THE KNIGHT'S FIRST ADVENTURE

Walking rapidly, Sir Hokus soon reached the outskirts of the Emerald City and paused on the edge of a small wood to consider the next step of his journey. In which of the four countries of Oz would he be most likely to find a maiden in distress, a monarch in need of his trusty sword, or a monster ferocious enough to engage in mortal combat?

Should he go to the North, into the purple land of the Gillikins and offer his services to Joe King, and Queen Hyacinth? Or into the red Quadling Country where Glinda, the Good Sorceress, ruled over the turbulent tribes of the South? To the West stretched the blue realm of the Munchkins with its wonderful Sapphire City and newly appointed sovereign, Cheeriobed the First. Should he go there? To the East lay the yellow domain of the Winkies ruled over by the Tin Woodman, and after looking thoughtfully in each direction, Sir Hokus turned his steps toward the East. It was in the Winkie Country that he had been first discovered by little Dorothy and in this strange and enchanted Empire he hoped to learn something of his former history.

During his five century imprisonment in Pokes, Sir Hokus had lost all recollection of his early life and since his residence in the Emerald City he had been too occupied and interested to bother. But now, treading through the starlit wood, he began to think of the long ago days of his youth, to wonder whence he had come, who he really was and what great purpose had sent him riding upon that first quest on a far-away and but dimly remembered morning. Of his father or his father's castle he could recall nothing. He only remembered meeting, not far from the postern gates, a strange, black Knight who had harshly challenged him to battle. Sir Hokus had accepted the challenge at once and unseated the stranger with a clever thrust of his lance.

Instantly the black Knight had sprung up, and crying in a loud voice, "Live, wretch, for centuries in the stupidest Kingdom in Oz," had disappeared, and Sir Hokus himself, though of course that was not his name at that time, had been immediately transported to Pokes and there he had been held captive for long forgotten ages until Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion had come there by chance and all three had managed to escape together.

"Strange," mused the Knight, shaking his head sorrowfully, "strange that I can remember nothing more of it." The longer he thought, the less he could think of, and finally he gave it up altogether. "After all, does it matter?" he murmured, throwing back his shoulders and standing a trifle more straight. "A Knight's but a Knight and can but be bold!" Cheered by the thought of his own boldness, he peered about hopefully for signs of a dragon or stray gundersnatch. "What ho!" he roared lustily, more to keep himself company than because he expected any answer. "What ho, there! What HO!"

"What who?" quavered a shrill voice from the branch of a tree just ahead, and a big, yellow owl blinked disagreeably down at him. "What who-ooo are you, and what 'Ho' is this you are calling?" he demanded sulkily.

"Ah, my good bird," Sir Hokus bowed politely, "perchance you can direct me to a maiden in distress, a monarch in need of my sharp sword, or a monster whose head I might haply dissever."

"Dissever?" screeched the owl, ruffling his feathers. "Well, did you ever! There are no maidens, monarchs, or monsters in this wood, and I advise you to go home and mind your own business."

"It is a Knight's business to render assistance to others," Sir Hokus informed him sternly.

"Oh, you're a Knight are you?" The owl opened his eyes wider. "Well, I'm a Knight, too, a night owl, and you may render me a service if you will."

"Name it!" Eagerly Sir Hokus drew his sword.

"You can go away," sniffed the owl fretfully, settling down on the branch. "Go away, go along with you!" And as Sir Hokus stood uncertain whether to clip a few feathers from its tail to teach it a lesson in courtesy or just go off, the bird closed its eyes. "Good-night, Knight," it yawned sleepily.

"Good-night, night owl," answered Sir Hokus, deciding that after all the creature was not worth a quarrel. "Odds bodikens! I might as well be home in bed for all the adventures I'm having," he sighed, moving mournfully along in the moonlight. "Not a wild beast has crossed my path, not a witch, a robber, or even one little dragon! Hah, Hoh, HUM!" With another great yawn, the Knight removed his heavy armor, hung it on a nearby branch, and wrapping himself in his gray cloak lay down under a tree and slept soundly till morning. The chatter of the yellow birds awakened him about six, and buckling on his armor he quenched his thirst in a clear forest brook. As there were no breakfast bushes or afternoon tea trees about he marched resolutely onward. The forest grew denser at every step and he was often forced to hew out a path with his battle-axe, but about noon he came to a narrow footway shut in on both sides by giant trees and heavy underbrush. Following this for several miles, Sir Hokus was suddenly cheered by a bright shaft of sunlight ahead. Hurrying forward joyfully, he was about to step out into the open when a heavy hand fell upon his shoulder.

"Halt!" cried a deep voice. "Halt! Stop! And other words meaning surrender!"

"Surrender?" bellowed the Knight, with a furious bounce. "Stand back, knave! Unhand me, villain! Who dares cry 'halt' to Sir Hokus of Pokes?"

"Getsom and Gotsom!" answered the same deep voice. "Getsom and Gotsom! Mud Guards to her Majesty, Queen Marcia of Marshland."

"Mud Guards!" sputtered Sir Hokus, staring at the two without enthusiasm. "Well, in faith an' ye look it!" For Getsom and Gotsom were so spattered with mud and streaked with mire that scarcely any of their dark skin was visible. They wore rough swamp grass skirts and little else, and their long hair was tangled and matted and hung half over their sullen faces. As Sir Hokus continued to stare, the second Mud Guard addressed him:

"Good-morrow!" he croaked, jerking his forelock. Then turning to his companion he whispered hoarsely, "Be careful how you treat him, Getsom, old fellow. Remember he is the King!"

"King!" exploded Sir Hokus, growing quite curious. "What merry nonsense is this? I am a Knight, bound upon a curious quest."

"He'll do very well indeed, if we remove the shell," continued Gotsom, eyeing Sir Hokus with frank approval. "How would you like to be Monarch of the Marshes and King of the Stick-in-the-Muds?" he asked coaxingly. "Our Queen has sworn to marry the first stranger who enters the Kingdom; you are the first, so--"

"Hold, fellow!" Imperiously Sir Hokus raised his arm. "I would hear more of this Queen."

"Well," admitted Getsom, looking uneasily at Gotsom, "she has one wonderful eye."

"One wonderful eye!" gulped the Knight. "By my father's beard, it is not enough! If I ever marry 'twill be a Princess with two wonderful eyes and curly hair like little Dorothy's. But I am not minded to marry at all. I crave adventure, conquest, and furious battle!"

"Marry Marcia, and you will have all three," promised Gotsom quickly.

"Oh, come on! You're wasting our time," grumbled Getsom, and pressing forward impatiently the two Mud Guards made ready to seize the Knight. But Sir Hokus had no intention of being taken. Striking two ways at once, he felled Getsom with his sword and Gotsom with his battle-axe and, leaping over their inert bodies, rushed impetuously forward. Almost instantly he regretted this hasty action; for though he was indeed out of the gloomy forest, in all directions stretched a wild and desolate marsh, and scarcely had he run three paces before he began to sink down into the treacherous, watery bog. Sir Hokus struck out bravely enough, but what good is bravery in the mud? No matter how brave you are, you still keep on sinking, and weighed down by his heavy armor the Knight was soon in to his waist and going deeper every minute. Indeed, if he had not snatched desperately at a scraggly little tree, he would have disappeared altogether.

"Methinks," groaned the Knight regretfully, "methinks I had done better to have gone with those muddy rogues and taken my chance with their one-eyed Queen. They, no doubt, have a way of crossing this mire." But the Mud Guards would not regain their senses for hours, and meanwhile he could do nothing but cling to the tree. "What now? And what next?" he muttered, looking around despondently. Then he took a firmer hold on his sword. "Odds goblins!" breathed Sir Hokus, wrinkling his brows.

All around him giant bubbles were rising in the mud, and from each bubble came a great green frog's head. Odd goblins they were, indeed! Frog goblins, to be perfectly correct, and with hair-raising croaks and screeches they pressed closer, trying to pull the Knight down into the mire. Each frog goblin was about the size of a small child, and at first Sir Hokus struck them lightly with the flat of his sword. But as they came nearer and nearer, snatching with their long, skinny fingers and trying to loosen his hold on the tree, he swung his sword with all his might and brought it down with resounding whacks on their heads. But as fast as he struck down four, a dozen others hurled themselves upon him. Having only one hand free and being waist deep in the mud, Sir Hokus fought them off as best he could, but there were so many it seemed but a question of time before he would be pulled ingloriously into the swamp and suffocated. Then, suddenly, right at the height of the conflict, the frog goblins, with a hundred dismal croaks, dove into the bog. Panting with exhaustion, Sir Hokus glared around to discover the cause of their disappearance and saw a giant mud turtle plowing determinedly toward him. Its jaws snapped, its eyes rolled, and it was as large as an elephant flattened out.

"A monster!" puffed Sir Hokus. "At last, a monster! But I could wish it had come at some happier moment, when I had more breath and better footing!" Nevertheless, he pulled himself resolutely up out of the mud and, raising his sword, calmly waited for the turtle to approach. When it had almost reached his tree, the creature stopped, stretched up its neck and regarded him long and searchingly, as if it were deciding upon the best place to begin biting him. Sir Hokus endured this inspection for several minutes in silence; then, as the monster made no move or murmur, he called out impatiently:

"Quail, wretch! Quiver, or at least do something to show that you are afraid!"

"I am not a quail," answered the turtle in a dignified voice, "and in this shell, how could I quiver?"

"Well, do what you're going to do, then," shouted the Knight, "and be done with it." Lack of breakfast and the discomforts of the past few hours had not improved his temper. "Do something, d'ye hear?"

"I am," said the turtle, blinking its eyes solemnly. "I am admiring you, dear brother. I have always suspected that somewhere a turtle man existed and here, at last, you are! What a gorgeous shell, and how perfectly it fits!" At these words, and seeing there was to be no slaying, Sir Hokus returned his sword to its scabbard and looked thoughtfully at the green monster.

"Dear, dear," it continued, rolling its eyes affectionately, "I dote on you already. Can I catch you some nice little frogs, or would you prefer a serpent for breakfast?"

"Neither," shuddered the Knight, "but you may carry me on your back, an' you will." If the creature were really as friendly as it appeared to be, he could stand being called its brother, at least until he was out of the swamp. At his words the turtle gave a squeal of pleasure, and hurling itself hit or miss through the mud, drew up like a ferryboat beside him. Seizing hold of its strong shell, Sir Hokus pulled himself thankfully up on its back.

"A fine Knight Errant I must appear," he sighed, regarding his muddy armor ruefully. "No wonder it thinks I'm a turtle man! What ho, my good creature," he called anxiously, "is it far to the edge of this marsh?"

"Far--far--very far, but not too far for Ploppa," wheezed the mud turtle, looking fondly back at the Knight.

"Then proceed, Ploppa!" cried Sir Hokus, chuckling in spite of himself at the turtle's name. "Proceed, and let us make what speed we may!"