The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Kidnapped Santa Claus, by L. Frank Baum

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A Kidnapped Santa Claus

by

L. Frank Baum

Santa Claus lives in the Laughing Valley,scratch art kits for 13 year olds under 25 dollars where stands the big,rambling castle in which his toys are manufactured. His workmen,selected from the ryls, knooks, pixies and fairies, live with him, andevery one is as busy as can be from one year's end to another.

It is called the Laughing Valley because everything there is happyand gay. The brook chuckles to itself as it leaps rollicking betweenits green banks; the wind whistles merrily in the trees; the sunbeamsdance lightly over the soft grass, and the violets and wild flowerslook smilingly up from their green nests. To laugh one needs to behappy; to be happy one needs to be content. And throughout theLaughing Valley of Santa Claus contentment reigns supreme.

On one side is the mighty Forest of Burzee. At the other side standsthe huge mountain that contains the Caves of the Daemons. And betweenthem the Valley lies smiling and peaceful.

One would thing that our good old Santa Claus, who devotes his days tomaking children happy, would have no enemies on all the earth; and, asa matter of fact, for a long period of time he encountered nothing butlove wherever he might go.

But the Daemons who live in the mountain caves grew to hate Santa Clausvery much, and all for the simple reason that he made children happy.

The Caves of the Daemons are five in number. A broad pathway leadsup to the first cave, which is a finely arched cavern at the foot ofthe mountain, the entrance being beautifully carved and decorated. Init resides the Daemon of Selfishness. Back of this is another caverninhabited by the Daemon of Envy. The cave of the Daemon of Hatred isnext in order, and through this one passes to the home of the Daemonof Malice—situated in a dark and fearful cave in the very heart ofthe mountain. I do not know what lies beyond this. Some say thereare terrible pitfalls leading to death and destruction, and this mayvery well be true. However, from each one of the four caves mentionedthere is a small, narrow tunnel leading to the fifth cave—a cozylittle room occupied by the Daemon of Repentance. And as the rockyfloors of these passages are well worn by the track of passing feet, Ijudge that many wanderers in the Caves of the Daemons have escapedthrough the tunnels to the abode of the Daemon of Repentance, who issaid to be a pleasant sort of fellow who gladly opens for one a littledoor admitting you into fresh air and sunshine again.

Well, these Daemons of the Caves, thinking they had great cause todislike old Santa Claus, held a meeting one day to discuss the matter.

"I'm really getting lonesome," said the Daemon of Selfishness. "ForSanta Claus distributes so many pretty Christmas gifts to all thechildren that they become happy and generous, through his example, andkeep away from my cave."

"I'm having the same trouble," rejoined the Daemon of Envy. "Thelittle ones seem quite content with Santa Claus, and there are few,indeed, that I can coax to become envious."

"And that makes it bad for me!" declared the Daemon of Hatred. "Forif no children pass through the Caves of Selfishness and Envy, nonecan get to MY cavern."

"Or to mine," added the Daemon of Malice.

"For my part," said the Daemon of Repentance, "it is easily seen thatif children do not visit your caves they have no need to visit mine;so that I am quite as neglected as you are."

"And all because of this person they call Santa Claus!" exclaimed theDaemon of Envy. "He is simply ruining our business, and somethingmust be done at once."

To this they readily agreed; but what to do was another and moredifficult matter to settle. They knew that Santa Claus worked allthrough the year at his castle in the Laughing Valley, preparing thegifts he was to distribute on Christmas Eve; and at first theyresolved to try to tempt him into their caves, that they might leadhim on to the terrible pitfalls that ended in destruction.

So the very next day, while Santa Claus was busily at work, surroundedby his little band of assistants, the Daemon of Selfishness came tohim and said:

"These toys are wonderfully bright and pretty. Why do you not keepthem for yourself? It's a pity to give them to those noisy boys andfretful girls, who break and destroy them so quickly."

"Nonsense!" cried the old graybeard, his bright eyes twinkling merrilyas he turned toward the tempting Daemon. "The boys and girls arenever so noisy and fretful after receiving my presents, and if I canmake them happy for one day in the year I am quite content."

So the Daemon went back to the others, who awaited him in their caves,and said:

"I have failed, for Santa Claus is not at all selfish."

The following day the Daemon of Envy visited Santa Claus. Said he:"The toy shops are full of playthings quite as pretty as those you aremaking. What a shame it is that they should interfere with yourbusiness! They make toys by machinery much quicker than you can makethem by hand; and they sell them for money, while you get nothing atall for your work."

But Santa Claus refused to be envious of the toy shops.

"I can supply the little ones but once a year—on Christmas Eve," heanswered; "for the children are many, and I am but one. And as mywork is one of love and kindness I would be ashamed to receive moneyfor my little gifts. But throughout all the year the children must beamused in some way, and so the toy shops are able to bring muchhappiness to my little friends. I like the toy shops, and am glad tosee them prosper."

In spite of the second rebuff, the Daemon of Hatred thought he wouldtry to influence Santa Claus. So the next day he entered the busyworkshop and said:

"Good morning, Santa! I have bad news for you."

"Then run away, like a good fellow," answered Santa Claus. "Bad newsis something that should be kept secret and never told."

"You cannot escape this, however," declared the Daemon; "for in theworld are a good many who do not believe in Santa Claus, and these youare bound to hate bitterly, since they have so wronged you."

"Stuff and rubbish!" cried Santa.

"And there are others who resent your making children happy and whosneer at you and call you a foolish old rattlepate! You are quiteright to hate such base slanderers, and you ought to be revenged uponthem for their evil words."

"But I don't hate 'em!" exclaimed Santa Claus positively. "Suchpeople do me no real harm, but merely render themselves and theirchildren unhappy. Poor things! I'd much rather help them any daythan injure them."

Indeed, the Daemons could not tempt old Santa Claus in any way. Onthe contrary, he was shrewd enough to see that their object invisiting him was to make mischief and trouble, and his cheery laughterdisconcerted the evil ones and showed to them the folly of such anundertaking. So they abandoned honeyed words and determined to use force.

It was well known that no harm can come to Santa Claus while he is inthe Laughing Valley, for the fairies, and ryls, and knooks all protecthim. But on Christmas Eve he drives his reindeer out into the bigworld, carrying a sleighload of toys and pretty gifts to the children;and this was the time and the occasion when his enemies had the bestchance to injure him. So the Daemons laid their plans and awaited thearrival of Christmas Eve.

The moon shone big and white in the sky, and the snow lay crisp andsparkling on the ground as Santa Claus cracked his whip and sped awayout of the Valley into the great world beyond. The roomy sleigh waspacked full with huge sacks of toys, and as the reindeer dashed onwardour jolly old Santa laughed and whistled and sang for very joy. Forin all his merry life this was the one day in the year when he washappiest—the day he lovingly bestowed the treasures of his workshopupon the little children.

It would be a busy night for him, he well knew. As he whistled andshouted and cracked his whip again, he reviewed in mind all the townsand cities and farmhouses where he was expected, and figured that hehad just enough presents to go around and make every child happy. Thereindeer knew exactly what was expected of them, and dashed along soswiftly that their feet scarcely seemed to touch the snow-covered ground.

Suddenly a strange thing happened: a rope shot through the moonlightand a big noose that was in the end of it settled over the arms andbody of Santa Claus and drew tight. Before he could resist or evencry out he was jerked from the seat of the sleigh and tumbled headforemost into a snowbank, while the reindeer rushed onward with theload of toys and carried it quickly out of sight and sound.

Such a surprising experience confused old Santa for a moment, and whenhe had collected his senses he found that the wicked Daemons hadpulled him from the snowdrift and bound him tightly with many coils ofthe stout rope. And then they carried the kidnapped Santa Claus awayto their mountain, where they thrust the prisoner into a secret caveand chained him to the rocky wall so that he could not escape.

"Ha, ha!" laughed the Daemons, rubbing their hands together with cruelglee. "What will the children do now? How they will cry and scoldand storm when they find there are no toys in their stockings and nogifts on their Christmas trees! And what a lot of punishment theywill receive from their parents, and how they will flock to our Cavesof Selfishness, and Envy, and Hatred, and Malice! We have done amighty clever thing, we Daemons of the Caves!"

Now it so chanced that on this Christmas Eve the good Santa Claus hadtaken with him in his sleigh Nuter the Ryl, Peter the Knook, Kilterthe Pixie, and a small fairy named Wisk—his four favorite assistants.These little people he had often found very useful in helping him todistribute his gifts to the children, and when their master was sosuddenly dragged from the sleigh they were all snugly tuckedunderneath the seat, where the sharp wind could not reach them.

The tiny immortals knew nothing of the capture of Santa Claus untilsome time after he had disappeared. But finally they missed hischeery voice, and as their master always sang or whistled on hisjourneys, the silence warned them that something was wrong.

Little Wisk stuck out his head from underneath the seat and found
Santa Claus gone and no one to direct the flight of the reindeer.

"Whoa!" he called out, and the deer obediently slackened speed andcame to a halt.

Peter and Nuter and Kilter all jumped upon the seat and looked backover the track made by the sleigh. But Santa Claus had been leftmiles and miles behind.

"What shall we do?" asked Wisk anxiously, all the mirth and mischiefbanished from his wee face by this great calamity.

"We must go back at once and find our master," said Nuter the Ryl, whothought and spoke with much deliberation.

"No, no!" exclaimed Peter the Knook, who, cross and crabbed though hewas, might always be depended upon in an emergency. "If we delay, orgo back, there will not be time to get the toys to the children beforemorning; and that would grieve Santa Claus more than anything else."

"It is certain that some wicked creatures have captured him," addedKilter thoughtfully, "and their object must be to make the childrenunhappy. So our first duty is to get the toys distributed ascarefully as if Santa Claus were himself present. Afterward wecan search for our master and easily secure his freedom."

This seemed such good and sensible advice that the others at onceresolved to adopt it. So Peter the Knook called to the reindeer, andthe faithful animals again sprang forward and dashed over hill andvalley, through forest and plain, until they came to the houseswherein children lay sleeping and dreaming of the pretty gifts theywould find on Christmas morning.

The little immortals had set themselves a difficult task; for althoughthey had assisted Santa Claus on many of his journeys, their masterhad always directed and guided them and told them exactly what hewished them to do. But now they had to distribute the toys accordingto their own judgment, and they did not understand children as well asdid old Santa. So it is no wonder they made some laughable errors.

Mamie Brown, who wanted a doll, got a drum instead; and a drum is ofno use to a girl who loves dolls. And Charlie Smith, who delights toromp and play out of doors, and who wanted some new rubber boots tokeep his feet dry, received a sewing box filled with colored worstedsand threads and needles, which made him so provoked that hethoughtlessly called our dear Santa Claus a fraud.

Had there been many such mistakes the Daemons would have accomplishedtheir evil purpose and made the children unhappy. But the littlefriends of the absent Santa Claus labored faithfully and intelligentlyto carry out their master's ideas, and they made fewer errors thanmight be expected under such unusual circumstances.

And, although they worked as swiftly as possible, day had begun tobreak before the toys and other presents were all distributed; so forthe first time in many years the reindeer trotted into the LaughingValley, on their return, in broad daylight, with the brilliant sunpeeping over the edge of the forest to prove they were far behindtheir accustomed hours.

Having put the deer in the stable, the little folk began to wonder howthey might rescue their master; and they realized they must discover,first of all, what had happened to him and where he was.

So Wisk the Fairy transported himself to the bower of the Fairy Queen,which was located deep in the heart of the Forest of Burzee; and oncethere, it did not take him long to find out all about the naughtyDaemons and how they had kidnapped the good Santa Claus to prevent hismaking children happy. The Fairy Queen also promised her assistance,and then, fortified by this powerful support, Wisk flew back to whereNuter and Peter and Kilter awaited him, and the four counseledtogether and laid plans to rescue their master from his enemies.

It is possible that Santa Claus was not as merry as usual during thenight that succeeded his capture. For although he had faith in thejudgment of his little friends he could not avoid a certain amount ofworry, and an anxious look would creep at times into his kind old eyesas he thought of the disappointment that might await his dear littlechildren. And the Daemons, who guarded him by turns, one afteranother, did not neglect to taunt him with contemptuous words in hishelpless condition.

When Christmas Day dawned the Daemon of Malice was guarding theprisoner, and his tongue was sharper than that of any of the others.

"The children are waking up, Santa!" he cried. "They are waking up tofind their stockings empty! Ho, ho! How they will quarrel, and wail,and stamp their feet in anger! Our caves will be full today, oldSanta! Our caves are sure to be full!"

But to this, as to other like taunts, Santa Claus answered nothing.He was much grieved by his capture, it is true; but his courage didnot forsake him. And, finding that the prisoner would not reply tohis jeers, the Daemon of Malice presently went away, and sent theDaemon of Repentance to take his place.

This last personage was not so disagreeable as the others. He hadgentle and refined features, and his voice was soft and pleasant in tone.

"My brother Daemons do not trust me overmuch," said he, as he enteredthe cavern; "but it is morning, now, and the mischief is done. Youcannot visit the children again for another year."

"That is true," answered Santa Claus, almost cheerfully;
"Christmas Eve is past, and for the first time in centuries
I have not visited my children."

"The little ones will be greatly disappointed," murmured the Daemon ofRepentance, almost regretfully; "but that cannot be helped now. Theirgrief is likely to make the children selfish and envious and hateful,and if they come to the Caves of the Daemons today I shall get achance to lead some of them to my Cave of Repentance."

"Do you never repent, yourself?" asked Santa Claus, curiously.

"Oh, yes, indeed," answered the Daemon. "I am even now repenting thatI assisted in your capture. Of course it is too late to remedy theevil that has been done; but repentance, you know, can come only afteran evil thought or deed, for in the beginning there is nothing torepent of."

"So I understand," said Santa Claus. "Those who avoid evil need nevervisit your cave."

"As a rule, that is true," replied the Daemon; "yet you, who have doneno evil, are about to visit my cave at once; for to prove that I sincerelyregret my share in your capture I am going to permit you to escape."

This speech greatly surprised the prisoner, until he reflected that itwas just what might be expected of the Daemon of Repentance. Thefellow at once busied himself untying the knots that bound Santa Clausand unlocking the chains that fastened him to the wall. Then heled the way through a long tunnel until they both emerged in theCave of Repentance.

"I hope you will forgive me," said the Daemon pleadingly. "I am notreally a bad person, you know; and I believe I accomplish a great dealof good in the world."

With this he opened a back door that let in a flood of sunshine, and
Santa Claus sniffed the fresh air gratefully.

"I bear no malice," said he to the Daemon, in a gentle voice; "and Iam sure the world would be a dreary place without you. So, goodmorning, and a Merry Christmas to you!"

With these words he stepped out to greet the bright morning, and amoment later he was trudging along, whistling softly to himself, onhis way to his home in the Laughing Valley.

Marching over the snow toward the mountain was a vast army, made up ofthe most curious creatures imaginable. There were numberless knooksfrom the forest, as rough and crooked in appearance as the gnarledbranches of the trees they ministered to. And there were dainty rylsfrom the fields, each one bearing the emblem of the flower or plant itguarded. Behind these were many ranks of pixies, gnomes and nymphs, andin the rear a thousand beautiful fairies floated along in gorgeous array.

This wonderful army was led by Wisk, Peter, Nuter, and Kilter, who hadassembled it to rescue Santa Claus from captivity and to punish theDaemons who had dared to take him away from his beloved children.

And, although they looked so bright and peaceful, the little immortalswere armed with powers that would be very terrible to those who hadincurred their anger. Woe to the Daemons of the Caves if this mightyarmy of vengeance ever met them!

But lo! coming to meet his loyal friends appeared the imposing form ofSanta Claus, his white beard floating in the breeze and his brighteyes sparkling with pleasure at this proof of the love and venerationhe had inspired in the hearts of the most powerful creatures in existence.

And while they clustered around him and danced with glee at his safereturn, he gave them earnest thanks for their support. But Wisk, andNuter, and Peter, and Kilter, he embraced affectionately.

"It is useless to pursue the Daemons," said Santa Claus to the army."They have their place in the world, and can never be destroyed. Butthat is a great pity, nevertheless," he continued musingly.

So the fairies, and knooks, and pixies, and ryls all escorted the goodman to his castle, and there left him to talk over the events of thenight with his little assistants.

Wisk had already rendered himself invisible and flown through the bigworld to see how the children were getting along on this brightChristmas morning; and by the time he returned, Peter had finishedtelling Santa Claus of how they had distributed the toys.

"We really did very well," cried the fairy, in a pleased voice; "for Ifound little unhappiness among the children this morning. Still, youmust not get captured again, my dear master; for we might not be sofortunate another time in carrying out your ideas."

He then related the mistakes that had been made, and which he had notdiscovered until his tour of inspection. And Santa Claus at once senthim with rubber boots for Charlie Smith, and a doll for Mamie Brown;so that even those two disappointed ones became happy.

As for the wicked Daemons of the Caves, they were filled with angerand chagrin when they found that their clever capture of Santa Claushad come to naught. Indeed, no one on that Christmas Day appeared tobe at all selfish, or envious, or hateful. And, realizing that whilethe children's saint had so many powerful friends it was folly tooppose him, the Daemons never again attempted to interfere with hisjourneys on Christmas Eve.

End of Project Gutenberg's A Kidnapped Santa Claus, by L. Frank Baum

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