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27 - Baron Trump's Marvellous Underground Journey · Adventure Books Collection

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  Chapter twenty seven. Excitement over Fufkujaw, I carry him to the court of
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  King galidas his instant affection for the Princess Sneebul. I am accused of exercising
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  the black art. My defense and my reward anxiety of the cultiquerks. Lest
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  Fufkuja perish of hunger. This calamity averted another stares us in the face.
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  How to keep him from freezing to death? I solve the problem, but
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  draw upon me a strange misfortune. It all turned out just as I had
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  thought it would. The moment it became known that the little man with a
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  frozen smile had actually come to life, the wildest excitement prevailed in every part
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  of the icy domain of his frigid majesty. I was astounded at the change
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  in the actions of the cultiquerps. They moved more quickly, they talked faster,
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  They made more gestures than I had ever seen them do before. In
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  some cases you will hardly believe it, dear friends, I actually noticed a
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  faint glow in the cold cheeks of a few of them. I had hoped
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  to be able to bundle Foofkuja up warmly and make my escape to the ice
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  palace before the people learned of his coming to life, but in vain.
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  When I made my appearance at the door, there was a large crowd of
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  cultiqwerps pushing and pulling in front of my quarters. Most of them were good
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  natured and cried out, Show him to us, little Baron, show us
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  the little man with the frozen smile, whom thou hast brought to life.
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  Let us look upon his face. Nay nay, cultiqwerps, I exclaimed,
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  it must not be his frigid majesty, must be the first to look upon
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  Fufkuja's face. Room room for the noble guests of Royal Goalitis, and the
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  name of his frigid majesty. Give way and let me pass. The cultiquerps
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  showed no inclination to obey to such a pitch of excitement. Had they worked
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  themselves up that only upon seeing Bulger advance upon them with flashing eye and teeth
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  laid bare, did they reach the conclusion that my brave companion was in no
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  mood be trifled with. Thwarted in their wild desire to get a peep at
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  Fufkuja. The Colti Corps now began to rail at me as I passed them
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  by on my way to the ice palace. Ho Ho, master Magician,
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  Ha ha, Prince of the Black Art, Boo boo, little wizard,
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  have a care wildly, Necromancer, See to it that thou dost not practice
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  any of thy tricks of enchantment upon us. I was glad when the axe
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  bearer saw my plight and hurried forward to extricate me from the crowd of angry
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  people. King Galdas met me at the portal of his ice palace, and
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  at his heels came Princessnebel, who could hardly wait for her turn to take
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  a look at the curious living creature, which I unwrapped just enough to let
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  her see its nose. The instant Foofkuja set eyes upon the sweet face of
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  the Kurtu Whipian princess. He stretched out his little arm as a child might
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  to its mother. This sudden show of affection caused Sneebel the litheless pleasure,
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  and quickly drawing off one of her gloves, she reached out and stroked the
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  animal's head, But at the touch of those to him icy little fingers,
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  he uttered a low wail. And drew back underneath the warm pelt in which
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  he was snugly wrapped. Poor Snebul. She gave a sigh as she saw
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  him do this, but it didn't prevent her from coming every minute or so
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  and lifting one under the pelt just enough to take another look at Fufkuja,
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  who, while he never failed to cut up closer to me at sight of
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  the princess, yet invariably thrust out one of his black paws from under the
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  pelt for Snebel to shake. While seated on the dieve and nearest the throne,
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  I observed that Frosty Fizz and Glacier Boy were holding a whispered conference with
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  his frigid Majesty. All at once I guessed the subject of their conversation.
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  Rising to my feet, I made a sign that I wished to address the
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  King, and when he had dotted his head with stern and icy dignity,
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  I began to speak. You know, dear friends, how eloquent I can
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  be when the mood is upon me. Well Standing there almost upon the steps
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  of King Lydiz's throat of ice, I proceeded to defend myself against the charge
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  of being a master with a bl art. I will not tell you all
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  I said, but this was my ending. May it please your frigid majesty.
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  Here beside me stands the only magician in the case, and the only
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  art. The only trick or charm which was exercised by him was that sweet
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  power we call love. When first he set eyes upon his four footed brother
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  locked in the crystal cell of Schnebul's grotto, he pressed his nose again and
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  again against its icy wall in vain attempt to know his kinsman, and turned
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  away with a cry of sorrow to find that his keen scent could not penetrate
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  to him. I cannot tell you how great was his joy when I laid
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  Fufkuja stiff and stark upon my divan, for I knew not then the scheme
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  ripening in Bulger's mind. But later all was plain enough. The loving dog
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  leaves his master's breast and carries his true and tender heart over to where Fufkuja
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  lies, raises the pelt, crawls in beside him, and presses his warm
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  breast, firm and hard against his brother's ice locked heart, and warms him
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  into life again. Then wakes me and tells me what he hath done,
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  this royal Galidas and most noble cultiquerfs is the only art that hath been used
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  to bring fufkoujab back to life again. And to call it black is to
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  splander the sunshine rail at the lily and call the sweet breath of heaven a
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  vile and detestable thing. When I had ended my speech, I saw that
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  schnebel had been weeping, and that several of her tears stopped in their course
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  down her cheeks, hung, their sparkling like tiny diamonds in the soft light
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  of the alabaster lamps, where the chill air of Galindus's palace had turned them
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  into ice. And therefore, when his frigid majesty said that my words had
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  touched his heart and bade me ask for a gift from his hand, I
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  said, O, cold King of this fair, icy domain, let those
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  tears that now hang like tiny jewels on Schnebeul's cheeks be brushed into an alabaster
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  box and given to me. I covet no other Garridon, even if I
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  did not love the little baron, cried King Glydis with an icy smile.
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  I would be persuaded. But loving makes easy believing. Go frosty, fizz,
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  and bid one of the Princess's women brush those tiny jewels that hang on
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  Snebol's cheek into an alabaster cup and bestow them upon the little baron. Scarcely
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  had this been done, when Fufkuja thrust his head out from under the pelt,
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  and, fixing his eyes pleadingly upon me, thrust out his tongue and
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  opened and shut his mouth with a faint smacking noise. Quick as a flash,
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  it dawned upon me that those signs meant that Foofguja was hungry. And
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  then, as I suddenly remembered that the coltigroups were strictly a meat eating people,
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  that only meat was to be had in their ChIL domine quarried, almost
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  like marble itself from nature's great refrigerators. A gasp escaped my lips, and
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  I whispered, Oh, he must die, he must die. My words
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  had not missed the keen ears of Princess Niebel speak, little Baron. She
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  cried, why why must little Foufkuja die? What dost mean by such a
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  saying? And when King Galdas and Schnebel had heard me voice my fear that
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  he would die rather than feed on meat. They both became very heavy hearted.
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  Poor little foof Gujja, moaned the princess. Can it be possible that
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  he must be carried back so soon to his cristal? Sellid my grotto,
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  bid the master of my meat quarries approach the throne, cried King Galidas.
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  Suddenly, in a voice of icy dignity, this important functionary soon made his
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  appearance. Turning to me, the King bade me explain the case to him.
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  This I did in a few words, when, to the great joy
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  of all present, the master of the meat quarry spoke, as follows,
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  little Baron, if that's the only trouble, give thyself no further uneasiness,
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  for I shall at once send one of my men to thee with a supply
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  of most delicious nuts. Delicious nuts, I repeated, in a tone of
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  amazement. Why, yes, little Baron, I have a goodly supply on
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  hand. Know then, that hardly a day goes by that by men don't
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  come upon some fine specimen of the family of naurs, most generally squirrels,
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  in whose cheek pouches we in veriably be find from one to half a dozen
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  dainty nuts owed away. It has always been my custom to lay these aside,
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  and so I have to inform THEE that if Fufkujah should live to be
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  a hundred years old, I or my successor could guarantee to keep him supplied
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  with food. These words lifted a terrible load off my heart. For now,
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  at least Fufkujob would not die of starvation. For a few days everything
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  went well. The Colti corps became quite satisfied in their own minds that I
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  had not been practicing the black art in the chilly kingdom of his frigid Majesty,
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  and each and every one of them became greatly attached to the curious little
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  creature with a droll little face and droller manner. But it seemed as if
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  we were no sooner out of one trouble than we were plumped into another.
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  For now Fufkujab began to object to the attendant selected to look after him by
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  King Galitis. The man was about ten degrees too cold blooded for him,
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  and ere long it was only necessary for the CULTIQRP to approach fuff as we
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  called him for short, in order to throw him into convulsions of shivering,
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  and to cause him to utter pitiable cries of discontent, which only ceased upon
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  my appearing and comforting him by my caresses. I now set to work to
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  devise some way to make Buff's life more agreeable to him, for everybody seemed
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  to hold me responsible for his well being. Ten times a day came messengers
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  from King Galitis or from Princess Nebel, to ask how he was getting on,
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  and whether we were giving him warm enough, whether he had all he
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  wanted to eat, whether he had pelts enough on his bed. Nor was
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  it an unusual thing to have a score or more cultiqrp than Mother's call at
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  my quarters during a single day, with advice enough to last a month.
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  And therefore was it that, with a view to providing him with a warmer
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  room to sleep in, I ordered a divan fitted up for him in a
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  smaller chamber opening into mine, upon the walls of which I directed half a
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  dozen of the largest lamps to be hung. The consequence was that the walls
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  began to melt, hearing of which consternation spread throughout the icy domain of his
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  frigid majesty. For to the mind of a coltyquerpin heat powerful enough to melt
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  ice was something terrible. It was like the dread of earthquake shocked to us,
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  or the fear of flood or flame. It was something that filled their
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  hearts with such terror that in their dreams they saw the solid walls of the
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  ice Palace melt asunder and fall with a crash. They could not bear it,
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  and so King Galdus put forth a decree that if there were no other
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  way to keep foof Guja alive, then must he die. Hearing this a
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  novel, grief came upon poor Snebel's heart, for she had learned to love
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  little Fuff very dearly, and had set a knife in her breast to think
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  of losing him. Never. Never, she cried, shall I be able
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  to set foot within my grotto if fuf Guja is put back into his crystal
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  prison again, with his frozen smile on his face as once used to be.
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  And seeking out her royal father, she threw herself at his knees and
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  spoke, as follows, oh heart of Ice, O frigid majesty, let
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  not thy child die of grief. There is an easy way out of all
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  our troubles with dear little fuff Guja speak, beloved, Schneebul, answered King
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  Glyddis. Let me hear what it is. Why, cold heart, said
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  the princess. The little Baron has plenty of warmth stored away in his body.
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  He hath enough for both himself and foof Guja into the bargain. Therefore,
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  frigid Father, command that a deep warm hood be made to the little
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  Baron's coat, and that Foofkujab be placed therein and be borne about by the
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  little Baron wherever he goeth. He will soon grow accustomed to the slender burden,
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  and note it no more. It shall be as thou wishest, replied
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  the King of the Coltiquerps, and calling his trusty councilor Clesia boy, he
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  directed him to summon me at once to the throne room. When I heard
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  this terrible order issue from the icy lips of King Glyddis, my heart sank
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  within me. And yet I dared not disobey, I dared not murmur,
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  For I it was who had cleft asunder the crystal prison of the little man
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  with a frozen smile, I who had made it possible for Bolger to warm
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  him back to life again. Oh, poor vain, weak, foolish boy
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  that I had been. What was to become of me now? End of
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  Chapter twenty seven.