CHAPTER XXVII

EXCITEMENT OVER FUFFCOOJAH.—I CARRY HIM TO THE COURT OF KING

GELIDUS.—HIS INSTANT AFFECTION FOR PRINCESS SCHNEEBOULE.—I AM

ACCUSED OF EXERCISING THE BLACK ART.—MY DEFENCE AND MY

REWARD.—ANXIETY OF THE KOLTYKWERPS LEST FUFFCOOJAH PERISH OF

HUNGER.—THIS CALAMITY AVERTED, ANOTHER STARES US IN THE FACE: HOW

TO KEEP HIM FROM FREEZING TO DEATH.—I SOLVE THE PROBLEM, BUT DRAW

UPON ME A STRANGE MISFORTUNE.

It all turned out just as I had thought it would! The moment it became

known that the Little Man with the Frozen Smile had actually come to

life, the wildest excitement prevailed in every part of the icy domain

of his frigid Majesty. I was astounded at the change in the actions of

the Koltykwerps. They moved more quickly, they talked faster, they made

more gestures than I had ever seen them do before. In some cases, you

will hardly believe it, dear friends, I actually noticed a faint glow in

the cold cheeks of a few of them.

I had hoped to be able to bundle Fuffcoojah up warmly and make my escape

to the ice palace before the people learned of his coming to life, but

in vain. When I made my appearance at the door, there was a large crowd

of Koltykwerps pushing and pulling in front of my quarters.

Most of them were good-natured, and cried out,—

“Show him to us, little baron, show us the Little Man with the Frozen

Smile whom thou hast brought to life. Let us look upon his face!”

“Nay, nay, Koltykwerps!” I exclaimed, “it must not be! His frigid

Majesty must be the first to look upon Fuffcoojah’s face. Room, room for

the noble guest of royal Gelidus! In the name of his frigid Majesty give

way and let me pass!”

The Koltykwerps showed no inclination to obey. To such a pitch of

excitement had they worked themselves up that only upon seeing Bulger

advance upon them with flashing eye and teeth laid bare, did they reach

the conclusion that my brave companion was in no mood to be trifled

with.

Thwarted in their wild desire to get a peep at Fuffcoojah, the

Koltykwerps now began to rail at me as I passed them by on my way to the

ice palace.

“Oho, Master magician! Ha, ha, Prince of the Black Art! Boo, boo, little

wizard! Have a care, wily necromancer, see to it that thou dost not

practise any of thy tricks of enchantment upon us!” I was glad when the

axe-bearer saw my plight and hurried forward to extricate me from the

crowd of angry people.

King Gelidus met me at the portal of his ice palace, and at his heels

came Princess Schneeboule, who could hardly wait for her turn to take a

look at the curious living creature which I unwrapped just enough to let

her see its nose.

The instant Fuffcoojah set eyes upon the sweet face of the Koltykwerpian

princess, he stretched out his little arm as a child might to its

mother. This sudden show of affection caused Schneeboule the liveliest

pleasure, and quickly drawing off one of her gloves she reached out and

stroked the animal’s head, but at the touch of those, to him, icy little

fingers he uttered a low wail and drew back underneath the warm pelt in

which he was snugly wrapped.

Poor Schneeboule! she gave a sigh as she saw him do this, but it didn’t

prevent her from coming every minute or so and lifting one end of the

pelt just enough to take another look at Fuffcoojah, who, while he never

failed to cuddle up closer to me at sight of the princess, yet

invariably thrust out one of his black paws from under the pelt for

Schneeboule to shake. While seated on the divan nearest the throne, I

observed that Phrostyphiz and Glacierbhoy were holding a whispered

conference with his frigid Majesty. At once I guessed the subject of

their conversation.

Rising to my feet, I made a sign that I wished to address the king, and

when he had nodded his head with stern and icy dignity, I began to

speak. You know, dear friends, how eloquent I can be when the mood is

upon me. Well, standing there almost upon the steps of King Gelidus’

throne of ice, I proceeded to defend myself against the charge of being

a master of the black art. I will not tell you all I said, but this was

my ending:

“May it please your frigid Majesty!

“Here beside me stands the only magician in the case, and the only art,

the only trick or charm which was exercised by him was that sweet power

we call love. When first he set eyes upon his four-footed brother locked

in the crystal cell of Schneeboule’s Grotto, he pressed his nose again

and again against its icy wall in vain attempt to know his kinsman, and

turned away with a cry of sorrow to find that his keen scent could not

penetrate to him. I cannot tell you how great was his joy when I laid

Fuffcoojah stiff and stark upon my divan, for I knew not then the scheme

ripening in Bulger’s mind. But later, all was plain enough. The loving

dog leaves his master’s breast and carries his true and tender heart

over to where Fuffcoojah lies, raises the pelt, crawls in beside him,

and presses his warm breast firm and hard against his brother’s

ice-locked heart, and warms him into life again, then wakes me and tells

me what he hath done.

“This, Royal Gelidus and most noble Koltykwerps, is the only art that

hath been used to bring Fuffcoojah back to life again, and to call it

black is to slander the sunshine, rail at the lily, and call the sweet

breath of heaven a vile and detestable thing!”

When I had ended my speech I saw that Schneeboule had been weeping, and

that several of her tears stopped in their course down her cheeks hung

there sparkling like tiny diamonds in the soft light of the alabaster

lamps, where the chill air of Gelidus’ palace had turned them into ice.

And therefore when his frigid Majesty said that my words had touched his

heart, and bade me ask for a gift from his hand, I said,—

“O cold king of this fair icy domain, let those tears that now hang like

tiny jewels on Schneeboule’s cheeks be brushed into an alabaster box and

given to me. I covet no other guerdon!”

“Even if I did not love thee, little baron,” cried King Gelidus with an

icy smile, “I would be persuaded; but loving makes easy believing. Go,

Phrostyphiz, and bid one of the princess’s women brush those tiny jewels

that hang on Schneeboule’s cheek into an alabaster cup and bestow them

upon the little baron.”

Scarcely had this been done when Fuffcoojah thrust his head out from

under the pelt and, fixing his eyes pleadingly upon me, thrust out his

tongue and opened and shut his mouth with a faint, smacking noise. Quick

as a flash it dawned upon me that these signs meant that Fuffcoojah was

hungry!

And then, as I suddenly remembered that the Koltykwerps were strictly a

meat-eating people, that only meat was to be had in their chill domain,

quarried almost like marble itself from nature’s great refrigerators, a

gasp escaped my lips, and I whispered,—

“Oh, he must die! He must die!” My words had not missed the keen ears of

Princess Schneeboule.

“Speak, little baron,” she cried, “why, why, must little Fuffcoojah die?

What dost mean by such a saying?” And when King Gelidus and Schneeboule

had heard me voice my fear that he would die rather than feed on meat,

they both became very heavy-hearted.

“Poor little Fuffcoojah!” moaned the princess, “can it be possible that

he must be carried back so soon to his crystal cell in my grotto?”

“Bid the master of my meat quarries approach the throne,” cried King

Gelidus suddenly, in a voice of icy dignity.

This important functionary soon made his appearance.

Turning to me, the king bade me explain the case to him. This I did in a

few words, when, to the great joy of all present the master of the meat

quarries spoke as follows:—

“Little baron, if that’s the only trouble, give thyself no further

uneasiness, for I shall at once send one of my men to thee with a supply

of most delicious nuts.”

“Delicious nuts?” I repeated in a tone of amazement.

“Why, yes, little baron, I have a goodly supply on hand. Know, then,

that hardly a day goes by that my men don’t come upon some fine specimen

of the family of gnawers, most generally squirrels, in whose

cheek-pouches we invariably find from one to half a dozen dainty nuts

stowed away. It has always been my custom to lay these aside, and so I

have to inform thee that if Fuffcoojah should live to be a hundred years

old I or my successor could guarantee to keep him supplied with food.”

These words lifted a terrible load off my heart, for now, at least,

Fuffcoojah would not die of starvation.

For a few days everything went well. The Koltykwerps became quite

satisfied in their own minds that I had not been practising the black

art in the chilly kingdom of his frigid Majesty, and each and every one

of them became greatly attached to the curious little creature with the

droll little face and droller manner.

But it seemed as if we were no sooner out of one trouble than we were

plumped into another, for now Fuffcoojah began to object to the

attendant selected to look after him by King Gelidus.

The man was about ten degrees too cold-blooded for him, and ere long it

was only necessary for the Koltykwerp to approach Fuff,—as we called him

for short,—in order to throw him into convulsions of shivering and to

cause him to utter pitiable cries of discontent, which only ceased upon

my appearing and comforting him by my caresses.

I now set to work to devise some way to make Fuff’s life more agreeable

to him, for everybody seemed to hold me responsible for his well being.

Ten times a day came messengers from King Gelidus or from Princess

Schneeboule to ask how he was getting on, and whether we were keeping

him warm enough, whether he had all he wanted to eat, whether he had

pelts enough on his bed. Nor was it an unusual thing to have a score or

more Koltykwerpian mothers call at my quarters during a single day with

advice enough to last a month, and therefore was it that, with a view to

providing him with a warmer room to sleep in, I ordered a divan fitted

up for him in a smaller chamber opening into mine, upon the walls of

which I directed half a dozen of the largest lamps to be hung.

The consequence was that the walls began to melt, hearing of which,

consternation spread throughout the icy domain of his frigid Majesty,

for to the mind of a Koltykwerp heat powerful enough to melt ice was

something terrible. It was like the dread of earthquake shock to us, or

the fear of flood or flame. It was something that filled their hearts

with such terror that in their dreams they saw the solid walls of the

ice palace melt asunder and fall with a crash. They could not bear it,

and so King Gelidus put forth the decree that if there were no other way

to keep Fuffcoojah alive, then must he die.

Hearing this, an awful grief came upon poor Schneeboule’s heart, for she

had learned to love little Fuff very dearly, and it set a knife in her

breast to think of losing him.

“Never, never,” she cried, “shall I be able to set foot within my grotto

if Fuffcoojah is put back into his crystal prison again, with his frozen

smile on his face as once used to be.” And seeking out her royal father

she threw herself at his knees and spoke as follows:—

“O heart of ice! O frigid Majesty, let not thy child die of grief. There

is an easy way out of all our trouble with dear little Fuffcoojah.”

“Speak, beloved Schneeboule,” answered King Gelidus, “let me hear what

it is.”

“Why, cold heart,” said the princess, “the little baron hath plenty of

warmth stored away in his body, he hath enough for both himself and

Fuffcoojah into the bargain. Therefore, frigid father, command that a

deep, warm hood be made to the little baron’s coat, and that Fuffcoojah

be placed therein and be borne about by the little baron wherever he

goeth. He will soon grow accustomed to the slender burden and note it no

more.”

“It shall be as thou wishest,” replied the king of the Koltykwerps; and

calling his trusty councillor, Glacierbhoy, he directed him to summon me

at once to the throne-room. When I heard this terrible order issue from

the icy lips of King Gelidus my heart sank within me, and yet I dared

not disobey, I dared not murmur, for I it was who had cleft asunder the

crystal prison of the Little Man with the Frozen Smile; I who had made

it possible for Bulger to warm him back to life again. Oh, poor, vain,

weak, foolish boy that I had been, what was to become of me now?