THE WIZARD OF OZ
By L. Frank Baum
Folk lore, 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 incident 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 pleasure children
of today. It aspires to being a modernized fairy tale, in which the wonderment
and joy are retained and the heart-aches and nightmares are left out. L. Frank
Baum, Chicago, April 1900
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 cooking stove, 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.
"She
caught Toto by the ear."
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 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.
To-day, however, they were not playing. Uncle
Henry sat upon the door-step 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 alow 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 half way 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.
A strange thing then 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.
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 green sward 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 plaits 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.
"I
am the Witch of the North."
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 toes, 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.
What ever 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 favour."
"Who are the Munchkins?" enquired
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:
"let
dorothy go to the city of emeralds."
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?" enquired 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.
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 brick. Within a short time
she was walking briskly toward the Emerald City, her silver shoes tinkling
merrily on the hard, yellow roadbed. The sun shone bright and the birds sang
sweet and Dorothy did not feel nearly as 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.
Towards 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 down 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."
"You
must be a great sorceress."
"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 this 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.
"Dorothy
gazed thoughtfully at the Scarecrow."
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
enquired; "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 the great 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 cant 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."
a few hours the
road began to be rough, and the walking grew so difficult that the Scarecrow
often stumbled over the yellow brick, 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."
"'I
was only made yesterday,' said the Scarecrow."
"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 road side
now, and the land was rough and untilled. Towards 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 travellers 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.
Dorothy awoke the sun
was shining through the trees and Toto had long been out chasing birds and
squirrels. She sat up and looked around her. There was the 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 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
enquired, 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 travellers 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."
"'This
is a great comfort,' said the Tin Woodman."
"Oh, I see;"
said the Tin Woodman. "But, after all, brains are not the best things in
the world."
"Have you any?" enquired 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 wood-chopper, 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 tin-smith 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 tinner, 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 tinner
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 tinner 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.
"You
ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
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 jaw 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."
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
travellers. 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 was 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
backwards, 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."
"The
tree fell with a crash into the gulf."
"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 travellers 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 further 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 river bank 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.
little party of
travellers awakened 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 down
stream, 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, and 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, when 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
river bank 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, back 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, which, 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 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 it 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 bright-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 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 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.
"The
Stork carried him up into the air."
"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.
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 towards 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."
"Permit
me to introduce to you her Majesty, the Queen."
"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?" and 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 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 will 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 river-side 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
courtesy, 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.
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 small 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 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 farm house,
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; so that 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 any
one 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, in
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
Lion ate some of the porridge."
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 want 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.
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 says 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 to-morrow 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 body to support it or any arms or legs
whatever. There was no hair upon this head, but it had eyes and nose and mouth,
and was 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 helpless little girl," she
answered.
"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; "and 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 she 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,"
spake 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."
"The
Eyes looked at her thoughtfully."
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 come 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 so 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."
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?"
enquired 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 all 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 afar
off. She saw all her wolves lying dead, and the strangers still travelling
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 towards 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 toward 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; and 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.
"The
Monkeys wound many coils about his body."
"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 door step. 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 court-yard 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 some day 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
court-yard 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.
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 travelled 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
enquired,
"The
Tinsmiths worked for three days and four nights."
"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 court-yard
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, when 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 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
to-morrow!"
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 travellers 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.
will remember there
was no road—not even a pathway—between the castle of the Wicked Witch and the
Emerald City. When the four travellers 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, "we shall sometime come to some place, I am sure."
But day by day passed away, and they still saw
nothing before them but the yellow 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 grey
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.
"The
Monkeys caught Dorothy in their arms and flew away with her."
"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 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
Gayalette'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 very 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, whomsoever 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 to always 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 travellers 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!"
four travellers walked
up to the great gate of the Emerald City and rang the bell. After ringing
several times it was opened by the same Guardian of the Gate 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, and
when the people heard from the Guardian of the Gate that they had melted the
Wicked Witch of the West they all gathered around the travellers 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 travellers 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 travellers passed a sleepless night,
each thinking of the gift Oz had promised to bestow upon 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 Voice, seeming to
come from somewhere near the top of the great dome, and it said, solemnly.
"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 to-morrow, 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 the tears from his eyes with his coat-sleeve.
"Exactly
so! I am a humbug."
"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
enquired.
"Oh, I am a ventriloquist," said the
little man, "and I can throw the sound of my voice wherever I wish; so
that you thought it was coming out of the Head. Here arethe 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 travelled 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
to-morrow 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. 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 to-morrow," 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 to-morrow 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 that she was willing to forgive
him everything.
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 bulging out at the top with brains.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
"'I
feel wise, indeed,' said the Scarecrow."
"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 tinners' 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."
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 of men 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 said, 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
enquired.
"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 for us 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 air-tight, 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 toward 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.
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 jewelled 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 travellers 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 I am now 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,"
"The
Scarecrow sat on the big throne."
"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?"
enquired 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
asked 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 an
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 almost 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
further 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?" enquired 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 travellers. 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 to-morrow morning,"
returned the Scarecrow. "So now let us all get ready, for it will be a
long journey."
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 travelled 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
branches bent down and twined around him."
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 travellers.
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 travellers walked with ease through
the trees until they came to the further 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."
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 further 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 colours. 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 milk-maids and shepherdesses, with
bright-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 jewelled 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 travellers
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 milk-maid milking a
china cow. As they drew near the cow suddenly gave a kick and kicked over the
stool, the pail, and even the milk-maid herself, all falling on the china
ground with a great clatter.
Dorothy was shocked to see that the cow had
broken her leg short off, and that the pail was lying in several small pieces,
while the poor milk-maid had a nick in her left elbow.
"There!" cried the milk-maid,
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 milk-maid 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 milk-maid cast many
reproachful glances over her shoulder at the clumsy strangers, holding her
nicked elbow close to her side.
"These
people were all made of china."
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
beautiful 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 couldn't you 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 now 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 stareAt poor old
Mr. Joker?You're quite as stiffAnd prim as ifYou'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 mantle-shelf? I could carry you in my basket."
"That would make me
very unhappy," answered the china princess. "You see, here in our own
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 mantle-shelves 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 travellers
reached the other side of the country and came to another china wall.
It was not as 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."
climbing down
from the china wall the travellers found themselves in a disagreeable country,
full of bogs and marshes and covered with tall, rank grass. It was difficult to
walk far 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?" enquired 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 fore-foot.
"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 it's 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
Head shot forward and struck the Scarecrow."
four travellers 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 travellers
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?" enquired
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 travellers 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 farm
house, and the four travellers 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.
"You
must give me the Golden Cap."
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 brains 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
beside, 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,
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 farm-house 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 joyously.
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!"