L. Frank Baum - Oz 17

by The Cowardly Lion Of Oz

  Bob chattered quite gaily to Nickadoodle, but Notta and the Cowardly Lion walked along in silence. Notta, after the valiant way the lion had defended them from the Uns, could not bear the idea of betraying this strange new friend. Better a thousand times turn blue than have the kind-hearted Cowardly Lion fall into the merciless hands of Mustafa.

  “Perhaps the old Mudger’s ring will not work any way,” reflected Notta uncomfortably. “Perhaps it was just a threat to frighten us.” If they could just reach this wonderful Emerald City and tell their story to Dorothy, everything would turn out happily. And that, decided Notta, was what he would

  do.

  The Cowardly Lion, on his part, was thinking how terrible it would have been had he eaten Notta on that first morning of their meeting. He felt guilty every time he looked at the jolly, companionable clown. The more he thought about the Patchwork Girl’s suggestion, the more ashamed of himself he felt. Why it was perfectly unish, this idea of devouring a brave man. No wonder he had grown a larger bunch of feathers than Notta and Bob! If there was no other way to acquire courage, he would stay a coward forever and that was the end of that! No sooner had the Cowardly Lion reached this conclusion, than he, too, felt lighthearted and happy again and began to roar with appreciation at Notta’s funny antics and jokes.

  When they reached the Flyaboutabus, it was jerking at its rope as if it was anxious to be off, and so were they all for that matter.

  “Which way is the Emerald City from here?” asked Notta, turning to the Cowardly Lion. “I’ve lost my bearings.” The Cowardly Lion looked first north, then south. He knew they were in the Munchkin Country, but their flight to Un had confused him terribly.

  “I think it’s straight ahead,” he roared uncertainly. “Let’s run along the ground for a while till we’re sure.”

  “All right,” agreed the clown and, calling to Bob, started for the bus. But half way he stopped in horror. Bob, though perfectly unconscious of it, had turned as blue as washday. At the same time Notta caught the Cowardly Lion staring at him fixedly.

  “What’s the matter?” choked Notta. “Am I blue, too?”

  “Not very,” faltered the lion, whose heart was in his throat at the awful change in his friends. Notta looked down at his hands with a shudder. “I’m as blue as the Danube,” he muttered unhappily. “But that’s all the better. Why, a blue clown ought to be the greatest curiosity yet. Wait till I reach America with my new skin and feathers.” Notta went on trying to make a joke of it, but his voice shook a little in spite of himself, and when he tried a light double somersault an even worse thing happened. Halfway around he found himself unable to move, and there he stood on his head, powerless to straighten his arms or legs.

  There was no doubt about it, Mustafa had taken off his magic ring. For when Bob tried to run to Notta’s assistance he was caught with one foot in the air.

  “Help, help!” croaked Snorer, flying frantically from one to the other. His nose came off the hook and hung straight down, but he never even noticed it.

  “Fly up a tree, can’t you!” roared the Cowardly Lion, as Snorer flapped into his face and almsot blinded him with his wings.

  With a quick spring he reached Notta’s side. “Better lift me down,” puffed the clown, for under the blue he was turning crimson from standing so long upside down. The Cowardly Lion obeyed, and placed him gently on the ground, where he lay as stiff as a statue. “It’s magic!” growled the lion. “Blue

  magic!”

  “It’s Mustafa!” groaned Notta, looking dismally at Bob. “I guess I’ll have to tell you the whole story.” In short jerks and gasps, for he could barely move his lips, he told how Mustafa had sent them to capture the Cowardly Lion and of how he had threatened them with the magic ring if they failed to obey him.

  “But you did disobey him,” breathed the lion, lashing his tail. “Even when you knew what would happen, you made no attempt to capture me!” Tears of gratitude rolled down his nose. “You’re the bravest man in Oz,” he choked miserably, “but look what it has brought you to?”

  “Weren’t you looking for the bravest man in Oz?” asked Notta, suddenly remembering their first conversation. “That’s how we happened to meet you, I think.”

  The Cowardly Lion nodded gloomily, for it was now his turn to confess. With many apologies and sighs he told Notta of his quest for courage and his determination to devour a brave man, the bravest man that he met.

  “But you didn’t do it!” shouted Notta triumphantly. “And many a chance you’ve had if you had cared to take it. Cheer up, old fellow, there’s some way out of it.”

  Snorer with suppressed gurgles and sobs had listened to both stories. Now he held up his claw. “As I understand,” croaked the bird, pushing his curly nose back of his ear, “Mustafa’s ring has turned black because you have not captured the Cowardly Lion?”

  “That’s about it,” admitted Notta, trying to wink at Bob, but finding it impossible to move his

  eyelid.

  “Well, then,” sniffled Snorer with a little hop, “why not capture him? Wait, I’ll get a rope. He flew off to the Flyaboutabus, first stopping to comfort Bob Up. “Let us meet magic with strategy,” cawed Nick, flying back with a long piece of rope in his bill.

  “I’ll never urge him a step,” declared Notta firmly. “Not if I have to stay blue and still for the rest of my life.”

  “You won’t have to,” rumbled the Cowardly Lion, who was beginning to look quite cheerful. “I’ll run all the way to Mudge and give myself up to this ridiculous Mustafa.” He made a little spring, but Snorer with a screech barred the way.

  “Have you no sense?” shrilled Nick sharply. “I said strategy.” He tied the rope hastily around the Cowardly Lion’s neck and placed the end in Notta’s stiff hand. And no sooner had he done so than Bob, with a little shout, ran over to Notta and the clown also found himself able to move about once more. While Nick and the Cowardly Lion watched anxiously, the offensive blue faded out, leaving Notta’s face white and powdery and Bob’s rosy and freckled.

  “So long as you keep hold of the rope everything will be all right,” chuckled Snorer strutting proudly up and down, “for while you have the rope the Cowardly Lion is captured.” “Then we’ll just run double harness until we think of something else,” said the Cowardly Lion. “Tie the rope ‘round your waist, Notta, old boy. Then you’ll be sure not to lose me. Rather thoughtfully Notta obeyed, but he could not help thinking that being tied to a Cowardly Lion might prove awfully awkward at times. The Cowardly Lion, however, was in fine spirits, so Notta, swallowing his misgivings, stepped with the others

  into the Flyaboutabus. “And now that

  I’m captured,” chuckled the Cowardly Lion mischievously, “what next?”

  “Oh, let someone else decide that,” yawned Snorer. Flopping down in the last seat of the bus he was soon sound asleep and snoring loudly.

  CHAPTER 14 Flying in a Deluge

  LET’S find Dorothy,” shouted Bob. It was necessary to shout, for Nick’s snores rattled in their ears like a series of explosions. The Cowardly Lion and Notta looked doubtfully at each other. They were not sure that Mustafa’s magic ring would allow them to proceed toward the Emerald City.

  “We’ll try it,” shouted Notta. “Which way is it?”

  “I don’t know,” roared the Cowardly Lion. “Let’s fly up and look around till I see a familiar landmark.” So Notta pressed all the buttons necessary to start the bus, and up they went with such a rush that Bob almost lost his cap and the Cowardly Lion’s mane waved like a flag. Bob put both fingers in his ears, for with Nick’s snores and the whir of the feather wheels the noise was deafening. When they were about a hundred feet above ground, Notta slowed the bus down and ran it gently and evenly over the pleasant blue fields and forests of the Munchkins. Bob, slipping into the seat beside Snorer, put his nose, which had fallen off his ear, back on its hook. Immediately Snorer awoke and stamped his foot, but in a wink he was asleep again and
Bob watched in open-eyed wonder, for snoring in his own ear wakened him about every three minutes, and when he wakened he stamped, so that between snoring and stamping the noise was worse than ever.

  “I wish our friend was not such a loud sleeper,” growled the Cowardly Lion. “I can’t even hear my own heart beat. Say, was that thunder or Snorer?”

  “Thunder,” quavered Notta anxiously. “See how dark it’s growing! Let’s go down!”

  “It’s raining,” cried Bob Up in the same breath.

  Notta touched the button marked “Faster,” and was about to press the one marked “Down,” when a blinding flash of lightning zig-zagged across their path. The Cowardly Lion, with a roar of terror, dashed under the last seat of the bus, dragging Notta with him. In his clutch to save himself the clown pressed the button marked “Turn,” so that the Flyaboutabus not only increased its speed but churned ‘round and ‘round till the four occupants were almost knocked senseless.

  To make matters worse, the rain came down in perfect torrents. Snorer, awakened by the awful clamor, put his wing around Bob and clutched the arm of the seat with his curling claws. Even so they were shaken up and down till Bob’s teeth chattered and nearly drowned by the storm. Notta and the Cowardly Lion in the bottom of the bus were faring even worse. Every time the clown scrambled to his feet, the Cowardly Lion, terrified by a new flash of lightning, would spring in another direction and, tied to him by the stout rope, Notta would be dragged along.

  “Help! Help! I’m drowning,” gurgled Notta after the eighth fall. A sudden flash of lightning

  showed Snorer that the Flyaboutabus was more than half full of water, and Notta lying entirely immersed.

  “Bob,” cried Nick, “can you hold on a minute by yourself?” Bob nodded his head and with closed eyes grasped the side of the bus. He did not dare open his eyes, for flying in a circle had made him dreadfully dizzy.

  Snorer sidled cautiously to the edge of the seat and with a little spring jumped on the Cowardly Lion’s back. The big beast was trembling like a runaway race horse, and the beating of his heart shook Snorer up and down. But holding on to his mane with one claw, he felt about in the water till his other one fastened in the belt of Notta’s baggy suit. Then he pulled with all his might till, dripping and breathless, the poor clown lay across the Cowardly Lion’s back. “Climb on the seat,” directed Nick sternly. “Do you want to drown the most beautiful person in Oz?” With shaking legs the Cowardly Lion obeyed, Nick holding Notta safely in place, and when they were both on the seat he begged the lion, with tears in his eyes, to control himself. The Cowardly Lion, catching a glimpse of poor Notta, and realizing for the first time what he had done, wept with embarrassment.

  “This is what comes of being tied to a coward,” he roared dismally, “but someone clapped me on the back.”

  “It was a thunderclap,” chattered Snorer. “Just close your eyes and hang together, and Bob and I will do the same.” Hastily he flew back to the little boy, who was rolling and slipping around on the wet seat. Notta, wise from past experiences, fastened his arms tightly around the Cowardly Lion’s neck.

  “Divided we fall, together we stand,” he panted weakly. “If you’re going to jump give me a signal, won’t you?” The Cowardly Lion made no answer but just dug his claws into the seat and closed his eyes tighter. The wind whistled shrilly in their ears, the rain pelted mercilessly upon their heads and the bus tumbled and tossed through the air like a rudderless ship.

  Suddenly Snorer, who was less affected by the motion of the bus than the others, felt water on

  his feet.

  “Somebody bail out the boat,” he shrieked in real terror, “it’s sinking!” And so it was. The feather wheels, wet and draggled by the rain, moved slower and slower, and the bus was now so full of water that every time it lurched sideways the luckless voyagers were submerged. It was like flying in a very deep and dangerous tub.

  “I never expected to be drowned in the air,” screamed Notta. “Shall we jump overboard?” “Do you want to be dashed to pieces?” shouted Nick in reply. “Hold on to the sides.” He called more directions, but the fury of the storm drowned even his shrill voice, and each found he had enough to do to keep from being washed over the edge. The water rose higher and higher and the bus sank lower and lower. With eyes closed, and only their heads above water, the four clung grimly to the feathery edges. When the bus finally struck the ground it did so with such force that they all let go and fell back into the water. The Cowardly Lion sprang out first, pulling Notta along with him. Then, realizing Bob was still struggling in the water, he impulsively sprang back, seized the little boy in his teeth and jumped out again. A shout from Snorer made him pause. Notta was bumping along on the end of the rope like a big bag of clothes.

  “You’ve killed him,” wailed Nick angrily. But just then, with a watery sigh, the clown opened his eyes. Immediately he began fumbling in his chest pocket. “What are you trying to do?” screamed Snorer.

  “My disguise,” choked the clown. “I must put on my disguise-first disguise, then joke and run, you know!”

  “You don’t need any disguise,” wailed the Cowardly Lion remorsefully. “You look like almost

  anyone.

  “I feel the same way,” coughed the clown. “Am I dashed or drowned or both?”

  “Neither,” croaked Snorer sorrowfully. “Only tied to a very forgetful friend.” The disguises, concealed in various parts of Notta’s apparel, were dragged down in disfiguring lumps about his knees. There were four bumps on his forehead and one was coming on the back of his head. Bob, though shivering and wet, was otherwise unhurt, so he and Nick helped Notta to the Cowardly Lion’s back, and, dripping and shaken, the air-wrecked party started toward a little hut near which they had fallen.

  “Where’s the Fallaboutabus?” muttered Notta thickly, as the Cowardly Lion stumbled over the

  sill.

  “I don’t care where it is,” groaned the lion.’T hope it’s busted. I’m against flying in all its branches.” He dropped panting on the hearth, and Notta did not even move from his back. The hut evidently belonged to some thrifty woodcutter. It was quite neat and comfortable and there was a fire all ready to light.

  Bob, feeling very important, started a cheerful blaze, and though the rain still rattled on the roof, inside it was quite cozy and comfortable. Notta, with Bob’s help, took out all of his disguises, and the three that had already been used he hung out in full view. But the clown was so downhearted when Bob started to shake out the others, and seemed to attach so much importance to keeping them secret, that Snorer, without unrolling them, carried them into the next room and hung them on hooks to dry. Notta was quite thin and fallen without them, but when his suit had dried and he had powdered his nose with some of the woodcutter’s flour he felt quite restored, and it was not until then that he discovered his feathers were gone. With a little shout he looked at the Cowardly Lion and Bob.

  “We’ve all shed our feathers,” he cried exultantly. “They must have washed away. The Cowardly Lion was so pleased that he jumped for joy, and started to run and look in the woodcutter’s mirror, upsetting Notta as usual.

  “It’s because you’re no longer unish,” explained Snorer wisely, as Notta scrambled to his feet and hastened to accompany the lion to the mirror. “When you both stopped planning unwise and unfair things the feathers just naturally dropped out, and Bob’s followed suit, for there isn’t an unish bone in that boy’s body,” continued Snorer, rolling his eyes knowingly. “And now that we’ve all decided to stick together everything will be as happy as possible.”

  “We don’t stick together very well,” sighed the Cowardly Lion, hanging his head. “Did I hurt

  you, Notta, old fellow?”

  “Not much,” said the clown, “but I’ll have to use more padding if you are going to be so impetuous.” Being tied to a Cowardly Lion was proving even worse than he had expected. The Cowardly Lion himself felt uncomfortable and ill at ease.
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  “See here,” he rumbled, as they gathered round the fire again, “I think we had better separate. I’ll go on to Mudge and you three go to the Emerald City for help.”

  “No,” objected Notta, wrinkling his poor bumped forehead, “let’s stick together a bit longer, for I don’t know the way to the Emerald City, and the nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine lions might tear you to pieces before we got back. Traveling in this country is dreadfully uncertain. Why, we don’t even know where we are now?”

  “But the sun’s out,” cried Bob, running to the window. “Let’s see if the Flyaboutabus is still around.” The Cowardly Lion started at once to run toward the door, but Notta, with a flying leap jumped on his back and thus avoided another fall. The bus was full of water, but the feather wheels, already somewhat drier, were slowly revolving. As they drew nearer the bus began to run ‘round in circles, spraying water in every direction.

  “I’ll stop it,” volunteered Snorer and, swooping down over the wheel, quickly pushed the button marked “Stop.” Then Notta and the Cowardly Lion, shoving with all their strength, turned the huge bus over on its side so the water could run out. After this they went back to the hut to fetch the clown’s disguises, and then they all sat down under a tree and waited for the bus to dry. Just beyond a little fringe of trees they could see the roofs of a small city, and Snorer, sensibly enough, proposed that they run the bus into the city and inquire of its inhabitants just where they were. “Though as far as I can make out,” finished Nick, “if we move toward Mudge all will be well, but if we take any other direction this beautiful person,” he pointed his claw at Notta, “will turn blue.”