“Was Chew Chew there?” The Scarecrow couldn’t help wondering how the old Nobleman had taken his marriage with a poor fisherman’s daughter.
Happy chuckled at the memory. “He had a Princess all picked out for you,” he confided merrily:
“And there he stood in awful pride
And scorned the father of the bride!”
“Hoh!” roared the Scarecrow, falling off the bench. “That’s the Ozziest thing I’ve heard since I landed in the Silver Islands. Tappy, my boy, I believe we are going to be friends! But let’s forget the past and think of the present!”
The Scarecrow embraced his Imperial Punster on the spot. “Let’s find something jolly to do,” he suggested.
“Would your Extreme Highness care for kites?” asked Happy. “’Tis a favorite sport here!”
“Would I! But wait, I will disguise myself.” Hiding his royal hat under the bench, he put on Happy Toko’s broad-rimmed peasant hat. It turned down all ’round and almost hid his face. Then he turned his robe inside out and declared himself ready.
They passed through a small silver town before they reached the field where the kites were to be flown, and the Scarecrow was delighted with its picturesque and quaint appearance. The streets were narrow and full of queer shops. Silver lanterns and little pennants hung from each door, the merchants and maidens in their gay sedans and the people afoot made a bright and lively picture.
“If I could just live here instead of in the palace,” mused the Scarecrow, pausing before a modest rice shop. It is dangerous to stop in the narrow streets, and Happy jerked his master aside just in time to prevent his being trodden on by a huge camel. It sniffed at the Scarecrow suspiciously, and they were forced to flatten themselves against a wall to let it pass. Happy anxiously hurried the Emperor through the town, and they soon arrived at the kite flying field. A great throng had gathered to watch the exhibition, and there were more kites than one would see in a lifetime here. Huge fish, silver paper dragons, birds—every sort and shape of kite was tugging at its string, and hundreds of Silver Islanders—boys, girls and grown-ups—were looking on.
“How interesting,” said the Scarecrow, fascinated by a huge dragon that floated just over his head. “I wish Dorothy could see this, I do indeed!”
But the dragon kite seemed almost alive, and horrors! Just as it swooped down, a hook in the tail caught in the Scarecrow’s collar, and before Happy Toko could even wink, the Emperor of the Silver Islands was sailing towards the clouds. The Scarecrow, as you must know, weighs almost nothing, and the people shouted with glee, for they thought him a dummy man and part of the performance. But Happy Toko ran after the kite as fast as his fat little legs would carry him.
“Alas, alas, I shall lose my position!” wailed Happy Toko, quite convinced that the Scarecrow would be dashed to pieces on the rocks. “Oh, putty head that I am to set myself against the Grand Chew Chew!”
The Scarecrow, however, after recovering from the first shock, began to enjoy himself. Holding fast to the dragon’s tail, he looked down with great interest upon his dominions. Rocks, mountains, tall silver pagodas, drooping willow trees, flashed beneath him. Truly a beautiful island! His gaze strayed over the silver waters surrounding the island, and he was astonished to see a great fleet sailing into the harbor—a great fleet of singular vessels with silken sails.
“What’s this?” thought the Scarecrow. But just then the dragon kite became suddenly possessed. It jerked him up, it jerked him down, and shook him this way and that. His hat flew off, his arms and legs whirled wildly, and pieces of straw began to float downward. Then the hook ripped and tore through his coat and, making a terrible slit in his back, came out. Down, down, down flashed the Scarecrow and landed in a heap on the rocks. Poor Happy Toko rushed toward him with streaming eyes.
“Oh radiant and immortal Scarecrowcus, what have they done to you?” he moaned, dropping on his knees beside the flimsy shape of the Emperor.
“Merely knocked out my honorable stuffing,” mumbled the Scarecrow. “Now Tappy, my dear fellow, will you just turn me over? There’s a rock in my eye that keeps me from thinking.”
Happy Toko, at the sound of a voice from the rumpled heap of clothing, gave a great leap.
“Is there any straw about?” asked the Scarecrow anxiously. “Why don’t you turn me over?”
“It’s his ghost,” moaned Happy Toko, and because he dared not disobey a royal ghost, he turned the Scarecrow over with trembling hands.
“Don’t be alarmed,” said the Scarecrow, smiling reassuringly. “I’m not breakable like you meat people. A little straw will make me good as new. A little straw—straw, do you hear?” For Happy’s pigtail was still on end, and he was shaking so that his silver shoes clattered on the rocks.
“I command you to fetch straw!” cried the Scarecrow at last, in an angry voice. Happy dashed away.
When he returned with an arm full of straw, the Scarecrow managed to convince him that he was quite alive. “It is impossible to kill a person from Oz,” he explained proudly, “and that is why my present figure is so much more satisfactory than yours. I do not have to eat or sleep and can always be repaired. Have you some safety pins?” Happy produced several and under the Scarecrow’s direction stuffed out his chest and pinned up his rents.
“Let us return,” said the Scarecrow. “I’ve had enough pleasure for one day, and can’t you sing something, Tappy?” Running and fright had somewhat affected Happy’s voice, but he squeaked out a funny little song, and the two, keeping time to the tune, came without further mishap to the Imperial gardens. Happy had just set the royal hat upon the Scarecrow’s head and brushed off his robes when a company of courtiers dashed out of the palace door and came running toward them.
“Great Cornstarch!” exclaimed the Scarecrow, sitting heavily down on the silver bench. “What’s the matter now? Here are all the Pig-heads on the Island, and look how old Chew Chew is puffing!”
“One would expect a Chew Chew to puff,” observed Happy slyly. “One would—” But he got no further, for the whole company was upon them.
“Save us! Save us!” wailed the courtiers, forgetting the royal edict and falling on their faces.
“What from?” asked the Scarecrow, holding fast to the silver bench.
“The King—the King of the Golden Islands!” shrieked the Grand Chew Chew.
“Ah yes!” murmured the Scarecrow, frowning thoughtfully. “Was that his fleet coming into the harbor?”
The Grand Chew Chew jumped up in astonishment. “How could your Highness see the fleet from here?” he stuttered.
“Not from here—there,” said the Scarecrow, pointing upward and winking at Happy Toko. “My Highness goes very high, you see!”
“Your Majesty does not seem to realize the seriousness of the matter,” choked the Grand Chew Chew. “He will set fire to the island and make us all slaves.” At this, the courtiers began banging their heads distractedly on the grass.
“Set fire to the island!” exclaimed the Scarecrow, jumping to his feet. “Then peace to my ashes! Tappy, will you see that they are sent back to Oz?”
“Save us! Save us!” screamed the frightened Silvermen.
“The prophecy of the beanstalk has promised that you would save us. You are the Emperor Chang Wang Woe,” persisted the Grand Chew Chew, waving his long arms.
“Woe is me,” murmured the Scarecrow, clasping his yellow gloves. “But let me think.”
Chapter 9
“SAVE US with YOUR MAGIC, EXALTED ONE!”
or several minutes, the Scarecrow sat perfectly still while the company stood shaking in their shoes. Then he asked loudly, “Where is the Imperial Army?”
“It has retired to the caves at the end of the Island,” quavered the Grand Chew Chew.
“I thought as much,” said the Scarecrow. “But never mind, there are quite a lot of us.”
“Us!” spluttered a tall Silverman indignantly. “We are not common soldiers.”
“No, very uncommon ones, but you have hard heads and long nails, and I dare say will manage somehow. Come on, let’s go. Chew, you may take the lead.”
“Go!” shrieked the Grand Chew Chew. “Us?” The courtiers began backing away in alarm. “Where—er—what—are your Highness’ plans?”
“Why, just to conquer the King of the Golden Islands and send him back home,” said the Scarecrow, smiling engagingly. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“But it is not honorable for noblemen to fight. It—”
“Oh, of course, if you prefer burning—” The Scarecrow rose unsteadily and started for the garden gates. Not a person stirred. The Scarecrow looked back, and his reproachful face was too much for Happy Toko.
“I’ll come, exalted and radiant Scarecrowcus! Wait, honorable and valiant Sir!”
“Bring a watering can, if you love me,” called the Scarecrow over his shoulder, and Happy, snatching one from a frightened gardener, dashed after his Master.
“If things get too hot, I’d like to know that you can put me out,” said the Scarecrow, his voice quivering with emotion. “You shall be rewarded for this, my brave Tappy.”
Happy did not answer, for his teeth were chattering so he could not speak.
The harbor lay just below the Imperial Palace, and the Scarecrow and Happy hurried on through the crowds of fleeing Silvermen, their household goods packed upon their heads. Some cheered faintly for Chang Wang Woe, but none offered to follow, save the faithful Happy.
“Is this king old?” asked the Scarecrow, looking anxiously at the small boats full of warriors that were putting out from the fleet.
“He is the son of the King whom your Majesty conquered fifty years ago,” gulped Happy. “Ha—has your Imperial Highness any—plan?”
“Not yet,” said the Scarecrow cheerfully, “but I’m thinking very hard.”
“Then, good-bye to Silver Islands!” choked Happy Toko, dropping the watering can with a crash.
“Never mind,” said the Scarecrow kindly. “If they shoot me and I catch fire, I’ll jump in the water and you must fish me out, Tappy. Now please don’t talk any more. I must think!”
Poor Happy Toko had nothing else to say, for he considered his day finished. The first of the invaders were already landing on the beach, and standing up in a small boat, encased in glittering gold armor, was the King of the Golden Islands, himself. The sun was quite hot, and there was a smell of gunpowder in the air.
Now the Scarecrow had encountered many dangers in Oz and had usually thought his way out of them, but as they came nearer and nearer to the shore and no idea presented itself, he began to feel extremely nervous. A bullet fired from the king’s boat tore through his hat, and the smoke made him more anxious than ever about his straw stuffing. He felt hurriedly in his pocket, and his clumsy fingers closed over the little fan he had plucked from the bean pole.
Partly from agitation and partly because he did not know what else to do, the Scarecrow flipped the fan open. At that minute, a mighty roar went up from the enemy, for at the first motion of the fan they had been jerked fifty feet into the air, and there they hung suspended over their ships, kicking and squealing for dear life. The Scarecrow was as surprised as they, and as for Happy Toko, he fell straightway on his nose!
“Magic!” exclaimed the Scarecrow. “Someone is helping us,” and he began fanning himself gently with the little fan, waiting to see what would happen next. At each wave of the fan, the King of the Golden Islands and his men flew higher until at last not one of them could be seen from the shore.
“The fan. The magic is in the fan!” gasped Happy Toko, jumping up and embracing the Scarecrow.
“Why, what do you mean?” asked the Scarecrow, closing the fan with a snap. Happy’s answer was drowned in a huge splash. As soon as the fan was closed, down whirled the king’s army into the sea, and each man struck the water with such force that the spray rose high as a skyscraper. And not till then did the Scarecrow realize the power of the little fan he had been saving for Dorothy.
“Saved!” screamed Happy Toko, dancing up and down. “Hurrah for the Emperor!”
“The Emperor, without a plan,
Has won the victory with a fan.”
The Silver Islanders had paused in their flight at the queer noises coming from the harbor, and now all of them, hearing Happy Toko’s cries, came crowding down to the shore and were soon cheering themselves hoarse. No wonder! The drenched soldiers of the king were climbing swiftly back into their boats, and when they were all aboard, the Scarecrow waved his fan sidewise (he did not want to blow them up again), and the ships swept out of the harbor so fast that the water churned to silver suds behind them, and they soon were out of sight.
“Ah!” cried the Grand Chew Chew, arriving breathlessly at this point, “We have won the day!”
“So we have!” chuckled the Scarecrow, putting his arm around Happy Toko. “Call the brave army and decorate the generals!”
“It shall be done,” said the Grand Chew Chew, frowning at Happy. “There shall be a great celebration, a feast, and fireworks.”
“Fireworks,” quavered the Scarecrow, clutching his Imperial Punster. By this time, the Silver Islanders were crowding around the Emperor, shouting and squealing for joy, and before he could prevent it, they had placed him on their shoulders and carried him in triumph to the palace. He managed to signal Happy, and Happy nodded reassuringly and ran off as fast as his fat little legs could patter. He arrived at the palace almost as soon as the Scarecrow, lugging a giant silver watering can, and, sitting calmly on the steps of the throne, fanned himself with his hat. The Scarecrow eyed the watering can with satisfaction.
“Now let them have their old fireworks,” he muttered under his breath, and settled himself comfortably. The Grand Chew Chew was hopping about like a ditched kite, arranging for the celebration. The courtiers were shaking hands with themselves and forming in a long line. A great table was being set in the hall.
“What a fuss they are making over nothing,” said the Scarecrow to Happy Toko. “Now in Oz when we win a victory, we all play some jolly game and sit down to dinner with Ozma. Why, they haven’t even set a place for you, Happy!”
“I’d rather sit here, amiable Master,” sighed Happy Toko happily. “Is the little fan safely closed?”
The Scarecrow felt in his pocket to make sure, then leaned forward in surprise. The Royal Silver Army were marching stiffly into the hall, and the courtiers were bobbing and bowing and cheering like mad.
The General came straight to the great silver throne, clicked his silver heels, bowed, and stood at attention.
“Well,” said the Scarecrow, surveying this splendid person curiously, “what is it?”
“They have come for their decorations,” announced the Grand Chew Chew, stepping up with a large silver platter full of medals.
“But I thought Tappy Oko and I saved the Island,” chuckled the Scarecrow, nudging the Imperial Punster.
“Had the Imperial Army not retired and left the field to you, there would have been no victory,” faltered the General in a timid voice. “Therefore, in a way we are responsible for the victory. A great general always knows when to retire.”
“There’s something in that,” admitted the Scarecrow, scratching his head thoughtfully. “Go ahead and decorate ’em, Chew Chew!”
This the Grand Chew Chew proceeded to do, making such a long speech to each soldier that half of the Court fell asleep and the Scarecrow fidgeted uncomfortably.
“They remind me of the Army of Oz,” he confided to Happy Toko, “but we never have long speeches in Oz. I declare, I wish I could go to sleep, too, and that’s something I have never seen any use in before.”
“They’ve just begun,” yawned Happy Toko, nearly rolling down the steps of the throne, and Happy was not far wrong, for all afternoon one after the other of the courtiers arose and droned about the great victory, and as they all addressed themselves to the Scarecrow, he was f
orced to listen politely. When the speeches were over, there was still the grand banquet to be got through, and as the Silver Islanders ate much the same fare as their Chinese cousins, you can imagine the poor Scarecrow’s feelings.
“Ugh!” shivered the Scarecrow as the strange dishes appeared, “I’m glad none of my friends are here. How fortunate that I’m stuffed with straw!” The broiled mice, the stewed shark fins and the bird nest soup made him stare. He had ordered Happy Toko to be placed at his side, and to watch him happily at work with his silver chopsticks and porcelain spoon was the only satisfaction he got out of the feast.
“And what is that?” he asked, pointing to a steaming bowl that had just been placed before Happy.
“Minced cat, your Highness,” replied Happy, sprinkling it generously with silver polish.
“Cat?” shrieked the Scarecrow, pouncing to his feet in horror. “Do you mean to tell me you are eating a poor, innocent, little cat?”
“Not a poor one at all. A very rich one, I should say,” replied Happy Toko with his mouth full. “Ah, had your Highness only your old body, how you would enjoy this!”
“Never!” shouted the Scarecrow so loudly that all of the courtiers looked up in surprise. “How dare you eat innocent cats?” Indignantly he thought of Dorothy’s pet kitten back in Oz. Oz—why had he ever left that wonderful country?
“Your Highness has eaten hundreds,” announced the Grand Chew Chew calmly. “Hundreds!”
The Scarecrow dropped back into his chair, too shocked for speech. He, the Scarecrow of Oz, had eaten hundreds of cats! What would Dorothy say to that? Ugh! This was his first experience with Silver Islands fare. He had always spent the dinner hours in the garden. He sighed, and looked wistfully at the bean pole in the center of the hall. Every minute he was feeling less and less like the Emperor of the Silver Islands and more and more like the plain Scarecrow of Oz.
“Your Majesty seems out of spirits,” said Happy Toko as he placed himself and the huge watering can beside the Emperor’s bench in the garden later in the evening.
Oz, The Complete Collection Page 197