A kidnaps Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum. Santa Claus lives in the
Laughing Valley, where stands the big rambling castle in which his toys are manufactured.
His workmen, selected from the rills, nooks, pixies and fairies,
live with him, and every one is as busy as can be from one
year's end to another. It is called the Laughing Valley because everything there is
happy and gay. The brook chuckles to itself as it leaps, rollicking between
its green banks. The wind whistles merrily in the trees, the sunbeams dance
lightly over the soft grass, and the violets and wild flowers look smilingly up
from their green nests. To laugh, one needs to be happy. To
be happy, one needs to be content. And throughout the Laughing Valley of
Santa Claus, contentment reigns supreme. On one side is the mighty forest of
Bursey. At the other side stands the huge mountain that contains the caves of
the Demons, and between them the valley lies smiling and peaceful. One would
think that our good old Santa Claus, who devotes his days to making children
happy, would have no enemies on all the earth, and as a matter
of fact, for a long period of time he encountered nothing but love wherever
he might go. But the demons who live in the mountain caves grew to
hate Santa Claus very much, and all for the simple reason that he made
children happy. The caves of the demons are five in number. A broad
pathway leads up to the first cave, which is a finely arched cavern at
the foot of the mountain, the entrance being beautifully carved and decorated. In
it resides the demon of Selfishness. Back of this is another cavern inhabited by
the demon of Envy. The cave of the demon of Hatred is next in
order, and through this one passes to the home of the demon of Malice,
situated in a dark and fearful cave in the very heart of the mountain.
I do not know what lies beyond this. Some say there are terrible
pitfalls leading to death and destruction, and this may well be true. However,
from each one of the four caves mentioned there is a small, narrow
tunnel leading to the fifth cave, a cozy little room occupied by the demon
of repentance, and as the rocky floors of these passages are well worn by
the track of passing feet. I judge that many wanderers in the caves of
the demons have escaped through the tunnels to the abode of the demon of Repentance,
who is said to be a pleasant sort of fellow, who gladly opens
for one a little door, admitting you into fresh air and sunshine again.
Well, these demons of the caves, thinking they had great cause to dislike
old Santa Claus, held a meeting one day to discuss the matter. I'm
really getting lonesome, said the demon of selfishness, For Santa Claus distributes so
many pretty Christmas gifts to all the children that they become happy and generous through
his example, and keep away from my cave. I'm having the same trouble,
rejoined the demon of envy. The little 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 demon of hatred,
For if no children pass through the caves of selfishness and envy, none
can get to my cavern or to mine, added the demon of malice,
for my part, said the demon of repentance. It is easily seen that
if 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 the demon of envy. He
is simply ruining our business, and something must be done at once. To
this, they readily agreed, but what to do was another and more difficult
matter to settle. They knew that Santa Claus worked all through the year his
castle in the Laughing Valley, preparing the gifts he was to distribute on Christmas
Eve, and at first they resolved to try to tempt him into their caves,
that they might lead him on to the terrible pitfalls that ended in destruction.
So the very next day, while Santa Claus was busily at work,
surrounded by his little band of assistants, the demon of selfishness came to him
and said, these toys are wonderfully bright and pretty. Why do you not
keep them for yourself. It's a pity to give them to those noisy boys
and fretful girls who break and destroy them so quickly. Nonsense, cried the
old Graybeard, his bright eyes twinkling merrily as he turned toward the tempting demon.
The boys and girls are never so noisy and fretful after receiving my presence,
And if I can make them happy for one day in the year,
I am quite content. So the demon went back to the others who awaited
him in their caves, and said, I have failed, for Santa Claus
is not at all all selfish. The following day, the demon of envy
visited Santa Claus. Said he the toy shops are full of playthings quite as
pretty as those you are making. What a shame it is that they should
interfere with your business. They make toys by machinery much quicker than you can
make them by hand, and they sell them for money, while you get
nothing at all 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, he answered, for the children are many, and
I am but one, And as my work is one of love and kindness,
I would be ashamed to receive money for my little gifts. But throughout
all the year, the children must be amused in some way, and so
the toy shops are able to bring much happiness to my little friends. I
like the toy shops and am glad to see them prosper. In spite of
the second rebuff, the demon of hatred thought he would try to influence Santa
Claus, so the next day he entered the busy workshop and said, good
morning, Santa. I have bad news for you. Then run away like
a good fellow, answered Santa Claus. Bad news is something that should be
kept secret and never told. You cannot escape this, however, declared the
demon. For in the world are a good many who do not believe in
Santa Claus, and these you are 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 who sneer at you and call you
a foolish old rattle pate. You are quite right to hate such base slanderers,
and you ought to be revenged upon them for their evil words. But
I don't hate em, exclaimed Santa Claus. Positively. Such people do me
no real harm, but merely render themselves and their children unhappy, poor things.
I'd much farther help them any day than injure them. Indeed, the
demons could not tempt Old Santa Claus in any way. On the contrary,
he was shrewd enough to see that their object in visiting him was to make
mischief and trouble. And his cheery laughter disconcerted the evil ones and showed to
them the folly of such an undertaking. 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 in the Laughing Valley, for the fairies and rills and
nooks all protect him. But on Christmas Eve he drives his reindeer out into
the big world, carrying a sleigh load of toys and pretty gifts to the
children. And this was the time in the occasion when his enemies had the
best chance to injure him. So the demons laid their plans and awaited the
arrival of Christmas Eve. The moon shone big and white in the sky,
and the snow lay crisp and sparkling on the ground. As Santa Claus cracked
his whip and sped away out of the valley into the great world beyond.
The roomy sleigh was packed full with huge sacks of toys, and as the
reindeer dashed onward our jolly old Santa laughed and whistled and sang for very joy.
For in all his merry life, this was the one day in the
year when he was happiest, the day he lovingly bestowed the treasures of his
workshop upon the little children. It would be a busy night for him,
he well knew. As he whistled and shouted and cracked his whip again.
He reviewed in mind all the towns and cities and farmhouses where he was expected,
and figured that he had just enough presents to go around and make every
child happy. The reindeer knew exactly what was expected of them, and dashed
along so swiftly that their feet scarcely seemed to touch the snow covered ground.
Suddenly, a strange thing happened. A rope shot through the moonlight, and
a big noose that was in the end of it settled over the arms and
bodies of Santa Claus and drew tight. Before he could resist or even cry
out, he was jerked from the seat of the sleigh and tumbled head foremost
into a snow bank, while the reindeer rushed onward with the load of toys
and carried it quickly out of sight and sound. Such a surprising experience confused
Old Santa for a moment, and when he had collected his senses, he
found that the wicked demons had pulled him from the snow drift and bound him
tightly with many coils of the stout rope. And then they carried the kidnapped
Santa Claus away to their mountain, where they thrust the prisoner into a secret
cave and chained him to the rocky wall so that he could not escape.
Ha ha, laughed the demons, rubbing their hands together with cruel glee.
What will the children do now, How they will cry and scold and storm
when they find there are no toys in their stockings and no gifts on their
Christmas trees. And what a lot of punishment they will receive from their parents,
And how they will flock to our caves of selfishness and envy and hatred
and malice. We have done a mighty clever thing, we demons of the
caves. Now it's so chanced that on this Christmas Eve, the good Santa
Claus had taken with him in his sleigh, Nutter the Rill, Peter the
Nook, Kilter the Pixie, and a small fairy named Whisk, his four
favorite assistants. These little people he had often found very useful in helping him
to distribute his gifts to the children. And when their master was so suddenly
dragged from the sleigh, they were all snugly tucked underneath the seat, where
the sharp wind could not reach them. The tiny immortals knew nothing of the
capture of Santa Claus until some time after he had disappeared, But finally they
missed his cheery voice, and as their master always sang or whistled on his
journeys, the silence warned them that something was wrong. Little Whisk 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 and came to a halt. Peter and Nutter and Kilter
all jumped upon the seat and looked back over the track by the sleigh,
but Santa Claus had been left. Miles and miles behind. What shall we
do, asked whisk anxiously, all the mirth and mischief banished from his wee
face by this great calamity. We must go back at once and find our
master, said Nuttter, the rill, who thought and spoke with much deliberation.
No, no, exclaimed Peter the Knook, who cross and crabbed,
though he was might always be depended upon in an emergency. If we delay
or go back, there will not be time to get the toys to the
children before morning, and that would grieve Santa Claus more than anything else.
It is certain that some wicked creatures have captured him, added Kilter thoughtfully,
and their object must be to make the children unhappy. So our first duty
is to get the toys distributed as carefully as if Santa Claus were himself present.
Afterward we can search for our master and easily secure his freedom. This
seemed such good and sensible advice that the others at once resolved to adopt it.
So Peter the Knook called to the reindeer, and the faithful animals again
sprang forward and dashed over hill and valley, through forest and plain, until
they came to the houses where in children lay sleeping and dreaming of the pretty
gifts they would find on Christmas morning. The little immortals had set themselves a
difficult task, for although they had assisted Santa Claus on many of his journeys,
their master had always directed and guided them and told them exactly what he
wished them to do. But now they had to distribute the toys according to
their own judgment. And they did not understand children as well as did old
Santa, so it is no wonder they made some laughable errors. Mamie Brown,
who wanted a doll, got a drum instead, and a druma is
of no use to a girl who loves dolls. And Charlie Smith, who
delights to romp and play out of doors, and who wanted some new rubber
boots to keep his feet dry, received a sewing box filled with colored worsteds
and threads and needles, which made him so provoked that he thoughtlessly called our
dear Santa Claus a fraud. Had there been many such mistakes, the demons
would have accomplished their evil purpose and made the children unhappy. But the little
friends of the absent Santa Claus labored faithfully and intelligently to carry out their master's
ideas, and they made fewer errors than might be expected under such unusual circumstances.
And although they worked as swiftly as possible, day had begun to break
before the toys and other presents were all distributed, so for the first time
in many years, the reindeer trotted into the Laughing Valley on their return in
broad daylight, with the brilliant sun peeping over the edge of the forest,
to prove they were far behind their accustomed hours. Having put the deer in
the stable, the little folk began to wonder how they might rescue their master,
and they realized they must discover, first of all what had happened to
him and where he was. So Whisk the Fairy transported himself to the bower
of the Fairy Queen, which was located deep in the heart of the forest
of Bursey, and once there it did not take him long to find out
all about the naughty demons and how they had kidnapped the good Santa Claus to
prevent his making children happy. The Fairy Queen also promised her assistance, and
then, fortified by this powerful support, Whisk flew back to where Nutter and
Peter and Kilter awaited him, and the four counseled together and laid plans to
rescue their master from his enemies. It is possible that Santa Claus was not
as merry as usual during the night that succeeded his capture, for although he
had faith in the judgment of his little friends, he could not avoid a
certain amount of worry, and an anxious look would creep at times into his
kind old eyes as he thought of the disappointment that might await his dear little
children. And the demons who guarded him by turns, one after another did
not neglect to taunt him with contemptuous words in his helpless condition. When Christmas
Day dawned, the demon of malice was guarding the prisoner, and his tongue
was sharper than any of the others. The children are waking up, Santa,
he cried. They are waking up to find their stockings empty. Ho
ho, how they will quarrel and wail and stamp their feet in anger.
Our caves will be full to day, old Santa, 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 did not forsake him, and, finding that the prisoner
would not reply to his jeers, the demon of Malice presently went away and
sent the Demon of Repentance to take his place. This last personage was not
so disagreeable as the others. He had gentle and refined features, and his
voice was soft and pleasant in tone. My brother demons do not trust me
over much, said he as he entered the cavern. But it is morning
now and the mischief is done. You cannot 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 Demon of Repentance,
almost regretfully. But that cannot be helped now. Their grief is likely
to make the children selfish and envious and hateful. And if they come to
the Cave of the Demons today, I shall get a chance to lead some
of them to my cave of repentance. Do you never repent yourself? Asked
Santa Claus curiously. Oh, yes, indeed, answered the demon, I
am even now repenting that I assisted in your capture. Of course, it
is too late to remedy the evil that has been done. But repentance,
you know, can only come after an evil thought or deed, For in
the beginning there is nothing to repent of. So I understand, said Santa
Claus, those who avoid evil need never visit your cave, as a rule.
That is true, replied the demon. Yet you who have done no
evil, are about to visit my cave at once, for to prove that
I sincerely regret my share in your capture, I am going to permit you
to escape. This speech greatly surprised the prisoner, until he reflected that it
was just what might be expected of the Demon of Repentance. The fellow at
once busied himself untying the knots that bound Santa Claus and unlocking the chains that
fastened him to the wall. Then he led the way through a long tunnel
until they both emerged in the Cave of Repentance. I hope you will forgive
me, said the demon pleadingly. I am not really a bad person,
you know, and I believe I accomplish a great deal of good in the
world. With this, he opened a back door that led in a flood
of sunshine, and Santa Claus sniffed the fresh air gratefully. I bear no
malice, said he to the demon in a gentle voice, and I am
sure the world would be a dreary place without you. So good morning and
a merry Christmas to you. With these words, he stepped out to greet
the bright morning, and a moment later he was trudging along, whistling softly
to himself, on his way to his home in the Laughing Valley. Marching
over the snow toward the mountain was a vast army made of the most curious
creatures imaginable. There were numberless nooks from the forest, as rough and crooked
in appearance as the gnarled branches of the trees they ministered to, and there
were dainty rills from the fields, each one bearing the emblem of the flower
or plant it guarded. Behind these were many ranks of pixies, gnomes,
and nymphs, and in the rear a thousand beautiful fairies floated along in gorgeous
array. This wonderful army was led by whisk Peter Nutter, and Kilter,
who had assembled it to rescue Santa Claus from captivity and to punish the demons
who had dared to take him away from his beloved children. And although they
looked so bright and peaceful, the little immortals were armed with powers that would
be very terrible to those who had incurred their anger. Woe to the demons
of the caves, if this mighty army of vengeance ever met them. But
lo coming to meet his loyal friends, appeared the imposing form of Santa Claus,
his white beard floating in the breeze, and his bright eyes sparkling with
pleasure at this proof of the love and veneration he had inspired in the hearts
of the most powerful creatures in existence. And while they clustered around him and
danced with glee at his safe return, he gave them earnest thanks for their
support. But Whisk and Nutter, and Peter and Kilter he embraced affectionately.
It is useless to pursue the demons, said Santa Claus to the army.
They have their place in the world and can never be destroyed. But that
is a great pity. Nevertheless, he continued musingly, so the fear and
knooks, and pixies and rills all escorted the good man to his castle,
and there left him to talk over the events of the night. With his
little assistance, Whiske had already rendered himself invisible and flown through the big world
to see how the children were getting along on this bright Christmas morning, And
by the time he returned, Peter had finished telling Santa Claus of how they
had distributed the toys. We really did very well, cried the fairy in
a pleased voice, for I found little unhappiness among the children this morning.
Still you must not get captured again, my dear master, for we might
not be so fortunate another time in carrying out your ideas. He then related
the mistakes that had been made, and which he had not discovered until his
tour of inspection, and Santa Claus at once sent him with rubber boots for
Charlie Smith and a doll for Amie Brown, so that even those two disappointed
ones became happy. As for the wicked demons of the caves, they were
filled with anger and chagrin when they found that their clever capture of Santa Claus
had come to naught. Indeed, no one on that Christmas Day appeared to
be at all selfish or envious or hateful, And realizing that while the Children's
Saint had so many powerful friends, it was folly to oppose him, the
demons never again attempted to interfere with his journeys. On Christmas Eve, end
of a kidnapped Santa Claus