Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “Perhaps you are right,” returned the King, with a dismal sigh. “But I want it distinctly understood that I claim Ozma and Dorothy as my own prisoners. They are rather nice girls, and I do not intend to let any of those dreadful creatures hurt them, or make them their slaves. When I have captured them I will bring them here and transform them into china ornaments to stand on my mantle. They will look very pretty--Dorothy on one end of the mantle and Ozma on the other--and I shall take great care to see they are not broken when the maids dust them.”

  “Very well, your Majesty. Do what you will with the girls for all I care. Now that our plans are arranged, and we have the three most powerful bands of evil spirits in the world to assist us, let us make haste to get the tunnel finished as soon as possible.”

  “It will be ready in three days,” promised the King, and hurried away to inspect the work and see that the Nomes kept busy.

  14. How the Wizard Practiced Sorcery

  “Where next?” asked the Wizard when they had left the town of Fuddlecumjig and the Sawhorse had started back along the road.

  “Why, Ozma laid out this trip,” replied Dorothy, “and she ‘vised us to see the Rigmaroles next, and then visit the Tin Woodman.”

  “That sounds good,” said the Wizard. “But what road do we take to get to the Rigmaroles?”

  “I don’t know, ‘zactly,” returned the little girl; “but it must be somewhere just southwest from here.”

  “Then why need we go way back to the crossroads?” asked the Shaggy Man. “We might save a lot of time by branching off here.”

  “There isn’t any path,” asserted Uncle Henry.

  “Then we’d better go back to the signposts, and make sure of our way,” decided Dorothy.

  But after they had gone a short distance farther the Sawhorse, who had overheard their conversation, stopped and said:

  “Here is a path.”

  Sure enough, a dim path seemed to branch off from the road they were on, and it led across pretty green meadows and past leafy groves, straight toward the southwest.

  “That looks like a good path,” said Omby Amby. “Why not try it?”

  “All right,” answered Dorothy. “I’m anxious to see what the Rigmaroles are like, and this path ought to take us there the quickest way.”

  No one made any objection to this plan, so the Sawhorse turned into the path, which proved to be nearly as good as the one they had taken to get to the Fuddles. As first they passed a few retired farm houses, but soon these scattered dwellings were left behind and only the meadows and the trees were before them. But they rode along in cheerful contentment, and Aunt Em got into an argument with Billina about the proper way to raise chickens.

  “I do not care to contradict you,” said the Yellow Hen, with dignity, “but I have an idea I know more about chickens than human beings do.”

  “Pshaw!” replied Aunt Em. “I’ve raised chickens for nearly forty years, Billina, and I know you’ve got to starve ‘em to make ‘em lay lots of eggs, and stuff ‘em if you want good broilers.”

  “Broilers!” exclaimed Billina, in horror. “Broil my chickens!”

  “Why, that’s what they’re for, ain’t it?” asked Aunt Em, astonished.

  “No, Aunt, not in Oz,” said Dorothy. “People do not eat chickens here. You see, Billina was the first hen that was ever seen in this country, and I brought her here myself. Everybody liked her an’ respected her, so the Oz people wouldn’t any more eat her chickens than they would eat Billina.”

  “Well, I declare,” gasped Aunt Em. “How about the eggs?”

  “Oh, if we have more eggs than we want to hatch, we allow people to eat them,” said Billina. “Indeed, I am very glad the Oz folks like our eggs, for otherwise they would spoil.”

  “This certainly is a queer country,” sighed Aunt Em.

  “Excuse me,” called the Sawhorse, “the path has ended and I’d like to know which way to go.”

  They looked around and sure enough there was no path to be seen.

  “Well,” said Dorothy, “we’re going southwest, and it seems just as easy to follow that direction without a path as with one.”

  “Certainly,” answered the Sawhorse. “It is not hard to draw the wagon over the meadow. I only want to know where to go.”

  “There’s a forest over there across the prairie,” said the Wizard, “and it lies in the direction we are going. Make straight for the forest, Sawhorse, and you’re bound to go right.”

  So the wooden animal trotted on again and the meadow grass was so soft under the wheels that it made easy riding. But Dorothy was a little uneasy at losing the path, because now there was nothing to guide them.

  No houses were to be seen at all, so they could not ask their way of any farmer; and although the Land of Oz was always beautiful, wherever one might go, this part of the country was strange to all the party.

  “Perhaps we’re lost,” suggested Aunt Em, after they had proceeded quite a way in silence.

  “Never mind,” said the Shaggy Man; “I’ve been lost many a time--and so has Dorothy--and we’ve always been found again.”

  “But we may get hungry,” remarked Omby Amby. “That is the worst of getting lost in a place where there are no houses near.”

  “We had a good dinner at the Fuddle town,” said Uncle Henry, “and that will keep us from starving to death for a long time.”

  “No one ever starved to death in Oz,” declared Dorothy, positively; “but people may get pretty hungry sometimes.”

  The Wizard said nothing, and he did not seem especially anxious. The Sawhorse was trotting along briskly, yet the forest seemed farther away than they had thought when they first saw it. So it was nearly sundown when they finally came to the trees; but now they found themselves in a most beautiful spot, the wide-spreading trees being covered with flowering vines and having soft mosses underneath them. “This will be a good place to camp,” said the Wizard, as the Sawhorse stopped for further instructions.

  “Camp!” they all echoed.

  “Certainly,” asserted the Wizard. “It will be dark before very long and we cannot travel through this forest at night. So let us make a camp here, and have some supper, and sleep until daylight comes again.”

  They all looked at the little man in astonishment, and Aunt Em said, with a sniff:

  “A pretty camp we’ll have, I must say! I suppose you intend us to sleep under the wagon.”

  “And chew grass for our supper,” added the Shaggy Man, laughing.

  But Dorothy seemed to have no doubts and was quite cheerful

  “It’s lucky we have the wonderful Wizard with us,” she said; “because he can do ‘most anything he wants to.”

  “Oh, yes; I forgot we had a Wizard,” said Uncle Henry, looking at the little man curiously.

  “I didn’t,” chirped Billina, contentedly.

  The Wizard smiled and climbed out of the wagon, and all the others followed him.

  “In order to camp,” said he, “the first thing we need is tents. Will some one please lend me a handkerchief?”

  The Shaggy Man offered him one, and Aunt Em another. He took them both and laid them carefully upon the grass near to the edge of the forest. Then he laid his own handkerchief down, too, and standing a little back from them he waved his left hand toward the handkerchiefs and said:

  “Tents of canvas, white as snow,

  Let me see how fast you grow!”

  Then, lo and behold! the handkerchiefs became tiny tents, and as the travelers looked at them the tents grew bigger and bigger until in a few minutes each one was large enough to contain the entire party.

  “This,” said the Wizard, pointing to the first tent, “is for the accommodation of the ladies. Dorothy, you and your Aunt may step inside and take off your things.”

  Every one ran to look inside the tent, and they saw two pretty white beds, all ready for Dorothy and Aunt Em, and a silver roost for Billina. Rugs were spread upon the grassy floor and some ca
mp chairs and a table completed the furniture.

  “Well, well, well! This beats anything I ever saw or heard of!” exclaimed Aunt Em, and she glanced at the Wizard almost fearfully, as if he might be dangerous because of his great powers.

  “Oh, Mr. Wizard! How did you manage to do it?” asked Dorothy.

  “It’s a trick Glinda the Sorceress taught me, and it is much better magic than I used to practice in Omaha, or when I first came to Oz,” he answered. “When the good Glinda found I was to live in the Emerald City always, she promised to help me, because she said the Wizard of Oz ought really to be a clever Wizard, and not a humbug. So we have been much together and I am learning so fast that I expect to be able to accomplish some really wonderful things in time.”

  “You’ve done it now!” declared Dorothy. “These tents are just wonderful!”

  “But come and see the men’s tent,” said the Wizard. So they went to the second tent, which had shaggy edges because it has been made from the Shaggy Man’s handkerchief, and found that completely furnished also. It contained four neat beds for Uncle Henry, Omby Amby, the Shaggy Man and the Wizard. Also there was a soft rug for Toto to lie upon.

  “The third tent,” explained the Wizard, “is our dining room and kitchen.”

  They visited that next, and found a table and dishes in the dining tent, with plenty of those things necessary to use in cooking. The Wizard carried out a big kettle and set it swinging on a crossbar before the tent. While he was doing this Omby Amby and the Shaggy Man brought a supply of twigs from the forest and then they built a fire underneath the kettle.

  “Now, Dorothy,” said the Wizard, smiling, “I expect you to cook our supper.”

  “But there is nothing in the kettle,” she cried.

  “Are you sure?” inquired the Wizard.

  “I didn’t see anything put in, and I’m almost sure it was empty when you brought it out,” she replied.

  “Nevertheless,” said the little man, winking slyly at Uncle Henry, “you will do well to watch our supper, my dear, and see that it doesn’t boil over.”

  Then the men took some pails and went into the forest to search for a spring of water, and while they were gone Aunt Em said to Dorothy:

  “I believe the Wizard is fooling us. I saw the kettle myself, and when he hung it over the fire there wasn’t a thing in it but air.”

  “Don’t worry,” remarked Billina, confidently, as she nestled in the grass before the fire. “You’ll find something in the kettle when it’s taken off--and it won’t be poor, innocent chickens, either.”

  “Your hen has very bad manners, Dorothy,” said Aunt Em, looking somewhat disdainfully at Billina. “It seems too bad she ever learned how to talk.”

  There might have been another unpleasant quarrel between Aunt Em and Billina had not the men returned just then with their pails filled with clear, sparkling water. The Wizard told Dorothy that she was a good cook and he believed their supper was ready.

  So Uncle Henry lifted the kettle from the fire and poured its contents into a big platter which the Wizard held for him. The platter was fairly heaped with a fine stew, smoking hot, with many kinds of vegetables and dumplings and a rich, delicious gravy.

  The Wizard triumphantly placed the platter upon the table in the dining tent and then they all sat down in camp chairs to the feast.

  There were several other dishes on the table, all carefully covered, and when the time came to remove these covers they found bread and butter, cakes, cheese, pickles and fruits--including some of the luscious strawberries of Oz.

  No one ventured to ask a question as to how these things came there. They contented themselves by eating heartily the good things provided, and Toto and Billina had their full share, you may be sure. After the meal was over, Aunt Em whispered to Dorothy:

  “That may have been magic food, my dear, and for that reason perhaps it won’t be very nourishing; but I’m willing to say it tasted as good as anything I ever et.” Then she added, in a louder voice: “Who’s going to do the dishes?”

  “No one, madam,” answered the Wizard. “The dishes have ‘done’ themselves.”

  “La sakes!” ejaculated the good lady, holding up her hands in amazement. For, sure enough, when she looked at the dishes they had a moment before left upon the table, she found them all washed and dried and piled up into neat stacks.

  15. How Dorothy Happened to Get Lost

  It was a beautiful evening, so they drew their camp chairs in a circle before one of the tents and began to tell stories to amuse themselves and pass away the time before they went to bed.

  Pretty soon a zebra was seen coming out of the forest, and he trotted straight up to them and said politely:

  “Good evening, people.”

  The zebra was a sleek little animal and had a slender head, a stubby mane and a paint-brush tail--very like a donkey’s. His neatly shaped white body was covered with regular bars of dark brown, and his hoofs were delicate as those of a deer.

  “Good evening, friend Zebra,” said Omby Amby, in reply to the creature’s greeting. “Can we do anything for you?”

  “Yes,” answered the zebra. “I should like you to settle a dispute that has long been a bother to me, as to whether there is more water or land in the world.”

  “Who are you disputing with?” asked the Wizard.

  “With a soft-shell crab,” said the zebra. “He lives in a pool where I go to drink every day, and he is a very impertinent crab, I assure you. I have told him many times that the land is much greater in extent than the water, but he will not be convinced. Even this very evening, when I told him he was an insignificant creature who lived in a small pool, he asserted that the water was greater and more important than the land. So, seeing your camp, I decided to ask you to settle the dispute for once and all, that I may not be further annoyed by this ignorant crab.”

  When they had listened to this explanation Dorothy inquired:

  “Where is the soft-shell crab?”

  “Not far away,” replied the zebra. “If you will agree to judge between us I will run and get him.”

  “Run along, then,” said the little girl.

  So the animal pranced into the forest and soon came trotting back to them. When he drew near they found a soft-shell crab clinging fast to the stiff hair of the zebra’s head, where it held on by one claw.

  “Now then, Mr. Crab,” said the zebra, “here are the people I told you about; and they know more than you do, who lives in a pool, and more than I do, who lives in a forest. For they have been travelers all over the world, and know every part of it.”

  “There is more of the world than Oz,” declared the crab, in a stubborn voice.

  “That is true,” said Dorothy; “but I used to live in Kansas, in the United States, and I’ve been to California and to Australia and so has Uncle Henry.”

  “For my part,” added the Shaggy Man, “I’ve been to Mexico and Boston and many other foreign countries.”

  “And I,” said the Wizard, “have been to Europe and Ireland.”

  “So you see,” continued the zebra, addressing the crab, “here are people of real consequence, who know what they are talking about.”

  “Then they know there’s more water in the world than there is land,” asserted the crab, in a shrill, petulant voice.

  “They know you are wrong to make such an absurd statement, and they will probably think you are a lobster instead of a crab,” retorted the animal.

  At this taunt the crab reached out its other claw and seized the zebra’s ear, and the creature gave a cry of pain and began prancing up and down, trying to shake off the crab, which clung fast.

  “Stop pinching!” cried the zebra. “You promised not to pinch if I would carry you here!”

  “And you promised to treat me respectfully,” said the crab, letting go the ear.

  “Well, haven’t I?” demanded the zebra.

  “No; you called me a lobster,” said the crab.

  �
��Ladies and gentlemen,” continued the zebra, “please pardon my poor friend, because he is ignorant and stupid, and does not understand. Also the pinch of his claw is very annoying. So pray tell him that the world contains more land than water, and when he has heard your judgment I will carry him back and dump him into his pool, where I hope he will be more modest in the future.”

  “But we cannot tell him that,” said Dorothy, gravely, “because it would not be true.”

  “What!” exclaimed the zebra, in astonishment; “do I hear you aright?”

  “The soft-shell crab is correct,” declared the Wizard. “There is considerably more water than there is land in the world.”

  “Impossible!” protested the zebra. “Why, I can run for days upon the land, and find but little water.”

  “Did you ever see an ocean?” asked Dorothy.

  “Never,” admitted the zebra. “There is no such thing as an ocean in the Land of Oz.”

  “Well, there are several oceans in the world,” said Dorothy, “and people sail in ships upon these oceans for weeks and weeks, and never see a bit of land at all. And the joggerfys will tell you that all the oceans put together are bigger than all the land put together.”

  At this the crab began laughing in queer chuckles that reminded Dorothy of the way Billina sometimes cackled.

  “NOW will you give up, Mr. Zebra?” it cried, jeeringly; “now will you give up?”

  The zebra seemed much humbled.

  “Of course I cannot read geographys,” he said.

  “You could take one of the Wizard’s School Pills,” suggested Billina, “and that would make you learned and wise without studying.”

  The crab began laughing again, which so provoked the zebra that he tried to shake the little creature off. This resulted in more ear-pinching, and finally Dorothy told them that if they could not behave they must go back to the forest.

  “I’m sorry I asked you to decide this question,” said the zebra, crossly. “So long as neither of us could prove we were right we quite enjoyed the dispute; but now I can never drink at that pool again without the soft-shell crab laughing at me. So I must find another drinking place.”