oil.”
“Oh, Bosh, Tosh and Blather,” exclaimed Davy. “And I hear that some people use the stuff for everyday purposes. Just imagine me using it. It is ridicu-bus. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Perhaps we had better talk about the weather,” said the boy looking up at the sky where snow clouds were gathering.
Soon a fluffy fall of white began to settle lightly about them. Within ten minutes it had developed into a young blizzard and a feathery powdered downfall had blotted out the sky.
It piled over them in drifts. Strangly enough, it was not cold. Scraping up a handful, Bucky smelled it:
“Well, I’ll be scrunched if it isn’t Talcum powder!” he exclaimed.
Davy sniffed… The warm blizzard piled still higher and seemed to fall heaviest on the very spot where they stood. It came in such masses and so suddenly that they scarcely knew where to turn before they were blanketed so deeply as to be helpless. By slow degrees they were being buried under a fragrant and
unlimited mass of Talcum.
“What next?” sputtered Bucky, taking a hurried look into the sky. Not a sign of the returning Gabooches. “What’s the use,” he thought, but changed his tune the minute he remembered how close they were to the Emerald City where real trouble never comes.
Also, he knew that he had his good luck to fall back on. It usually pulled him out of serious places. And this storm was getting to be serious.
“Do you think we will be smothered?” asked Bucky, struggling toward the cabin door.
“Smothered my Grandmother!” snorted the whale in a muffled voice as an extra heavy fall of fluff poured itself over his head. Bucky fought his way into the cabin.
Once inside, he could breathe freely. He lighted the lamp and opened a cupboard door, for he was beginning to feel hungry. Not one single pie had been left!
“I hope those Wind Birds find a river before we are goners,” he said to himself as he jumped into a bunk without noticing the bright, wicked eye of old Mombi glaring up at him from her hiding place.
CHAPTER 16
In Search of a River
WHILE Bucky slept the Gabooches were flying high and low, scouring the country for miles around in search of a river.
Wherever they looked stood endless fields of corn. Mile after mile they explored, but at every turn they met only disappointment.
After hours of fruitless search, they espied a tall tower standing away off against the horizon.
Without a moment’s delay they made all haste in the direction of the tower. If there were no river near, at least they could find out where the nearest river was. Upon approaching the tower, they found that it was built in the shape of an enormous ear of corn. It certainly was inhabited for there were windows and a front door with a rickety little doorstep.
“Surely somebody is home, for smoke is coming out of the chimney,” said the Flummux as she dropped down quietly in the garden and ran around to the front door.
As she passed an open window she heard voices inside the room. She knocked softly on the door and waited.
She didn’t have long to wait before the door swung
open so suddenly that it fell off its hinges and lay on the floor inside.
“Come right in,” invited the cheerful voice of a person whose unusual appearance rather startled the Flummux. She hesitated a fraction of a second, then stepped inside without taking her eyes off the man whose smile soon put her at ease.
His head was made of a sack of meal with features painted on it, giving a fascinating expression to his face. His voice and manner were full of kindly welcome. A soft crackling sound like the ends of bits of straw rubbing together came with each move that he
….. And. . “Bless my soul!” thought the little
Gabooch when she saw that he really was stuffed with straw.
Another man was sitting on a bag of corn, a man made entirely of tin. He, too, had a cordial smile on his face as he turned toward the girl and put aside an oil can which he was using to oil his joints.
The straw man bowed with great dignity.
“Could anything be nicer than a visit from a bright young person on such a bright mornimg?” he asked as he pushed the straw back into place on his left side where it had been bulging out between the buttons of his faded blue coat.
He looked for all the world like a scarecrow, loosely
jointed in a baggy suit of clothes held together with bits of rope and string. Indeed he was a scarecrow but with the manners of an emperor.
In fact, he was both an Emperor and a Scarecrow. Though somewhat a little out of the ordinary, his friend the Tinman had every mark of a highly polished gentleman.
With a winning smile, the Scarecrow tilted his head to one side: “Now then …” he began and waited for the Flummux to speak.
“Thanks… oh, thanks a lot. I dropped in to find out if you can direct me to the nearest river,” wheezed the girl, working her bellows in nervous jerks.
The Tinman dropped his oil can in amazement and stared. The Scarecrow shuddered as he spoke:
“As near as I can gather from what you say, I suppose… at least, I suspect, you want to take a bath! Now, don’t misunderstand me, you really do not look as if you needed a bath. So let’s forget about a river. They are such awful nuisances, don’t you think so, Nick?” he added, turning to his friend.
For answer, the friend shuddered again with a great
rattle.
The Scarecrow continued: “We have had so much trouble with rivers in the past, we asked the Great Wizard of Oz to remove them from our Kingdoms.” He placed his hand affectionately on the Tinman’s shoulder. “Remember what trouble we had when the Land of the Winkies was filled with so many rivers? Day after day we were troubled with rivers and the witches and Jinkijinks that used to pull us into the water.
“One day you were lying helpless with your precious joints rusting in the bed of some river and I searched until I found you. The next day it would be I who was lying soggy and helpless in a dismal depth from which you saved me and kindly carried me home on your back. It took three days to dry me out and make an Emperor of me again. Long days of dampness and sorrow.”
At this point, the tender-hearted Flummux began to sniffle and to slap her wings. “What shall we do? What shall we do?” she kept repeating, “after big Mr. Jones and little Mr. Jones have been so kind to us… oh, stop and consider them… I cannot let them perish … Something must be done… Something…”
“My dear young friend,” softly interrupted the Tinman. “Say no more; your words grieve me more than my tender heart can stand. Perhaps a way can be found to save these friends who are in danger. My friend and I are rulers of this land. I have only a heart of gold. He has the superior brain. Together
we surely will find a way out.”
The Scarecrow pressed his brains into shape with his clumsy hands. His eyes took on an intent look.
“Just a moment!” he began, “I seem to remember now… there used to be a river that flowed close to the back of the house…
“You’re right. I remember that river,” added the Tinman eagerly. “It was a beautiful river in a way, but it caused us no end of trouble. So, we had the authorities remove them all except a few that were left far outside. But they have limited permits and are allowed to flow only short distances.”
The Flummux said cautiously, lest she interrupt the line of thought: “That accounts for the sudden ending of these rivers!”
“It most certainly does…” replied the Tinman.
“Now that I come to think of it,” the Scarecrow continued, dreamily. “The Wizard rolled it up and put our river under the back cellar door, didn’t he?”
“What a brain you have! What a memory!!” exclaimed the Tinman clasping the Scarecrow’s hand.
They all hurried to the rear of the corn castle, and when they lifted the cellar door, sure enough, there lay a beautiful river, all rolled up and ready for use.
; “Just as good as the day it was put there,” said the
kindhearted Tinman. “My friend has not only the most obliging nature but a helping hand as well.”
“Lovely! Lovely! Lovely!” whistled the Flummux through her brass nozzle. “Now everything will be perfectly lovely!”
“I am quite sure we can lend you our river just long enough to relieve your friends in distress.” The Scarecrow made this offer with a gracious wave of his cotton hand. “Bring it back when you are through with it and put it under the door.”
“Thanks for all your kindness. Now the big whale and Mr. Bucky will get safely to the Emerald City,” said the Flummux and, being very polite, she attempted to curtsy.
“The what!” screamed the Scarecrow and the Tinman together, in great alarm. “We can’t permit a big whale in the Emerald City. There’s no place for such an enormous fish. Will he want the rivers back again? Where will he stay if he doesn’t have a river? What will Ozma think of such a calamity?”
“That really doesn’t matter,” replied the excited girl as she and her three brothers streaked back to Bucky and Davy in Soap Hollow, with the borrowed river following close at their heels.
Both Nick Chopper and the Scarecrow sank down on bags of corn. They looked worried but said nothing.
There was nothing to be said. CHAPTER 17 Scarecrow Entertains
AS far as the Gabooches could see, a dreary blanket of snow covered the valley where they had left their friends. But almost immediately they discovered a decided hump on the spot from which they had taken off. It had the definite shape of a whale.
Blowing their heaviest blasts of wind they cleared away the drifts of white fluff, disclosing the large intelligent eye of Davy. It gave them an encouraging wink as they continued to dig with their heaviest gale and in a short time they had freed the buried whale, who came out fit as a fiddle and ready to start.
Next a path to the river was cleared by the blasts of the four delighted Gabooches and the adventurers were on their way, with a clear run ahead to the corncastle the Tin Emperor had built for the Scarecrow.
The lookout located the tall residence of the famous friends and not long after that, it loomed majestically before them. It was evident to Davy that he was approaching friendly territory and his hopes revived
when the guiding Gabooches stopped him under the shadow of the imposing building.
With a loud clatter the front door was pushed open. Out rushed the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman to welcome them and see what sort of visitors were at their door.
There was no need to introduce these two good fellows to the whale. He knew them. The fame of these celebrated characters had spread to the far corners of the land. To really see them with his own eyes and hear them speak filled Davy with awe. The wonder of it all so impressed the great kind fish that he could not find words with which to answer when the Scarecrow stumbled in the doorway and would have fallen if the Tinman had not caught him in time.
Still smiling the Strawman regained his feet and spoke cordially:
“It is always an honor to welcome new friends. As spokesman for the Tin Woodman here, my friend and the Emperor of this fair land of Winkies I offer warm hospitality. So, feel that you are among friends.” He turned to include his tin companion: “You will agree that strangers are always welcome here, even the strangest.”
Davy tried again to answer, but his feelings choked his words and he could only gulp: “C-C-Come aboard.”
“Certainly, certainly,” replied the two popular heroes in concert. Assisted by Tom, Dick and Harry they came aboard to examine the strange craft.
The Ilummux spoke up: “I have been telling Mr. Davy how perfectly lovely you were to lend us your river. Just fancy poor Mr. Davy having to squirm his way across that long distance.”
Davy also thanked them for their welcome and the loan of the river: “Come inside and see our comfortable cabin,” he added as the Flummux opened the door.
The two celebrities wandered into the interior of the whale, eager and pleased with this new experience and interested in all the handy appliances that were provided in Davy’s interior.
The sound of voices and the daylight shining through the open door roused the sleeping Bucky. With a start, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Two astonishing faces were smiling at him. They held friendly expressions so he said: “Good-morning,” as he slid to the floor.
“All Oz mornings are good mornings,” heartily replied Nickchopper as he examined the wooden beams that supported the framework of the whale. “Quite a snug place you have here,” he remarked.
“It certainly is,” added the Scarecrow. “We must
ask Ozma and all the good folks in the Emerald City to call on you to see your attractive home.”
“Do you really think they would come here to visit us?” Bucky asked in an awed whisper.
“Leave it to me,” responded the Strawman with a grand gesture. “I will attend to all the details. With a good lunch and a cool breeze thrown in, I know they would enjoy it.”
Having examined every nook and cranny of the cabin, but not looking carefully under the bunk, where old Mombi crouched without making a sound, far out of sight, the visitors returned to the deck and Bucky passed his hand affectionately over Davy’s wooden nose which was scratched and discolored by the soap. The whale turned his eyes downward on his guests, then, overcoming his bashfulness, he inquired:
“How far is the Emerald City from here?”
“Nick and I have walked it in two days. I suppose the young lady could fly there in sixteen minutes,” answered the Scarecrow, turning to the Flummux.
“But just how long it would take to……. swim…….
that’s another question I cannot answer… as I have never learned to swim. It all depends on how fast a swimmer you are.”
“Davy is the fastest swimmer I ever saw,” said Bucky with pride as he reached up and wiped the soap
from the whale’s eyes. “He’s a champion swimmer and what he has been through in the last few days shows he can stand the racket.” And Bucky told briefly of their adventures.
The Tin Woodman and the Strawman were first thrilled and then alarmed by the tale. But, with the final escape of the adventurers to the corncastle and safety, they all breathed more freely.
“I wish I had time to tell you of some of our adventures,” said the Scarecrow. “I know that you are anxious to run along but before you go, I would like you to come inside and see the castle Nick built for me to use while visiting him if you’ve a few minutes to spare. From the top of the tower there is a magnificent view. You can see the Emerald City very plainly.”
The invitation was readily accepted and Bucky climbed twenty flights of stairs to the lookout. Indeed, the view was magnificent.
To the west the bright green domes of Ozma’s palace glistened in the afternoon sun.
“Ahoy, Davy!” he called to the whale below. “We ought to get there tomorrow !”
Standing between the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, Bucky had pointed out to him the purple lands
of the Gillikins to the north and the Quadlings’ red lands to the south. Far in the distance, beyond the Emerald City, lay the blue lands of the Munchkins, where the Scarecrow was Emperor. Every detail of this information was shouted down to the whale.
Bucky was now convinced that the splendors of the great Land of Oz were true and not fantastic tales. Every good thing about the land was related patriotically by the Emperor of the Winkies and his companion. The great corncastle in which they lived was proof enough that the whole life of the city of Ozma and her possessions was managed with generosity and understanding.
“This castle of Nick’s is a place any emperor should be proud of. Don’t you think so?” asked the Scarecrow.
“Proud indeed!” agreed Bucky.
“Some day I must show you through the tin towers of my metal palace,” the Tin Woodman suggested.
Resting on the bosom of the river, Davy
’s contentment was changing into a restlessness to be off. The wind birds were darting about impatiently, encircling the tower where they could cast sidelong glances at Bucky and then retreating toward the whale. They were too polite to be outspoken to Bucky but he got the hint they were trying to give him. He turned with
his hosts and left the platform of the tower to descend the stairs.
Suddenly the Tinman leaped into the air: “Be careful, old chum!” he warned, but he spoke too late.
Catching his foot in a coil of wire, the Scarecrow slipped on the top step and plunged headlong down twelve flights of stairs.
Bucky hurried down after him, expecting to find the hapless Emperor mashed into nothing or torn into shreds. Instead he came upon him smiling and patting his head again into shape.
“I hope you didn’t hurt yourself with that awful fall,” cried Bucky solicitously.
“What do you mean? Awful fall? I always come down stairs that way. It saves time and it’s lots of fun. Try it some day.”
Whatever Bucky thought he kept to himself as he helped the Emperor to his feet and waited until Nickchopper descended the stairs. They went out together to the wooden whale.
“I do hope you will excuse my battered and splattered appearance,” said Davy. “I forgot to mention it before.”
“Don’t give it a thought,” replied the Scarecrow cheerfully, for he himself was covered with dust. “The
Wizard will fix you up in jig time. He’ll give you a whole new polish, may even change your color. In fact, he could make you even smaller-say about four or five inches long. You could live comfortably in a glass bowl on the Queen’s dining-table.”
“To live in a glass bowl is not exactly what I had expected,” said Davy with a stiff nod of his ponderous head. “Even the thought of such a fate shivers all my timbers. I could never think of it—never!”
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