Introduction 1. The Cyclone 2. The Council with the Munchkins 3. How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow 4. The Road Through the Forest 5. The Rescue of the Tin Woodman 6. The Cowardly Lion 7. The Journey to the Great Oz 8. The Deadly Poppy Field 9. The Queen of the Field Mice 10. The Guardian of the Gates 11. The Emerald City of Oz 12. The Search for the Wicked Witch 13. The Rescue 14. The Winged Monkeys 15. The Discovery of Oz, the Terrible 16. The Magic Art of the Great Humbug 17. How the Balloon Was Launched 18. Away to the South 19. Attacked by the Fighting Trees 20. The Dainty China Country 21. The Lion Becomes the King of Beasts 22. The Country of the Quadlings 23. Glinda The Good Witch Grants Dorothy's Wish 24. Home Again
Folklore,
legends, myths and fairy tales have followed childhood through the ages, for
every healthy youngster has a wholesome and instinctive love for stories
fantastic, marvelous and manifestly unreal. The winged fairies of Grimm and
Andersen have brought more happiness to childish hearts than all other human
creations.
Yet
the old time fairy tale, having served for generations, may now be classed as
"historical" in the children's library; for the time has come for a
series of newer "wonder tales" in which the stereotyped genie, dwarf
and fairy are eliminated, together with all the horrible and blood-curdling
incidents devised by their authors to point a fearsome moral to each tale.
Modern education includes morality; therefore the modern child seeks only
entertainment in its wonder tales and gladly dispenses with all disagreeable incident.
Having
this thought in mind, the story of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" was
written solely to please children of today. It aspires to being a modernized
fairy tale, in which the wonderment and joy are retained and the heartaches and
nightmares are left out.
L. Frank Baum
Chicago, April, 1900.
Dorothy
lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies, with Uncle Henry, who was a
farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer's wife. Their house was small, for the
lumber to build it had to be carried by wagon many miles. There were four
walls, a floor and a roof, which made one room; and this room contained a rusty
looking cookstove, a cupboard for the dishes, a table, three or four chairs,
and the beds. Uncle Henry and Aunt Em had a big bed in one corner, and Dorothy
a little bed in another corner. There was no garret at all, and no
cellar--except a small hole dug in the ground, called a cyclone cellar, where
the family could go in case one of those great whirlwinds arose, mighty enough
to crush any building in its path. It was reached by a trap door in the middle
of the floor, from which a ladder led down into the small, dark hole.
When
Dorothy stood in the doorway and looked around, she could see nothing but the
great gray prairie on every side. Not a tree nor a
house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached to the edge of the sky
in all directions. The sun had baked the plowed land into a gray mass, with
little cracks running through it. Even the grass was not green, for the sun had
burned the tops of the long blades until they were the same gray color to be
seen everywhere. Once the house had been painted, but the sun blistered the
paint and the rains washed it away, and now the house was as dull and gray as
everything else.
When
Aunt Em came there to live she was a young, pretty wife. The sun and wind had
changed her, too. They had taken the sparkle from her eyes and left them a sober
gray; they had taken the red from her cheeks and lips, and they were gray also.
She was thin and gaunt, and never smiled now. When Dorothy, who was an orphan,
first came to her, Aunt Em had been so startled by the child's laughter that
she would scream and press her hand upon her heart whenever Dorothy's merry
voice reached her ears; and she still looked at the little girl with wonder
that she could find anything to laugh at.
Uncle
Henry never laughed. He worked hard from morning till night and did not know
what joy was. He was gray also, from his long beard to his rough boots, and he
looked stern and solemn, and rarely spoke.
It was
Toto that made Dorothy laugh, and saved her from growing as gray as her other
surroundings. Toto was not gray; he was a little black dog, with long silky
hair and small black eyes that twinkled merrily on either side of his funny,
wee nose. Toto played all day long, and Dorothy played with him, and loved him
dearly.
Today,
however, they were not playing. Uncle Henry sat upon the doorstep and looked
anxiously at the sky, which was even grayer than usual. Dorothy stood in the
door with Toto in her arms, and looked at the sky too. Aunt Em was washing the
dishes.
From
the far north they heard a low wail of the wind, and Uncle Henry and Dorothy
could see where the long grass bowed in waves before the coming storm. There
now came a sharp whistling in the air from the south, and as they turned their
eyes that way they saw ripples in the grass coming from that direction also.
Suddenly
Uncle Henry stood up.
"There's
a cyclone coming, Em," he called to his wife. "I'll go look after the
stock." Then he ran toward the sheds where the cows and horses were kept.
Aunt
Em dropped her work and came to the door. One glance told her of the danger
close at hand.
"Quick,
Dorothy!" she screamed. "Run for the cellar!"
Toto
jumped out of Dorothy's arms and hid under the bed, and the girl started to get
him. Aunt Em, badly frightened, threw open the trap door in the floor and
climbed down the ladder into the small, dark hole. Dorothy caught Toto at last
and started to follow her aunt. When she was halfway across the room there came a great shriek from the wind, and the house shook so
hard that she lost her footing and sat down suddenly upon the floor.
Then a
strange thing happened.
The
house whirled around two or three times and rose slowly through the air.
Dorothy felt as if she were going up in a balloon.
The
north and south winds met where the house stood, and made it the exact center
of the cyclone. In the middle of a cyclone the air is generally still, but the
great pressure of the wind on every side of the house raised it up higher and
higher, until it was at the very top of the cyclone; and there it remained and
was carried miles and miles away as easily as you could carry a feather.
It was
very dark, and the wind howled horribly around her, but Dorothy found she was
riding quite easily. After the first few whirls around, and one other time when
the house tipped badly, she felt as if she were being rocked gently, like a
baby in a cradle.
Toto
did not like it. He ran about the room, now here, now there, barking loudly;
but Dorothy sat quite still on the floor and waited to see what would happen.
Once
Toto got too near the open trap door, and fell in; and at first the little girl
thought she had lost him. But soon she saw one of his ears sticking up through
the hole, for the strong pressure of the air was keeping him up so that he
could not fall. She crept to the hole, caught Toto by the ear, and dragged him
into the room again, afterward closing the trap door so that no more accidents
could happen.
Hour
after hour passed away, and slowly Dorothy got over her fright; but she felt
quite lonely, and the wind shrieked so loudly all about her that she nearly
became deaf. At first she had wondered if she would be dashed to pieces when
the house fell again; but as the hours passed and nothing terrible happened,
she stopped worrying and resolved to wait calmly and see what the future would
bring. At last she crawled over the swaying floor to her bed, and lay down upon
it; and Toto followed and lay down beside her.
In
spite of the swaying of the house and the wailing of the wind, Dorothy soon
closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.
She
was awakened by a shock, so sudden and severe that if Dorothy had not been
lying on the soft bed she might have been hurt. As it was, the jar made her
catch her breath and wonder what had happened; and Toto put his cold little
nose into her face and whined dismally. Dorothy sat up and noticed that the
house was not moving; nor was it dark, for the bright sunshine came in at the
window, flooding the little room. She sprang from her bed and with Toto at her
heels ran and opened the door.
The
little girl gave a cry of amazement and looked about her, her eyes growing
bigger and bigger at the wonderful sights she saw.
The
cyclone had set the house down very gently--for a cyclone--in the midst of a
country of marvelous beauty. There were lovely patches of greensward all about,
with stately trees bearing rich and luscious fruits. Banks of gorgeous flowers
were on every hand, and birds with rare and brilliant plumage sang and
fluttered in the trees and bushes. A little way off was a small brook, rushing
and sparkling along between green banks, and murmuring in a voice very grateful
to a little girl who had lived so long on the dry, gray prairies.
While
she stood looking eagerly at the strange and beautiful sights, she noticed
coming toward her a group of the queerest people she had ever seen. They were
not as big as the grown folk she had always been used to; but neither were they
very small. In fact, they seemed about as tall as Dorothy, who was a well-grown
child for her age, although they were, so far as looks go, many years older.
Three
were men and one a woman, and all were oddly dressed.
They wore round hats that rose to a small point a foot above their heads, with
little bells around the brims that tinkled sweetly as they moved. The hats of
the men were blue; the little woman's hat was white, and she wore a white gown
that hung in pleats from her shoulders. Over it were sprinkled little stars
that glistened in the sun like diamonds. The men were dressed in blue, of the
same shade as their hats, and wore well-polished boots with a deep roll of blue
at the tops. The men, Dorothy thought, were about as old as Uncle Henry, for
two of them had beards. But the little woman was doubtless much older. Her face
was covered with wrinkles, her hair was nearly white, and she walked rather
stiffly.
When
these people drew near the house where Dorothy was standing in the doorway,
they paused and whispered among themselves, as if afraid to come farther. But
the little old woman walked up to Dorothy, made a low bow and said, in a sweet
voice:
"You
are welcome, most noble Sorceress, to the land of the Munchkins. We are so
grateful to you for having killed the Wicked Witch of the East, and for setting
our people free from bondage."
Dorothy
listened to this speech with wonder. What could the little woman possibly mean
by calling her a sorceress, and saying she had killed the Wicked Witch of the
East? Dorothy was an innocent, harmless little girl, who had been carried by a
cyclone many miles from home; and she had never killed anything in all her
life.
But
the little woman evidently expected her to answer; so Dorothy said, with
hesitation, "You are very kind, but there must be some mistake. I have not
killed anything."
"Your
house did, anyway," replied the little old woman,
with a laugh, "and that is the same thing. See!" she continued,
pointing to the corner of the house. "There are her two feet, still
sticking out from under a block of wood."
Dorothy
looked, and gave a little cry of fright. There, indeed, just under the corner
of the great beam the house rested on, two feet were sticking out, shod in
silver shoes with pointed toes.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" cried Dorothy, clasping her hands together in
dismay. "The house must have fallen on her. Whatever shall we do?"
"There
is nothing to be done," said the little woman calmly.
"But
who was she?" asked Dorothy.
"She
was the Wicked Witch of the East, as I said," answered the little woman.
"She has held all the Munchkins in bondage for many years, making them
slave for her night and day. Now they are all set free, and are grateful to you
for the favor."
"Who
are the Munchkins?" inquired Dorothy.
"They
are the people who live in this land of the East where the Wicked Witch
ruled."
"Are
you a Munchkin?" asked Dorothy.
"No,
but I am their friend, although I live in the land of the North. When they saw
the Witch of the East was dead the Munchkins sent a swift messenger to me, and
I came at once. I am the Witch of the North."
"Oh,
gracious!" cried Dorothy. "Are you a real witch?"
"Yes,
indeed," answered the little woman. "But I am a good witch, and the
people love me. I am not as powerful as the Wicked Witch was who ruled here, or
I should have set the people free myself."
"But
I thought all witches were wicked," said the girl, who was half frightened
at facing a real witch. "Oh, no, that is a great mistake. There were only
four witches in all the Land of Oz, and two of them, those who live in the
North and the South, are good witches. I know this is true, for I am one of
them myself, and cannot be mistaken. Those who dwelt in the East and the West
were, indeed, wicked witches; but now that you have killed one of them, there
is but one Wicked Witch in all the Land of Oz--the one who lives in the
West."
"But," said Dorothy, after a moment's thought,
"Aunt Em has told me that the witches were all dead--years and years
ago."
"Who
is Aunt Em?" inquired the little old woman.
"She
is my aunt who lives in Kansas, where I came from."
The
Witch of the North seemed to think for a time, with her head bowed and her eyes
upon the ground. Then she looked up and said, "I do not know where Kansas
is, for I have never heard that country mentioned before. But tell me, is it a
civilized country?"
"Oh,
yes," replied Dorothy.
"Then
that accounts for it. In the civilized countries I believe there are no witches
left, nor wizards, nor sorceresses, nor magicians. But, you see, the Land of Oz
has never been civilized, for we are cut off from all the rest of the world.
Therefore we still have witches and wizards amongst us."
"Who
are the wizards?" asked Dorothy.
"Oz
himself is the Great Wizard," answered the Witch, sinking her voice to a
whisper. "He is more powerful than all the rest of us together. He lives
in the City of Emeralds."
Dorothy
was going to ask another question, but just then the Munchkins, who had been
standing silently by, gave a loud shout and pointed to the corner of the house
where the Wicked Witch had been lying.
"What
is it?" asked the little old woman, and looked, and began to laugh. The
feet of the dead Witch had disappeared entirely, and nothing was left but the
silver shoes.
"She
was so old," explained the Witch of the North, "that she dried up
quickly in the sun. That is the end of her. But the silver shoes are yours, and
you shall have them to wear." She reached down and picked up the shoes,
and after shaking the dust out of them handed them to Dorothy.
"The
Witch of the East was proud of those silver shoes," said one of the
Munchkins, "and there is some charm connected with them; but what it is we
never knew."
Dorothy
carried the shoes into the house and placed them on the table. Then she came
out again to the Munchkins and said:
"I
am anxious to get back to my aunt and uncle, for I am sure they will worry
about me. Can you help me find my way?"
The
Munchkins and the Witch first looked at one another, and then at Dorothy, and
then shook their heads.
"At
the East, not far from here," said one, "there is a great desert, and
none could live to cross it."
"It
is the same at the South," said another, "for I have been there and
seen it. The South is the country of the Quadlings."
"I
am told," said the third man, "that it is the same at the West. And
that country, where the Winkies live, is ruled by the Wicked Witch of the West,
who would make you her slave if you passed her way."
"The
North is my home," said the old lady, "and at its edge is the same
great desert that surrounds this Land of Oz. I'm afraid, my dear, you will have
to live with us."
Dorothy
began to sob at this, for she felt lonely among all these strange people. Her
tears seemed to grieve the kind-hearted Munchkins, for they immediately took
out their handkerchiefs and began to weep also. As for the little old woman,
she took off her cap and balanced the point on the end of her nose, while she
counted "One, two, three" in a solemn voice. At once the cap changed
to a slate, on which was written in big, white chalk marks:
The
little old woman took the slate from her nose, and having read the words on it,
asked, "Is your name Dorothy, my dear?"
"Yes,"
answered the child, looking up and drying her tears.
"Then
you must go to the City of Emeralds. Perhaps Oz will help you."
"Where
is this city?" asked Dorothy.
"It
is exactly in the center of the country, and is ruled by Oz, the Great Wizard I
told you of."
"Is
he a good man?" inquired the girl anxiously.
"He
is a good Wizard. Whether he is a man or not I cannot tell,
for I have never seen him."
"How
can I get there?" asked Dorothy.
"You
must walk. It is a long journey, through a country that is sometimes pleasant
and sometimes dark and terrible. However, I will use all the magic arts I know
of to keep you from harm."
"Won't
you go with me?" pleaded the girl, who had begun to look upon the little
old woman as her only friend.
"No,
I cannot do that," she replied, "but I will give you my kiss, and no
one will dare injure a person who has been kissed by the Witch of the
North."
She
came close to Dorothy and kissed her gently on the forehead. Where her lips
touched the girl they left a round, shining mark, as Dorothy found out soon
after.
"The
road to the City of Emeralds is paved with yellow brick," said the Witch,
"so you cannot miss it. When you get to Oz do not be afraid of him, but
tell your story and ask him to help you. Good-bye, my dear."
The
three Munchkins bowed low to her and wished her a pleasant journey, after which
they walked away through the trees. The Witch gave Dorothy a friendly little
nod, whirled around on her left heel three times, and straightway disappeared,
much to the surprise of little Toto, who barked after her loudly enough when
she had gone, because he had been afraid even to growl while she stood by.
But
Dorothy, knowing her to be a witch, had expected her to disappear in just that
way, and was not surprised in the least.
When
Dorothy was left alone she began to feel hungry. So she went to the cupboard
and cut herself some bread, which she spread with butter. She gave some to
Toto, and taking a pail from the shelf she carried it down to the little brook
and filled it with clear, sparkling water. Toto ran over to the trees and began
to bark at the birds sitting there. Dorothy went to get him, and saw such
delicious fruit hanging from the branches that she gathered some of it, finding
it just what she wanted to help out her breakfast.
Then
she went back to the house, and having helped herself and Toto to a good drink
of the cool, clear water, she set about making ready for the journey to the
City of Emeralds.
Dorothy
had only one other dress, but that happened to be clean and was hanging on a
peg beside her bed. It was gingham, with checks of white and blue; and although
the blue was somewhat faded with many washings, it was
still a pretty frock. The girl washed herself carefully, dressed herself in the
clean gingham, and tied her pink sunbonnet on her head. She took a little
basket and filled it with bread from the cupboard, laying a white cloth over
the top. Then she looked down at her feet and noticed how old and worn her
shoes were.
"They
surely will never do for a long journey, Toto," she said. And Toto looked
up into her face with his little black eyes and wagged his tail to show he knew
what she meant.
At
that moment Dorothy saw lying on the table the silver shoes that had belonged
to the Witch of the East.
"I
wonder if they will fit me," she said to Toto. "They would be just
the thing to take a long walk in, for they could not wear out."
She
took off her old leather shoes and tried on the silver ones, which fitted her
as well as if they had been made for her.
Finally
she picked up her basket.
"Come
along, Toto," she said. "We will go to the Emerald City and ask the
Great Oz how to get back to Kansas again."
She
closed the door, locked it, and put the key carefully in the pocket of her
dress. And so, with Toto trotting along soberly behind her, she started on her
journey.
There
were several roads near by, but it did not take her long to find the one paved
with yellow bricks. Within a short time she was walking briskly toward the
Emerald City, her silver shoes tinkling merrily on the hard, yellow road-bed.
The sun shone bright and the birds sang sweetly, and Dorothy did not feel nearly
so bad as you might think a little girl would who had been suddenly whisked
away from her own country and set down in the midst of a strange land.
She
was surprised, as she walked along, to see how pretty the country was about
her. There were neat fences at the sides of the road, painted a dainty blue
color, and beyond them were fields of grain and vegetables in abundance.
Evidently the Munchkins were good farmers and able to raise large crops. Once
in a while she would pass a house, and the people came out to look at her and
bow low as she went by; for everyone knew she had been the means of destroying
the Wicked Witch and setting them free from bondage. The houses of the
Munchkins were odd-looking dwellings, for each was round, with a big dome for a
roof. All were painted blue, for in this country of the East blue was the
favorite color.
Toward
evening, when Dorothy was tired with her long walk and began to wonder where
she should pass the night, she came to a house rather larger than the rest. On the
green lawn before it many men and women were dancing. Five little fiddlers
played as loudly as possible, and the people were laughing and singing, while a
big table near by was loaded with delicious fruits and nuts, pies and cakes,
and many other good things to eat.
The
people greeted Dorothy kindly, and invited her to supper and to pass the night
with them; for this was the home of one of the richest Munchkins in the land,
and his friends were gathered with him to celebrate their freedom from the bondage
of the Wicked Witch.
Dorothy
ate a hearty supper and was waited upon by the rich Munchkin himself, whose
name was Boq. Then she sat upon a settee and watched
the people dance.
When Boq saw her silver shoes he said, "You must be a great
sorceress."
"Why?"
asked the girl.
"Because
you wear silver shoes and have killed the Wicked Witch. Besides, you have white
in your frock, and only witches and sorceresses wear white."
"My
dress is blue and white checked," said Dorothy, smoothing out the wrinkles
in it.
"It
is kind of you to wear that," said Boq.
"Blue is the color of the Munchkins, and white is the witch color. So we
know you are a friendly witch."
Dorothy
did not know what to say to this, for all the people seemed to think her a
witch, and she knew very well she was only an ordinary little girl who had come
by the chance of a cyclone into a strange land.
When
she had tired watching the dancing, Boq led her into
the house, where he gave her a room with a pretty bed in it. The sheets were
made of blue cloth, and Dorothy slept soundly in them till morning, with Toto
curled up on the blue rug beside her.
She
ate a hearty breakfast, and watched a wee Munchkin baby, who played with Toto
and pulled his tail and crowed and laughed in a way that greatly amused
Dorothy. Toto was a fine curiosity to all the people, for they had never seen a
dog before.
"How
far is it to the Emerald City?" the girl asked.
"I
do not know," answered Boq gravely, "for I
have never been there. It is better for people to keep away from Oz, unless
they have business with him. But it is a long way to the Emerald City, and it
will take you many days. The country here is rich and pleasant, but you must
pass through rough and dangerous places before you reach the end of your
journey."
This
worried Dorothy a little, but she knew that only the Great Oz could help her
get to Kansas again, so she bravely resolved not to turn back.
She
bade her friends good-bye, and again started along the
road of yellow brick. When she had gone several miles she thought she would
stop to rest, and so climbed to the top of the fence beside the road and sat
down. There was a great cornfield beyond the fence, and not far away she saw a
Scarecrow, placed high on a pole to keep the birds from the ripe corn.
Dorothy
leaned her chin upon her hand and gazed thoughtfully at the Scarecrow. Its head
was a small sack stuffed with straw, with eyes, nose, and mouth painted on it
to represent a face. An old, pointed blue hat, that had
belonged to some Munchkin, was perched on his head, and the rest of the
figure was a blue suit of clothes, worn and faded, which had also been stuffed
with straw. On the feet were some old boots with blue tops, such as every man
wore in this country, and the figure was raised above the stalks of corn by
means of the pole stuck up its back.
While
Dorothy was looking earnestly into the queer, painted face of the Scarecrow,
she was surprised to see one of the eyes slowly wink at her. She thought she
must have been mistaken at first, for none of the scarecrows in Kansas ever
wink; but presently the figure nodded its head to her in a friendly way. Then
she climbed down from the fence and walked up to it, while Toto ran around the
pole and barked.
"Good
day," said the Scarecrow, in a rather husky voice.
"Did
you speak?" asked the girl, in wonder.
"Certainly,"
answered the Scarecrow. "How do you do?"
"I'm
pretty well, thank you," replied Dorothy politely. "How
do you do?"
"I'm
not feeling well," said the Scarecrow, with a smile, "for it is very tedious
being perched up here night and day to scare away crows."
"Can't
you get down?" asked Dorothy.
"No,
for this pole is stuck up my back. If you will please take away the pole I shall be greatly obliged to you."
Dorothy
reached up both arms and lifted the figure off the pole, for, being stuffed
with straw, it was quite light.
"Thank
you very much," said the Scarecrow, when he had been set down on the
ground. "I feel like a new man."
Dorothy
was puzzled at this, for it sounded queer to hear a stuffed man speak, and to
see him bow and walk along beside her.
"Who
are you?" asked the Scarecrow when he had stretched himself and yawned.
"And where are you going?"
"My
name is Dorothy," said the girl, "and I am going to the Emerald City,
to ask the Great Oz to send me back to Kansas."
"Where
is the Emerald City?" he inquired. "And who is Oz?"
"Why,
don't you know?" she returned, in surprise.
"No, indeed. I don't know anything. You see, I am stuffed, so I have no brains
at all," he answered sadly.
"Oh,"
said Dorothy, "I'm awfully sorry for you."
"Do
you think," he asked, "if I go to the Emerald City with you, that Oz
would give me some brains?"
"I
cannot tell," she returned, "but you may come with me, if you like.
If Oz will not give you any brains you will be no worse off than you are
now."
"That
is true," said the Scarecrow. "You see," he continued
confidentially, "I don't mind my legs and arms and body being stuffed,
because I cannot get hurt. If anyone treads on my toes or sticks a pin into me,
it doesn't matter, for I can't feel it. But I do not want people to call me a
fool, and if my head stays stuffed with straw instead of with brains, as yours
is, how am I ever to know anything?"
"I
understand how you feel," said the little girl, who was truly sorry for
him. "If you will come with me I'll ask Oz to do all he can for you."
"Thank
you," he answered gratefully.
They
walked back to the road. Dorothy helped him over the fence, and they started
along the path of yellow brick for the Emerald City.
Toto
did not like this addition to the party at first. He smelled around the stuffed
man as if he suspected there might be a nest of rats in the straw, and he often
growled in an unfriendly way at the Scarecrow.
"Don't
mind Toto," said Dorothy to her new friend. "He never bites."
"Oh,
I'm not afraid," replied the Scarecrow. "He can't hurt the straw. Do
let me carry that basket for you. I shall not mind it, for I can't get tired.
I'll tell you a secret," he continued, as he walked along. "There is
only one thing in the world I am afraid of."
"What
is that?" asked Dorothy; "the Munchkin farmer who made you?"
"No,"
answered the Scarecrow; "it's a lighted match."
After
a few hours the road began to be rough, and the walking grew so difficult that
the Scarecrow often stumbled over the yellow bricks, which were here very
uneven. Sometimes, indeed, they were broken or missing altogether, leaving
holes that Toto jumped across and Dorothy walked around. As for the Scarecrow,
having no brains, he walked straight ahead, and so stepped into the holes and
fell at full length on the hard bricks. It never hurt him, however, and Dorothy
would pick him up and set him upon his feet again, while he joined her in
laughing merrily at his own mishap.
The
farms were not nearly so well cared for here as they
were farther back. There were fewer houses and fewer fruit trees, and the
farther they went the more dismal and lonesome the country became.
At
noon they sat down by the roadside, near a little brook, and Dorothy opened her
basket and got out some bread. She offered a piece to the Scarecrow, but he
refused.
"I
am never hungry," he said, "and it is a lucky thing I am not, for my
mouth is only painted, and if I should cut a hole in it so I could eat, the
straw I am stuffed with would come out, and that would spoil the shape of my
head."
Dorothy
saw at once that this was true, so she only nodded and went on eating her
bread.
"Tell
me something about yourself and the country you came from," said the
Scarecrow, when she had finished her dinner. So she told him all about Kansas,
and how gray everything was there, and how the cyclone had carried her to this
queer Land of Oz.
The
Scarecrow listened carefully, and said, "I cannot understand why you
should wish to leave this beautiful country and go back to the dry, gray place
you call Kansas."
"That
is because you have no brains" answered the girl. "No matter how
dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would rather live
there than in any other country, be it ever so
beautiful. There is no place like home."
The
Scarecrow sighed.
"Of
course I cannot understand it," he said. "If your heads were stuffed
with straw, like mine, you would probably all live in the beautiful places, and
then Kansas would have no people at all. It is fortunate for Kansas that you
have brains."
"Won't
you tell me a story, while we are resting?" asked the child.
The
Scarecrow looked at her reproachfully, and answered:
"My
life has been so short that I really know nothing whatever. I was only made day
before yesterday. What happened in the world before that time is all unknown to
me. Luckily, when the farmer made my head, one of the first things he did was
to paint my ears, so that I heard what was going on. There was another Munchkin
with him, and the first thing I heard was the farmer saying, `How do you like
those ears?'
"`They
aren't straight,'" answered the other.
"`Never
mind,'" said the farmer. "`They are ears just the same,'" which
was true enough.
"`Now
I'll make the eyes,'" said the farmer. So he painted my right eye, and as
soon as it was finished I found myself looking at him and at everything around
me with a great deal of curiosity, for this was my first glimpse of the world.
"`That's
a rather pretty eye,'" remarked the Munchkin who was watching the farmer.
"`Blue paint is just the color for eyes.'
"`I
think I'll make the other a little bigger,'" said the farmer. And when the
second eye was done I could see much better than before. Then he made my nose
and my mouth. But I did not speak, because at that time I didn't know what a
mouth was for. I had the fun of watching them make my body and my arms and
legs; and when they fastened on my head, at last, I felt very proud, for I
thought I was just as good a man as anyone.
"`This
fellow will scare the crows fast enough,' said the farmer. `He looks just like
a man.'
"`Why,
he is a man,' said the other, and I quite agreed with him. The farmer carried
me under his arm to the cornfield, and set me up on a tall stick, where you
found me. He and his friend soon after walked away and left me alone.
"I
did not like to be deserted this way. So I tried to walk after them. But my
feet would not touch the ground, and I was forced to stay on that pole. It was
a lonely life to lead, for I had nothing to think of, having been made such a
little while before. Many crows and other birds flew into the cornfield, but as
soon as they saw me they flew away again, thinking I was a Munchkin; and this
pleased me and made me feel that I was quite an important person. By and by an
old crow flew near me, and after looking at me carefully he perched upon my
shoulder and said:
"`I
wonder if that farmer thought to fool me in this clumsy manner. Any crow of
sense could see that you are only stuffed with straw.' Then he hopped down at
my feet and ate all the corn he wanted. The other birds, seeing he was not
harmed by me, came to eat the corn too, so in a short time there was a great
flock of them about me.
"I
felt sad at this, for it showed I was not such a good Scarecrow after all; but
the old crow comforted me, saying, `If you only had brains in your head you
would be as good a man as any of them, and a better man than some of them.
Brains are the only things worth having in this world, no matter whether one is
a crow or a man.'
"After
the crows had gone I thought this over, and decided I would try hard to get
some brains. By good luck you came along and pulled me off the stake, and from
what you say I am sure the Great Oz will give me brains as soon as we get to
the Emerald City."
"I
hope so," said Dorothy earnestly, "since you seem anxious to have
them."
"Oh,
yes; I am anxious," returned the Scarecrow. "It is such an
uncomfortable feeling to know one is a fool."
"Well,"
said the girl, "let us go." And she handed the basket to the
Scarecrow.
There
were no fences at all by the roadside now, and the land was rough and untilled.
Toward evening they came to a great forest, where the trees grew so big and
close together that their branches met over the road of yellow brick. It was
almost dark under the trees, for the branches shut out the daylight; but the
travelers did not stop, and went on into the forest.
"If
this road goes in, it must come out," said the Scarecrow, "and as the
Emerald City is at the other end of the road, we must go wherever it leads
us."
"Anyone
would know that," said Dorothy.
"Certainly;
that is why I know it," returned the Scarecrow. "If it required
brains to figure it out, I never should have said it."
After
an hour or so the light faded away, and they found themselves stumbling along
in the darkness. Dorothy could not see at all, but Toto could, for some dogs
see very well in the dark; and the Scarecrow declared he could see as well as
by day. So she took hold of his arm and managed to get along fairly well.
"If
you see any house, or any place where we can pass the night," she said,
"you must tell me; for it is very uncomfortable walking in the dark."
Soon after the Scarecrow stopped.
"I
see a little cottage at the right of us," he said, "built of logs and
branches. Shall we go there?"
"Yes,
indeed," answered the child. "I am all tired out."
So the
Scarecrow led her through the trees until they reached the cottage, and Dorothy
entered and found a bed of dried leaves in one corner. She lay
down at once, and with Toto beside her soon fell into a sound sleep. The
Scarecrow, who was never tired, stood up in another corner and waited patiently
until morning came.
When
Dorothy awoke the sun was shining through the trees and Toto had long been out
chasing birds around him and squirrels. She sat up and looked around her. Scarecrow, still standing patiently in his corner, waiting for her.
"We
must go and search for water," she said to him.
"Why
do you want water?" he asked.
"To
wash my face clean after the dust of the road, and to
drink, so the dry bread will not stick in my throat."
"It
must be inconvenient to be made of flesh," said the Scarecrow
thoughtfully, "for you must sleep, and eat and drink. However, you have
brains, and it is worth a lot of bother to be able to think properly."
They
left the cottage and walked through the trees until they found a little spring
of clear water, where Dorothy drank and bathed and ate her breakfast. She saw
there was not much bread left in the basket, and the girl was thankful the
Scarecrow did not have to eat anything, for there was scarcely enough for
herself and Toto for the day.
When
she had finished her meal, and was about to go back to the road of yellow
brick, she was startled to hear a deep groan near by.
"What
was that?" she asked timidly.
"I
cannot imagine," replied the Scarecrow; "but we can go and see."
Just
then another groan reached their ears, and the sound seemed to come from behind
them. They turned and walked through the forest a few steps, when Dorothy
discovered something shining in a ray of sunshine that fell between the trees.
She ran to the place and then stopped short, with a little cry of surprise.
One of
the big trees had been partly chopped through, and standing beside it, with an
uplifted axe in his hands, was a man made entirely of tin. His head and arms
and legs were jointed upon his body, but he stood perfectly motionless, as if
he could not stir at all.
Dorothy
looked at him in amazement, and so did the Scarecrow, while Toto barked sharply
and made a snap at the tin legs, which hurt his teeth.
"Did
you groan?" asked Dorothy.
"Yes,"
answered the tin man, "I did. I've been groaning for more than a year, and
no one has ever heard me before or come to help me."
"What
can I do for you?" she inquired softly, for she was moved by the sad voice
in which the man spoke.
"Get
an oil-can and oil my joints," he answered. "They are rusted so badly
that I cannot move them at all; if I am well oiled I shall soon be all right
again. You will find an oil-can on a shelf in my cottage."
Dorothy
at once ran back to the cottage and found the oil-can, and then she returned
and asked anxiously, "Where are your joints?"
"Oil
my neck, first," replied the Tin Woodman. So she oiled it, and as it was
quite badly rusted the Scarecrow took hold of the tin head and moved it gently
from side to side until it worked freely, and then the man could turn it
himself.
"Now
oil the joints in my arms," he said. And Dorothy oiled them and the
Scarecrow bent them carefully until they were quite free from rust and as good
as new.
The
Tin Woodman gave a sigh of satisfaction and lowered his axe, which he leaned
against the tree.
"This
is a great comfort," he said. "I have been holding that axe in the
air ever since I rusted, and I'm glad to be able to put it down at last. Now,
if you will oil the joints of my legs, I shall be all right once more."
So
they oiled his legs until he could move them freely; and he thanked them again
and again for his release, for he seemed a very polite creature, and very
grateful.
"I
might have stood there always if you had not come along," he said;
"so you have certainly saved my life. How did you happen to be here?"
"We
are on our way to the Emerald City to see the Great Oz," she answered,
"and we stopped at your cottage to pass the night."
"Why
do you wish to see Oz?" he asked.
"I
want him to send me back to Kansas, and the Scarecrow wants him to put a few
brains into his head," she replied.
The
Tin Woodman appeared to think deeply for a moment. Then he said:
"Do
you suppose Oz could give me a heart?"
"Why,
I guess so," Dorothy answered. "It would be as easy as to give the
Scarecrow brains."
"True,"
the Tin Woodman returned. "So, if you will allow me to join your party, I
will also go to the Emerald City and ask Oz to help me."
"Come
along," said the Scarecrow heartily, and Dorothy added that she would be
pleased to have his company. So the Tin Woodman shouldered his axe and they all
passed through the forest until they came to the road that was paved with
yellow brick.
The
Tin Woodman had asked Dorothy to put the oil-can in her basket.
"For," he said, "if I should get caught in the rain, and rust again,
I would need the oil-can badly."
It was
a bit of good luck to have their new comrade join the party, for soon after
they had begun their journey again they came to a place where the trees and
branches grew so thick over the road that the travelers could not pass. But the
Tin Woodman set to work with his axe and chopped so well that soon he cleared a
passage for the entire party.
Dorothy
was thinking so earnestly as they walked along that
she did not notice when the Scarecrow stumbled into a hole and rolled over to
the side of the road. Indeed he was obliged to call to her to help him up
again.
"Why
didn't you walk around the hole?" asked the Tin Woodman.
"I
don't know enough," replied the Scarecrow cheerfully. "My head is
stuffed with straw, you know, and that is why I am going to Oz to ask him for
some brains."
"Oh,
I see," said the Tin Woodman. "But, after all, brains are not the
best things in the world."
"Have
you any?" inquired the Scarecrow.
"No,
my head is quite empty," answered the Woodman. "But once I had
brains, and a heart also; so, having tried them both, I should much rather have
a heart."
"And
why is that?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I
will tell you my story, and then you will know."
So,
while they were walking through the forest, the Tin Woodman told the following
story:
"I
was born the son of a woodman who chopped down trees in the forest and sold the
wood for a living. When I grew up, I too became a woodchopper, and after my
father died I took care of my old mother as long as she lived. Then I made up
my mind that instead of living alone I would marry, so that I might not become
lonely.
"There
was one of the Munchkin girls who was so beautiful
that I soon grew to love her with all my heart. She, on her part, promised to
marry me as soon as I could earn enough money to build a better house for her;
so I set to work harder than ever. But the girl lived with an old woman who did
not want her to marry anyone, for she was so lazy she wished the girl to remain
with her and do the cooking and the housework. So the old woman went to the
Wicked Witch of the East, and promised her two sheep and a cow if she would
prevent the marriage. Thereupon the Wicked Witch enchanted my axe, and when I
was chopping away at my best one day, for I was anxious to get the new house
and my wife as soon as possible, the axe slipped all at once and cut off my
left leg.
"This
at first seemed a great misfortune, for I knew a one-legged man could not do
very well as a wood-chopper. So I went to a tinsmith and had him make me a new
leg out of tin. The leg worked very well, once I was used to it. But my action
angered the Wicked Witch of the East, for she had promised the old woman I
should not marry the pretty Munchkin girl. When I began chopping again, my axe
slipped and cut off my right leg. Again I went to the tinsmith, and again he
made me a leg out of tin. After this the enchanted axe cut off my arms, one
after the other; but, nothing daunted, I had them replaced with tin ones. The
Wicked Witch then made the axe slip and cut off my head, and at first I thought
that was the end of me. But the tinsmith happened to come along, and he made me
a new head out of tin.
"I
thought I had beaten the Wicked Witch then, and I worked harder than ever; but
I little knew how cruel my enemy could be. She thought of a new way to kill my
love for the beautiful Munchkin maiden, and made my axe slip again, so that it
cut right through my body, splitting me into two halves. Once more the tinsmith
came to my help and made me a body of tin, fastening my tin arms and legs and
head to it, by means of joints, so that I could move around as well as ever.
But, alas! I had now no heart, so that I lost all my love for the Munchkin
girl, and did not care whether I married her or not. I suppose she is still
living with the old woman, waiting for me to come after her.
"My
body shone so brightly in the sun that I felt very proud of it and it did not
matter now if my axe slipped, for it could not cut me. There was only one
danger--that my joints would rust; but I kept an oil-can in my cottage and took
care to oil myself whenever I needed it. However, there came a day when I
forgot to do this, and, being caught in a rainstorm, before I thought of the
danger my joints had rusted, and I was left to stand in the woods until you
came to help me. It was a terrible thing to undergo, but during the year I
stood there I had time to think that the greatest loss I had known was the loss
of my heart. While I was in love I was the happiest man on earth; but no one can
love who has not a heart, and so I am resolved to ask Oz to give me one. If he
does, I will go back to the Munchkin maiden and marry her."
Both
Dorothy and the Scarecrow had been greatly interested in the story of the Tin
Woodman, and now they knew why he was so anxious to get a new heart.
"All
the same," said the Scarecrow, "I shall ask for brains instead of a
heart; for a fool would not know what to do with a heart if he had one."
"I
shall take the heart," returned the Tin Woodman; "for brains do not
make one happy, and happiness is the best thing in the world."
Dorothy
did not say anything, for she was puzzled to know which of her two friends was
right, and she decided if she could only get back to Kansas and Aunt Em, it did
not matter so much whether the Woodman had no brains and the Scarecrow no
heart, or each got what he wanted.
What
worried her most was that the bread was nearly gone, and another meal for
herself and Toto would empty the basket. To be sure neither the Woodman nor the
Scarecrow ever ate anything, but she was not made of tin nor
straw, and could not live unless she was fed.
All
this time Dorothy and her companions had been walking through the thick woods.
The road was still paved with yellow brick, but these were much covered by
dried branches and dead leaves from the trees, and the walking was not at all
good.
There
were few birds in this part of the forest, for birds love the open country
where there is plenty of sunshine. But now and then there came a deep growl
from some wild animal hidden among the trees. These sounds made the little
girl's heart beat fast, for she did not know what made them; but Toto knew, and
he walked close to Dorothy's side, and did not even bark in return.
"How
long will it be," the child asked of the Tin Woodman, "before we are
out of the forest?"
"I
cannot tell," was the answer, "for I have
never been to the Emerald City. But my father went there once, when I was a
boy, and he said it was a long journey through a dangerous country, although
nearer to the city where Oz dwells the country is beautiful. But I am not
afraid so long as I have my oil-can, and nothing can hurt the Scarecrow, while
you bear upon your forehead the mark of the Good Witch's kiss, and that will
protect you from harm."
"But
Toto!" said the girl anxiously. "What will protect him?"
"We
must protect him ourselves if he is in danger," replied the Tin Woodman.
Just
as he spoke there came from the forest a terrible roar, and the next moment a
great Lion bounded into the road. With one blow of his paw he sent the
Scarecrow spinning over and over to the edge of the road, and then he struck at
the Tin Woodman with his sharp claws. But, to the Lion's surprise, he could
make no impression on the tin, although the Woodman fell over in the road and
lay still.
Little
Toto, now that he had an enemy to face, ran barking toward the Lion, and the
great beast had opened his mouth to bite the dog, when Dorothy, fearing Toto
would be killed, and heedless of danger, rushed forward and slapped the Lion
upon his nose as hard as she could, while she cried out:
"Don't
you dare to bite Toto! You ought to be ashamed of
yourself, a big beast like you, to bite a poor little dog!"
"I
didn't bite him," said the Lion, as he rubbed his nose with his paw where
Dorothy had hit it.
"No,
but you tried to," she retorted. "You are nothing but a big
coward."
"I
know it," said the Lion, hanging his head in shame. "I've always
known it. But how can I help it?"
"I don't know, I'm sure. To think of your striking a
stuffed man, like the poor Scarecrow!"
"Is
he stuffed?" asked the Lion in surprise, as he watched her pick up the
Scarecrow and set him upon his feet, while she patted him into shape again.
"Of
course he's stuffed," replied Dorothy, who was still angry.
"That's
why he went over so easily," remarked the Lion. "It astonished me to
see him whirl around so. Is the other one stuffed also?"
"No,"
said Dorothy, "he's made of tin." And she helped the Woodman up
again.
"That's
why he nearly blunted my claws," said the Lion. "When
they scratched against the tin it made a cold shiver run down my back.
What is that little animal you are so tender of?"
"He
is my dog, Toto," answered Dorothy.
"Is
he made of tin, or stuffed?" asked the Lion.
"Neither.
He's a--a--a meat dog," said the girl.
"Oh!
He's a curious animal and seems remarkably small, now that I look at him. No
one would think of biting such a little thing, except a coward like me,"
continued the Lion sadly.
"What
makes you a coward?" asked Dorothy, looking at the great beast in wonder,
for he was as big as a small horse.
"It's
a mystery," replied the Lion. "I suppose I was born that way. All the
other animals in the forest naturally expect me to be brave, for the Lion is
everywhere thought to be the King of Beasts. I learned that if I roared very
loudly every living thing was frightened and got out of my way. Whenever I've
met a man I've been awfully scared; but I just roared at him, and he has always
run away as fast as he could go. If the elephants and the tigers and the bears
had ever tried to fight me, I should have run myself--I'm such a coward; but
just as soon as they hear me roar they all try to get away from me, and of
course I let them go."
"But
that isn't right. The King of Beasts shouldn't be a coward," said the
Scarecrow.
"I
know it," returned the Lion, wiping a tear from his eye with the tip of
his tail. "It is my great sorrow, and makes my life very unhappy. But
whenever there is danger, my heart begins to beat fast."
"Perhaps
you have heart disease," said the Tin Woodman.
"It
may be," said the Lion.
"If
you have," continued the Tin Woodman, "you ought to be glad, for it
proves you have a heart. For my part, I have no heart; so I cannot have heart
disease."
"Perhaps,"
said the Lion thoughtfully, "if I had no heart I should not be a
coward."
"Have
you brains?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I
suppose so. I've never looked to see," replied the Lion.
"I
am going to the Great Oz to ask him to give me some," remarked the
Scarecrow, "for my head is stuffed with straw."
"And
I am going to ask him to give me a heart," said the Woodman.
"And
I am going to ask him to send Toto and me back to Kansas," added Dorothy.
"Do
you think Oz could give me courage?" asked the Cowardly Lion.
"Just
as easily as he could give me brains," said the Scarecrow.
"Or
give me a heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"Or
send me back to Kansas," said Dorothy.
"Then,
if you don't mind, I'll go with you," said the Lion, "for my life is
simply unbearable without a bit of courage."
"You
will be very welcome," answered Dorothy, "for you will help to keep
away the other wild beasts. It seems to me they must be more cowardly than you
are if they allow you to scare them so easily."
"They
really are," said the Lion, "but that doesn't make me any braver, and
as long as I know myself to be a coward I shall be unhappy."
So
once more the little company set off upon the journey, the Lion walking with
stately strides at Dorothy's side. Toto did not approve this new comrade at first,
for he could not forget how nearly he had been crushed between the Lion's great
jaws. But after a time he became more at ease, and presently Toto and the
Cowardly Lion had grown to be good friends.
During
the rest of that day there was no other adventure to mar the peace of their
journey. Once, indeed, the Tin Woodman stepped upon a beetle that was crawling
along the road, and killed the poor little thing. This made the Tin Woodman
very unhappy, for he was always careful not to hurt any living creature; and as
he walked along he wept several tears of sorrow and regret. These tears ran
slowly down his face and over the hinges of his jaw, and there they rusted.
When Dorothy presently asked him a question the Tin Woodman could not open his
mouth, for his jaws were tightly rusted together. He became greatly frightened
at this and made many motions to Dorothy to relieve him, but she could not
understand. The Lion was also puzzled to know what was wrong. But the Scarecrow
seized the oil-can from Dorothy's basket and oiled the Woodman's jaws, so that
after a few moments he could talk as well as before.
"This
will serve me a lesson," said he, "to look where I step. For if I
should kill another bug or beetle I should surely cry again, and crying rusts
my jaws so that I cannot speak."
Thereafter
he walked very carefully, with his eyes on the road, and when he saw a tiny ant
toiling by he would step over it, so as not to harm it. The Tin Woodman knew
very well he had no heart, and therefore he took great care never to be cruel
or unkind to anything.
"You
people with hearts," he said, "have something to guide you, and need
never do wrong; but I have no heart, and so I must be very careful. When Oz
gives me a heart of course I needn't mind so much."
They
were obliged to camp out that night under a large tree in the forest, for there
were no houses near. The tree made a good, thick covering to protect them from
the dew, and the Tin Woodman chopped a great pile of wood with his axe and
Dorothy built a splendid fire that warmed her and made her feel less lonely.
She and Toto ate the last of their bread, and now she did not know what they
would do for breakfast.
"If
you wish," said the Lion, "I will go into the forest and kill a deer for
you. You can roast it by the fire, since your tastes are so peculiar that you
prefer cooked food, and then you will have a very good breakfast."
"Don't!
Please don't," begged the Tin Woodman. "I should certainly weep if
you killed a poor deer, and then my jaws would rust again."
But
the Lion went away into the forest and found his own supper, and no one ever
knew what it was, for he didn't mention it. And the Scarecrow found a tree full
of nuts and filled Dorothy's basket with them, so that she would not be hungry
for a long time. She thought this was very kind and thoughtful of the
Scarecrow, but she laughed heartily at the awkward way in which the poor
creature picked up the nuts. His padded hands were so clumsy and the nuts were
so small that he dropped almost as many as he put in the basket. But the
Scarecrow did not mind how long it took him to fill the basket, for it enabled
him to keep away from the fire, as he feared a spark might get into his straw
and burn him up. So he kept a good distance away from the flames, and only came
near to cover Dorothy with dry leaves when she lay down to sleep. These kept
her very snug and warm, and she slept soundly until morning.
When
it was daylight, the girl bathed her face in a little rippling brook, and soon
after they all started toward the Emerald City.
This
was to be an eventful day for the travelers. They had hardly been walking an
hour when they saw before them a great ditch that crossed the road and divided
the forest as far as they could see on either side. It was a very wide ditch,
and when they crept up to the edge and looked into it they could see it was
also very deep, and there were many big, jagged rocks at the bottom. The sides
were so steep that none of them could climb down, and for a moment it seemed
that their journey must end.
"What
shall we do?" asked Dorothy despairingly.
"I
haven't the faintest idea," said the Tin Woodman, and the Lion shook his
shaggy mane and looked thoughtful.
But
the Scarecrow said, "We cannot fly, that is certain. Neither can we climb
down into this great ditch. Therefore, if we cannot jump over it, we must stop
where we are."
"I
think I could jump over it," said the Cowardly Lion, after measuring the
distance carefully in his mind.
"Then
we are all right," answered the Scarecrow, "for you can carry us all
over on your back, one at a time."
"Well,
I'll try it," said the Lion. "Who will go first?"
"I
will," declared the Scarecrow, "for, if you
found that you could not jump over the gulf, Dorothy would be killed, or the
Tin Woodman badly dented on the rocks below. But if I am on your back it will
not matter so much, for the fall would not hurt me at all."
"I
am terribly afraid of falling, myself," said the Cowardly Lion, "but
I suppose there is nothing to do but try it. So get on my back and we will make
the attempt."
The
Scarecrow sat upon the Lion's back, and the big beast walked to the edge of the
gulf and crouched down.
"Why
don't you run and jump?" asked the Scarecrow.
"Because
that isn't the way we Lions do these things," he replied. Then giving a
great spring, he shot through the air and landed safely on the other side. They
were all greatly pleased to see how easily he did it, and after the Scarecrow
had got down from his back the Lion sprang across the ditch again.
Dorothy
thought she would go next; so she took Toto in her arms and climbed on the
Lion's back, holding tightly to his mane with one hand. The next moment it
seemed as if she were flying through the air; and then, before she had time to
think about it, she was safe on the other side. The Lion went back a third time
and got the Tin Woodman, and then they all sat down for a few moments to give
the beast a chance to rest, for his great leaps had made his breath short, and
he panted like a big dog that has been running too long.
They
found the forest very thick on this side, and it looked dark and gloomy. After
the Lion had rested they started along the road of yellow brick, silently
wondering, each in his own mind, if ever they would come to the end of the
woods and reach the bright sunshine again. To add to their discomfort, they
soon heard strange noises in the depths of the forest, and the Lion whispered
to them that it was in this part of the country that the Kalidahs lived.
"What
are the Kalidahs?" asked the girl.
"They
are monstrous beasts with bodies like bears and heads like tigers,"
replied the Lion, "and with claws so long and sharp that they could tear
me in two as easily as I could kill Toto. I'm terribly afraid of the
Kalidahs."
"I'm
not surprised that you are," returned Dorothy. "They must be dreadful
beasts."
The
Lion was about to reply when suddenly they came to another gulf across the
road. But this one was so broad and deep that the Lion knew at once he could
not leap across it.
So
they sat down to consider what they should do, and after serious thought the
Scarecrow said:
"Here
is a great tree, standing close to the ditch. If the Tin Woodman can chop it
down, so that it will fall to the other side, we can walk across it easily."
"That
is a first-rate idea," said the Lion. "One would almost suspect you
had brains in your head, instead of straw."
The
Woodman set to work at once, and so sharp was his axe that the tree was soon
chopped nearly through. Then the Lion put his strong front legs against the
tree and pushed with all his might, and slowly the big tree tipped and fell
with a crash across the ditch, with its top branches on the other side.
They
had just started to cross this queer bridge when a sharp growl made them all look
up, and to their horror they saw running toward them two great beasts with
bodies like bears and heads like tigers.
"They
are the Kalidahs!" said the Cowardly Lion, beginning to tremble.
"Quick!"
cried the Scarecrow. "Let us cross over."
So
Dorothy went first, holding Toto in her arms, the Tin Woodman followed, and the
Scarecrow came next. The Lion, although he was certainly afraid, turned to face
the Kalidahs, and then he gave so loud and terrible a roar that Dorothy
screamed and the Scarecrow fell over backward, while even the fierce beasts
stopped short and looked at him in surprise.
But,
seeing they were bigger than the Lion, and remembering that there were two of
them and only one of him, the Kalidahs again rushed forward, and the Lion
crossed over the tree and turned to see what they would do next. Without
stopping an instant the fierce beasts also began to cross the tree. And the
Lion said to Dorothy:
"We
are lost, for they will surely tear us to pieces with their sharp claws. But
stand close behind me, and I will fight them as long as I am alive."
"Wait
a minute!" called the Scarecrow. He had been thinking what was best to be
done, and now he asked the Woodman to chop away the end of the tree that rested
on their side of the ditch. The Tin Woodman began to use his axe at once, and,
just as the two Kalidahs were nearly across, the tree fell with a crash into
the gulf, carrying the ugly, snarling brutes with it, and both were dashed to
pieces on the sharp rocks at the bottom.
"Well,"
said the Cowardly Lion, drawing a long breath of relief, "I see we are
going to live a little while longer, and I am glad of it, for it must be a very
uncomfortable thing not to be alive. Those creatures frightened me so badly
that my heart is beating yet."
"Ah,"
said the Tin Woodman sadly, "I wish I had a heart to beat."
This
adventure made the travelers more anxious than ever to get out of the forest,
and they walked so fast that Dorothy became tired, and had to ride on the
Lion's back. To their great joy the trees became thinner the farther they
advanced, and in the afternoon they suddenly came upon a broad river, flowing
swiftly just before them. On the other side of the water they could see the
road of yellow brick running through a beautiful country, with green meadows
dotted with bright flowers and all the road bordered
with trees hanging full of delicious fruits. They were greatly pleased to see
this delightful country before them.
"How
shall we cross the river?" asked Dorothy.
"That
is easily done," replied the Scarecrow. "The Tin Woodman must build
us a raft, so we can float to the other side."
So the
Woodman took his axe and began to chop down small trees to make a raft, and
while he was busy at this the Scarecrow found on the riverbank a tree full of
fine fruit. This pleased Dorothy, who had eaten nothing but nuts all day, and
she made a hearty meal of the ripe fruit.
But it
takes time to make a raft, even when one is as industrious and untiring as the
Tin Woodman, and when night came the work was not done. So they found a cozy
place under the trees where they slept well until the morning; and Dorothy
dreamed of the Emerald City, and of the good Wizard Oz, who would soon send her
back to her own home again.
Our
little party of travelers awakened the next morning refreshed and full of hope,
and Dorothy breakfasted like a princess off peaches and plums from the trees
beside the river. Behind them was the dark forest they had passed safely
through, although they had suffered many discouragements; but before them was a
lovely, sunny country that seemed to beckon them on to the Emerald City.
To be
sure, the broad river now cut them off from this beautiful land. But the raft
was nearly done, and after the Tin Woodman had cut a few more logs and fastened
them together with wooden pins, they were ready to start. Dorothy sat down in
the middle of the raft and held Toto in her arms. When the Cowardly Lion
stepped upon the raft it tipped badly, for he was big and heavy; but the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman stood upon the other end to steady it, and they
had long poles in their hands to push the raft through the water.
They
got along quite well at first, but when they reached the middle of the river
the swift current swept the raft downstream, farther and farther away from the
road of yellow brick. And the water grew so deep that the long poles would not
touch the bottom.
"This
is bad," said the Tin Woodman, "for if we cannot get to the land we
shall be carried into the country of the Wicked Witch of the West, and she will
enchant us and make us her slaves."
"And
then I should get no brains," said the Scarecrow.
"And
I should get no courage," said the Cowardly Lion.
"And
I should get no heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"And
I should never get back to Kansas," said Dorothy.
"We
must certainly get to the Emerald City if we can," the Scarecrow
continued, and he pushed so hard on his long pole that it stuck fast in the mud
at the bottom of the river. Then, before he could pull it out again--or let
go--the raft was swept away, and the poor Scarecrow left clinging to the pole
in the middle of the river.
"Good-bye!"
he called after them, and they were very sorry to leave him. Indeed, the Tin
Woodman began to cry, but fortunately remembered that he might rust, and so
dried his tears on Dorothy's apron.
Of
course this was a bad thing for the Scarecrow.
"I
am now worse off than when I first met Dorothy," he thought. "Then, I
was stuck on a pole in a cornfield, where I could make-believe scare the crows,
at any rate. But surely there is no use for a Scarecrow stuck on a pole in the
middle of a river. I am afraid I shall never have any brains, after all!"
Down
the stream the raft floated, and the poor Scarecrow was left far behind. Then
the Lion said:
"Something
must be done to save us. I think I can swim to the shore and pull the raft
after me, if you will only hold fast to the tip of my tail."
So he
sprang into the water, and the Tin Woodman caught fast hold of his tail. Then
the Lion began to swim with all his might toward the shore. It was hard work,
although he was so big; but by and by they were drawn out of the current, and
then Dorothy took the Tin Woodman's long pole and
helped push the raft to the land.
They
were all tired out when they reached the shore at last and stepped off upon the
pretty green grass, and they also knew that the stream had carried them a long
way past the road of yellow brick that led to the Emerald City.
"What
shall we do now?" asked the Tin Woodman, as the Lion lay down on the grass
to let the sun dry him.
"We
must get back to the road, in some way," said Dorothy.
"The
best plan will be to walk along the riverbank until we come to the road
again," remarked the Lion.
So,
when they were rested, Dorothy picked up her basket and they started along the
grassy bank, to the road from which the river had carried them. It was a lovely
country, with plenty of flowers and fruit trees and sunshine to cheer them, and
had they not felt so sorry for the poor Scarecrow, they could have been very
happy.
They
walked along as fast as they could, Dorothy only stopping once to pick a
beautiful flower; and after a time the Tin Woodman cried out: "Look!"
Then
they all looked at the river and saw the Scarecrow perched upon his pole in the
middle of the water, looking very lonely and sad.
"What
can we do to save him?" asked Dorothy.
The
Lion and the Woodman both shook their heads, for they did not know. So they sat
down upon the bank and gazed wistfully at the Scarecrow until a Stork flew by,
who, upon seeing them, stopped to rest at the water's edge.
"Who
are you and where are you going?" asked the Stork.
"I
am Dorothy," answered the girl, "and these are my friends, the Tin
Woodman and the Cowardly Lion; and we are going to the Emerald City."
"This
isn't the road," said the Stork, as she twisted her long neck and looked
sharply at the queer party.
"I
know it," returned Dorothy, "but we have lost the Scarecrow, and are
wondering how we shall get him again."
"Where
is he?" asked the Stork.
"Over
there in the river," answered the little girl.
"If
he wasn't so big and heavy I would get him for you," remarked the Stork.
"He
isn't heavy a bit," said Dorothy eagerly, "for he is stuffed with
straw; and if you will bring him back to us, we shall thank you ever and ever
so much."
"Well,
I'll try," said the Stork, "but if I find he is too heavy to carry I
shall have to drop him in the river again."
So the
big bird flew into the air and over the water till she came to where the
Scarecrow was perched upon his pole. Then the Stork with her great claws
grabbed the Scarecrow by the arm and carried him up into the air and back to
the bank, where Dorothy and the Lion and the Tin Woodman and Toto were sitting.
When
the Scarecrow found himself among his friends again, he was so happy that he
hugged them all, even the Lion and Toto; and as they walked along he sang
"Tol-de-ri-de-oh!" at every step, he felt so gay.
"I
was afraid I should have to stay in the river forever," he said, "but
the kind Stork saved me, and if I ever get any brains I shall find the Stork
again and do her some kindness in return."
"That's
all right," said the Stork, who was flying along beside them. "I
always like to help anyone in trouble. But I must go now, for my babies are
waiting in the nest for me. I hope you will find the Emerald City and that Oz
will help you."
"Thank
you," replied Dorothy, and then the kind Stork flew into the air and was
soon out of sight.
They
walked along listening to the singing of the brightly colored birds and looking
at the lovely flowers which now became so thick that the ground was carpeted
with them. There were big yellow and white and blue and purple blossoms,
besides great clusters of scarlet poppies, which were so brilliant in color they
almost dazzled Dorothy's eyes.
"Aren't
they beautiful?" the girl asked, as she breathed in the spicy scent of the
bright flowers.
"I
suppose so," answered the Scarecrow. "When I have brains, I shall
probably like them better."
"If
I only had a heart, I should love them," added the Tin Woodman.
"I
always did like flowers," said the Lion. "They of seem so helpless
and frail. But there are none in the forest so bright
as these."
They
now came upon more and more of the big scarlet poppies, and fewer and fewer of
the other flowers; and soon they found themselves in the midst of a great
meadow of poppies. Now it is well known that when there are many of these
flowers together their odor is so powerful that anyone who breathes it falls
asleep, and if the sleeper is not carried away from the scent of the flowers,
he sleeps on and on forever. But Dorothy did not know this, nor could she get
away from the bright red flowers that were everywhere about; so presently her
eyes grew heavy and she felt she must sit down to rest and to sleep.
But
the Tin Woodman would not let her do this.
"We
must hurry and get back to the road of yellow brick before dark," he said;
and the Scarecrow agreed with him. So they kept walking until Dorothy could
stand no longer. Her eyes closed in spite of herself and she forgot where she
was and fell among the poppies, fast asleep.
"What
shall we do?" asked the Tin Woodman.
"If
we leave her here she will die," said the Lion. "The smell of the
flowers is killing us all. I myself can scarcely keep my eyes open, and the dog
is asleep already."
It was
true; Toto had fallen down beside his little mistress. But the Scarecrow and
the Tin Woodman, not being made of flesh, were not troubled by the scent of the
flowers.
"Run
fast," said the Scarecrow to the Lion, "and get out of this deadly
flower bed as soon as you can. We will bring the little girl with us, but if
you should fall asleep you are too big to be carried."
So the
Lion aroused himself and bounded forward as fast as he could go. In a moment he
was out of sight.
"Let
us make a chair with our hands and carry her," said the Scarecrow. So they
picked up Toto and put the dog in Dorothy's lap, and then they made a chair
with their hands for the seat and their arms for the arms and carried the
sleeping girl between them through the flowers.
On and
on they walked, and it seemed that the great carpet of deadly flowers that
surrounded them would never end. They followed the bend of the river, and at
last came upon their friend the Lion, lying fast asleep among the poppies. The
flowers had been too strong for the huge beast and he had given up at last, and fallen only a short distance from the end of the
poppy bed, where the sweet grass spread in beautiful green fields before them.
"We
can do nothing for him," said the Tin Woodman, sadly; "for he is much
too heavy to lift. We must leave him here to sleep on forever, and perhaps he
will dream that he has found courage at last."
"I'm
sorry," said the Scarecrow. "The Lion was a very good comrade for one
so cowardly. But let us go on."
They
carried the sleeping girl to a pretty spot beside the river, far enough from
the poppy field to prevent her breathing any more of the poison of the flowers,
and here they laid her gently on the soft grass and waited for the fresh breeze
to waken her.
"We
cannot be far from the road of yellow brick, now," remarked the Scarecrow,
as he stood beside the girl, "for we have come nearly as far as the river
carried us away."
The
Tin Woodman was about to reply when he heard a low growl, and turning his head
(which worked beautifully on hinges) he saw a strange beast come bounding over
the grass toward them. It was, indeed, a great yellow Wildcat, and the Woodman
thought it must be chasing something, for its ears were lying close to its head
and its mouth was wide open, showing two rows of ugly teeth, while its red eyes
glowed like balls of fire. As it came nearer the Tin Woodman saw that running
before the beast was a little gray field mouse, and although he had no heart he
knew it was wrong for the Wildcat to try to kill such a pretty, harmless
creature.
So the
Woodman raised his axe, and as the Wildcat ran by he gave it a quick blow that
cut the beast's head clean off from its body, and it rolled over at his feet in
two pieces.
The
field mouse, now that it was freed from its enemy, stopped short; and coming
slowly up to the Woodman it said, in a squeaky little voice:
"Oh,
thank you! Thank you ever so much for saving my life."
"Don't
speak of it, I beg of you," replied the Woodman. "I have no heart,
you know, so I am careful to help all those who may need a friend, even if it
happens to be only a mouse."
"Only
a mouse!" cried the little animal, indignantly. "Why, I am a
Queen--the Queen of all the Field Mice!"
"Oh,
indeed," said the Woodman, making a bow.
"Therefore
you have done a great deed, as well as a brave one, in saving my life,"
added the Queen.
At
that moment several mice were seen running up as fast as their little legs
could carry them, and when they saw their Queen they exclaimed:
"Oh,
your Majesty, we thought you would be killed! How did you manage to escape the
great Wildcat?" They all bowed so low to the little Queen that they almost
stood upon their heads.
"This
funny tin man," she answered, "killed the Wildcat and saved my life.
So hereafter you must all serve him, and obey his slightest wish."
"We
will!" cried all the mice, in a shrill chorus. And then they scampered in
all directions, for Toto had awakened from his sleep, and seeing all these mice
around him he gave one bark of delight and jumped right into the middle of the
group. Toto had always loved to chase mice when he lived in Kansas, and he saw
no harm in it.
But
the Tin Woodman caught the dog in his arms and held him tight, while he called
to the mice, "Come back! Come back! Toto shall not hurt you."
At
this the Queen of the Mice stuck her head out from underneath a clump of grass
and asked, in a timid voice, "Are you sure he will not bite us?"
"I
will not let him," said the Woodman; "so do not be afraid."
One by
one the mice came creeping back, and Toto did not bark again, although he tried
to get out of the Woodman's arms, and would have bitten him had he not known
very well he was made of tin. Finally one of the biggest mice spoke.
"Is
there anything we can do," it asked, "to repay you for saving the
life of our Queen?"
"Nothing
that I know of," answered the Woodman; but the Scarecrow, who had been
trying to think, but could not because his head was stuffed with straw, said,
quickly, "Oh, yes; you can save our friend, the Cowardly Lion, who is
asleep in the poppy bed."
"A
Lion!" cried the little Queen. "Why, he would eat us all up."
"Oh,
no," declared the Scarecrow; "this Lion is a coward."
"Really?"
asked the Mouse.
"He
says so himself," answered the Scarecrow, "and he would never hurt
anyone who is our friend. If you will help us to save him I promise that he
shall treat you all with kindness."
"Very
well," said the Queen, "we trust you. But what shall we do?"
"Are
there many of these mice which call you Queen and are willing to obey
you?"
"Oh,
yes; there are thousands," she replied.
"Then
send for them all to come here as soon as possible, and let each one bring a
long piece of string."
The Queen
turned to the mice that attended her and told them to go at once and get all
her people. As soon as they heard her orders they ran away in every direction
as fast as possible.
"Now,"
said the Scarecrow to the Tin Woodman, "you must go to those trees by the
riverside and make a truck that will carry the Lion."
So the
Woodman went at once to the trees and began to work; and he soon made a truck
out of the limbs of trees, from which he chopped away all the leaves and
branches. He fastened it together with wooden pegs and made the four wheels out
of short pieces of a big tree trunk. So fast and so well did he work that by
the time the mice began to arrive the truck was all ready for them.
They
came from all directions, and there were thousands of them: big mice and little
mice and middle-sized mice; and each one brought a piece of string in his
mouth. It was about this time that Dorothy woke from her long sleep and opened
her eyes. She was greatly astonished to find herself lying upon the grass, with
thousands of mice standing around and looking at her timidly. But the Scarecrow
told her about everything, and turning to the dignified little Mouse, he said:
"Permit
me to introduce to you her Majesty, the Queen."
Dorothy
nodded gravely and the Queen made a curtsy, after which she became quite
friendly with the little girl.
The
Scarecrow and the Woodman now began to fasten the mice to the truck, using the
strings they had brought. One end of a string was tied around the neck of each
mouse and the other end to the truck. Of course the truck was a thousand times
bigger than any of the mice who were to draw it; but when all the mice had been
harnessed, they were able to pull it quite easily. Even the Scarecrow and the
Tin Woodman could sit on it, and were drawn swiftly by their queer little
horses to the place where the Lion lay asleep.
After
a great deal of hard work, for the Lion was heavy, they managed to get him up
on the truck. Then the Queen hurriedly gave her people the order to start, for
she feared if the mice stayed among the poppies too long they also would fall
asleep.
At
first the little creatures, many though they were, could hardly stir the
heavily loaded truck; but the Woodman and the Scarecrow both pushed from
behind, and they got along better. Soon they rolled the Lion out of the poppy
bed to the green fields, where he could breathe the sweet, fresh air again,
instead of the poisonous scent of the flowers.
Dorothy
came to meet them and thanked the little mice warmly for saving her companion
from death. She had grown so fond of the big Lion she was glad he had been
rescued.
Then
the mice were unharnessed from the truck and scampered away through the grass
to their homes. The Queen of the Mice was the last to leave.
"If
ever you need us again," she said, "come out into the field and call,
and we shall hear you and come to your assistance. Good-bye!"
"Good-bye!"
they all answered, and away the Queen ran, while Dorothy held Toto tightly lest
he should run after her and frighten her.
After
this they sat down beside the Lion until he should awaken; and the Scarecrow
brought Dorothy some fruit from a tree near by, which she ate for her dinner.
It was
some time before the Cowardly Lion awakened, for he had lain among the poppies
a long while, breathing in their deadly fragrance; but when he did open his
eyes and roll off the truck he was very glad to find himself still alive.
"I
ran as fast as I could," he said, sitting down and yawning, "but the flowers were too strong for me. How did you get me
out?"
Then
they told him of the field mice, and how they had generously saved him from
death; and the Cowardly Lion laughed, and said:
"I
have always thought myself very big and terrible; yet such little things as
flowers came near to killing me, and such small animals as mice have saved my
life. How strange it all is! But, comrades, what shall we do now?"
"We
must journey on until we find the road of yellow brick again," said
Dorothy, "and then we can keep on to the Emerald City."
So,
the Lion being fully refreshed, and feeling quite himself again, they all
started upon the journey, greatly enjoying the walk through the soft, fresh
grass; and it was not long before they reached the road of yellow brick and
turned again toward the Emerald City where the Great Oz dwelt.
The
road was smooth and well paved, now, and the country about was beautiful, so
that the travelers rejoiced in leaving the forest far behind, and with it the
many dangers they had met in its gloomy shades. Once more they could see fences
built beside the road; but these were painted green, and when they came to a
small house, in which a farmer evidently lived, that also was painted green.
They passed by several of these houses during the afternoon, and sometimes
people came to the doors and looked at them as if they would like to ask
questions; but no one came near them nor spoke to them because of the great
Lion, of which they were very much afraid. The people were all dressed in
clothing of a lovely emerald-green color and wore peaked hats like those of the
Munchkins.
"This
must be the Land of Oz," said Dorothy, "and we are surely getting
near the Emerald City."
"Yes,"
answered the Scarecrow. "Everything is green here, while in the country of
the Munchkins blue was the favorite color. But the people do not seem to be as
friendly as the Munchkins, and I'm afraid we shall be unable to find a place to
pass the night."
"I
should like something to eat besides fruit," said the girl, "and I'm
sure Toto is nearly starved. Let us stop at the next house and talk to the
people."
So,
when they came to a good-sized farmhouse, Dorothy walked boldly up to the door
and knocked.
A
woman opened it just far enough to look out, and said, "What do you want,
child, and why is that great Lion with you?"
"We
wish to pass the night with you, if you will allow us," answered
Dorothy; "and the Lion is my friend and comrade, and would not hurt you
for the world."
"Is
he tame?" asked the woman, opening the door a little wider.
"Oh,
yes," said the girl, "and he is a great coward, too. He will be more
afraid of you than you are of him."
"Well,"
said the woman, after thinking it over and taking another peep at the Lion,
"if that is the case you may come in, and I will give you some supper and
a place to sleep."
So
they all entered the house, where there were, besides the woman, two children
and a man. The man had hurt his leg, and was lying on the couch in a corner.
They seemed greatly surprised to see so strange a company, and while the woman
was busy laying the table the man asked:
"Where
are you all going?"
"To
the Emerald City," said Dorothy, "to see the Great Oz."
"Oh,
indeed!" exclaimed the man. "Are you sure that Oz will see you?"
"Why not?" she replied.
"Why,
it is said that he never lets anyone come into his presence. I have been to the
Emerald City many times, and it is a beautiful and wonderful place; but I have
never been permitted to see the Great Oz, nor do I know of any living person
who has seen him."
"Does
he never go out?" asked the Scarecrow.
"Never. He sits day after day in the great Throne Room of his Palace, and
even those who wait upon him do not see him face to face."
"What
is he like?" asked the girl.
"That
is hard to tell," said the man thoughtfully. "You see, Oz is a Great
Wizard, and can take on any form he wishes. So that some say he looks like a
bird; and some say he looks like an elephant; and some say he looks like a cat.
To others he appears as a beautiful fairy, or a brownie, or in any other form that
pleases him. But who the real Oz is, when he is in his own form, no living
person can tell."
"That
is very strange," said Dorothy, "but we must try, in some way, to see
him, or we shall have made our journey for nothing."
"Why
do you wish to see the terrible Oz?" asked the man.
"I
want him to give me some brains," said the Scarecrow eagerly.
"Oh,
Oz could do that easily enough," declared the man. "He has more
brains than he needs."
"And
I want him to give me a heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"That
will not trouble him," continued the man, "for Oz has a large
collection of hearts, of all sizes and shapes."
"And
I want him to give me courage," said the Cowardly Lion.
"Oz
keeps a great pot of courage in his Throne Room," said the man,
"which he has covered with a golden plate, to keep it from running over.
He will be glad to give you some."
"And
I want him to send me back to Kansas," said Dorothy.
"Where
is Kansas?" asked the man, with surprise.
"I
don't know," replied Dorothy sorrowfully, "but it is my home, and I'm
sure it's somewhere."
"Very likely. Well, Oz can do anything; so I suppose he will find Kansas for
you. But first you must get to see him, and that will be a hard task; for the
Great Wizard does not like to see anyone, and he usually has his own way. But
what do YOU want?" he continued, speaking to Toto. Toto only wagged his
tail; for, strange to say, he could not speak.
The
woman now called to them that supper was ready, so they gathered around the
table and Dorothy ate some delicious porridge and a dish of scrambled eggs and
a plate of nice white bread, and enjoyed her meal. The Lion ate some of the
porridge, but did not care for it, saying it was made from oats and oats were
food for horses, not for lions. The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman ate nothing
at all. Toto ate a little of everything, and was glad to get a good supper
again.
The
woman now gave Dorothy a bed to sleep in, and Toto lay down beside her, while
the Lion guarded the door of her room so she might not be disturbed. The Scarecrow
and the Tin Woodman stood up in a corner and kept quiet all night, although of
course they could not sleep.
The
next morning, as soon as the sun was up, they started on their way, and soon
saw a beautiful green glow in the sky just before them.
"That
must be the Emerald City," said Dorothy.
As
they walked on, the green glow became brighter and brighter, and it seemed that
at last they were nearing the end of their travels. Yet it was afternoon before
they came to the great wall that surrounded the City. It was high and thick and
of a bright green color.
In
front of them, and at the end of the road of yellow brick, was a big gate, all
studded with emeralds that glittered so in the sun that even the painted eyes
of the Scarecrow were dazzled by their brilliancy.
There
was a bell beside the gate, and Dorothy pushed the button and heard a silvery
tinkle sound within. Then the big gate swung slowly open, and they all passed
through and found themselves in a high arched room, the walls of which glistened
with countless emeralds.
Before them stood a little man about the same size as the
Munchkins. He was
clothed all in green, from his head to his feet, and even his skin was of a
greenish tint. At his side was a large green box.
When
he saw Dorothy and her companions the man asked, "What do you wish in the
Emerald City?"
"We
came here to see the Great Oz," said Dorothy.
The
man was so surprised at this answer that he sat down to think it over.
"It
has been many years since anyone asked me to see Oz," he said, shaking his
head in perplexity. "He is powerful and terrible, and if you come on an
idle or foolish errand to bother the wise reflections of the Great Wizard, he
might be angry and destroy you all in an instant."
"But
it is not a foolish errand, nor an idle one," replied the Scarecrow;
"it is important. And we have been told that Oz is a good Wizard."
"So
he is," said the green man, "and he rules the Emerald City wisely and
well. But to those who are not honest, or who approach him from curiosity, he
is most terrible, and few have ever dared ask to see his face. I am the
Guardian of the Gates, and since you demand to see the Great Oz I must take you
to his Palace. But first you must put on the spectacles."
"Why?"
asked Dorothy.
"Because if you did not wear spectacles the brightness and
glory of the Emerald City would blind you. Even those who live in the City must wear spectacles night
and day. They are all locked on, for Oz so ordered it when the City was first
built, and I have the only key that will unlock them."
He
opened the big box, and Dorothy saw that it was filled with spectacles of every
size and shape. All of them had green glasses in them. The Guardian of the
Gates found a pair that would just fit Dorothy and put them over her eyes. There
were two golden bands fastened to them that passed around the back of her head,
where they were locked together by a little key that was at the end of a chain
the Guardian of the Gates wore around his neck. When they were on, Dorothy
could not take them off had she wished, but of course she did not wish to be
blinded by the glare of the Emerald City, so she said nothing.
Then
the green man fitted spectacles for the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the
Lion, and even on little Toto; and all were locked fast with the key.
Then
the Guardian of the Gates put on his own glasses and told them he was ready to
show them to the Palace. Taking a big golden key from a peg on the wall, he
opened another gate, and they all followed him through the portal into the
streets of the Emerald City.
Even
with eyes protected by the green spectacles, Dorothy and her friends were at
first dazzled by the brilliancy of the wonderful City. The streets were lined
with beautiful houses all built of green marble and studded everywhere with
sparkling emeralds. They walked over a pavement of the same green marble, and
where the blocks were joined together were rows of emeralds, set closely, and
glittering in the brightness of the sun. The window panes were of green glass;
even the sky above the City had a green tint, and the rays of the sun were
green.
There
were many people--men, women, and children--walking about, and these were all
dressed in green clothes and had greenish skins. They looked at Dorothy and her
strangely assorted company with wondering eyes, and the children all ran away
and hid behind their mothers when they saw the Lion; but no one spoke to them.
Many shops stood in the street, and Dorothy saw that everything in them was
green. Green candy and green pop corn were offered for sale, as well as green
shoes, green hats, and green clothes of all sorts. At one place a man was
selling green lemonade, and when the children bought it Dorothy could see that
they paid for it with green pennies.
There
seemed to be no horses nor animals of any kind; the
men carried things around in little green carts, which they pushed before them.
Everyone seemed happy and contented and prosperous.
The
Guardian of the Gates led them through the streets until they came to a big
building, exactly in the middle of the City, which was the Palace of Oz, the
Great Wizard. There was a soldier before the door, dressed in a green uniform
and wearing a long green beard.
"Here
are strangers," said the Guardian of the Gates to him, "and they
demand to see the Great Oz."
"Step
inside," answered the soldier, "and I will carry your message to
him."
So
they passed through the Palace Gates and were led into a big room with a green
carpet and lovely green furniture set with emeralds. The soldier made them all
wipe their feet upon a green mat before entering this room, and when they were
seated he said politely:
"Please
make yourselves comfortable while I go to the door of the Throne Room and tell
Oz you are here."
They
had to wait a long time before the soldier returned. When, at last, he came
back, Dorothy asked:
"Have
you seen Oz?"
"Oh,
no," returned the soldier; "I have never seen him. But I spoke to him
as he sat behind his screen and gave him your message. He said he will grant
you an audience, if you so desire; but each one of you must enter his presence
alone, and he will admit but one each day. Therefore, as you must remain in the
Palace for several days, I will have you shown to rooms where you may rest in
comfort after your journey."
"Thank
you," replied the girl; "that is very kind of Oz."
The
soldier now blew upon a green whistle, and at once a young girl, dressed in a
pretty green silk gown, entered the room. She had lovely green hair and green
eyes, and she bowed low before Dorothy as she said, "Follow me and I will
show you your room."
So
Dorothy said good-bye to all her friends except Toto, and taking the dog in her
arms followed the green girl through seven passages and up three flights of
stairs until they came to a room at the front of the Palace. It was the
sweetest little room in the world, with a soft comfortable bed that had sheets
of green silk and a green velvet counterpane. There was a tiny fountain in the
middle of the room, that shot a spray of green perfume
into the air, to fall back into a beautifully carved green marble basin.
Beautiful green flowers stood in the windows, and there was a shelf with a row
of little green books. When Dorothy had time to open these books she found them
full of queer green pictures that made her laugh, they were so funny.
In a
wardrobe were many green dresses, made of silk and satin and velvet; and all of
them fitted Dorothy exactly.
"Make
yourself perfectly at home," said the green girl, "and if you wish
for anything ring the bell. Oz will send for you tomorrow morning."
She
left Dorothy alone and went back to the others. These she also led to rooms,
and each one of them found himself lodged in a very
pleasant part of the Palace. Of course this politeness was wasted on the
Scarecrow; for when he found himself alone in his room he stood stupidly in one
spot, just within the doorway, to wait till morning. It would not rest him to
lie down, and he could not close his eyes; so he remained all night staring at
a little spider which was weaving its web in a corner of the room, just as if
it were not one of the most wonderful rooms in the world. The Tin Woodman lay
down on his bed from force of habit, for he remembered when he was made of
flesh; but not being able to sleep, he passed the night moving his joints up
and down to make sure they kept in good working order. The Lion would have
preferred a bed of dried leaves in the forest, and did not like being shut up
in a room; but he had too much sense to let this worry him, so he sprang upon
the bed and rolled himself up like a cat and purred himself asleep in a minute.
The
next morning, after breakfast, the green maiden came to fetch Dorothy, and she
dressed her in one of the prettiest gowns, made of green brocaded satin. Dorothy
put on a green silk apron and tied a green ribbon around Toto's neck, and they
started for the Throne Room of the Great Oz.
First
they came to a great hall in which were many ladies and gentlemen of the court,
all dressed in rich costumes. These people had nothing to do but talk to each
other, but they always came to wait outside the Throne Room every morning,
although they were never permitted to see Oz. As Dorothy entered they looked at
her curiously, and one of them whispered:
"Are
you really going to look upon the face of Oz the Terrible?"
"Of
course," answered the girl, "if he will see me."
"Oh,
he will see you," said the soldier who had taken her message to the
Wizard, "although he does not like to have people ask to see him. Indeed,
at first he was angry and said I should send you back where you came from. Then
he asked me what you looked like, and when I mentioned your silver shoes he was
very much interested. At last I told him about the mark upon your forehead, and
he decided he would admit you to his presence."
Just
then a bell rang, and the green girl said to Dorothy, "That is the signal.
You must go into the Throne Room alone."
She
opened a little door and Dorothy walked boldly through and found herself in a
wonderful place. It was a big, round room with a high arched roof, and the
walls and ceiling and floor were covered with large emeralds set closely
together. In the center of the roof was a great light, as bright as the sun,
which made the emeralds sparkle in a wonderful manner.
But
what interested Dorothy most was the big throne of green marble that stood in
the middle of the room. It was shaped like a chair and sparkled with gems, as
did everything else. In the center of the chair was an enormous Head, without a
body to support it or any arms or legs whatever. There was no hair upon this
head, but it had eyes and a nose and mouth, and was much bigger than the head
of the biggest giant.
As
Dorothy gazed upon this in wonder and fear, the eyes turned slowly and looked
at her sharply and steadily. Then the mouth moved, and Dorothy heard a voice
say:
"I
am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
It was
not such an awful voice as she had expected to come from the big Head; so she
took courage and answered:
"I
am Dorothy, the Small and Meek. I have come to you for help."
The
eyes looked at her thoughtfully for a full minute. Then said
the voice:
"Where
did you get the silver shoes?"
"I
got them from the Wicked Witch of the East, when my house fell on her and
killed her," she replied.
"Where
did you get the mark upon your forehead?" continued the voice.
"That
is where the Good Witch of the North kissed me when she bade me good-bye and
sent me to you," said the girl.
Again
the eyes looked at her sharply, and they saw she was telling the truth. Then Oz
asked, "What do you wish me to do?"
"Send
me back to Kansas, where my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry are," she answered
earnestly. "I don't like your country, although it is so beautiful. And I
am sure Aunt Em will be dreadfully worried over my being away so long."
The
eyes winked three times, and then they turned up to the ceiling and down to the
floor and rolled around so queerly that they seemed to see every part of the
room. And at last they looked at Dorothy again.
"Why
should I do this for you?" asked Oz.
"Because
you are strong and I am weak; because you are a Great Wizard and I am only a little girl."
"But
you were strong enough to kill the Wicked Witch of the East," said Oz.
"That
just happened," returned Dorothy simply; "I could not help it."
"Well,"
said the Head, "I will give you my answer. You have no right to expect me
to send you back to Kansas unless you do something for me in return. In this
country everyone must pay for everything he gets. If you wish me to use my
magic power to send you home again you must do something for me first. Help me
and I will help you."
"What
must I do?" asked the girl.
"Kill
the Wicked Witch of the West," answered Oz.
"But
I cannot!" exclaimed Dorothy, greatly surprised.
"You
killed the Witch of the East and you wear the silver shoes, which bear a
powerful charm. There is now but one Wicked Witch left in all this land, and
when you can tell me she is dead I will send you back to Kansas--but not
before."
The
little girl began to weep, she was so much disappointed; and the eyes winked
again and looked upon her anxiously, as if the Great Oz felt that she could
help him if she would.
"I
never killed anything, willingly," she sobbed. "Even if I wanted to,
how could I kill the Wicked Witch? If you, who are Great
and Terrible, cannot kill her yourself, how do you expect me to do it?"
"I
do not know," said the Head; "but that is my answer, and until the
Wicked Witch dies you will not see your uncle and aunt again. Remember that the
Witch is Wicked--tremendously Wicked--and ought to be killed. Now go, and do
not ask to see me again until you have done your task."
Sorrowfully
Dorothy left the Throne Room and went back where the Lion and the Scarecrow and
the Tin Woodman were waiting to hear what Oz had said to her. "There is no
hope for me," she said sadly, "for Oz will not send me home until I
have killed the Wicked Witch of the West; and that I can never do."
Her
friends were sorry, but could do nothing to help her; so Dorothy went to her
own room and lay down on the bed and cried herself to sleep.
The
next morning the soldier with the green whiskers came to the Scarecrow and
said:
"Come
with me, for Oz has sent for you."
So the
Scarecrow followed him and was admitted into the great Throne Room, where he
saw, sitting in the emerald throne, a most lovely Lady. She was dressed in
green silk gauze and wore upon her flowing green locks a crown of jewels.
Growing from her shoulders were wings, gorgeous in color and so light that they
fluttered if the slightest breath of air reached them.
When
the Scarecrow had bowed, as prettily as his straw stuffing would let him,
before this beautiful creature, she looked upon him sweetly, and said:
"I
am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
Now
the Scarecrow, who had expected to see the great Head Dorothy had told him of,
was much astonished; but he answered her bravely.
"I
am only a Scarecrow, stuffed with straw. Therefore I have no brains, and I come
to you praying that you will put brains in my head instead of straw, so that I
may become as much a man as any other in your dominions."
"Why
should I do this for you?" asked the Lady.
"Because
you are wise and powerful, and no one else can help me," answered the
Scarecrow.
"I
never grant favors without some return," said Oz; "but this much I
will promise. If you will kill for me the Wicked Witch of the West, I will
bestow upon you a great many brains, and such good brains
that you will be the wisest man in all the Land of Oz."
"I
thought you asked Dorothy to kill the Witch," said the Scarecrow, in
surprise.
"So
I did. I don't care who kills her. But until she is dead I will not grant your
wish. Now go, and do not seek me again until you have earned the brains you so
greatly desire."
The
Scarecrow went sorrowfully back to his friends and told them what Oz had said;
and Dorothy was surprised to find that the Great Wizard was not a Head, as she
had seen him, but a lovely Lady.
"All
the same," said the Scarecrow, "she needs a heart as much as the Tin
Woodman."
On the
next morning the soldier with the green whiskers came to the Tin Woodman and
said:
"Oz
has sent for you. Follow me."
So the
Tin Woodman followed him and came to the great Throne Room. He did not know
whether he would find Oz a lovely Lady or a Head, but he hoped it would be the
lovely Lady. "For," he said to himself,
"if it is the head, I am sure I shall not be given a heart, since a head
has no heart of its own and therefore cannot feel for me. But if it is the
lovely Lady I shall beg hard for a heart, for all ladies are themselves said to
be kindly hearted."
But
when the Woodman entered the great Throne Room he saw neither the Head nor the
Lady, for Oz had taken the shape of a most terrible Beast. It was nearly as big
as an elephant, and the green throne seemed hardly strong enough to hold its
weight. The Beast had a head like that of a rhinoceros, only there were five
eyes in its face. There were five long arms growing out of its body, and it also
had five long, slim legs. Thick, woolly hair covered every part of it, and a
more dreadful-looking monster could not be imagined. It was fortunate the Tin
Woodman had no heart at that moment, for it would have beat loud and fast from
terror. But being only tin, the Woodman was not at all afraid, although he was
much disappointed.
"I
am Oz, the Great and Terrible," spoke the Beast, in a voice that was one
great roar. "Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
"I
am a Woodman, and made of tin. Therefore I have no heart, and cannot love. I
pray you to give me a heart that I may be as other men are."
"Why
should I do this?" demanded the Beast.
"Because
I ask it, and you alone can grant my request," answered the Woodman.
Oz
gave a low growl at this, but said, gruffly: "If you indeed desire a
heart, you must earn it."
"How?"
asked the Woodman.
"Help
Dorothy to kill the Wicked Witch of the West," replied the Beast.
"When the Witch is dead, come to me, and I will then give you the biggest
and kindest and most loving heart in all the Land of Oz."
So the
Tin Woodman was forced to return sorrowfully to his friends and tell them of
the terrible Beast he had seen. They all wondered greatly at the many forms the
Great Wizard could take upon himself, and the Lion said:
"If
he is a Beast when I go to see him, I shall roar my loudest, and so frighten
him that he will grant all I ask. And if he is the lovely Lady, I shall pretend
to spring upon her, and so compel her to do my bidding. And if he is the great
Head, he will be at my mercy; for I will roll this head all about the room
until he promises to give us what we desire. So be of good cheer, my friends,
for all will yet be well."
The
next morning the soldier with the green whiskers led the Lion to the great
Throne Room and bade him enter the presence of Oz.
The
Lion at once passed through the door, and glancing around saw, to his surprise,
that before the throne was a Ball of Fire, so fierce and glowing he could
scarcely bear to gaze upon it. His first thought was that Oz had by accident
caught on fire and was burning up; but when he tried to go nearer,
the heat was so intense that it singed his whiskers, and he crept back
tremblingly to a spot nearer the door.
Then a
low, quiet voice came from the Ball of Fire, and these were the words it spoke:
"I
am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
And
the Lion answered, "I am a Cowardly Lion, afraid of everything. I came to
you to beg that you give me courage, so that in reality I may become the King
of Beasts, as men call me."
"Why
should I give you courage?" demanded Oz.
"Because
of all Wizards you are the greatest, and alone have power to grant my
request," answered the Lion.
The
Ball of Fire burned fiercely for a time, and the voice said, "Bring me
proof that the Wicked Witch is dead, and that moment I will give you courage.
But as long as the Witch lives, you must remain a coward."
The
Lion was angry at this speech, but could say nothing in reply, and while he
stood silently gazing at the Ball of Fire it became so furiously hot that he
turned tail and rushed from the room. He was glad to find his friends waiting
for him, and told them of his terrible interview with the Wizard.
"What
shall we do now?" asked Dorothy sadly.
"There
is only one thing we can do," returned the Lion, "and that is to go
to the land of the Winkies, seek out the Wicked Witch, and destroy her."
"But
suppose we cannot?" said the girl.
"Then
I shall never have courage," declared the Lion.
"And
I shall never have brains," added the Scarecrow.
"And
I shall never have a heart," spoke the Tin Woodman.
"And
I shall never see Aunt Em and Uncle Henry," said Dorothy, beginning to
cry.
"Be
careful!" cried the green girl. "The tears will fall on your green
silk gown and spot it."
So
Dorothy dried her eyes and said, "I suppose we must try it; but I am sure
I do not want to kill anybody, even to see Aunt Em again."
"I
will go with you; but I'm too much of a coward to kill the Witch," said
the Lion.
"I
will go too," declared the Scarecrow; "but I shall not be of much
help to you, I am such a fool."
"I
haven't the heart to harm even a Witch," remarked the Tin Woodman;
"but if you go I certainly shall go with you."
Therefore
it was decided to start upon their journey the next morning, and the Woodman
sharpened his axe on a green grindstone and had all his joints properly oiled.
The Scarecrow stuffed himself with fresh straw and Dorothy put new paint on his
eyes that he might see better. The green girl, who was
very kind to them, filled Dorothy's basket with good things to eat, and
fastened a little bell around Toto's neck with a green ribbon.
They
went to bed quite early and slept soundly until daylight, when they were
awakened by the crowing of a green cock that lived in the back yard of the
Palace, and the cackling of a hen that had laid a green egg.
The
soldier with the green whiskers led them through the streets of the Emerald
City until they reached the room where the Guardian of the Gates lived. This
officer unlocked their spectacles to put them back in his great box, and then
he politely opened the gate for our friends.
"Which
road leads to the Wicked Witch of the West?" asked Dorothy.
"There
is no road," answered the Guardian of the Gates. "No one ever wishes
to go that way."
"How,
then, are we to find her?" inquired the girl.
"That
will be easy," replied the man, "for when she knows you are in the
country of the Winkies she will find you, and make you all her slaves."
"Perhaps
not," said the Scarecrow, "for we mean to destroy her."
"Oh,
that is different," said the Guardian of the Gates. "No one has ever
destroyed her before, so I naturally thought she would make slaves of you, as
she has of the rest. But take care; for she is wicked and fierce, and may not
allow you to destroy her. Keep to the West, where the sun sets,
and you cannot fail to find her."
They
thanked him and bade him good-bye, and turned toward the West, walking over
fields of soft grass dotted here and there with daisies and buttercups. Dorothy
still wore the pretty silk dress she had put on in the palace, but now, to her
surprise, she found it was no longer green, but pure white. The ribbon around
Toto's neck had also lost its green color and was as white as Dorothy's dress.
The
Emerald City was soon left far behind. As they advanced the ground became
rougher and hillier, for there were no farms nor
houses in this country of the West, and the ground was untilled.
In the
afternoon the sun shone hot in their faces, for there were no trees to offer
them shade; so that before night Dorothy and Toto and the Lion were tired, and
lay down upon the grass and fell asleep, with the Woodman and the Scarecrow
keeping watch.
Now
the Wicked Witch of the West had but one eye, yet that was as powerful as a
telescope, and could see everywhere. So, as she sat in the door of her castle,
she happened to look around and saw Dorothy lying asleep, with her friends all
about her. They were a long distance off, but the Wicked Witch was angry to
find them in her country; so she blew upon a silver whistle that hung around
her neck.
At
once there came running to her from all directions a pack of great wolves. They
had long legs and fierce eyes and sharp teeth.
"Go
to those people," said the Witch, "and tear them to pieces."
"Are
you not going to make them your slaves?" asked the leader of the wolves.
"No,"
she answered, "one is of tin, and one of straw; one is a girl and another a Lion. None of them is fit to work, so you may tear
them into small pieces."
"Very
well," said the wolf, and he dashed away at full speed, followed by the
others.
It was
lucky the Scarecrow and the Woodman were wide awake and heard the wolves
coming.
"This
is my fight," said the Woodman, "so get behind me and I will meet
them as they come."
He
seized his axe, which he had made very sharp, and as the leader of the wolves
came on the Tin Woodman swung his arm and chopped the wolf's head from its
body, so that it immediately died. As soon as he could raise his axe another
wolf came up, and he also fell under the sharp edge of the Tin Woodman's
weapon. There were forty wolves, and forty times a wolf was killed, so that at
last they all lay dead in a heap before the Woodman.
Then
he put down his axe and sat beside the Scarecrow, who said, "It was a good
fight, friend."
They
waited until Dorothy awoke the next morning. The little girl was quite
frightened when she saw the great pile of shaggy wolves, but the Tin Woodman
told her all. She thanked him for saving them and sat down to breakfast, after
which they started again upon their journey.
Now
this same morning the Wicked Witch came to the door of her castle and looked
out with her one eye that could see far off. She saw all her wolves lying dead,
and the strangers still traveling through her country. This made her angrier
than before, and she blew her silver whistle twice.
Straightway
a great flock of wild crows came flying toward her,
enough to darken the sky.
And
the Wicked Witch said to the King Crow, "Fly at once to the strangers;
peck out their eyes and tear them to pieces."
The
wild crows flew in one great flock toward Dorothy and her companions. When the
little girl saw them coming she was afraid.
But
the Scarecrow said, "This is my battle, so lie down beside me and you will
not be harmed."
So
they all lay upon the ground except the Scarecrow, and
he stood up and stretched out his arms. And when the crows saw him they were
frightened, as these birds always are by scarecrows, and did not dare to come
any nearer. But the King Crow said:
"It
is only a stuffed man. I will peck his eyes out."
The
King Crow flew at the Scarecrow, who caught it by the head and twisted its neck
until it died. And then another crow flew at him, and the Scarecrow twisted its
neck also. There were forty crows, and forty times the Scarecrow twisted a
neck, until at last all were lying dead beside him. Then he called to his
companions to rise, and again they went upon their journey.
When
the Wicked Witch looked out again and saw all her crows lying in a heap, she
got into a terrible rage, and blew three times upon her silver whistle.
Forthwith
there was heard a great buzzing in the air, and a swarm of black bees came
flying toward her.
"Go
to the strangers and sting them to death!" commanded the Witch, and the
bees turned and flew rapidly until they came to where Dorothy and her friends
were walking. But the Woodman had seen them coming, and the Scarecrow had
decided what to do.
"Take
out my straw and scatter it over the little girl and the dog and the
Lion," he said to the Woodman, "and the bees cannot sting them."
This the Woodman did, and as Dorothy lay close beside
the Lion and held Toto in her arms, the straw covered them entirely.
The
bees came and found no one but the Woodman to sting, so they flew at him and
broke off all their stings against the tin, without hurting the Woodman at all.
And as bees cannot live when their stings are broken that was the end of the
black bees, and they lay scattered thick about the Woodman, like little heaps
of fine coal.
Then
Dorothy and the Lion got up, and the girl helped the Tin Woodman put the straw
back into the Scarecrow again, until he was as good as ever. So they started
upon their journey once more.
The
Wicked Witch was so angry when she saw her black bees in little heaps like fine
coal that she stamped her foot and tore her hair and gnashed her teeth. And
then she called a dozen of her slaves, who were the Winkies, and gave them
sharp spears, telling them to go to the strangers and destroy them.
The
Winkies were not a brave people, but they had to do as they were told. So they
marched away until they came near to Dorothy. Then the Lion gave a great roar
and sprang towards them, and the poor Winkies were so frightened that they ran
back as fast as they could.
When
they returned to the castle the Wicked Witch beat them well with a strap, and
sent them back to their work, after which she sat down to think what she should
do next. She could not understand how all her plans to destroy these strangers
had failed; but she was a powerful Witch, as well as a wicked one, and she soon
made up her mind how to act.
There
was, in her cupboard, a Golden Cap, with a circle of diamonds and rubies
running round it. This Golden Cap had a charm. Whoever owned it could call
three times upon the Winged Monkeys, who would obey any order they were given.
But no person could command these strange creatures more than three times.
Twice already the Wicked Witch had used the charm of the Cap. Once was when she
had made the Winkies her slaves, and set herself to
rule over their country. The Winged Monkeys had helped her do this. The second
time was when she had fought against the Great Oz himself, and driven him out
of the land of the West. The Winged Monkeys had also helped her in doing this.
Only once more could she use this Golden Cap, for which reason she did not like
to do so until all her other powers were exhausted. But now that her fierce
wolves and her wild crows and her stinging bees were gone, and her slaves had
been scared away by the Cowardly Lion, she saw there was only one way left to
destroy Dorothy and her friends.
So the
Wicked Witch took the Golden Cap from her cupboard and placed it upon her head.
Then she stood upon her left foot and said slowly:
"Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!"
Next
she stood upon her right foot and said:
"Hil-lo,
hol-lo, hel-lo!"
After
this she stood upon both feet and cried in a loud voice:
"Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!"
Now
the charm began to work. The sky was darkened, and a low rumbling sound was
heard in the air. There was a rushing of many wings, a great chattering and
laughing, and the sun came out of the dark sky to show the Wicked Witch
surrounded by a crowd of monkeys, each with a pair of immense and powerful
wings on his shoulders.
One,
much bigger than the others, seemed to be their leader. He flew close to the
Witch and said, "You have called us for the third and last time. What do
you command?"
"Go
to the strangers who are within my land and destroy them all except the Lion,"
said the Wicked Witch. "Bring that beast to me, for I have a mind to
harness him like a horse, and make him work."
"Your
commands shall be obeyed," said the leader. Then, with a great deal of
chattering and noise, the Winged Monkeys flew away to the place where Dorothy
and her friends were walking.
Some
of the Monkeys seized the Tin Woodman and carried him through the air until
they were over a country thickly covered with sharp rocks. Here they dropped
the poor Woodman, who fell a great distance to the rocks, where he lay so
battered and dented that he could neither move nor groan.
Others
of the Monkeys caught the Scarecrow, and with their long fingers pulled all of
the straw out of his clothes and head. They made his hat and boots and clothes
into a small bundle and threw it into the top branches of a tall tree.
The
remaining Monkeys threw pieces of stout rope around the Lion and wound many
coils about his body and head and legs, until he was unable to bite or scratch
or struggle in any way. Then they lifted him up and flew away with him to the
Witch's castle, where he was placed in a small yard with a high iron fence
around it, so that he could not escape.
But
Dorothy they did not harm at all. She stood, with Toto in her arms, watching
the sad fate of her comrades and thinking it would soon be her turn. The leader
of the Winged Monkeys flew up to her, his long, hairy arms stretched out and
his ugly face grinning terribly; but he saw the mark of the Good Witch's kiss
upon her forehead and stopped short, motioning the others not to touch her.
"We
dare not harm this little girl," he said to them, "for she is
protected by the Power of Good, and that is greater than the Power of Evil. All
we can do is to carry her to the castle of the Wicked Witch and leave her
there."
So,
carefully and gently, they lifted Dorothy in their arms and carried her swiftly
through the air until they came to the castle, where they set her down upon the
front doorstep. Then the leader said to the Witch:
"We
have obeyed you as far as we were able. The Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow are
destroyed, and the Lion is tied up in your yard. The little girl we dare not
harm, nor the dog she carries in her arms. Your power
over our band is now ended, and you will never see us again."
Then all
the Winged Monkeys, with much laughing and chattering and noise, flew into the
air and were soon out of sight.
The
Wicked Witch was both surprised and worried when she saw the mark on Dorothy's
forehead, for she knew well that neither the Winged Monkeys nor she, herself,
dare hurt the girl in any way. She looked down at Dorothy's feet, and seeing
the Silver Shoes, began to tremble with fear, for she knew what a powerful
charm belonged to them. At first the Witch was tempted to run away from
Dorothy; but she happened to look into the child's eyes and saw how simple the
soul behind them was, and that the little girl did not know of the wonderful
power the Silver Shoes gave her. So the Wicked Witch laughed to herself, and
thought, "I can still make her my slave, for she does not know how to use
her power." Then she said to Dorothy, harshly and severely:
"Come
with me; and see that you mind everything I tell you, for if you do not I will
make an end of you, as I did of the Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow."
Dorothy
followed her through many of the beautiful rooms in her castle until they came
to the kitchen, where the Witch bade her clean the pots and kettles and sweep
the floor and keep the fire fed with wood.
Dorothy
went to work meekly, with her mind made up to work as hard as she could; for
she was glad the Wicked Witch had decided not to kill her.
With
Dorothy hard at work, the Witch thought she would go into the courtyard and
harness the Cowardly Lion like a horse; it would amuse her, she was sure, to make
him draw her chariot whenever she wished to go to drive. But as she opened the
gate the Lion gave a loud roar and bounded at her so fiercely that the Witch
was afraid, and ran out and shut the gate again.
"If
I cannot harness you," said the Witch to the Lion, speaking through the
bars of the gate, "I can starve you. You shall have nothing to eat until
you do as I wish."
So
after that she took no food to the imprisoned Lion; but every day she came to
the gate at noon and asked, "Are you ready to be harnessed like a
horse?"
And
the Lion would answer, "No. If you come in this yard, I will bite
you."
The
reason the Lion did not have to do as the Witch wished was that every night,
while the woman was asleep, Dorothy carried him food from the cupboard. After
he had eaten he would lie down on his bed of straw, and Dorothy would lie
beside him and put her head on his soft, shaggy mane, while they talked of
their troubles and tried to plan some way to escape. But they could find no way
to get out of the castle, for it was constantly guarded by the yellow Winkies,
who were the slaves of the Wicked Witch and too afraid of her not to do as she
told them.
The
girl had to work hard during the day, and often the Witch threatened to beat
her with the same old umbrella she always carried in her hand. But, in truth,
she did not dare to strike Dorothy, because of the mark upon her forehead. The
child did not know this, and was full of fear for herself and Toto. Once the
Witch struck Toto a blow with her umbrella and the brave little dog flew at her
and bit her leg in return. The Witch did not bleed where she was bitten, for
she was so wicked that the blood in her had dried up many years before.
Dorothy's
life became very sad as she grew to understand that it would be harder than
ever to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em again. Sometimes she would cry bitterly
for hours, with Toto sitting at her feet and looking into her face, whining
dismally to show how sorry he was for his little mistress. Toto did not really
care whether he was in Kansas or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with
him; but he knew the little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.
Now the Wicked Witch had a great longing to have for her own the
Silver Shoes which the girl always wore. Her bees and her crows and her wolves were lying in heaps
and drying up, and she had used up all the power of the Golden Cap; but if she
could only get hold of the Silver Shoes, they would give her more power than
all the other things she had lost. She watched Dorothy carefully, to see if she
ever took off her shoes, thinking she might steal them. But the child was so
proud of her pretty shoes that she never took them off except at night and when
she took her bath. The Witch was too much afraid of the dark to dare go in
Dorothy's room at night to take the shoes, and her dread of water was greater
than her fear of the dark, so she never came near when Dorothy was bathing.
Indeed, the old Witch never touched water, nor ever let water touch her in any
way.
But
the wicked creature was very cunning, and she finally thought of a trick that
would give her what she wanted. She placed a bar of iron in the middle of the
kitchen floor, and then by her magic arts made the iron invisible to human
eyes. So that when Dorothy walked across the floor she stumbled over the bar,
not being able to see it, and fell at full length. She was not much hurt, but
in her fall one of the Silver Shoes came off; and before she could reach it,
the Witch had snatched it away and put it on her own skinny foot.
The
wicked woman was greatly pleased with the success of her trick, for as long as
she had one of the shoes she owned half the power of their charm, and Dorothy
could not use it against her, even had she known how to do so.
The
little girl, seeing she had lost one of her pretty shoes, grew angry, and said
to the Witch, "Give me back my shoe!"
"I
will not," retorted the Witch, "for it is now my shoe, and not
yours."
"You
are a wicked creature!" cried Dorothy. "You have no right to take my
shoe from me."
"I
shall keep it, just the same," said the Witch, laughing at her, "and
someday I shall get the other one from you, too."
This
made Dorothy so very angry that she picked up the bucket of water that stood
near and dashed it over the Witch, wetting her from head to foot.
Instantly
the wicked woman gave a loud cry of fear, and then, as Dorothy looked at her in
wonder, the Witch began to shrink and fall away.
"See
what you have done!" she screamed. "In a minute I shall melt
away."
"I'm
very sorry, indeed," said Dorothy, who was truly frightened to see the
Witch actually melting away like brown sugar before her very eyes.
"Didn't
you know water would be the end of me?" asked the Witch, in a wailing,
despairing voice.
"Of
course not," answered Dorothy. "How should I?"
"Well,
in a few minutes I shall be all melted, and you will have the castle to
yourself. I have been wicked in my day, but I never thought a little girl like
you would ever be able to melt me and end my wicked deeds. Look out--here I
go!"
With
these words the Witch fell down in a brown, melted, shapeless mass and began to
spread over the clean boards of the kitchen floor. Seeing that she had really
melted away to nothing, Dorothy drew another bucket of water and threw it over
the mess. She then swept it all out the door. After picking out the silver
shoe, which was all that was left of the old woman, she cleaned and dried it
with a cloth, and put it on her foot again. Then, being at last free to do as
she chose, she ran out to the courtyard to tell the Lion that the Wicked Witch
of the West had come to an end, and that they were no longer prisoners in a
strange land.
The
Cowardly Lion was much pleased to hear that the Wicked Witch had been melted by
a bucket of water, and Dorothy at once unlocked the gate of his prison and set
him free. They went in together to the castle, where Dorothy's first act was to
call all the Winkies together and tell them that they were no longer slaves.
There
was great rejoicing among the yellow Winkies, for they had been made to work
hard during many years for the Wicked Witch, who had always treated them with
great cruelty. They kept this day as a holiday, then and ever after, and spent
the time in feasting and dancing.
"If
our friends, the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, were only with us," said
the Lion, "I should be quite happy."
"Don't
you suppose we could rescue them?" asked the girl anxiously.
"We
can try," answered the Lion.
So
they called the yellow Winkies and asked them if they would help to rescue
their friends, and the Winkies said that they would be delighted to do all in
their power for Dorothy, who had set them free from bondage. So she chose a
number of the Winkies who looked as if they knew the most, and they all started
away. They traveled that day and part of the next until they came to the rocky
plain where the Tin Woodman lay, all battered and bent. His axe was near him,
but the blade was rusted and the handle broken off short.
The
Winkies lifted him tenderly in their arms, and carried him back to the Yellow
Castle again, Dorothy shedding a few tears by the way at the sad plight of her
old friend, and the Lion looking sober and sorry. When they reached the castle
Dorothy said to the Winkies:
"Are
any of your people tinsmiths?"
"Oh,
yes. Some of us are very good tinsmiths," they told her.
"Then
bring them to me," she said. And when the tinsmiths came, bringing with
them all their tools in baskets, she inquired, "Can you straighten out
those dents in the Tin Woodman, and bend him back into shape again, and solder
him together where he is broken?"
The
tinsmiths looked the Woodman over carefully and then answered that they thought
they could mend him so he would be as good as ever. So they set to work in one
of the big yellow rooms of the castle and worked for three days and four
nights, hammering and twisting and bending and soldering and polishing and
pounding at the legs and body and head of the Tin Woodman, until at last he was
straightened out into his old form, and his joints worked as well as ever. To
be sure, there were several patches on him, but the tinsmiths did a good job,
and as the Woodman was not a vain man he did not mind the patches at all.
When,
at last, he walked into Dorothy's room and thanked her for rescuing him, he was
so pleased that he wept tears of joy, and Dorothy had to wipe every tear
carefully from his face with her apron, so his joints would not be rusted. At
the same time her own tears fell thick and fast at the joy of meeting her old
friend again, and these tears did not need to be wiped away. As for the Lion,
he wiped his eyes so often with the tip of his tail that it became quite wet,
and he was obliged to go out into the courtyard and hold it in the sun till it
dried.
"If
we only had the Scarecrow with us again," said the Tin Woodman, when
Dorothy had finished telling him everything that had happened, "I should
be quite happy."
"We
must try to find him," said the girl.
So she
called the Winkies to help her, and they walked all that day and part of the
next until they came to the tall tree in the branches of which the Winged
Monkeys had tossed the Scarecrow's clothes.
It was
a very tall tree, and the trunk was so smooth that no one could climb it; but
the Woodman said at once, "I'll chop it down, and then we can get the
Scarecrow's clothes."
Now
while the tinsmiths had been at work mending the Woodman himself, another of
the Winkies, who was a goldsmith, had made an axe-handle of solid gold and
fitted it to the Woodman's axe, instead of the old broken handle. Others
polished the blade until all the rust was removed and it glistened like
burnished silver.
As
soon as he had spoken, the Tin Woodman began to chop, and in a short time the
tree fell over with a crash, whereupon the Scarecrow's clothes fell out of the
branches and rolled off on the ground.
Dorothy
picked them up and had the Winkies carry them back to the castle, where they
were stuffed with nice, clean straw; and behold! here
was the Scarecrow, as good as ever, thanking them over and over again for
saving him.
Now
that they were reunited, Dorothy and her friends spent a few happy days at the
Yellow Castle, where they found everything they needed to make them
comfortable.
But
one day the girl thought of Aunt Em, and said, "We must go back to Oz, and
claim his promise."
"Yes,"
said the Woodman, "at last I shall get my heart."
"And
I shall get my brains," added the Scarecrow joyfully.
"And
I shall get my courage," said the Lion thoughtfully.
"And
I shall get back to Kansas," cried Dorothy, clapping her hands. "Oh,
let us start for the Emerald City tomorrow!"
This
they decided to do. The next day they called the Winkies together and bade them
good-bye. The Winkies were sorry to have them go, and they had grown so fond of
the Tin Woodman that they begged him to stay and rule over them and the Yellow
Land of the West. Finding they were determined to go, the Winkies gave Toto and
the Lion each a golden collar; and to Dorothy they presented a beautiful
bracelet studded with diamonds; and to the Scarecrow they gave a gold-headed
walking stick, to keep him from stumbling; and to the Tin Woodman they offered
a silver oil-can, inlaid with gold and set with precious jewels.
Every
one of the travelers made the Winkies a pretty speech in return, and all shook
hands with them until their arms ached.
Dorothy
went to the Witch's cupboard to fill her basket with food for the journey, and
there she saw the Golden Cap. She tried it on her own head and found that it
fitted her exactly. She did not know anything about the charm of the Golden
Cap, but she saw that it was pretty, so she made up her mind to wear it and
carry her sunbonnet in the basket.
Then,
being prepared for the journey, they all started for the Emerald City; and the
Winkies gave them three cheers and many good wishes to carry with them.
You
will remember there was no road--not even a pathway--between the castle of the
Wicked Witch and the Emerald City. When the four travelers went in search of
the Witch she had seen them coming, and so sent the Winged Monkeys to bring
them to her. It was much harder to find their way back through the big fields
of buttercups and yellow daisies than it was being carried. They knew, of
course, they must go straight east, toward the rising sun; and they started off
in the right way. But at noon, when the sun was over their heads, they did not
know which was east and which was west, and that was the reason they were lost
in the great fields. They kept on walking, however, and at night the moon came
out and shone brightly. So they lay down among the sweet smelling yellow
flowers and slept soundly until morning--all but the Scarecrow and the Tin
Woodman.
The
next morning the sun was behind a cloud, but they started on, as if they were
quite sure which way they were going.
"If
we walk far enough," said Dorothy, "I am sure we shall sometime come
to some place."
But
day by day passed away, and they still saw nothing before them but the scarlet
fields. The Scarecrow began to grumble a bit.
"We
have surely lost our way," he said, "and unless we find it again in
time to reach the Emerald City, I shall never get my brains."
"Nor
I my heart," declared the Tin Woodman. "It seems to me I can scarcely
wait till I get to Oz, and you must admit this is a very long journey."
"You
see," said the Cowardly Lion, with a whimper, "I haven't the courage
to keep tramping forever, without getting anywhere at all."
Then
Dorothy lost heart. She sat down on the grass and looked at her companions, and
they sat down and looked at her, and Toto found that for the first time in his
life he was too tired to chase a butterfly that flew past his head. So he put
out his tongue and panted and looked at Dorothy as if to ask what they should
do next.
"Suppose
we call the field mice," she suggested. "They could probably tell us
the way to the Emerald City."
"To
be sure they could," cried the Scarecrow. "Why didn't we think of
that before?"
Dorothy
blew the little whistle she had always carried about her neck since the Queen
of the Mice had given it to her. In a few minutes they heard the pattering of
tiny feet, and many of the small gray mice came running up to her. Among them
was the Queen herself, who asked, in her squeaky little voice:
"What
can I do for my friends?"
"We
have lost our way," said Dorothy. "Can you tell us where the Emerald
City is?"
"Certainly,"
answered the Queen; "but it is a great way off, for you have had it at
your backs all this time." Then she noticed Dorothy's Golden Cap, and
said, "Why don't you use the charm of the Cap, and call the Winged Monkeys
to you? They will carry you to the City of Oz in less than an hour."
"I
didn't know there was a charm," answered Dorothy, in surprise. "What
is it?"
"It
is written inside the Golden Cap," replied the Queen of the Mice.
"But if you are going to call the Winged Monkeys we must run away, for
they are full of mischief and think it great fun to plague us."
"Won't
they hurt me?" asked the girl anxiously.
"Oh, no. They must obey the wearer of the Cap. Good-bye!" And she
scampered out of sight, with all the mice hurrying after her.
Dorothy
looked inside the Golden Cap and saw some words written upon the lining. These,
she thought, must be the charm, so she read the directions carefully and put
the Cap upon her head.
"Ep-pe,
pep-pe, kak-ke!" she said, standing on her left
foot.
"What
did you say?" asked the Scarecrow, who did not know what she was doing.
"Hil-lo,
hol-lo, hel-lo!" Dorothy went on, standing this
time on her right foot.
"Hello!"
replied the Tin Woodman calmly.
"Ziz-zy,
zuz-zy, zik!" said Dorothy, who was now standing on both feet. This ended
the saying of the charm, and they heard a great chattering and flapping of
wings, as the band of Winged Monkeys flew up to them.
The
King bowed low before Dorothy, and asked, "What is your command?"
"We
wish to go to the Emerald City," said the child, "and we have lost
our way."
"We
will carry you," replied the King, and no sooner had he spoken than two of
the Monkeys caught Dorothy in their arms and flew away with her. Others took
the Scarecrow and the Woodman and the Lion, and one little Monkey seized Toto
and flew after them, although the dog tried hard to bite him.
The
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were rather frightened at first, for they
remembered how badly the Winged Monkeys had treated them before; but they saw
that no harm was intended, so they rode through the air quite cheerfully, and
had a fine time looking at the pretty gardens and woods far below them.
Dorothy
found herself riding easily between two of the biggest Monkeys, one of them the
King himself. They had made a chair of their hands and were careful not to hurt
her.
"Why
do you have to obey the charm of the Golden Cap?" she asked.
"That
is a long story," answered the King, with a Winged
laugh; "but as we have a long journey before us, I will pass the time by
telling you about it, if you wish."
"I
shall be glad to hear it," she replied.
"Once,"
began the leader, "we were a free people, living happily in the great forest,
flying from tree to tree, eating nuts and fruit, and doing just as we pleased
without calling anybody master. Perhaps some of us were rather too full of
mischief at times, flying down to pull the tails of the animals that had no
wings, chasing birds, and throwing nuts at the people who walked in the forest.
But we were careless and happy and full of fun, and enjoyed every minute of the
day. This was many years ago, long before Oz came out of the clouds to rule
over this land.
"There
lived here then, away at the North, a beautiful princess, who was also a
powerful sorceress. All her magic was used to help the people, and she was
never known to hurt anyone who was good. Her name was Gayelette, and she lived
in a handsome palace built from great blocks of ruby. Everyone loved her, but
her greatest sorrow was that she could find no one to love in return, since all
the men were much too stupid and ugly to mate with one so beautiful and wise.
At last, however, she found a boy who was handsome and manly and wise beyond
his years. Gayelette made up her mind that when he grew to be a man she would
make him her husband, so she took him to her ruby palace and used all her magic
powers to make him as strong and good and lovely as any woman could wish. When
he grew to manhood, Quelala, as he was called, was said to be the best and
wisest man in all the land, while his manly beauty was so great that Gayelette
loved him dearly, and hastened to make everything ready for the wedding.
"My
grandfather was at that time the King of the Winged Monkeys which lived in the
forest near Gayelette's palace, and the old fellow loved a joke better than a
good dinner. One day, just before the wedding, my grandfather was flying out
with his band when he saw Quelala walking beside the river. He was dressed in a
rich costume of pink silk and purple velvet, and my grandfather thought he
would see what he could do. At his word the band flew down and seized Quelala,
carried him in their arms until they were over the middle of the river, and then
dropped him into the water.
"`Swim
out, my fine fellow,' cried my grandfather, `and see if the water has spotted
your clothes.' Quelala was much too wise not to swim, and he was not in the
least spoiled by all his good fortune. He laughed, when he came to the top of
the water, and swam in to shore. But when Gayelette came running out to him she
found his silks and velvet all ruined by the river.
"The
princess was angry, and she knew, of course, who did
it. She had all the Winged Monkeys brought before her, and she said at first
that their wings should be tied and they should be treated as they had treated
Quelala, and dropped in the river. But my grandfather pleaded hard, for he knew
the Monkeys would drown in the river with their wings tied, and Quelala said a
kind word for them also; so that Gayelette finally spared them, on condition
that the Winged Monkeys should ever after do three times the bidding of the
owner of the Golden Cap. This Cap had been made for a wedding present to
Quelala, and it is said to have cost the princess half her kingdom. Of course
my grandfather and all the other Monkeys at once agreed to the condition, and
that is how it happens that we are three times the slaves of the owner of the
Golden Cap, whosoever he may be."
"And
what became of them?" asked Dorothy, who had been greatly interested in
the story.
"Quelala
being the first owner of the Golden Cap," replied the Monkey, "he was
the first to lay his wishes upon us. As his bride could not bear the sight of
us, he called us all to him in the forest after he had married her and ordered
us always to keep where she could never again set eyes on a Winged Monkey,
which we were glad to do, for we were all afraid of her.
"This
was all we ever had to do until the Golden Cap fell into the hands of the
Wicked Witch of the West, who made us enslave the Winkies, and afterward drive
Oz himself out of the Land of the West. Now the Golden Cap is yours, and three
times you have the right to lay your wishes upon us."
As the
Monkey King finished his story Dorothy looked down and saw the green, shining
walls of the Emerald City before them. She wondered at the rapid flight of the
Monkeys, but was glad the journey was over. The strange creatures set the
travelers down carefully before the gate of the City, the King bowed low to
Dorothy, and then flew swiftly away, followed by all his band.
"That
was a good ride," said the little girl.
"Yes,
and a quick way out of our troubles," replied the Lion. "How lucky it
was you brought away that wonderful Cap!"
The
four travelers walked up to the great gate of Emerald City and rang the bell.
After ringing several times, it was opened by the same Guardian of the Gates
they had met before.
"What!
are you back again?" he asked, in surprise.
"Do
you not see us?" answered the Scarecrow.
"But
I thought you had gone to visit the Wicked Witch of the West."
"We
did visit her," said the Scarecrow.
"And
she let you go again?" asked the man, in wonder.
"She
could not help it, for she is melted," explained the Scarecrow.
"Melted! Well, that is good news, indeed," said the man. "Who
melted her?"
"It
was Dorothy," said the Lion gravely.
"Good
gracious!" exclaimed the man, and he bowed very low indeed before her.
Then
he led them into his little room and locked the spectacles from the great box
on all their eyes, just as he had done before. Afterward they passed on through
the gate into the Emerald City. When the people heard from the Guardian of the
Gates that Dorothy had melted the Wicked Witch of the West, they all gathered
around the travelers and followed them in a great crowd to the Palace of Oz.
The
soldier with the green whiskers was still on guard before the door, but he let
them in at once, and they were again met by the beautiful green girl, who
showed each of them to their old rooms at once, so they might rest until the
Great Oz was ready to receive them.
The
soldier had the news carried straight to Oz that Dorothy and the other
travelers had come back again, after destroying the Wicked Witch; but Oz made
no reply. They thought the Great Wizard would send for them at once, but he did
not. They had no word from him the next day, nor the next, nor the next. The
waiting was tiresome and wearing, and at last they grew vexed that Oz should
treat them in so poor a fashion, after sending them to undergo hardships and
slavery. So the Scarecrow at last asked the green girl to take another message
to Oz, saying if he did not let them in to see him at once they would call the
Winged Monkeys to help them, and find out whether he kept his promises or not.
When the Wizard was given this message he was so frightened that he sent word
for them to come to the Throne Room at four minutes after nine o'clock the next
morning. He had once met the Winged Monkeys in the Land of the West, and he did
not wish to meet them again.
The
four travelers passed a sleepless night, each thinking
of the gift Oz had promised to bestow on him. Dorothy fell asleep only once,
and then she dreamed she was in Kansas, where Aunt Em was telling her how glad
she was to have her little girl at home again.
Promptly
at nine o'clock the next morning the green-whiskered soldier came to them, and
four minutes later they all went into the Throne Room of the Great Oz.
Of
course each one of them expected to see the Wizard in the shape he had taken
before, and all were greatly surprised when they looked about and saw no one at
all in the room. They kept close to the door and closer to one another, for the
stillness of the empty room was more dreadful than any of the forms they had
seen Oz take.
Presently
they heard a solemn Voice, that seemed to come from
somewhere near the top of the great dome, and it said:
"I
am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Why do you seek me?"
They
looked again in every part of the room, and then, seeing no one, Dorothy asked,
"Where are you?"
"I
am everywhere," answered the Voice, "but to the eyes of common
mortals I am invisible. I will now seat myself upon my throne,
that you may converse with me." Indeed, the Voice seemed just then
to come straight from the throne itself; so they walked toward it and stood in
a row while Dorothy said:
"We
have come to claim our promise, O Oz."
"What
promise?" asked Oz.
"You
promised to send me back to Kansas when the Wicked Witch was destroyed,"
said the girl.
"And
you promised to give me brains," said the Scarecrow.
"And
you promised to give me a heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"And
you promised to give me courage," said the Cowardly Lion.
"Is
the Wicked Witch really destroyed?" asked the Voice, and Dorothy thought
it trembled a little.
"Yes,"
she answered, "I melted her with a bucket of water."
"Dear
me," said the Voice, "how sudden! Well, come to me tomorrow, for I
must have time to think it over."
"You've
had plenty of time already," said the Tin Woodman angrily.
"We
shan't wait a day longer," said the Scarecrow.
"You
must keep your promises to us!" exclaimed Dorothy.
The
Lion thought it might be as well to frighten the Wizard, so he gave a large, loud
roar, which was so fierce and dreadful that Toto jumped away from him in alarm
and tipped over the screen that stood in a corner. As it fell with a crash they
looked that way, and the next moment all of them were filled with wonder. For
they saw, standing in just the spot the screen had hidden, a little old man,
with a bald head and a wrinkled face, who seemed to be as much surprised as
they were. The Tin Woodman, raising his axe, rushed toward the little man and
cried out, "Who are you?"
"I
am Oz, the Great and Terrible," said the little man, in a trembling voice.
"But don't strike me--please don't--and I'll do anything you want me
to."
Our
friends looked at him in surprise and dismay.
"I
thought Oz was a great Head," said Dorothy.
"And
I thought Oz was a lovely Lady," said the Scarecrow.
"And
I thought Oz was a terrible Beast," said the Tin Woodman.
"And
I thought Oz was a Ball of Fire," exclaimed the Lion.
"No,
you are all wrong," said the little man meekly. "I have been making
believe."
"Making
believe!" cried Dorothy. "Are you not a Great Wizard?"
"Hush,
my dear," he said. "Don't speak so loud, or you will be
overheard--and I should be ruined. I'm supposed to be a Great Wizard."
"And
aren't you?" she asked.
"Not
a bit of it, my dear; I'm just a common man."
"You're
more than that," said the Scarecrow, in a grieved tone; "you're a
humbug."
"Exactly
so!" declared the little man, rubbing his hands together as if it pleased
him. "I am a humbug."
"But
this is terrible," said the Tin Woodman. "How shall I ever get my
heart?"
"Or
I my courage?" asked the Lion.
"Or
I my brains?" wailed the Scarecrow, wiping the tears from his eyes with
his coat sleeve.
"My
dear friends," said Oz, "I pray you not to speak of these little
things. Think of me, and the terrible trouble I'm in at being found out."
"Doesn't
anyone else know you're a humbug?" asked Dorothy.
"No
one knows it but you four--and myself," replied
Oz. "I have fooled everyone so long that I thought I should never be found
out. It was a great mistake my ever letting you into the Throne Room. Usually I
will not see even my subjects, and so they believe I am something
terrible."
"But,
I don't understand," said Dorothy, in bewilderment. "How was it that
you appeared to me as a great Head?"
"That
was one of my tricks," answered Oz. "Step this way, please, and I
will tell you all about it."
He led
the way to a small chamber in the rear of the Throne Room, and they all
followed him. He pointed to one corner, in which lay the great Head, made out
of many thicknesses of paper, and with a carefully painted face.
"This
I hung from the ceiling by a wire," said Oz. "I stood behind the
screen and pulled a thread, to make the eyes move and the mouth open."
"But
how about the voice?" she inquired.
"Oh,
I am a ventriloquist," said the little man. "I can throw the sound of
my voice wherever I wish, so that you thought it was coming out of the Head.
Here are the other things I used to deceive you." He showed the Scarecrow
the dress and the mask he had worn when he seemed to be the lovely Lady. And
the Tin Woodman saw that his terrible Beast was nothing but a lot of skins,
sewn together, with slats to keep their sides out. As for the Ball of Fire, the
false Wizard had hung that also from the ceiling. It was really a ball of
cotton, but when oil was poured upon it the ball burned fiercely.
"Really,"
said the Scarecrow, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself for being such a
humbug."
"I
am--I certainly am," answered the little man sorrowfully; "but it was
the only thing I could do. Sit down, please, there are plenty of chairs; and I
will tell you my story."
So
they sat down and listened while he told the following tale.
"I
was born in Omaha--"
"Why,
that isn't very far from Kansas!" cried Dorothy.
"No,
but it's farther from here," he said, shaking his head at her sadly.
"When I grew up I became a ventriloquist, and at that I was very well
trained by a great master. I can imitate any kind of a bird or beast."
Here he mewed so like a kitten that Toto pricked up his ears and looked
everywhere to see where she was. "After a time," continued Oz,
"I tired of that, and became a balloonist."
"What
is that?" asked Dorothy.
"A
man who goes up in a balloon on circus day, so as to draw a crowd of people
together and get them to pay to see the circus," he explained.
"Oh,"
she said, "I know."
"Well,
one day I went up in a balloon and the ropes got twisted, so that I couldn't
come down again. It went way up above the clouds, so far that a current of air
struck it and carried it many, many miles away. For a day and a night I
traveled through the air, and on the morning of the second day I awoke and
found the balloon floating over a strange and beautiful country.
"It
came down gradually, and I was not hurt a bit. But I found myself in the midst
of a strange people, who, seeing me come from the clouds, thought I was a great
Wizard. Of course I let them think so, because they were afraid of me, and
promised to do anything I wished them to.
"Just
to amuse myself, and keep the good people busy, I ordered them to build this
City, and my Palace; and they did it all willingly and well. Then I thought, as
the country was so green and beautiful, I would call it the Emerald City; and
to make the name fit better I put green spectacles on all the people, so that
everything they saw was green."
"But
isn't everything here green?" asked Dorothy.
"No
more than in any other city," replied Oz; "but when you wear green
spectacles, why of course everything you see looks green to you. The Emerald
City was built a great many years ago, for I was a young man when the balloon
brought me here, and I am a very old man now. But my people have worn green
glasses on their eyes so long that most of them think it really is an Emerald
City, and it certainly is a beautiful place, abounding in jewels and precious
metals, and every good thing that is needed to make one happy. I have been good
to the people, and they like me; but ever since this Palace was built, I have
shut myself up and would not see any of them.
"One
of my greatest fears was the Witches, for while I had no magical powers at all
I soon found out that the Witches were really able to do wonderful things.
There were four of them in this country, and they ruled the people who live in
the North and South and East and West. Fortunately, the Witches of the North
and South were good, and I knew they would do me no harm; but the Witches of
the East and West were terribly wicked, and had they not thought I was more
powerful than they themselves, they would surely have destroyed me. As it was,
I lived in deadly fear of them for many years; so you can imagine how pleased I
was when I heard your house had fallen on the Wicked Witch of the East. When
you came to me, I was willing to promise anything if you would only do away
with the other Witch; but, now that you have melted her, I am ashamed to say
that I cannot keep my promises."
"I
think you are a very bad man," said Dorothy.
"Oh,
no, my dear; I'm really a very good man, but I'm a very bad Wizard, I must
admit."
"Can't
you give me brains?" asked the Scarecrow.
"You
don't need them. You are learning something every day. A baby has brains, but
it doesn't know much. Experience is the only thing that brings knowledge, and
the longer you are on earth the more experience you are sure to get."
"That
may all be true," said the Scarecrow, "but I shall be very unhappy
unless you give me brains."
The
false Wizard looked at him carefully.
"Well,"
he said with a sigh, "I'm not much of a magician, as I said; but if you
will come to me tomorrow morning, I will stuff your head with brains. I cannot
tell you how to use them, however; you must find that out for yourself."
"Oh,
thank you--thank you!" cried the Scarecrow. "I'll find a way to use
them, never fear!"
"But
how about my courage?" asked the Lion anxiously.
"You
have plenty of courage, I am sure," answered Oz. "All you need is
confidence in yourself. There is no living thing that is not afraid when it
faces danger. The True courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and
that kind of courage you have in plenty."
"Perhaps
I have, but I'm scared just the same," said the Lion. "I shall really
be very unhappy unless you give me the sort of courage that makes one forget he
is afraid."
"Very
well, I will give you that sort of courage tomorrow," replied Oz.
"How
about my heart?" asked the Tin Woodman.
"Why,
as for that," answered Oz, "I think you are wrong to want a heart. It
makes most people unhappy. If you only knew it, you are in luck not to have a
heart."
"That
must be a matter of opinion," said the Tin Woodman. "For my part, I
will bear all the unhappiness without a murmur, if you will give me the
heart."
"Very
well," answered Oz meekly. "Come to me tomorrow and you shall have a
heart. I have played Wizard for so many years that I may as well continue the
part a little longer."
"And
now," said Dorothy, "how am I to get back to Kansas?"
"We
shall have to think about that," replied the little man. "Give me two
or three days to consider the matter and I'll try to find a way to carry you
over the desert. In the meantime you shall all be treated as my guests, and
while you live in the Palace my people will wait upon you and obey your
slightest wish. There is only one thing I ask in return for my help--such as it
is. You must keep my secret and tell no one I am a humbug."
They
agreed to say nothing of what they had learned, and went back to their rooms in
high spirits. Even Dorothy had hope that "The Great and Terrible
Humbug," as she called him, would find a way to send her back to Kansas,
and if he did she was willing to forgive him everything.
Next
morning the Scarecrow said to his friends:
"Congratulate
me. I am going to Oz to get my brains at last. When I return I shall be as
other men are."
"I
have always liked you as you were," said Dorothy simply.
"It
is kind of you to like a Scarecrow," he replied. "But surely you will
think more of me when you hear the splendid thoughts my new brain is going to
turn out." Then he said good-bye to them all in a cheerful voice and went
to the Throne Room, where he rapped upon the door.
"Come
in," said Oz.
The
Scarecrow went in and found the little man sitting down by the window, engaged
in deep thought.
"I
have come for my brains," remarked the Scarecrow, a little uneasily.
"Oh,
yes; sit down in that chair, please," replied Oz. "You must excuse me
for taking your head off, but I shall have to do it in order to put your brains
in their proper place."
"That's
all right," said the Scarecrow. "You are quite welcome to take my
head off, as long as it will be a better one when you put it on again."
So the
Wizard unfastened his head and emptied out the straw. Then he entered the back
room and took up a measure of bran, which he mixed with a great many pins and
needles. Having shaken them together thoroughly, he filled the top of the
Scarecrow's head with the mixture and stuffed the rest of the space with straw,
to hold it in place.
When
he had fastened the Scarecrow's head on his body again he said to him,
"Hereafter you will be a great man, for I have given you a lot of bran-new
brains."
The
Scarecrow was both pleased and proud at the fulfillment of his greatest wish,
and having thanked Oz warmly he went back to his friends.
Dorothy
looked at him curiously. His head was quite bulged out at the top with brains.
"How
do you feel?" she asked.
"I
feel wise indeed," he answered earnestly. "When I get used to my
brains I shall know everything."
"Why
are those needles and pins sticking out of your head?" asked the Tin
Woodman.
"That
is proof that he is sharp," remarked the Lion.
"Well,
I must go to Oz and get my heart," said the Woodman. So he walked to the
Throne Room and knocked at the door.
"Come
in," called Oz, and the Woodman entered and said,
"I have come for my heart."
"Very
well," answered the little man. "But I shall have to cut a hole in
your breast, so I can put your heart in the right place. I hope it won't hurt
you."
"Oh,
no," answered the Woodman. "I shall not feel it at all."
So Oz
brought a pair of tinsmith's shears and cut a small, square hole in the left
side of the Tin Woodman's breast. Then, going to a chest of drawers, he took
out a pretty heart, made entirely of silk and stuffed with sawdust.
"Isn't
it a beauty?" he asked.
"It
is, indeed!" replied the Woodman, who was greatly pleased. "But is it
a kind heart?"
"Oh,
very!" answered Oz. He put the heart in the Woodman's breast and then
replaced the square of tin, soldering it neatly together where it had been cut.
"There,"
said he; "now you have a heart that any man might be proud of. I'm sorry I
had to put a patch on your breast, but it really couldn't be helped."
"Never
mind the patch," exclaimed the happy Woodman. "I am very grateful to
you, and shall never forget your kindness."
"Don't
speak of it," replied Oz.
Then
the Tin Woodman went back to his friends, who wished him every joy on account
of his good fortune.
The
Lion now walked to the Throne Room and knocked at the door.
"Come
in," said Oz.
"I
have come for my courage," announced the Lion, entering the room.
"Very
well," answered the little man; "I will get it for you."
He
went to a cupboard and reaching up to a high shelf took down a square green
bottle, the contents of which he poured into a green-gold dish, beautifully
carved. Placing this before the Cowardly Lion, who sniffed at it as if he did
not like it, the Wizard said:
"Drink."
"What
is it?" asked the Lion.
"Well,"
answered Oz, "if it were inside of you, it would be courage. You know, of
course, that courage is always inside one; so that this really cannot be called
courage until you have swallowed it. Therefore I advise you to drink it as soon
as possible."
The
Lion hesitated no longer, but drank till the dish was empty.
"How
do you feel now?" asked Oz.
"Full
of courage," replied the Lion, who went joyfully back to his friends to
tell them of his good fortune.
Oz,
left to himself, smiled to think of his success in
giving the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Lion exactly what they thought
they wanted. "How can I help being a humbug," he said, "when all
these people make me do things that everybody knows can't be done? It was easy
to make the Scarecrow and the Lion and the Woodman happy, because they imagined
I could do anything. But it will take more than imagination to carry Dorothy
back to Kansas, and I'm sure I don't know how it can be done."
For
three days Dorothy heard nothing from Oz. These were sad days for the little
girl, although her friends were all quite happy and contented. The Scarecrow
told them there were wonderful thoughts in his head; but he would not say what
they were because he knew no one could understand them but himself. When the
Tin Woodman walked about he felt his heart rattling around in his breast; and
he told Dorothy he had discovered it to be a kinder and more
tender heart than the one he had owned when he was made of flesh. The
Lion declared he was afraid of nothing on earth, and would gladly face an army
or a dozen of the fierce Kalidahs.
Thus
each of the little party was satisfied except Dorothy, who longed more than
ever to get back to Kansas.
On the
fourth day, to her great joy, Oz sent for her, and when she entered the Throne
Room he greeted her pleasantly:
"Sit
down, my dear; I think I have found the way to get you out of this
country."
"And
back to Kansas?" she asked eagerly.
"Well,
I'm not sure about Kansas," said Oz, "for I haven't the faintest
notion which way it lies. But the first thing to do is to cross the desert, and
then it should be easy to find your way home."
"How
can I cross the desert?" she inquired.
"Well,
I'll tell you what I think," said the little man. "You see, when I
came to this country it was in a balloon. You also came through the air, being
carried by a cyclone. So I believe the best way to get across the desert will
be through the air. Now, it is quite beyond my powers to make a cyclone; but
I've been thinking the matter over, and I believe I can make a balloon."
"How?"
asked Dorothy.
"A
balloon," said Oz, "is made of silk, which
is coated with glue to keep the gas in it. I have plenty of silk in the Palace,
so it will be no trouble to make the balloon. But in all this country there is
no gas to fill the balloon with, to make it float."
"If
it won't float," remarked Dorothy, "it will be of no use to us."
"True,"
answered Oz. "But there is another way to make it float, which is to fill
it with hot air. Hot air isn't as good as gas, for if the air should get cold
the balloon would come down in the desert, and we should be lost."
"We!"
exclaimed the girl. "Are you going with me?"
"Yes,
of course," replied Oz. "I am tired of being such a humbug. If I
should go out of this Palace my people would soon discover I am not a Wizard, and
then they would be vexed with me for having deceived them. So I have to stay
shut up in these rooms all day, and it gets tiresome. I'd much rather go back
to Kansas with you and be in a circus again."
"I
shall be glad to have your company," said Dorothy.
"Thank
you," he answered. "Now, if you will help me sew the silk together,
we will begin to work on our balloon."
So
Dorothy took a needle and thread, and as fast as Oz cut the strips of silk into
proper shape the girl sewed them neatly together. First there was a strip of
light green silk, then a strip of dark green and then a strip of emerald green;
for Oz had a fancy to make the balloon in different shades of the color about
them. It took three days to sew all the strips together, but when it was finished
they had a big bag of green silk more than twenty feet long.
Then
Oz painted it on the inside with a coat of thin glue, to make it airtight,
after which he announced that the balloon was ready.
"But
we must have a basket to ride in," he said. So he sent the soldier with
the green whiskers for a big clothes basket, which he fastened with many ropes
to the bottom of the balloon.
When
it was all ready, Oz sent word to his people that he was going to make a visit
to a great brother Wizard who lived in the clouds. The news spread rapidly
throughout the city and everyone came to see the wonderful sight.
Oz
ordered the balloon carried out in front of the Palace, and the people gazed
upon it with much curiosity. The Tin Woodman had chopped a big pile of wood,
and now he made a fire of it, and Oz held the bottom of the balloon over the
fire so that the hot air that arose from it would be caught in the silken bag.
Gradually the balloon swelled out and rose into the air, until finally the
basket just touched the ground.
Then
Oz got into the basket and said to all the people in a loud voice:
"I
am now going away to make a visit. While I am gone the Scarecrow will rule over
you. I command you to obey him as you would me."
The
balloon was by this time tugging hard at the rope that held it to the ground,
for the air within it was hot, and this made it so much lighter in weight than
the air without that it pulled hard to rise into the sky.
"Come,
Dorothy!" cried the Wizard. "Hurry up, or the balloon will fly away."
"I
can't find Toto anywhere," replied Dorothy, who did not wish to leave her
little dog behind. Toto had run into the crowd to bark at a kitten, and Dorothy
at last found him. She picked him up and ran towards the balloon.
She
was within a few steps of it, and Oz was holding out his hands to help her into
the basket, when, crack! went the ropes, and the
balloon rose into the air without her.
"Come
back!" she screamed. "I want to go, too!"
"I
can't come back, my dear," called Oz from the basket. "Good-bye!"
"Good-bye!"
shouted everyone, and all eyes were turned upward to where the Wizard was
riding in the basket, rising every moment farther and farther into the sky.
And
that was the last any of them ever saw of Oz, the Wonderful Wizard, though he
may have reached Omaha safely, and be there now, for all we know. But the
people remembered him lovingly, and said to one another:
"Oz
was always our friend. When he was here he built for us this beautiful Emerald
City, and now he is gone he has left the Wise Scarecrow to rule over us."
Still,
for many days they grieved over the loss of the Wonderful Wizard, and would not
be comforted.
Dorothy
wept bitterly at the passing of her hope to get home to Kansas again; but when
she thought it all over she was glad she had not gone up in a balloon. And she
also felt sorry at losing Oz, and so did her companions.
The
Tin Woodman came to her and said:
"Truly
I should be ungrateful if I failed to mourn for the man who gave me my lovely
heart. I should like to cry a little because Oz is gone, if you will kindly
wipe away my tears, so that I shall not rust."
"With
pleasure," she answered, and brought a towel at once. Then the Tin Woodman
wept for several minutes, and she watched the tears carefully and wiped them
away with the towel. When he had finished, he thanked her kindly and oiled
himself thoroughly with his jeweled oil-can, to guard against mishap.
The
Scarecrow was now the ruler of the Emerald City, and although he was not a
Wizard the people were proud of him. "For," they said, "there is
not another city in all the world that is ruled by a
stuffed man." And, so far as they knew, they were quite right.
The
morning after the balloon had gone up with Oz, the
four travelers met in the Throne Room and talked matters over. The Scarecrow
sat in the big throne and the others stood respectfully before him.
"We
are not so unlucky," said the new ruler, "for this Palace and the
Emerald City belong to us, and we can do just as we please. When I remember
that a short time ago I was up on a pole in a farmer's cornfield, and that now
I am the ruler of this beautiful City, I am quite satisfied with my lot."
"I
also," said the Tin Woodman, "am well-pleased with my new heart; and,
really, that was the only thing I wished in all the
world."
"For
my part, I am content in knowing I am as brave as any beast that ever lived, if
not braver," said the Lion modestly.
"If
Dorothy would only be contented to live in the Emerald City," continued
the Scarecrow, "we might all be happy together."
"But
I don't want to live here," cried Dorothy. "I want to go to Kansas,
and live with Aunt Em and Uncle Henry."
"Well,
then, what can be done?" inquired the Woodman.
The
Scarecrow decided to think, and he thought so hard that the pins and needles
began to stick out of his brains. Finally he said:
"Why
not call the Winged Monkeys, and ask them to carry you over the desert?"
"I
never thought of that!" said Dorothy joyfully. "It's just the thing.
I'll go at once for the Golden Cap."
When
she brought it into the Throne Room she spoke the magic words, and soon the
band of Winged Monkeys flew in through the open window and stood beside her.
"This
is the second time you have called us," said the Monkey King, bowing
before the little girl. "What do you wish?"
"I
want you to fly with me to Kansas," said Dorothy.
But
the Monkey King shook his head.
"That
cannot be done," he said. "We belong to this country alone, and
cannot leave it. There has never been a Winged Monkey in Kansas yet, and I
suppose there never will be, for they don't belong there. We shall be glad to
serve you in any way in our power, but we cannot cross the desert.
Good-bye."
And
with another bow, the Monkey King spread his wings and flew away through the
window, followed by all his band.
Dorothy
was ready to cry with disappointment. "I have wasted the charm of the
Golden Cap to no purpose," she said, "for the Winged Monkeys cannot
help me."
"It
is certainly too bad!" said the tender-hearted Woodman.
The
Scarecrow was thinking again, and his head bulged out so horribly that Dorothy
feared it would burst.
"Let
us call in the soldier with the green whiskers," he said, "and ask his advice."
So the
soldier was summoned and entered the Throne Room timidly, for while Oz was
alive he never was allowed to come farther than the door.
"This
little girl," said the Scarecrow to the soldier, "wishes to cross the
desert. How can she do so?"
"I
cannot tell," answered the soldier, "for nobody has ever crossed the
desert, unless it is Oz himself."
"Is
there no one who can help me?" asked Dorothy earnestly.
"Glinda
might," he suggested.
"Who
is Glinda?" inquired the Scarecrow.
"The Witch of the South. She is the most powerful of all the Witches,
and rules over the Quadlings. Besides, her castle stands on the edge of the
desert, so she may know a way to cross it."
"Glinda
is a Good Witch, isn't she?" asked the child.
"The
Quadlings think she is good," said the soldier, "and she is kind to
everyone. I have heard that Glinda is a beautiful woman, who knows how to keep
young in spite of the many years she has lived."
"How
can I get to her castle?" asked Dorothy.
"The
road is straight to the South," he answered, "but it is said to be
full of dangers to travelers. There are wild beasts in the woods, and a race of
queer men who do not like strangers to cross their country. For this reason
none of the Quadlings ever come to the Emerald City."
The
soldier then left them and the Scarecrow said:
"It
seems, in spite of dangers, that the best thing
Dorothy can do is to travel to the Land of the South and ask Glinda to help
her. For, of course, if Dorothy stays here she will never get back to
Kansas."
"You
must have been thinking again," remarked the Tin Woodman.
"I
have," said the Scarecrow.
"I
shall go with Dorothy," declared the Lion, "for I am tired of your
city and long for the woods and the country again. I am really a wild beast,
you know. Besides, Dorothy will need someone to protect her."
"That
is true," agreed the Woodman. "My axe may be of service to her; so I
also will go with her to the Land of the South."
"When
shall we start?" asked the Scarecrow.
"Are
you going?" they asked, in surprise.
"Certainly. If it wasn't for Dorothy I should never have had brains. She lifted
me from the pole in the cornfield and brought me to the Emerald City. So my
good luck is all due to her, and I shall never leave her until she starts back
to Kansas for good and all."
"Thank
you," said Dorothy gratefully. "You are all very kind to me. But I
should like to start as soon as possible."
"We
shall go tomorrow morning," returned the Scarecrow. "So now let us
all get ready, for it will be a long journey."
The
next morning Dorothy kissed the pretty green girl good-bye, and they all shook
hands with the soldier with the green whiskers, who had walked with them as far
as the gate. When the Guardian of the Gate saw them again he wondered greatly
that they could leave the beautiful City to get into new trouble. But he at
once unlocked their spectacles, which he put back into the green box, and gave
them many good wishes to carry with them.
"You
are now our ruler," he said to the Scarecrow; "so you must come back
to us as soon as possible."
"I
certainly shall if I am able," the Scarecrow replied; "but I must
help Dorothy to get home, first."
As
Dorothy bade the good-natured Guardian a last farewell she said:
"I
have been very kindly treated in your lovely City, and everyone has been good
to me. I cannot tell you how grateful I am."
"Don't
try, my dear," he answered. "We should like to keep you with us, but
if it is your wish to return to Kansas, I hope you will find a way." He
then opened the gate of the outer wall, and they walked forth and started upon
their journey.
The
sun shone brightly as our friends turned their faces toward the Land of the
South. They were all in the best of spirits, and laughed and chatted together.
Dorothy was once more filled with the hope of getting home, and the Scarecrow
and the Tin Woodman were glad to be of use to her. As for the Lion, he sniffed
the fresh air with delight and whisked his tail from side to side in pure joy
at being in the country again, while Toto ran around them and chased the moths
and butterflies, barking merrily all the time.
"City
life does not agree with me at all," remarked the Lion, as they walked
along at a brisk pace. "I have lost much flesh since I lived there, and
now I am anxious for a chance to show the other beasts how courageous I have
grown."
They
now turned and took a last look at the Emerald City. All they could see was a
mass of towers and steeples behind the green walls, and high up above
everything the spires and dome of the Palace of Oz.
"Oz
was not such a bad Wizard, after all," said the Tin Woodman, as he felt
his heart rattling around in his breast.
"He
knew how to give me brains, and very good brains, too," said the
Scarecrow.
"If
Oz had taken a dose of the same courage he gave me," added the Lion,
"he would have been a brave man."
Dorothy
said nothing. Oz had not kept the promise he made her, but he had done his
best, so she forgave him. As he said, he was a good man, even if he was a bad
Wizard.
The
first day's journey was through the green fields and bright flowers that stretched
about the Emerald City on every side. They slept that night on the grass, with
nothing but the stars over them; and they rested very well indeed.
In the
morning they traveled on until they came to a thick wood. There was no way of
going around it, for it seemed to extend to the right and left as far as they
could see; and, besides, they did not dare change the direction of their
journey for fear of getting lost. So they looked for the place where it would
be easiest to get into the forest.
The
Scarecrow, who was in the lead, finally discovered a big tree with such
wide-spreading branches that there was room for the party to pass underneath.
So he walked forward to the tree, but just as he came under the first branches
they bent down and twined around him, and the next minute he was raised from
the ground and flung headlong among his fellow travelers.
This
did not hurt the Scarecrow, but it surprised him, and he looked rather dizzy
when Dorothy picked him up.
"Here
is another space between the trees," called the Lion.
"Let
me try it first," said the Scarecrow, "for it doesn't hurt me to get
thrown about." He walked up to another tree, as he spoke, but its branches
immediately seized him and tossed him back again.
"This
is strange," exclaimed Dorothy. "What shall we do?"
"The
trees seem to have made up their minds to fight us, and stop our journey,"
remarked the Lion.
"I
believe I will try it myself," said the Woodman, and shouldering his axe,
he marched up to the first tree that had handled the Scarecrow so roughly. When
a big branch bent down to seize him the Woodman chopped at it so fiercely that
he cut it in two. At once the tree began shaking all its branches as if in
pain, and the Tin Woodman passed safely under it.
"Come
on!" he shouted to the others. "Be quick!" They all ran forward
and passed under the tree without injury, except Toto, who was caught by a
small branch and shaken until he howled. But the Woodman promptly chopped off
the branch and set the little dog free.
The
other trees of the forest did nothing to keep them back, so they made up their
minds that only the first row of trees could bend down their branches, and that
probably these were the policemen of the forest, and given this wonderful power
in order to keep strangers out of it.
The
four travelers walked with ease through the trees until they came to the
farther edge of the wood. Then, to their surprise, they found before them a
high wall which seemed to be made of white china. It was smooth, like the
surface of a dish, and higher than their heads.
"What
shall we do now?" asked Dorothy.
"I
will make a ladder," said the Tin Woodman, "for we certainly must
climb over the wall."
While
the Woodman was making a ladder from wood which he found in the forest Dorothy
lay down and slept, for she was tired by the long walk. The Lion also curled
himself up to sleep and Toto lay beside him.
The
Scarecrow watched the Woodman while he worked, and said to him:
"I
cannot think why this wall is here, nor what it is made of."
"Rest
your brains and do not worry about the wall," replied the Woodman.
"When we have climbed over it, we shall know what is on the other
side."
After
a time the ladder was finished. It looked clumsy, but the Tin Woodman was sure
it was strong and would answer their purpose. The Scarecrow waked Dorothy and
the Lion and Toto, and told them that the ladder was ready. The Scarecrow
climbed up the ladder first, but he was so awkward that Dorothy had to follow
close behind and keep him from falling off. When he got his head over the top
of the wall the Scarecrow said, "Oh, my!"
"Go
on," exclaimed Dorothy.
So the
Scarecrow climbed farther up and sat down on the top of the wall, and Dorothy
put her head over and cried, "Oh, my!" just as the Scarecrow had
done.
Then
Toto came up, and immediately began to bark, but Dorothy made him be still.
The
Lion climbed the ladder next, and the Tin Woodman came last; but both of them
cried, "Oh, my!" as soon as they looked over the wall. When they were
all sitting in a row on the top of the wall, they looked down and saw a strange
sight.
Before
them was a great stretch of country having a floor as smooth and shining and
white as the bottom of a big platter. Scattered around were many houses made
entirely of china and painted in the brightest colors. These houses were quite
small, the biggest of them reaching only as high as Dorothy's waist. There were
also pretty little barns, with china fences around them; and many cows and
sheep and horses and pigs and chickens, all made of china, were standing about
in groups.
But
the strangest of all were the people who lived in this queer country. There
were milkmaids and shepherdesses, with brightly colored bodices and golden
spots all over their gowns; and princesses with most gorgeous frocks of silver
and gold and purple; and shepherds dressed in knee breeches with pink and
yellow and blue stripes down them, and golden buckles on their shoes; and
princes with jeweled crowns upon their heads, wearing ermine robes and satin
doublets; and funny clowns in ruffled gowns, with round red spots upon their
cheeks and tall, pointed caps. And, strangest of all, these people were all
made of china, even to their clothes, and were so small that the tallest of
them was no higher than Dorothy's knee.
No one
did so much as look at the travelers at first, except one little purple china
dog with an extra-large head, which came to the wall and barked at them in a
tiny voice, afterwards running away again.
"How
shall we get down?" asked Dorothy.
They
found the ladder so heavy they could not pull it up, so the Scarecrow fell off
the wall and the others jumped down upon him so that the hard floor would not
hurt their feet. Of course they took pains not to light on his head and get the
pins in their feet. When all were safely down they picked up the Scarecrow,
whose body was quite flattened out, and patted his straw into shape again.
"We
must cross this strange place in order to get to the other side," said
Dorothy, "for it would be unwise for us to go any other way except due
South."
They
began walking through the country of the china people, and the first thing they
came to was a china milkmaid milking a china cow. As they drew near, the cow
suddenly gave a kick and kicked over the stool, the pail, and even the milkmaid
herself, and all fell on the china ground with a great clatter.
Dorothy
was shocked to see that the cow had broken her leg off, and that the pail was
lying in several small pieces, while the poor milkmaid had a nick in her left
elbow.
"There!"
cried the milkmaid angrily. "See what you have done! My cow has broken her
leg, and I must take her to the mender's shop and have it glued on again. What
do you mean by coming here and frightening my cow?"
"I'm
very sorry," returned Dorothy. "Please forgive us."
But
the pretty milkmaid was much too vexed to make any answer. She picked up the
leg sulkily and led her cow away, the poor animal limping on three legs. As she
left them the milkmaid cast many reproachful glances over her shoulder at the
clumsy strangers, holding her nicked elbow close to her side.
Dorothy
was quite grieved at this mishap.
"We
must be very careful here," said the kind-hearted Woodman, "or we may
hurt these pretty little people so they will never get over it."
A
little farther on Dorothy met a most beautifully dressed young Princess, who
stopped short as she saw the strangers and started to run away.
Dorothy
wanted to see more of the Princess, so she ran after her. But the china girl
cried out:
"Don't
chase me! Don't chase me!"
She
had such a frightened little voice that Dorothy stopped and said, "Why
not?"
"Because,"
answered the Princess, also stopping, a safe distance away, "if I run I
may fall down and break myself."
"But
could you not be mended?" asked the girl.
"Oh,
yes; but one is never so pretty after being mended, you know," replied the
Princess.
"I
suppose not," said Dorothy.
"Now
there is Mr. Joker, one of our clowns," continued the china lady,
"who is always trying to stand upon his head. He has broken himself so
often that he is mended in a hundred places, and doesn't look at all pretty.
Here he comes now, so you can see for yourself."
Indeed,
a jolly little clown came walking toward them, and Dorothy could see that in
spite of his pretty clothes of red and yellow and green he was completely
covered with cracks, running every which way and showing plainly that he had
been mended in many places.
The
Clown put his hands in his pockets, and after puffing out his cheeks and
nodding his head at them saucily, he said:
"My
lady fair,
Why do you stare
At poor old Mr. Joker?
You're quite as stiff
And prim as if
You'd eaten up a poker!"
"Be
quiet, sir!" said the Princess. "Can't you see these are strangers,
and should be treated with respect?"
"Well,
that's respect, I expect," declared the Clown, and immediately stood upon
his head.
"Don't
mind Mr. Joker," said the Princess to Dorothy. "He is considerably
cracked in his head, and that makes him foolish."
"Oh,
I don't mind him a bit," said Dorothy. "But you are so
beautiful," she continued, "that I am sure I could love you dearly.
Won't you let me carry you back to Kansas, and stand you on Aunt Em's mantel? I
could carry you in my basket."
"That
would make me very unhappy," answered the china Princess. "You see,
here in our country we live contentedly, and can talk and move around as we
please. But whenever any of us are taken away our joints at once stiffen, and
we can only stand straight and look pretty. Of course that is all that is
expected of us when we are on mantels and cabinets and drawing-room tables, but
our lives are much pleasanter here in our own country."
"I
would not make you unhappy for all the world!" exclaimed Dorothy. "So
I'll just say good-bye."
"Good-bye,"
replied the Princess.
They
walked carefully through the china country. The little animals and all the
people scampered out of their way, fearing the strangers would break them, and
after an hour or so the travelers reached the other side of the country and came
to another china wall.
It was
not so high as the first, however, and by standing upon the Lion's back they
all managed to scramble to the top. Then the Lion gathered his legs under him
and jumped on the wall; but just as he jumped, he upset a china church with his
tail and smashed it all to pieces.
"That
was too bad," said Dorothy, "but really I think we were lucky in not
doing these little people more harm than breaking a cow's leg and a church.
They are all so brittle!"
"They
are, indeed," said the Scarecrow, "and I am thankful I am made of
straw and cannot be easily damaged. There are worse things in the world than
being a Scarecrow."
After
climbing down from the china wall the travelers found themselves in a
disagreeable country, full of bogs and marshes and covered with tall, rank
grass. It was difficult to walk without falling into muddy holes, for the grass
was so thick that it hid them from sight. However, by carefully picking their
way, they got safely along until they reached solid ground. But here the
country seemed wilder than ever, and after a long and tiresome walk through the
underbrush they entered another forest, where the trees were bigger and older
than any they had ever seen.
"This
forest is perfectly delightful," declared the Lion, looking around him
with joy. "Never have I seen a more beautiful place."
"It
seems gloomy," said the Scarecrow.
"Not
a bit of it," answered the Lion. "I should like to live here all my
life. See how soft the dried leaves are under your feet and how rich and green
the moss is that clings to these old trees. Surely no wild beast could wish a
pleasanter home."
"Perhaps
there are wild beasts in the forest now," said Dorothy.
"I
suppose there are," returned the Lion, "but I do not see any of them
about."
They
walked through the forest until it became too dark to go any farther. Dorothy
and Toto and the Lion lay down to sleep, while the Woodman and the Scarecrow
kept watch over them as usual.
When
morning came, they started again. Before they had gone far they heard a low
rumble, as of the growling of many wild animals. Toto whimpered a little, but
none of the others was frightened, and they kept along the well-trodden path
until they came to an opening in the wood, in which were gathered hundreds of
beasts of every variety. There were tigers and elephants and bears and wolves
and foxes and all the others in the natural history, and for a moment Dorothy
was afraid. But the Lion explained that the animals were holding a meeting, and
he judged by their snarling and growling that they were in great trouble.
As he
spoke several of the beasts caught sight of him, and at once the great
assemblage hushed as if by magic. The biggest of the tigers came up to the Lion
and bowed, saying:
"Welcome,
O King of Beasts! You have come in good time to fight our enemy and bring peace
to all the animals of the forest once more."
"What
is your trouble?" asked the Lion quietly.
"We
are all threatened," answered the tiger, "by a fierce enemy which has
lately come into this forest. It is a most tremendous monster, like a great
spider, with a body as big as an elephant and legs as long as a tree trunk. It
has eight of these long legs, and as the monster crawls through the forest he
seizes an animal with a leg and drags it to his mouth, where he eats it as a
spider does a fly. Not one of us is safe while this fierce creature is alive,
and we had called a meeting to decide how to take care of ourselves when you
came among us."
The
Lion thought for a moment.
"Are
there any other lions in this forest?" he asked.
"No;
there were some, but the monster has eaten them all. And, besides, they were
none of them nearly so large and brave as you."
"If
I put an end to your enemy, will you bow down to me and obey me as King of the
Forest?" inquired the Lion.
"We
will do that gladly," returned the tiger; and all the other beasts roared
with a mighty roar: "We will!"
"Where
is this great spider of yours now?" asked the Lion.
"Yonder,
among the oak trees," said the tiger, pointing with his forefoot.
"Take
good care of these friends of mine," said the Lion, "and I will go at
once to fight the monster."
He
bade his comrades good-bye and marched proudly away to do battle with the
enemy.
The
great spider was lying asleep when the Lion found him, and it looked so ugly
that its foe turned up his nose in disgust. Its legs were quite as long as the
tiger had said, and its body covered with coarse black hair. It had a great
mouth, with a row of sharp teeth a foot long; but its head was joined to the
pudgy body by a neck as slender as a wasp's waist. This gave the Lion a hint of
the best way to attack the creature, and as he knew it was easier to fight it
asleep than awake, he gave a great spring and landed directly upon the
monster's back. Then, with one blow of his heavy paw, all armed with sharp
claws, he knocked the spider's head from its body. Jumping down, he watched it
until the long legs stopped wiggling, when he knew it was quite dead.
The
Lion went back to the opening where the beasts of the forest were waiting for
him and said proudly:
"You
need fear your enemy no longer."
Then
the beasts bowed down to the Lion as their King, and he promised to come back
and rule over them as soon as Dorothy was safely on her way to Kansas.
The
four travelers passed through the rest of the forest in safety, and when they
came out from its gloom saw before them a steep hill, covered from top to
bottom with great pieces of rock.
"That
will be a hard climb," said the Scarecrow, "but we must get over the
hill, nevertheless."
So he
led the way and the others followed. They had nearly reached the first rock
when they heard a rough voice cry out, "Keep back!"
"Who
are you?" asked the Scarecrow.
Then a
head showed itself over the rock and the same voice said, "This hill
belongs to us, and we don't allow anyone to cross it."
"But
we must cross it," said the Scarecrow. "We're going to the country of
the Quadlings."
"But
you shall not!" replied the voice, and there stepped from behind the rock
the strangest man the travelers had ever seen.
He was
quite short and stout and had a big head, which was flat at the top and
supported by a thick neck full of wrinkles. But he had no arms at all, and,
seeing this, the Scarecrow did not fear that so helpless a creature could
prevent them from climbing the hill. So he said, "I'm sorry not to do as
you wish, but we must pass over your hill whether you like it or not," and
he walked boldly forward.
As quick
as lightning the man's head shot forward and his neck stretched out until the
top of the head, where it was flat, struck the Scarecrow in the middle and sent
him tumbling, over and over, down the hill. Almost as quickly as it came the
head went back to the body, and the man laughed harshly as he said, "It
isn't as easy as you think!"
A
chorus of boisterous laughter came from the other rocks, and Dorothy saw
hundreds of the armless Hammer-Heads upon the hillside, one behind every rock.
The
Lion became quite angry at the laughter caused by the Scarecrow's mishap, and
giving a loud roar that echoed like thunder, he dashed up the hill.
Again
a head shot swiftly out, and the great Lion went rolling down the hill as if he
had been struck by a cannon ball.
Dorothy
ran down and helped the Scarecrow to his feet, and the Lion came up to her,
feeling rather bruised and sore, and said, "It is useless to fight people
with shooting heads; no one can withstand them."
"What
can we do, then?" she asked.
"Call
the Winged Monkeys," suggested the Tin Woodman. "You have still the
right to command them once more."
"Very
well," she answered, and putting on the Golden Cap she uttered the magic
words. The Monkeys were as prompt as ever, and in a few moments the entire band
stood before her.
"What
are your commands?" inquired the King of the Monkeys, bowing low.
"Carry
us over the hill to the country of the Quadlings," answered the girl.
"It
shall be done," said the King, and at once the Winged Monkeys caught the
four travelers and Toto up in their arms and flew away with them. As they
passed over the hill the Hammer-Heads yelled with vexation, and shot their
heads high in the air, but they could not reach the Winged Monkeys, which
carried Dorothy and her comrades safely over the hill and set them down in the
beautiful country of the Quadlings.
"This
is the last time you can summon us," said the leader to Dorothy; "so
good-bye and good luck to you."
"Good-bye,
and thank you very much," returned the girl; and the Monkeys rose into the
air and were out of sight in a twinkling.
The
country of the Quadlings seemed rich and happy. There was field upon field of
ripening grain, with well-paved roads running between, and pretty rippling
brooks with strong bridges across them. The fences and houses and bridges were
all painted bright red, just as they had been painted yellow in the country of
the Winkies and blue in the country of the Munchkins. The Quadlings themselves,
who were short and fat and looked chubby and good-natured, were dressed all in
red, which showed bright against the green grass and the yellowing grain.
The
Monkeys had set them down near a farmhouse, and the four travelers walked up to
it and knocked at the door. It was opened by the farmer's wife, and when
Dorothy asked for something to eat the woman gave them all a good dinner, with
three kinds of cake and four kinds of cookies, and a bowl of milk for Toto.
"How
far is it to the Castle of Glinda?" asked the child.
"It
is not a great way," answered the farmer's wife. "Take the road to
the South and you will soon reach it."
Thanking
the good woman, they started afresh and walked by the fields and across the
pretty bridges until they saw before them a very beautiful Castle. Before the
gates were three young girls, dressed in handsome red uniforms trimmed with
gold braid; and as Dorothy approached, one of them said to her:
"Why
have you come to the South Country?"
"To
see the Good Witch who rules here," she answered. "Will you take me
to her?"
"Let
me have your name, and I will ask Glinda if she will receive you." They
told who they were, and the girl soldier went into the Castle. After a few
moments she came back to say that Dorothy and the others were to be admitted at
once.
Before
they went to see Glinda, however, they were taken to a room of the Castle,
where Dorothy washed her face and combed her hair, and the Lion shook the dust
out of his mane, and the Scarecrow patted himself into his best shape, and the
Woodman polished his tin and oiled his joints.
When
they were all quite presentable they followed the soldier girl into a big room
where the Witch Glinda sat upon a throne of rubies.
She
was both beautiful and young to their eyes. Her hair was a rich red in color
and fell in flowing ringlets over her shoulders. Her dress was pure white but
her eyes were blue, and they looked kindly upon the little girl.
"What
can I do for you, my child?" she asked.
Dorothy
told the Witch all her story: how the cyclone had brought her to the Land of
Oz, how she had found her companions, and of the wonderful adventures they had
met with.
"My
greatest wish now," she added, "is to get back to Kansas, for Aunt Em
will surely think something dreadful has happened to me, and that will make her
put on mourning; and unless the crops are better this year than they were last,
I am sure Uncle Henry cannot afford it."
Glinda
leaned forward and kissed the sweet, upturned face of the loving little girl.
"Bless
your dear heart," she said, "I am sure I can tell you of a way to get
back to Kansas." Then she added, "But, if I do, you must give me the
Golden Cap."
"Willingly!"
exclaimed Dorothy; "indeed, it is of no use to me now, and when you have
it you can command the Winged Monkeys three times."
"And
I think I shall need their service just those three times," answered
Glinda, smiling.
Dorothy
then gave her the Golden Cap, and the Witch said to the Scarecrow, "What
will you do when Dorothy has left us?"
"I
will return to the Emerald City," he replied, "for Oz has made me its
ruler and the people like me. The only thing that worries me is how to cross
the hill of the Hammer-Heads."
"By
means of the Golden Cap I shall command the Winged Monkeys to carry you to the
gates of the Emerald City," said Glinda, "for it would be a shame to
deprive the people of so wonderful a ruler."
"Am
I really wonderful?" asked the Scarecrow.
"You
are unusual," replied Glinda.
Turning
to the Tin Woodman, she asked, "What will become of you when Dorothy leaves
this country?"
He
leaned on his axe and thought a moment. Then he said, "The Winkies were
very kind to me, and wanted me to rule over them after the Wicked Witch died. I
am fond of the Winkies, and if I could get back again to the Country of the
West, I should like nothing better than to rule over them forever."
"My
second command to the Winged Monkeys," said Glinda "will be that they
carry you safely to the land of the Winkies. Your brain may not be so large to
look at as those of the Scarecrow, but you are really brighter than he is--when
you are well polished--and I am sure you will rule the Winkies wisely and
well."
Then
the Witch looked at the big, shaggy Lion and asked, "When Dorothy has
returned to her own home, what will become of you?"
"Over
the hill of the Hammer-Heads," he answered, "lies a grand old forest,
and all the beasts that live there have made me their King. If I could only get
back to this forest, I would pass my life very happily there."
"My
third command to the Winged Monkeys," said Glinda, "shall be to carry
you to your forest. Then, having used up the powers of the Golden Cap, I shall
give it to the King of the Monkeys, that he and his band may thereafter be free
for evermore."
The
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Lion now thanked the Good Witch earnestly
for her kindness; and Dorothy exclaimed:
"You
are certainly as good as you are beautiful! But you have not yet told me how to
get back to Kansas."
"Your
Silver Shoes will carry you over the desert," replied Glinda. "If you
had known their power you could have gone back to your Aunt Em the very first
day you came to this country."
"But
then I should not have had my wonderful brains!" cried the Scarecrow.
"I might have passed my whole life in the farmer's cornfield."
"And
I should not have had my lovely heart," said the Tin Woodman. "I
might have stood and rusted in the forest till the end of the world."
"And
I should have lived a coward forever," declared the Lion, "and no
beast in all the forest would have had a good word to say to me."
"This
is all true," said Dorothy, "and I am glad I was of use to these good
friends. But now that each of them has had what he most desired, and each is
happy in having a kingdom to rule besides, I think I should like to go back to
Kansas."
"The
Silver Shoes," said the Good Witch, "have wonderful powers. And one
of the most curious things about them is that they can carry you to any place
in the world in three steps, and each step will be made in the wink of an eye.
All you have to do is to knock the heels together three times and command the
shoes to carry you wherever you wish to go."
"If
that is so," said the child joyfully, "I will ask them to carry me
back to Kansas at once."
She
threw her arms around the Lion's neck and kissed him, patting his big head
tenderly. Then she kissed the Tin Woodman, who was weeping in a way most
dangerous to his joints. But she hugged the soft, stuffed body of the Scarecrow
in her arms instead of kissing his painted face, and found she was crying herself
at this sorrowful parting from her loving comrades.
Glinda
the Good stepped down from her ruby throne to give the little girl a good-bye
kiss, and Dorothy thanked her for all the kindness she had shown to her friends
and herself.
Dorothy
now took Toto up solemnly in her arms, and having said one last good-bye she
clapped the heels of her shoes together three times, saying:
"Take
me home to Aunt Em!"
Instantly
she was whirling through the air, so swiftly that all she could see or feel was
the wind whistling past her ears.
The
Silver Shoes took but three steps, and then she stopped so suddenly that she
rolled over upon the grass several times before she knew where she was.
At
length, however, she sat up and looked about her.
"Good
gracious!" she cried.
For
she was sitting on the broad Kansas prairie, and just before her was the new
farmhouse Uncle Henry built after the cyclone had carried away the old one.
Uncle Henry was milking the cows in the barnyard, and Toto had jumped out of
her arms and was running toward the barn, barking furiously.
Dorothy
stood up and found she was in her stocking-feet. For the Silver Shoes had
fallen off in her flight through the air, and were lost forever in the desert.
Aunt
Em had just come out of the house to water the cabbages when she looked up and
saw Dorothy running toward her.
"My
darling child!" she cried, folding the little girl in her arms and
covering her face with kisses. "Where in the world did you come
from?"
"From
the Land of Oz," said Dorothy gravely. "And here is Toto, too. And
oh, Aunt Em! I'm so glad to be at home again!"