Zella, however, had no more than time to turn her head when a thick swarm of bees surrounded her, angry because they had caught her stealing their honey and intent on stinging the girl as a punishment. She knew her danger and expected to be badly injured by the multitude of stinging bees, but to her surprise the little creatures were unable to fly close enough to her to stick their dart-like stingers into her flesh. They swarmed about her in a dark cloud, and their angry buzzing was terrible to hear, yet the little girl remained unharmed.
When she realized this, Zella was no longer afraid but continued to ladle out the honey until she had secured all that was in the tree. Then she returned to the cabin, where her mother was weeping and bemoaning the fate of her darling child, and the good woman was greatly astonished to find Zella had escaped injury.
Again they went to the woods to search for honey, and although the mother always ran away whenever the bees came near them, Zella paid no attention to the creatures but kept at her work, so that before supper time came the pails were again filled to overflowing with delicious honey.
“With such good fortune as we have had this day,” said her mother, “we shall soon gather enough honey for you to carry to Queen Cor.” For it seems the wicked Queen was very fond of honey and it had been Zella’s custom to go, once every year, to the City of Coregos, to carry the Queen a supply of sweet honey for her table. Usually she had but one pail.
“But now,” said Zella, “I shall be able to carry two pailsful to the Queen, who will, I am sure, give me a good price for it.”
“True,” answered her mother, “and, as the boy Prince may take it into his head to conquer Coregos, as well as Regos, I think it best for you to start on your journey to Queen Cor tomorrow morning. Do you not agree with me, Nikobob?” she added, turning to her husband, the charcoal-burner, who was eating his supper.
“I agree with you,” he replied. “If Zella must go to the City of Coregos, she may as well start to-morrow morning.”
Chapter Ten - The Cunning of Queen Cor
*
You may be sure the Queen of Coregos was not well pleased to have King Gos and all his warriors living in her city after they had fled from their own. They were savage natured and quarrelsome men at all times, and their tempers had not improved since their conquest by the Prince of Pingaree. Moreover, they were eating up Queen Cor’s provisions and crowding the houses of her own people, who grumbled and complained until their Queen was heartily tired.
“Shame on you!” she said to her husband, King Gos, “to be driven out of your city by a boy, a roly-poly King and a billy goat! Why do you not go back and fight them?”
“No human can fight against the powers of magic,” returned the King in a surly voice. “That boy is either a fairy or under the protection of fairies. We escaped with our lives only because we were quick to run away; but, should we return to Regos, the same terrible power that burst open the city gates would crush us all to atoms.”
“Bah! you are a coward,” cried the Queen, tauntingly.
“I am not a coward,” said the big King. “I have killed in battle scores of my enemies; by the might of my sword and my good right arm I have conquered many nations; all my life people have feared me. But no one would dare face the tremendous power of the Prince of Pingaree, boy though he is. It would not be courage, it would be folly, to attempt it.”
“Then meet his power with cunning,” suggested the Queen. “Take my advice, and steal over to Regos at night, when it is dark, and capture or destroy the boy while he sleeps.”
“No weapon can touch his body,” was the answer. “He bears a charmed life and cannot be injured.”
“Does the fat King possess magic powers, or the goat?” inquired Cor.
“I think not,” said Gos. “We could not injure them, indeed, any more than we could the boy, but they did not seem to have any unusual strength, although the goat’s head is harder than a battering-ram.”
“Well,” mused the Queen, “there is surely some way to conquer that slight boy. If you are afraid to undertake the job, I shall go myself. By some stratagem I shall manage to make him my prisoner. He will not dare to defy a Queen, and no magic can stand against a woman’s cunning.”
“Go ahead, if you like,” replied the King, with an evil grin, “and if you are hung up by the thumbs or cast into a dungeon, it will serve you right for thinking you can succeed where a skilled warrior dares not make the attempt.”
“I’m not afraid,” answered the Queen. “It is only soldiers and bullies who are cowards.”
In spite of this assertion, Queen Cor was not so brave as she was cunning. For several days she thought over this plan and that, and tried to decide which was most likely to succeed. She had never seen the boy Prince but had heard so many tales of him from the defeated warriors, and especially from Captain Buzzub, that she had learned to respect his power.
Spurred on by the knowledge that she would never get rid of her unwelcome guests until Prince Inga was overcome and Regos regained for King Gos, the Queen of Coregos finally decided to trust to luck and her native wit to defeat a simple-minded boy, however powerful he might be. Inga could not suspect what she was going to do, because she did not know herself. She intended to act boldly and trust to chance to win.
It is evident that had the cunning Queen known that Inga had lost all his magic, she would not have devoted so much time to the simple matter of capturing him, but like all others she was impressed by the marvelous exhibition of power he had shown in capturing Regos, and had no reason to believe the boy was less powerful now.
One morning Queen Cor boldly entered a boat, and, taking four men with her as an escort and bodyguard, was rowed across the narrow channel to Regos. Prince Inga was sitting in the palace playing checkers with King Rinkitink when a servant came to him, saying that Queen Cor had arrived and desired an audience with him.
With many misgivings lest the wicked Queen discover that he had now lost his magic powers, the boy ordered her to be admitted, and she soon entered the room and bowed low before him, in mock respect.
Cor was a big woman, almost as tall as King Gos. She had flashing black eyes and the dark complexion you see on gypsies. Her temper, when irritated, was something dreadful, and her face wore an evil expression which she tried to cover by smiling sweetly—often when she meant the most mischief.
“I have come,” said she in a low voice, “to render homage to the noble Prince of Pingaree. I am told that Your Highness is the strongest person in the world, and invincible in battle, and therefore I wish you to become my friend, rather than my enemy.”
Now Inga did not know how to reply to this speech. He disliked the appearance of the woman and was afraid of her and he was unused to deception and did not know how to mask his real feelings. So he took time to think over his answer, which he finally made in these words:
“I have no quarrel with Your Majesty, and my only reason for coming here is to liberate my father and mother, and my people, whom you and your husband have made your slaves, and to recover the goods King Gos has plundered from the Island of Pingaree. This I hope soon to accomplish, and if you really wish to be my friend, you can assist me greatly.”
While he was speaking Queen Cor had been studying the boy’s face stealthily, from the corners of her eyes, and she said to herself: “He is so small and innocent that I believe I can capture him alone, and with ease. He does not seem very terrible and I suspect that King Gos and his warriors were frightened at nothing.”
Then, aloud, she said to Inga:
“I wish to invite you, mighty Prince, and your friend, the great King of Gilgad, to visit my poor palace at Coregos, where all my people shall do you honor. Will you come?”
“At present,” replied Inga, uneasily, “I must refuse your kind invitation.”
“There will be feasting, and dancing girls, and games and fireworks,” said the Queen, speaking as if eager to entice him and at each word coming a step nearer to where he stood
.
“I could not enjoy them while my poor parents are slaves,” said the boy, sadly.
“Are you sure of that?” asked Queen Cor, and by that time she was close beside Inga. Suddenly she leaned forward and threw both of her long arms around Inga’s body, holding him in a grasp that was like a vise.
Now Rinkitink sprang forward to rescue his friend, but Cor kicked out viciously with her foot and struck the King squarely on his stomach—a very tender place to be kicked, especially if one is fat. Then, still hugging Inga tightly, the Queen called aloud:
“I’ve got him! Bring in the ropes.”
Instantly the four men she had brought with her sprang into the room and bound the boy hand and foot. Next they seized Rinkitink, who was still rubbing his stomach, and bound him likewise.
With a laugh of wicked triumph, Queen Cor now led her captives down to the boat and returned with them to Coregos.
Great was the astonishment of King Gos and his warriors when they saw that the mighty Prince of Pingaree, who had put them all to flight, had been captured by a woman. Cowards as they were, they now crowded around the boy and jeered at him, and some of them would have struck him had not the Queen cried out:
“Hands off! He is my prisoner, remember not yours.”
“Well, Cor, what are you going to do with him?” inquired King Gos.
“I shall make him my slave, that he may amuse my idle hours. For he is a pretty boy, and gentle, although he did frighten all of you big warriors so terribly.”
The King scowled at this speech, not liking to be ridiculed, but he said nothing more. He and his men returned that same day to Regos, after restoring the bridge of boats. And they held a wild carnival of rejoicing, both in the King’s palace and in the city, although the poor people of Regos who were not warriors were all sorry that the kind young Prince had been captured by his enemies and could rule them no longer.
When her unwelcome guests had all gone back to Regos and the Queen was alone in her palace, she ordered Inga and Rinkitink brought before her and their bonds removed. They came sadly enough, knowing they were in serious straits and at the mercy of a cruel mistress. Inga had taken counsel of the White Pearl, which had advised him to bear up bravely under his misfortune, promising a change for the better very soon. With this promise to comfort him, Inga faced the Queen with a dignified bearing that indicated both pride and courage.
“Well, youngster,” said she, in a cheerful tone because she was pleased with her success, “you played a clever trick on my poor husband and frightened him badly, but for that prank I am inclined to forgive you. Hereafter I intend you to be my page, which means that you must fetch and carry for me at my will. And let me advise you to obey my every whim without question or delay, for when I am angry I become ugly, and when I am ugly someone is sure to feel the lash. Do you understand me?”
Inga bowed, but made no answer. Then she turned to Rinkitink and said:
“As for you, I cannot decide how to make you useful to me, as you are altogether too fat and awkward to work in the fields. It may be, however, that I can use you as a pincushion.
“What!” cried Rinkitink in horror, “would you stick pins into the King of Gilgad?”
“Why not?” returned Queen Cor. “You are as fat as a pincushion, as you must yourself admit, and whenever I needed a pin I could call you to me.” Then she laughed at his frightened look and asked: “By the way, are you ticklish?”
This was the question Rinkitink had been dreading. He gave a moan of despair and shook his head.
“I should love to tickle the bottom of your feet with a feather,” continued the cruel woman. “Please take off your shoes.”
“Oh, your Majesty!” pleaded poor Rinkitink, “I beg you to allow me to amuse you in some other way. I can dance, or I can sing you a song.”
“Well,” she answered, shaking with laughter, “you may sing a song—if it be a merry one. But you do not seem in a merry mood.”
“I feel merry—indeed, Your Majesty, I do!” protested Rinkitink, anxious to escape the tickling. But even as he professed to “feel merry” his round, red face wore an expression of horror and anxiety that was realty comical.
“Sing, then!” commanded Queen Cor, who was greatly amused.
Rinkitink gave a sigh of relief and after clearing his throat and trying to repress his sobs he began to sing this song-gently, at first, but finally roaring it out at the top of his voice:
“Oh!
There was a Baby Tiger lived in a men-ag-er-ie—
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy—they wouldn’t set him free;
And ev’rybody thought that he was gentle as could be—
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy—Ba-by Ti-ger!
“Oh!
They patted him upon his head and shook him by the paw—
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy—he had a bone to gnaw;
But soon he grew the biggest Tiger that you ever saw—
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy—what a Ti-ger!
“Oh!
One day they came to pet the brute and he began to fight—
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy-how he did scratch and bite!
He broke the cage and in a rage he darted out of sight—
Fizzy-fezzy-fuzzy was a Ti-ger!”
“And is there a moral to the song?” asked Queen Cor, when King Rinkitink had finished his song with great spirit.
“If there is,” replied Rinkitink, “it is a warning not to fool with tigers.”
The little Prince could not help smiling at this shrewd answer, but Queen Cor frowned and gave the King a sharp look.
“Oh,” said she; “I think I know the difference between a tiger and a lapdog. But I’ll bear the warning in mind, just the same.”
For, after all her success in capturing them, she was a little afraid of these people who had once displayed such extraordinary powers.
Chapter Eleven - Zella Goes to Coregos
*
The forest in which Nikobob lived with his wife and daughter stood between the mountains and the City of Regos, and a well-beaten path wound among the trees, leading from the city to the mines. This path was used by the King’s messengers, and captured prisoners were also sent by this way from Regos to work in the underground caverns.
Nikobob had built his cabin more than a mile away from this path, that he might not be molested by the wild and lawless soldiers of King Gos, but the family of the charcoal-burner was surrounded by many creatures scarcely less dangerous to encounter, and often in the night they could hear savage animals growling and prowling about the cabin. Because Nikobob minded his own business and never hunted the wild creatures to injure them, the beasts had come to regard him as one of the natural dwellers in the forest and did not molest him or his family. Still Zella and her mother seldom wandered far from home, except on such errands as carrying honey to Coregos, and at these times Nikobob cautioned them to be very careful.
So when Zella set out on her journey to Queen Cor, with the two pails of honey in her hands, she was undertaking a dangerous adventure and there was no certainty that she would return safely to her loving parents. But they were poor, and Queen Cor’s money, which they expected to receive for the honey, would enable them to purchase many things that were needed; so it was deemed best that Zella should go. She was a brave little girl and poor people are often obliged to take chances that rich ones are spared.
A passing woodchopper had brought news to Nikobob’s cabin that Queen Cor had made a prisoner of the conquering Prince of Pingaree and that Gos and his warriors were again back in their city of Regos; but these struggles and conquests were matters which, however interesting, did not concern the poor charcoal-burner or his family. They were more anxious over the report that the warriors had become more reckless than ever before, and delighted in annoying all the common people; so Zella was told to keep away from the beaten path as much as possible, that she might not encounter any of the King’s soldiers.
“When it is necessary to choose between the warrio
rs and the wild beasts,” said Nikobob, “the beasts will be found the more merciful.”
The little girl had put on her best attire for the journey and her mother threw a blue silk shawl over her head and shoulders. Upon her feet were the pretty red shoes her father had brought her from Regos. Thus prepared, she kissed her parents good-bye and started out with a light heart, carrying the pails of honey in either hand.
It was necessary for Zella to cross the path that led from the mines to the city, but once on the other side she was not likely to meet with anyone, for she had resolved to cut through the forest and so reach the bridge of boats without entering the City of Regos, where she might be interrupted. For an hour or two she found the walking easy enough, but then the forest, which in this part was unknown to her, became badly tangled. The trees were thicker and creeping vines intertwined between them. She had to turn this way and that to get through at all, and finally she came to a place where a network of vines and branches effectually barred her farther progress.
Zella was dismayed, at first, when she encountered this obstacle, but setting down her pails she made an endeavor to push the branches aside. At her touch they parted as if by magic, breaking asunder like dried twigs, and she found she could pass freely. At another place a great log had fallen across her way, but the little girl lifted it easily and cast it aside, although six ordinary men could scarcely have moved it.
The child was somewhat worried at this evidence of a strength she had heretofore been ignorant that she possessed. In order to satisfy herself that it was no delusion, she tested her new-found power in many ways, finding that nothing was too big nor too heavy for her to lift. And, naturally enough, the girl gained courage from these experiments and became confident that she could protect herself in any emergency. When, presently, a wild boar ran toward her, grunting horribly and threatening her with its great tusks, she did not climb a tree to escape, as she had always done before on meeting such creatures, but stood still and faced the boar. When it had come quite close and Zella saw that it could not injure her—a fact that astonished both the beast and the girl—she suddenly reached down and seizing it by one ear threw the great beast far off amongst the trees, where it fell headlong to the earth, grunting louder than ever with surprise and fear.