompy, quickening his pace. "Let's whip around this hedge and disappear fast. I don't like the looks of that Yammer Jammer person. He positively glared at me when I started to leave."

  "He did!" exclaimed Yankee with a quick backward glance. "Well, here he comes now. Shall we stand and bite or run for our lives?"

  "Run!" directed Tompy, noting that not only the Chief Counselor but three tough guardsmen were coming after them at a furious speed. And, run they did, leaping flower beds, dodging statues and fountains and trees. Yankee, having four legs, could run faster. Like a shot he streaked through the garden, raced through its open gates and out on the pebbled highway beyond the castle. Then, hearing no footsteps pounding behind him, he came to a panting halt. Where was Tompy, what was holding him back? Three yellow guardsmen, to be exact. Almost at the gates he had been caught and overpowered.

  Controlling an impulse to pelt back and spring on all and sundry, the terrier growled under his breath, then, creeping along on the other side of a hedge followed cautiously. Down one path and another marched Yammer Jammer, Tompy, and the guards, finally stopping at a small stone guard house. Here, the first guard unlocked the door
and the other two roughly shoved Tompy inside. Then locking the door again, the first guard handed over the key to Yammer Jammer.

  "Attend, you deceitful, nefarious boy, you," hissed Yammer, putting his ugly face close to the barred window in the door. "Here you shall stay till you agree to find our princess. I shall return in two hours and shall know whether your promise is true or false."

  Pulling a yellow book from hispocket, the Chief Counselor opened it to the first page and continued angrily, "I am the king's chief prophet and can read your mind. I know what you are thinking this very instant and I don't LIKE it!" Slamming his book, Yammer turned on his heel.

  With ears cocked forward, Yankee waited til the grim procession had marched off. Then, pushing his way through the hedge, he scampered over to Tompy's prison. Even standing on his hind legs he could not reach the barred window, so scratching on the door he called softly, "Hi, Tompy, are you all right?"

  "I--I guess so!" Coming over to the window, Tompy looked out. "Where were you?" he whispered accusingly. "Oh, Yankee, I thought surely you'd come to help me.

  "I can help you better this way," panted the terrier. "Too many of 'em, my boy. If I'd joined the fracas, we'd both be locked up. As it is, I'm loose and free. I'll get you out, never fear!"

  "But HOW?" wailed Tompy dismally. "The walls are solid stone and nobody could squeeze through these bars. After all--" Tompy sighed heavily. "After all, Yank, you're only a dog."

  "But not just any dog, remember." Dropping to all fours, Yankee expanded his chest. "I am anAir Force Dog, my boy, and when any member of the armed forces is at hand, the whole Army is there and can be depended upon. I will return--"

  "O.K., General MacArthur!" said Tompy, beginning to smile in spite of himself. "Say, I'll bet you will, too, and I'm sorry I said you were only a dog."

  "Well, I am a dog!" retorted Yankee, kicking up a bed of yellow asters, "and PROUD of it. But this calls for strategy. First I'll scout around, then make my plans."