“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.”
“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 when 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?”
“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.
Chapter Ten.Tommy Kwikstep
“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,” 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?”
“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?”
“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.”
“You’ve got ‘em, all right,” said Woot the Monkey, who had already counted them.
“After I had delivered the magic medicine to the old woman, I returned and tried to find the witch, or fairy, or whatever she was, who had given me the unlucky wish, so she could take it away again. I’ve been searching for her ever since, but never can I find her,” continued poor Tommy Kwikstep, sadly.
“I suppose,” said the Tin Owl, blinking at him, “you can travel very fast, with those twenty legs.”
“At first I was able to,” was the reply; “but I traveled so much, searching for the fairy, or witch, or whatever she was, that I soon got corns on my toes. Now, a corn on one toe is not so bad, but when you have a hundred toes—as I have—and get corns on most of them, it is far from pleasant. Instead of running, I now painfully crawl, and although I try not to be discouraged I do hope I shall find that witch or fairy, or whatever she was, before long.”
“I hope so, too,” said the Scarecrow. “But, after all, you have the pleasure of knowing you are unusual, and therefore remarkable among the people of Oz. To be just like other persons is small credit to one, while to be unlike others is a mark of distinction.”
“That sounds very pretty,” returned Tommy Kwikstep, “but if you had to put on ten pair of trousers every morning, and tie up twenty shoes, you would prefer not to be so distinguished.”
“Was the witch, or fairy, or whatever she was, an old person, with wrinkled skin and half her teeth gone?” inquired the Tin Owl.
“No,” said Tommy Kwikstep.
“Then she wasn’t Old Mombi,” remarked the transformed Emperor.
“I’m not interested in who it wasn’t, so much as I am in who it was,” said the twenty-legged young man. “And, whatever or whomsoever she was, she has managed to keep out of my way.”
“If you found her, do you suppose she’d change you back into a two-legged boy?” asked Woot.
“Perhaps so, if I could run another errand for her and so earn another wish.”
“Would you really like to be as you were before?” asked Polychrome the Canary, perching upon the Green Monkey’s shoulder to observe Tommy Kwikstep more attentively.
“I would, indeed,” was the earnest reply.
“Then I will see what I can do for you,” promised the Rainbow’s Daughter, and flying to the ground she took a small twig in her bill and with it made several mystic figures on each side of Tommy Kwikstep.
“Are you a witch, or fairy, or something of the sort?” he asked as he watched her wonderingly.
The Canary made no answer, for she was busy, but the Scarecrow Bear replied: “Yes; she’s something of the sort, and a bird of a magician.”
The twenty-legged boy’s transformation happened so queerly that they were all surprised at its method. First, Tommy Kwikstep’s last two legs disappeared; then the next two, and the next, and as each pair of legs vanished his body shortened. All this while Polychrome was running around him and chirping mystical words, and when all the young man’s legs had disappeared but two he noticed that the Canary was still busy and cried out in alarm:
“Stop—stop! Leave me two of my legs, or I shall be worse off than before.”
“I know,” said the Canary. “I’m only removing with my magic the corns from your last ten toes.”
“Thank you for being so thoughtful,” he said gratefully, and now they noticed that Tommy Kwikstep was quite a nice looking young fellow.
“What will you do now?” asked Woot the Monkey.
“First,” he answered, “I must deliver a note which I’ve carried in my pocket ever since the witch, or fairy, or whatever she was, granted my foolish wish. And I am resolved never to speak again without taking time to think carefully on what I am going to say, f
or I realize that speech without thought is dangerous. And after I’ve delivered the note, I shall run errands again for anyone who needs my services.”
So he thanked Polychrome again and started away in a different direction from their own, and that was the last they saw of Tommy Kwikstep.
Chapter Eleven.Jinjur’s Ranch
As they followed a path down the blue-grass hillside, the first house that met the view of the travelers was joyously recognized by the Scarecrow Bear as the one inhabited by his friend Jinjur, so they increased their speed and hurried toward it.
On reaching the place, how ever, they found the house deserted. The front door stood open, but no one was inside. In the garden surrounding the house were neat rows of bushes bearing cream-puffs and macaroons, some of which were still green, but others ripe and ready to eat. Farther back were fields of caramels, and all the land seemed well cultivated and carefully tended. They looked through the fields for the girl farmer, but she was nowhere to be seen.
“Well,” finally remarked the little Brown Bear, “let us go into the house and make ourselves at home. That will be sure to please my friend Jinjur, who happens to be away from home just now. When she returns, she will be greatly surprised.”
“Would she care if I ate some of those ripe cream-puffs?” asked the Green Monkey.
“No, indeed; Jinjur is very generous. Help yourself to all you want,” said the Scarecrow Bear.
So Woot gathered a lot of the cream-puffs that were golden yellow and filled with a sweet, creamy substance, and ate until his hunger was satisfied. Then he entered the house with his friends and sat in a rocking-chair—just as he was accustomed to do when a boy. The Canary perched herself upon the mantel and daintily plumed her feathers; the Tin Owl sat on the back of another chair; the Scarecrow squatted on his hairy haunches in the middle of the room.
The Classic Children's Literature Collection: 39 Classic Novels Page 280