Sky Island (Annotated) E-Book

L. Frank Baum

• Herausgeber: ePembaBooks
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

• This edition includes the following editor's introduction: The life of L. Frank Baum, the father of Oz, a fall from success to disaster

Originally published in 1912, “Sky Island” ( AKA Sky Island: Being the Further Adventures of Trot and Cap'n Bill after Their Visit to the Sea Fairies) is a children's fantasy novel written by American author L. Frank Baum, Baum is best known for his children's books, particularly “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” and its sequels.

"Sky Island" is a book about true loyalty and friendship. The novel tells the story of Trot, a girl living on the coast of Southern California, who meets a strange and clever boy with a big umbrella. Button Bright has been using his family's magic umbrella to make long trips from his home in Philadelphia, and has made it all the way to California. After an explanation of how the magic umbrella works, the two boys, accompanied by old sailor Cap'n Bill, decide to take a trip to a nearby island; they call it Sky island, because it looks like it's " halfway in the sky," but the umbrella takes them to a totally different place, a literal island in the sky. On the island, the three travelers meet six snub-nosed princesses, discover the King's treasure chamber, encounter a blue wolf, meet Tourmaline, the queen of poverty, and Rosalia, the witch.... Finally, they set out on the long journey home, as the Sky Island turns out to be a place that the three characters were glad to leave after having experienced some unpleasant moments there.

Undoubtedly, Sky Island is another colorful country divided in Baum's fantastic universe, like the Land of Oz. Divided into two halves, blue and pink, Heaven Island is home to two distinct races of beings, the blueskins and the pinks.

As the full title indicates, “Sky Island” is a sequel to Baum's “The Sea Fairies” of 1911. Both books were intended as parts of a projected long-running fantasy series to replace the Oz books.

Leseprobe

Table of contents

The life of L. Frank Baum, the father of Oz, a fall from success to disaster

SKY ISLAND

A Little Talk To My Readers

Chapter 1. A Mysterious Arrival

Chapter 2. The Magic Umbrella

Chapter 3. A Wonderful Experience

Chapter 4. The Island In The Sky

Chapter 5. The Boolooroo Of The Blues

Chapter 6. The Six Snubnosed Princesses

Chapter 7. Ghip-Ghisizzle Proves Friendly

Chapter 8. The Blue City

Chapter 9. The Tribulation Of Trot

Chapter 10. The King's Treasure Chamber

Chapter 11. Button-Bright Encounters The Blue Wolf

Chapter 12. Through The Fog Bank

Chapter 13. The Pink Country

Chapter 14. Tourmaline The Poverty Queen

Chapter 15. The Sunrise Tribe And The Sunset Tribe

Chapter 16. Rosalie The Witch

Chapter 17. The Arrival Of Polychrome

Chapter 18. Mayre, Queen Of The Pink Country

Chapter 19. The War Of The Pinks And Blues

Chapter 20. Ghip-Ghisizzle Has A Bad Time

Chapter 21. The Capture Of Cap'n Bill

Chapter 22. Trot's Invisible Adventure

Chapter 23. The Girl And The Boolooroo

Chapter 24. The Amazing Conquest Of The Blues

Chapter 25. The Ruler Of Sky Island

Chapter 26. Trot Celebrates Her Victory

Chapter 27. The Fate Of The Magic Umbrella

Chapter 28. The Elephant's Head Comes To Life

Chapter 29. Trot Regulates The Pinkies

Chapter 30. The Journey Home

The life of L. Frank Baum, the father of Oz, a fall from success to disaster

Who hasn't heard Over the Rainbow? Who hasn't seen Judy Garland as Dorothy and sung the melodies of that history-making movie? However, few remember L. Frank Baum, the author of this series of children's books about the Wizard of Oz, as well as 41 other novels, including the essential “The Sea Fairies” (1911) and " Sky Island" (1912), 83 short stories, 200 poems and at least 40 plays.

Lyman Frank was the ninth child of the Baum - Stanton couple. He was named after his uncle but always preferred to be called Frank. Baum grew up on the family's extensive property; his father was a successful businessman who believed that military life would strengthen his son's dreamy character. For this reason he sent him to a Lyceum where Frank spent the most miserable years of his life. However, the yellow brick streets of Peekskill High School were like the streets Dorothy walked along with the Wizard of Oz. Frank's military career was not very long, lasting barely two years. It ended when the young cadet suffered a panic attack. Back home, he began editing a family newspaper and a philately manual. At the age of 20 he decided to set up a chicken breeding business and even edited a magazine on the subject, without much success in either breeding or publishing. Meanwhile, Frank indulged one of his lifelong passions, fireworks. Every opportunity was good to fill the skies with ephemeral sparkles, a metaphor for what was to be his life with bright moments and black failures. An entertaining young man with a sparkling chat, he quickly became the centre of the meetings he attended. He also had a histrionic vocation that led him to act in several plays while working in his brother-in-law's store and directing a literary magazine called The White Elephant. One day he arrived at the shop and his partner had taken his own life. This experience led him to write a short story, “The Suicide of Kiaros.” In 1880 he wrote his first play, “The Maid of Arran,” which he took on tour to several cities in the interior of the USA. While he was in Kansas, the place where the adventures of the Wizard of Oz take place, the theatre he directed in Richburg burned down, while a play he wrote, coincidentally called “Matches,” was playing. In November 1882 he married Maud Gage, the daughter of a celebrated feminist and suffragist. Baum made the ideas of his wife and mother-in-law his own. The young couple went to live in South Dakota where they opened a store, which did not prosper and Baum returned to editing a newspaper. While living in Dakota he imagined the story of the famous magician from Kansas. As the newspaper also went bankrupt he went to live with his family in Chicago and wrote in the Evening Post. In 1897 he edited “Mother Goose,” a text illustrated by W. Denalow. He also published a children's book called “Papa Goose,” a tale of absurdities in the best Alice in Wonderland style. The success of these books stimulated his literary career and around 1900 he published the story of Dorothy and the Magician, a story that became a commercial success. The play premiered in Chicago and ran on Broadway for almost two years. As the play was intended for adult audiences The little dog Toto was replaced by the Imogene Cow and some political jokes directed at President Roosevelt, and different characters including John Rockefeller were introduced. The play was adapted to film in the 1910 and 1925 versions (the filming with Judy Garland is from 1939 and there is a 1982 Disney version). Baum, emboldened by success, published a book called “Dot and Tot of Merryland” in 1901, which was a fiasco. Although Baum tried to escape from the Wizard of Oz and look for other literary lines about fantastic worlds such as “The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus” and “Queen Zixi of Ix,” he had to return periodically to the Wizard of Oz to save it from the financial failures of his other works that mixed projections of images, with cinema and performances, a very advanced proposal for the time. In order to avoid the loss of all his properties, he transferred them to his wife's name and he only kept his clothes and books. Maud was more cautious than Frank and was able to save the family's assets. Baum continued writing under different pseudonyms and also began his career as a Hollywood producer creating his own company, The Oz Films. Success, once again, eluded him and after the disappointment of “The Last Egyptian,” he suffered a stroke and died in May 1919 shortly after his 63rd birthday, when he discovered that on the other side of the rainbow, only failure and death awaited him. "Now we can cross the quicksand," he said, referring to an episode of his saga before he breathed his last breath. The story of Oz knew other versions written by Ruth Plumey Thompson that had better luck than Baum's versions.

The Editor, P.C. 2022

SKY ISLAND

L. Frank Baum

A Little Talk To My Readers

With "The Sea Fairies," my book for 1911, I ventured into a new field of fairy literature and to my delight the book was received with much approval by my former readers, many of whom have written me that they like Trot "almost as well as Dorothy." As Dorothy was an old, old friend and Trot a new one, I think this is very high praise for Cap'n Bill's little companion. Cap'n Bill is also a new character who seems to have won approval, and so both Trot and the old sailor are again introduced in the present story, which may be called the second of the series of adventures of Trot and Cap'n Bill.

But you will recognize some other acquaintances in "Sky Island." Here, for instance, is Button-Bright, who once had an adventure with Dorothy in Oz, and without Button-Bright and his Magic Umbrella you will see that the story of "Sky Island" could never have been written. As Polychrome, the Rainbow's Daughter, lives in the sky, it is natural that Trot and Button-Bright meet her during their adventures there.

This story of Sky Island has astonished me considerably, and I think it will also astonish you. The sky country is certainly a remarkable fairyland, but after reading about it I am sure you will agree with me that our old Mother Earth is a very good place to live upon and that Trot and Button-Bright and Cap'n Bill were fortunate to get back to it again.

By the way, one of my little correspondents has suggested that I print my address in this book, so that the children may know where letters will reach me. I am doing this, as you see, and hope that many will write to me and tell me how they like "Sky Island." My greatest treasures are these letters from my readers and I am always delighted to receive them.

L. FRANK BAUM

"OZCOT" at HOLLYWOOD in CALIFORNIA

Chapter 1. A Mysterious Arrival

"HELLO," said the boy.

"Hello," answered Trot, looking up surprised. "Where did you come from?"

"Philadelphia," said he.

"Dear me," said Trot; "you're a long way from home, then."

"'Bout as far as I can get, in this country," the boy replied, gazing out over the water. "Isn't this the Pacific Ocean?"

"Of course."

"Why of course?" he asked.

"Because it's the biggest lot of water in all the world."

"How do you know?"

"Cap'n Bill told me," she said.

"Who's Cap'n Bill?"

"An old sailorman who's a friend of mine. He lives at my house, too—the white house you see over there on the bluff."

"Oh; is that your home?"

"Yes," said Trot, proudly. "Isn't it pretty?"

"It's pretty small, seems to me," answered the boy.

"But it's big enough for mother and me, an' for Cap'n Bill," said Trot.

"Haven't you any father?"

"Yes, 'ndeed; Cap'n Griffith is my father; but he's gone, most of the time, sailin' on his ship. You mus' be a stranger in these parts, little boy, not to know 'bout Cap'n Griffith," she added, looking at her new acquaintance intently.

Trot wasn't very big herself, but the boy was not quite as big as Trot. He was thin, with a rather pale complexion and his blue eyes were round and earnest. He wore a blouse waist, a short jacket and knickerbockers. Under his arm he held an old umbrella that was as tall as he was. Its covering had once been of thick brown cloth, but the color had faded to a dull drab, except in the creases, and Trot thought it looked very old-fashioned and common. The handle, though, was really curious. It was of wood and carved to resemble an elephant's head. The long trunk of the elephant was curved to make a crook for the handle. The eyes of the beast were small red stones, and it had two tiny tusks of ivory.

The boy's dress was rich and expensive, even to his fine silk stockings and tan shoes; but the umbrella looked old and disreputable.

"It isn't the rainy season now," remarked Trot, with a smile.

The boy glanced at his umbrella and hugged it tighter.

"No," he said; "but umbrellas are good for other things 'sides rain."

"'Fraid of gett'n' sun-struck?" asked Trot.

He shook his head, still gazing far out over the water.

"I don't b'lieve this is bigger than any other ocean," said he. "I can't see any more of it than I can of the Atlantic."

"You'd find out, if you had to sail across it," she declared.

"When I was in Chicago I saw Lake Michigan," he went on dreamily, "and it looked just as big as this water does."

"Looks don't count, with oceans," she asserted. "Your eyes can only see jus' so far, whether you're lookin' at a pond or a great sea."

"Then it doesn't make any difference how big an ocean is," he replied. "What are those buildings over there?" pointing to the right, along the shore of the bay.

"That's the town," said Trot. "Most of the people earn their living by fishing. The town is half a mile from here an' my house is almost a half mile the other way; so it's 'bout a mile from my house to the town."

The boy sat down beside her on the flat rock.

"Do you like girls?" asked Trot, making room for him.

"Not very well," the boy replied. "Some of 'em are pretty good fellows, but not many. The girls with brothers are bossy, an' the girls without brothers haven't any 'go' to 'em. But the world's full o' both kinds, and so I try to take 'em as they come. They can't help being girls, of course. Do you like boys?"

"When they don't put on airs, or get rough-house," replied Trot. "My 'sperience with boys is that they don't know much, but think they do."

"That's true," he answered. "I don't like boys much better than I do girls; but some are all right, and—you seem to be one of 'em."

"Much obliged," laughed Trot. "You aren't so bad, either, an' if we don't both turn out worse than we seem we ought to be friends."

He nodded, rather absently, and tossed a pebble into the water.

"Been to town?" he asked.

"Yes. Mother wanted some yarn from the store. She's knittin' Cap'n Bill a stocking."

"Doesn't he wear but one?"

"That's all. Cap'n Bill has one wooden leg," she explained. "That's why he don't sailor any more. I'm glad of it, 'cause Cap'n Bill knows ev'rything. I s'pose he knows more than anyone else in all the world."

"Whew!" said the boy; "that's taking a good deal for granted. A one-legged sailor can't know much."

"Why not?" asked Trot, a little indignantly. "Folks don't learn things with their legs, do they?"

"No; but they can't get around, without legs, to find out things."

"Cap'n Bill got 'round lively 'nough once, when he had two meat legs," she said. "He's sailed to 'most ev'ry country on the earth, an' found out all that the people in 'em knew, and a lot besides. He was shipwrecked on a desert island, once, and another time a cannibal king tried to boil him for dinner, an' one day a shark chased him seven leagues through the water, an'—"

"What's a league?" asked the boy.

"It's a—a distance, like a mile is; but a league isn't a mile, you know."

"What is it, then?"

"You'll have to ask Cap'n Bill; he knows ever'thing."

"Not ever'thing," objected the boy. "I know some things Cap'n Bill don't know."

"If you do you're pretty smart," said Trot.

"No; I'm not smart. Some folks think I'm stupid. I guess I am. But I know a few things that are wonderful. Cap'n Bill may know more'n I do—a good deal more—but I'm sure he can't know the same things. Say, what's your name?"

"I'm Mayre Griffith; but ever'body calls me 'Trot.' It's a nickname I got when I was a baby, 'cause I trotted so fast when I walked, an' it seems to stick. What's your name?"

"Button-Bright."

"How did it happen?"

"How did what happen?"

"Such a funny name."

The boy scowled a little.

"Just like your own nickname happened," he answered gloomily. "My father once said I was bright as a button, an' it made ever'body laugh. So they always call me Button-Bright."

"What's your real name?" she inquired.

"Saladin Paracelsus de Lambertine Evagne von Smith."

"Guess I'll call you Button-Bright," said Trot, sighing. "The only other thing would be 'Salad,' an' I don't like salads. Don't you find it hard work to 'member all of your name?"

"I don't try to," he said. "There's a lot more of it, but I've forgotten the rest."

"Thank you," said Trot. "Oh, here comes Cap'n Bill!" as she glanced over her shoulder.

Button-Bright turned also and looked solemnly at the old sailor who came stumping along the path toward them. Cap'n Bill wasn't a very handsome man. He was old, not very tall, somewhat stout and chubby, with a round face, a bald head and a scraggly fringe of reddish whisker underneath his chin. But his blue eyes were frank and merry and his smile like a ray of sunshine. He wore a sailor shirt with a broad collar, a short peajacket and wide-bottomed sailor trousers, one leg of which covered his wooden limb but did not hide it. As he came "pegging" along the path, as he himself described his hobbling walk, his hands were pushed into his coat pockets, a pipe was in his mouth and his black neckscarf was fluttering behind him in the breeze like a sable banner.

Button-Bright liked the sailor's looks. There was something very winning—something jolly and care-free and honest and sociable—about the ancient seaman that made him everybody's friend; so the strange boy was glad to meet him.

"Well, well, Trot," he said, coming up, "is this the way you hurry to town?"

"No, for I'm on my way back," said she. "I did hurry when I was going, Cap'n Bill, but on my way home I sat down here to rest an' watch the gulls—the gulls seem awful busy to-day, Cap'n Bill—an' then I found this boy."

Cap'n Bill looked at the boy curiously.

"Don't think as ever I sawr him at the village," he remarked. "Guess as you're a stranger, my lad."

Button-Bright nodded.

"Hain't walked the nine mile from the railroad station, hev ye?" asked Cap'n Bill.

"No," said Button-Bright.

The sailor glanced around him.

"Don't see no waggin, er no autymob'l'," he added.

"No," said Button-Bright.

"Catch a ride wi' some one?"

Button-Bright shook his head.

"A boat can't land here; the rocks is too thick an' too sharp," continued Cap'n Bill, peering down toward the foot of the bluff on which they sat and against which the waves broke in foam.

"No," said Button-Bright; "I didn't come by water."

Trot laughed.

"He must 'a' dropped from the sky, Cap'n Bill!" she exclaimed.

Button-Bright nodded, very seriously.

"That's it," he said.

"Oh; a airship, eh?" cried Cap'n Bill, in surprise. "I've hearn tell o' them sky keeridges; someth'n' like flyin' autymob'l's, ain't they?"

"I don't know," said Button-Bright; "I've never seen one."

Both Trot and Cap'n Bill now looked at the boy in astonishment.

"Now, then, lemme think a minute," said the sailor, reflectively. "Here's a riddle for us to guess, Trot. He dropped from the sky, he says, an' yet he did'nt come in a airship!

"'Riddlecum, riddlecum ree;

What can the answer be?'"

Trot looked the boy over carefully. She didn't see any wings on him. The only queer thing about him was his big umbrella.

"Oh!" she said suddenly, clapping her hands together; "I know now."

"Do you?" asked Cap'n Bill, doubtfully. "Then you're some smarter ner I am, mate."

"He sailed down with the umbrel!" she cried. "He used his umbrel as a para—para—"

"Shoot," said Cap'n Bill. "They're called parashoots, mate; but why, I can't say. Did you drop down in that way, my lad?" he asked the boy.

"Yes," said Button-Bright; "that was the way."

"But how did you get up there?" asked Trot. "You had to get up in the air before you could drop down, an'—oh, Cap'n Bill! he says he's from Phillydelfy, which is a big city way at the other end of America."

"Are you?" asked the sailor, surprised.

Button-Bright nodded again.

"I ought to tell you my story," he said, "and then you'd understand. But I'm afraid you won't believe me, and—" he suddenly broke off and looked toward the white house in the distance—"Didn't you say you lived over there?" he inquired.

"Yes," said Trot. "Won't you come home with us?"

"I'd like to," replied Button-Bright.

"All right; let's go, then," said the girl, jumping up.

The three walked silently along the path. The old sailorman had refilled his pipe and lighted it again, and he smoked thoughtfully as he pegged along beside the children.

"Know anyone around here?" he asked Button-Bright.

"No one but you two," said the boy, following after Trot, with his umbrella tucked carefully underneath his arm.

"And you don't know us very well," remarked Cap'n Bill. "Seems to me you're pretty young to be travelin' so far from home, an' among strangers; but I won't say anything more till we've heard your story. Then, if you need my advice, or Trot's advice—she's a wise little girl, fer her size, Trot is—we'll freely give it an' be glad to help you."

"Thank you," replied Button-Bright; "I need a lot of things, I'm sure, and p'raps advice is one of 'em."

Chapter 2. The Magic Umbrella

WHEN they reached the neat frame cottage which stood on a high bluff a little back from the sea and was covered with pretty green vines, a woman came to the door to meet them. She seemed motherly and good and when she saw Button-Bright she exclaimed:

"Goodness me! who's this you've got, Trot?"

"It's a boy I've just found," explained the girl. "He lives way off in Phillydelphy."

"Mercy sakes alive!" cried Mrs. Griffith, looking into his upturned face; "I don't believe he's had a bite to eat since he started. Ain't you hungry, child?"

"Yes," said Button-Bright.

"Run, Trot, an' get two slices o' bread-an'-butter," commanded Mrs. Griffith. "Cut 'em thick, dear, an' use plenty of butter."

"Sugar on 'em?" asked Trot, turning to obey.

"No," said Button-Bright, "just bread-an'-butter's good enough when you're hungry, and it takes time to spread sugar on."

"We'll have supper in an hour," observed Trot's mother, briskly; "but a hungry child can't wait a whole hour, I'm sure. What are you grinning at, Cap'n Bill? How dare you laugh when I'm talking? Stop it this minute, you old pirate, or I'll know the reason why!"

"I didn't, mum," said Cap'n Bill, meekly, "I on'y—"

"Stop right there, sir! How dare you speak when I'm talking?" She turned to Button-Bright and her tone changed to one of much gentleness as she said: "Come in the house, my poor boy, an' rest yourself. You seem tired out. Here, give me that clumsy umbrella."

"No, please," said Button-Bright, holding the umbrella tighter.

"Then put it in the rack behind the door," she urged. The boy seemed a little frightened.

"I—I'd rather keep it with me, if you please," he pleaded.

"Never mind," Cap'n Bill ventured to say, "it won't worry him so much to hold the umbrella, mum, as to let it go. Guess he's afraid he'll lose it, but it ain't any great shakes, to my notion. Why, see here, Butt'n-Bright, we've got half-a-dozen umbrels in the closet that's better ner yours."

"Perhaps," said the boy. "Yours may look a heap better, sir, but—I'll keep this one, if you please."

"Where did you get it?" asked Trot, appearing just then with a plate of bread-and-butter.

"It—it belongs in our family," said Button-Bright, beginning to eat and speaking between bites. "This umbrella has been in our family years, an' years, an' years. But it was tucked away up in our attic an' no one ever used it 'cause it wasn't pretty."

"Don't blame 'em much," remarked Cap'n Bill, gazing at it curiously; "it's a pretty old-lookin' bumbershoot." They were all seated in the vine-shaded porch of the cottage—all but Mrs. Griffith, who had gone into the kitchen to look after the supper—and Trot was on one side of the boy, holding the plate for him, while Cap'n Bill sat on the other side.

"It is old," said Button-Bright. "One of my great-great-grandfathers was a Knight—an Arabian Knight—and it was he who first found this umbrella."

"An Arabian Night!" exclaimed Trot; "why, that was a magic night, wasn't it?"

"There's diff'rent sorts o' nights, mate," said the sailor, "an' the knight Button-Bright means ain't the same night you mean. Soldiers used to be called knights, but that were in the dark ages, I guess, an' likely 'nough Butt'n-Bright's great-gran'ther were that sort of a knight."

"But he said an Arabian Knight," persisted Trot.

"Well, if he went to Araby, or was born there, he'd be an Arabian Knight, wouldn't he? The lad's gran'ther were prob'ly a furriner, an' yours an' mine were, too, Trot, if you go back far enough; for Ameriky wasn't diskivered in them days."

"There!" said Trot, triumphantly, "didn't I tell you, Button-Bright, that Cap'n Bill knows ever'thing?"

"He knows a lot, I expect," soberly answered the boy, finishing the last slice of bread-and-butter and then looking at the empty plate with a sigh; "but if he really knows everthing he knows about the Magic Umbrella, so I won't have to tell you anything about it."

"Magic!" cried Trot, with big, eager eyes; "did you say Magic Umbrel, Button-Bright?"

"I said 'Magic.' But none of our family knew it was a Magic Umbrella till I found it out for myself. You're the first people I've told the secret to," he added, glancing into their faces rather uneasily.

"Glory me!" exclaimed the girl, clapping her hands in ecstacy; "it must be jus' elegant to have a Magic Umbrel!"

Cap'n Bill coughed. He had a way of coughing when he was suspicious.

"Magic," he observed gravely, "was once lyin' 'round loose in the world. That was in the Dark Ages, I guess, when the magic Arabian Nights was. But the light o' Civilization has skeered it away long ago, an' magic's been a lost art since long afore you an' I was born, Trot."

"I know that fairies still live," said Trot, reflectively. She didn't like to contradict Cap'n Bill, who knew "ever'thing."

"So do I," added Button-Bright. "And I know there's magic still in the world—or in my umbrella, anyhow."

"Tell us about it!" begged the girl, excitedly.

"Well," said the boy, "I found it all out by accident. It rained in Philadelphia for three whole days, and all the umbrellas in our house were carried out by the family, and lost or mislaid, or something, so that when I wanted to go to Uncle Bob's house, which is at Germantown, there wasn't an umbrella to be found. My governess wouldn't let me go without one, and—"

"Oh," said Trot; "do you have a governess?"

"Yes; but I don't like her; she's cross. She said I couldn't go to Uncle Bob's because I had no umbrella. Instead she told me to go up in the attic and play. I was sorry 'bout that, but I went up in the attic and pretty soon I found in a corner this old umbrella. I didn't care how it looked. It was whole and strong and big, and would keep me from getting wet on the way to Uncle Bob's. So off I started for the car, but I found the streets awful muddy, and once I stepped in a mud-hole way up to my ankle.

"'Gee!' I said, 'I wish I could fly through the air to Uncle Bob's.'