Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  And now the Canary perched upon a stump, a little way from the forest beast, and said:

  “I am glad our friend has escaped you; but, as it is natural for a hungry beast to wish his breakfast, I will try to give you one.”

  “Thank you,” replied the Jaguar. “You’re rather small for a full meal, but it’s kind of you to sacrifice yourself to my appetite.”

  “Oh, I don’t intend to be eaten, I assure you,” said the Canary, “but as I am a fairy I know something of magic, and though I am now transformed into a bird’s shape, I am sure I can conjure up a breakfast that will satisfy you.”

  “If you can work magic, why don’t you break the enchantment you are under and return to your proper form?” inquired the beast doubtingly.

  “I haven’t the power to do that,” answered the Canary, “for Mrs. Yoop, the Giantess who transformed me, used a peculiar form of yookoohoo magic that is unknown to me. However, she could not deprive me of my own fairy knowledge, so I will try to get you a breakfast.”

  “Do you think a magic breakfast would taste good, or relieve the pangs of hunger I now suffer?” asked the Jaguar.

  “I am sure it would. What would you like to eat?”

  “Give me a couple of fat rabbits,” said the beast.

  “Rabbits! No, indeed. I’d not allow you to eat the dear little things,” declared Polychrome the Canary.

  “Well, three or four squirrels, then,” pleaded the Jaguar.

  “Do you think me so cruel?” demanded the Canary, indignantly. “The squirrels are my especial friends.”

  “How about a plump owl?” asked the beast. “Not a tin one, you know, but a real meat owl.”

  “Neither beast nor bird shall you have,” said Polychrome in a positive voice.

  “Give me a fish, then; there’s a river a little way off,” proposed the Jaguar.

  “No living thing shall be sacrificed to feed you,” returned the Canary.

  “Then what in the world do you expect me to eat?” said the Jaguar in a scornful tone.

  “How would mush-and-milk do?” asked the Canary.

  The Jaguar snarled in derision and lashed his tail against the ground angrily.

  “Give him some scrambled eggs on toast, Poly,” suggested the Bear Scarecrow. “He ought to like that.”

  “I will,” responded the Canary, and fluttering her wings she made a flight of three circles around the stump. Then she flew up to a tree and the Bear and the Owl and the Jaguar saw that upon the stump had appeared a great green leaf upon which was a large portion of scrambled eggs on toast, smoking hot.

  “There!” said the Bear; “eat your breakfast, friend Jaguar, and be content.”

  The Jaguar crept closer to the stump and sniffed the fragrance of the scrambled eggs. They smelled so good that he tasted them, and they tasted so good that he ate the strange meal in a hurry, proving he had been really hungry.

  “I prefer rabbits,” he muttered, licking his chops, “but I must admit the magic breakfast has filled my stomach full, and brought me comfort. So I’m much obliged for the kindness, little Fairy, and I’ll now leave you in peace.”

  Saying this, he plunged into the thick underbrush and soon disappeared, although they could hear his great body crashing through the bushes until he was far distant.

  “That was a good way to get rid of the savage beast, Poly,” said the Tin Woodman to the Canary; “but I’m surprised that you didn’t give our friend Woot a magic breakfast, when you knew he was hungry.”121

  “The reason for that,” answered Polychrome, “was that my mind was so intent on other things that I quite forgot my power to produce food by magic. But where is the monkey boy?”

  “Gone!” said the Scarecrow Bear, solemnly. “The earth has swallowed him up.”

  The Quarrelsome Dragons

  CHAPTER 9

  The Green Monkey sank gently into the earth for a little way and then tumbled swiftly through space, landing on a rocky floor with a thump that astonished him. Then he sat up, found that no bones were broken, and gazed around him.

  He seemed to be in a big underground cave, which was dimly lighted by dozens of big round discs that looked like moons. They were not moons, however, as Woot discovered when he had examined the place more carefully. They were eyes. The eyes were in the heads of enormous beasts whose bodies trailed far behind them. Each beast was bigger than an elephant, and three times as long, and there were a dozen or more of the creatures scattered here and there about the cavern. On their bodies were big scales, as round as pie-plates, which were beautifully tinted in shades of green, purple and orange. On the ends of their long tails were clusters of jewels. Around the great, moon-like eyes were circles of diamonds which sparkled in the subdued light that glowed from the eyes.

  Woot saw that the creatures had wide mouths and rows of terrible teeth and, from tales he had heard of such beings, he knew he had fallen into a cavern inhabited by the great Dragons that had been driven from the surface of the earth and were only allowed to come out once in a hundred years to search for food. Of course he had never seen Dragons before, yet there was no mistaking them, for they were unlike any other living creatures.

  Woot sat upon the floor where he had fallen, staring around, and the owners of the big eyes returned his look, silently and motionless. Finally one of the Dragons which was farthest away from him asked, in a deep, grave voice:

  “What was that?”

  And the greatest Dragon of all, who was just in front of the Green Monkey, answered in a still deeper voice:

  “It is some foolish animal from Outside.”

  “Is it good to eat?” inquired a smaller Dragon beside the great one. “I’m hungry.”

  “Hungry!” exclaimed all the Dragons, in a reproachful chorus; and then the great one said chidingly: “Tut-tut, my son! You’ve no reason to be hungry at this time.”

  “Why not?” asked the little Dragon. “I haven’t eaten anything in eleven years.”

  “Eleven years is nothing,” remarked another Dragon, sleepily opening and closing his eyes; “I haven’t feasted for eighty-seven years, and I dare not get hungry for a dozen or so years to come. Children who eat between meals should be broken of the habit.”

  “All I had, eleven years ago, was a rhinoceros, and that’s not a full meal at all,” grumbled the young one. “And, before that, I had waited sixty-two years to be fed; so it’s no wonder I’m hungry.”

  “How old are you now?” asked Woot, forgetting his own dangerous position in his interest in the conversation.

  “Why, I’m — I’m — How old am I, Father?” asked the little Dragon.

  “Goodness gracious! what a child to ask questions. Do you want to keep me thinking all the time? Don’t you know that thinking is very bad for Dragons?” returned the big one, impatiently.

  “How old am I, Father?” persisted the small Dragon.

  “About six hundred and thirty, I believe. Ask your mother.”

  “No; don’t!” said an old Dragon in the background; “haven’t I enough worries, what with being wakened in the middle of a nap, without being obliged to keep track of my children’s ages?”

  “You’ve been fast asleep for over sixty years, Mother,” said the child Dragon. “How long a nap do you wish?”

  “I should have slept forty years longer. And this strange little green beast should be punished for falling into our cavern and disturbing us.”126

  “I didn’t know you were here, and I didn’t know I was going to fall in,” explained Woot.

  “Nevertheless, here you are,” said the great Dragon, “and you have carelessly wakened our entire tribe; so it stands to reason you must be punished.”

  “In what way?” inquired the Green Monkey, trembling a little.

  “Give me time and I’ll think of a way. You’re in no hurry, are you?” asked the great Dragon.

  “No, indeed,” cried Woot. “Take your time. I’d much rather you’d all go to sleep again, and punish me whe
n you wake up in a hundred years or so.”

  “Let me eat him!” pleaded the littlest Dragon.

  “He is too small,” said the father. “To eat this one Green Monkey would only serve to make you hungry for more, and there are no more.”

  “Quit this chatter and let me get to sleep,” protested another Dragon, yawning in a fearful manner, for when he opened his mouth a sheet of flame leaped forth from it and made Woot jump back to get out of its way.

  In his jump he bumped against the nose of a Dragon behind him, which opened its mouth to growl and shot another sheet of flame at him. The flame was bright, but not very hot, yet Woot screamed with terror and sprang forward with a great bound. This time he landed on the paw of the great Chief Dragon, who angrily raised his other front paw and struck the Green Monkey a fierce blow. Woot went sailing through the air and fell sprawling upon the rocky floor far beyond the place where the Dragon Tribe was grouped.

  All the great beasts were now thoroughly wakened and aroused, and they blamed the monkey for disturbing their quiet. The littlest Dragon darted after Woot and the others turned their unwieldy bodies in his direction and followed, flashing from their eyes and mouths flames which lighted up the entire cavern.

  Woot almost gave himself up for lost, at that moment, but he scrambled to his feet and dashed away to the farthest end of the cave, the Dragons following more leisurely because they were too clumsy to move fast. Perhaps they thought there was no need of haste, as the monkey could not escape from the cave. But, away up at the end of the place, the cavern floor was heaped with tumbled rocks, so Woot, with an agility born of fear, climbed from rock to rock until he found himself crouched against the cavern roof. There he waited, for he could go no farther, while on over the tumbled rocks slowly crept the Dragons — the littlest one coming first because he was hungry as well as angry.

  The beasts had almost reached him when Woot, remembering his lace apron — now sadly torn and soiled — recovered his wits and shouted: “Open!” At the cry a hole appeared in the roof of the cavern, just over his head, and through it the sunlight streamed full upon the Green Monkey.

  The Dragons paused, astonished at the magic and blinking at the sunlight, and this gave Woot time to climb through the opening. As soon as he reached the surface of the earth the hole closed again, and the boy monkey realized, with a thrill of joy, that he had seen the last of the dangerous Dragon family.

  He sat upon the ground, still panting hard from his exertions, when the bushes before him parted and his former enemy, the Jaguar, appeared.

  “Don’t run,” said the woodland beast, as Woot sprang up; “you are perfectly safe, so far as I am concerned, for since you so mysteriously disappeared I have had my breakfast. I am now on my way home, to sleep the rest of the day.”

  “Oh, indeed!” returned the Green Monkey, in a tone both sorry and startled. “Which of my friends did you manage to eat?”130

  “None of them,” returned the Jaguar, with a sly grin. “I had a dish of magic scrambled eggs — on toast — and it wasn’t a bad feast, at all. There isn’t room in me for even you, and I don’t regret it because I judge, from your green color, that you are not ripe, and would make an indifferent meal. We jaguars have to be careful of our digestions. Farewell, Friend Monkey. Follow the path I made through the bushes and you will find your friends.”

  With this the Jaguar marched on his way and Woot took his advice and followed the trail he had made until he came to the place where the little Brown Bear, and the Tin Owl, and the Canary were conferring together and wondering what had become of their comrade, the Green Monkey.

  Tommy Kwikstep

  CHAPTER 10

  “Our best plan,” said the Scarecrow Bear, when the Green Monkey had related the story of his adventure with the Dragons, “is to get out of this Gillikin Country as soon as we can and try to find our way to the castle of Glinda, the Good Sorceress. There are too many dangers lurking here to suit me, and Glinda may be able to restore us to our proper forms.”

  “If we turn south now,” the Tin Owl replied, “we might go straight into the Emerald City. That’s a place I wish to avoid, for I’d hate to have my friends see me in this sad plight,” and he blinked his eyes and fluttered his tin wings mournfully.

  “But I am certain we have passed beyond Emerald City,” the Canary assured him, sailing lightly around their heads. “So, should we turn south from here, we would pass into the Munchkin Country, and continuing south we would reach the Quadling Country where Glinda’s castle is located.”

  “Well, since you’re sure of that, let’s start right away,” proposed the Bear. “It’s a long journey, at the best, and I’m getting tired of walking on four legs.”

  “I thought you never tired, being stuffed with straw,” said Woot.

  “I mean that it annoys me, to be obliged to go on all fours, when two legs are my proper walking equipment,” replied the Scarecrow. “I consider it beneath my dignity. In other words, my remarkable brains can tire, through humiliation, although my body cannot tire.”

  “That is one of the penalties of having brains,”133 remarked the Tin Owl with a sigh. “I have had no brains since I was a man of meat, and so I never worry. Nevertheless, I prefer my former manly form to this owl’s shape and would be glad to break Mrs. Yoop’s enchantment as soon as possible. I am so noisy, just now, that I disturb myself,” and he fluttered his wings with a clatter that echoed throughout the forest.

  So, being all of one mind, they turned southward, traveling steadily on until the woods were left behind and the landscape turned from purple tints to blue tints, which assured them they had entered the Country of the Munchkins.

  “Now I feel myself more safe,” said the Scarecrow Bear. “I know this country pretty well, having been made here by a Munchkin farmer and having wandered over these lovely blue lands many times. Seems to me, indeed, that I even remember that group of three tall trees ahead of us; and, if I do, we are not far from the home of my friend Jinjur.”

  “Who is Jinjur?” asked Woot, the Green Monkey.

  “Haven’t you heard of Jinjur?” exclaimed the Scarecrow, in surprise.

  “No,” said Woot. “Is Jinjur a man, a woman, a beast or a bird?”134

  “Jinjur is a girl,” explained the Scarecrow Bear. “She’s a fine girl, too, although a bit restless and liable to get excited. Once, a long time ago, she raised an army of girls and called herself ‘General Jinjur.’ With her army she captured the Emerald City, and drove me out of it, because I insisted that an army in Oz was highly improper. But Ozma punished the rash girl, and afterward Jinjur and I became fast friends. Now Jinjur lives peacefully on a farm, near here, and raises fields of cream-puffs, chocolate-caramels and macaroons. They say she’s a pretty good farmer, and in addition to that she’s an artist, and paints pictures so perfect that one can scarcely tell them from nature. She often repaints my face for me, when it gets worn or mussy, and the lovely expression I wore when the Giantess transformed me was painted by Jinjur only a month or so ago.”

  “It was certainly a pleasant expression,” agreed Woot.

  “Jinjur can paint anything,” continued the Scarecrow Bear, with enthusiasm, as they walked along together. “Once, when I came to her house, my straw was old and crumpled, so that my body sagged dreadfully. I needed new straw to replace the old, but Jinjur had no straw on all her ranch and I was really unable to travel farther until I had been restuffed. When I explained this to Jinjur, the girl at once painted a straw-stack which was so natural that I went to it and secured enough straw to fill all my body. It was a good quality of straw, too, and lasted me a long time.”

  This seemed very wonderful to Woot, who knew that such a thing could never happen in any place but a fairy country like Oz.

  The Munchkin Country was much nicer than the Gillikin Country, and all the fields were separated by blue fences, with grassy lanes and paths of blue ground, and the land seemed well cultivated. They were on a little hill looking
down upon this favored country, but had not quite reached the settled parts, when on turning a bend in the path they were halted by a form that barred their way.

  A more curious creature they had seldom seen, even in the Land of Oz, where curious creatures abound. It had the head of a young man — evidently a Munchkin — with a pleasant face and hair neatly combed. But the body was very long, for it had twenty legs — ten legs on each side — and this caused the body to stretch out and lie in a horizontal position, so that all the legs could touch the ground and stand firm. From the shoulders extended two small arms; at least, they seemed small beside so many legs.

  This odd creature was dressed in the regulation clothing of the Munchkin people, a dark blue coat neatly fitting the long body and each pair of legs having a pair of sky-blue trousers, with blue-tinted stockings and blue leather shoes turned up at the pointed toes.

  “I wonder who you are?” said Polychrome the Canary, fluttering above the strange creature, who had probably been asleep on the path.

  “I sometimes wonder, myself, who I am,” replied the many-legged young man; “but, in reality, I am Tommy Kwikstep, and I live in a hollow tree that fell to the ground with age. I have polished the inside of it, and made a door at each end, and that’s a very comfortable residence for me because it just fits my shape.”

  “How did you happen to have such a shape?” asked the Scarecrow Bear, sitting on his haunches and regarding Tommy Kwikstep with a serious look. “Is the shape natural?”137

  “No; it was wished on me,” replied Tommy, with a sigh. “I used to be very active and loved to run errands for anyone who needed my services. That was how I got my name of Tommy Kwikstep. I could run an errand more quickly than any other boy, and so I was very proud of myself. One day, however, I met an old lady who was a fairy, or a witch, or something of the sort, and she said if I would run an errand for her — to carry some magic medicine to another old woman — she would grant me just one Wish, whatever the Wish happened to be. Of course I consented and, taking the medicine, I hurried away. It was a long distance, mostly up hill, and my legs began to grow weary. Without thinking what I was doing I said aloud: ‘Dear me; I wish I had twenty legs!’ and in an instant I became the unusual creature you see beside you. Twenty legs! Twenty on one man! You may count them, if you doubt my word.”