They got along quite well at first, but when they reached the middle of the river the swift current swept the raft down stream, farther and farther away from the road of yellow brick; and the water grew so deep that the long poles would not touch the bottom.
“This is bad,” said the Tin Woodman, “for if we cannot get to the land we shall be carried into the country of the wicked Witch of the West, and she will enchant us and make us her slaves.”
“And then I should get no brains,” said the Scarecrow.
“And I should get no courage,” said the Cowardly Lion.
“And I should get no heart,” said the Tin Woodman.
“And I should never get back to Kansas,” said Dorothy.
“We must certainly get to the Emerald City if we can,” the Scarecrow continued, and he pushed so hard on his long pole that it stuck fast in the mud at the bottom of the river, and before he could pull it out again, or let go, the raft was swept away and the poor Scarecrow left clinging to the pole in the middle of the river.
“Good-bye!” he called after them, and they were very sorry to leave him; indeed, the Tin Woodman began to cry, but fortunately remembered that he might rust, and so dried his tears on Dorothy’s apron.
Of course this was a bad thing for the Scarecrow.
“I am now worse off than when I first met Dorothy,” he thought. “Then, I was stuck on a pole in a cornfield, where I could make believe scare the crows, at any rate; but surely there is no use for a Scarecrow stuck on a pole in the middle of a river. I am afraid I shall never have any brains, after all!”
Down the stream the raft floated, and the poor Scarecrow was left far behind. Then the Lion said:
“Something must be done to save us. I think I can swim to the shore and pull the raft after me, if you will only hold fast to the tip of my tail.”
So he sprang into the water and the Tin Woodman caught fast hold of his tail, when the Lion began to swim with all his might toward the shore. It was hard work, although he was so big; but by and by they were drawn out of the current, and then Dorothy took the Tin Woodman’s long pole and helped push the raft to the land.
They were all tired out when they reached the shore at last and stepped off upon the pretty green grass, and they also knew that the stream had carried them a long way past the road of yellow brick that led to the Emerald City.
“What shall we do now?” asked the Tin Woodman, as the Lion lay down on the grass to let the sun dry him.
“We must get back to the road, in some way,” said Dorothy.
“The best plan will be to walk along the river bank until we come to the road again,” remarked the Lion.
So, when they were rested, Dorothy picked up her basket and they started along the grassy bank, back to the road from which the river had carried them. It was a lovely country, with plenty of flowers and fruit trees and sunshine to cheer them, and had they not felt so sorry for the poor Scarecrow they could have been very happy.
They walked along as fast as they could, Dorothy only stopping once to pick a beautiful flower; and after a time the Tin Woodman cried out,
“Look!”
Then they all looked at the river and saw the Scarecrow perched upon his pole in the middle of the water, looking very lonely and sad.
“What can we do to save him?” asked Dorothy.
The Lion and the Woodman both shook their heads, for they did not know. So they sat down upon the bank and gazed wistfully at the Scarecrow until a Stork flew by, which, seeing them, stopped to rest at the water’s edge.
“Who are you, and where are you going?” asked the Stork.
“I am Dorothy,” answered the girl; “and these are my friends, the Tin Woodman and the Cowardly Lion; and we are going to the Emerald City.”
“This isn’t the road,” said the Stork, as she twisted her long neck and looked sharply at the queer party.
“I know it,” returned Dorothy, “but we have lost the Scarecrow, and are wondering how we shall get him again.”
“Where is he?” asked the Stork.
“Over there in the river,” answered the girl.
“If he wasn’t so big and heavy I would get him for you,” remarked the Stork.
“He isn’t heavy a bit,” said Dorothy, eagerly, “for he is stuffed with straw; and if you will bring him back to us we shall thank you ever and ever so much.”
“Well, I’ll try,” said the Stork; “but if I find he is too heavy to carry I shall have to drop him in the river again.”
So the big bird flew into the air and over the water till she came to where the Scarecrow was perched upon his pole. Then the Stork with her great claws grabbed the Scarecrow by the arm and carried him up into the air and back to the bank, where Dorothy and the Lion and the Tin Woodman and Toto were sitting.
When the Scarecrow found himself among his friends again he was so happy that he hugged them all, even the Lion and Toto; and as they walked along he sang “Tol-de-ri-de-oh!” at every step, he felt so gay.
“I was afraid I should have to stay in the river forever,” he said, “but the kind Stork saved me, and if I ever get any brains I shall find the Stork again and do it some kindness in return.”
“That’s all right,” said the Stork, who was flying along beside them. “I always like to help anyone in trouble. But I must go now, for my babies are waiting in the nest for me. I hope you will find the Emerald City and that Oz will help you.”
“Thank you,” replied Dorothy, and then the kind Stork 15 flew into the air and was soon out of sight.
They walked along listening to the singing of the bright-colored birds and looking at the lovely flowers which now became so thick that the ground was carpeted with them. There were big yellow and white and blue and purple blossoms, besides great clusters of scarlet poppies, which were so brilliant in color they almost dazzled Dorothy’s eyes.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” the girl asked, as she breathed in the spicy scent of the flowers.
“I suppose so,” answered the Scarecrow. “When I have brains I shall probably like them better.”
“If I only had a heart I should love them,” added the Tin Woodman.
“I always did like flowers,” said the Lion; “they seem so helpless and frail. But there are none in the forest so bright as these.”
They now came upon more and more of the big scarlet poppies, and fewer and fewer of the other flowers; and soon they found themselves in the midst of a great meadow of poppies. Now it is well known that when there are many of these flowers together their odor is so powerful that anyone who breathes it falls asleep, and if the sleeper is not carried away from the scent of the flowers he sleeps on and on forever. But Dorothy did not know this, nor could she get away from the bright red flowers that were everywhere about; so presently her eyes grew heavy and she felt she must sit down to rest and to sleep.
The Stork carried him up into the air.
But the Tin Woodman would not let her do this.
“We must hurry and get back to the road of yellow brick before dark,” he said; and the Scarecrow agreed with him. So they kept walking until Dorothy could stand no longer. Her eyes closed in spite of herself and she forgot where she was and fell among the poppies, fast asleep.
“What shall we do?” asked the Tin Woodman.
“If we leave her here she will die,” said the Lion. “The smell of the flowers is killing us all. I myself can scarcely keep my eyes open and the dog is asleep already.”
It was true; Toto had fallen down beside his little mistress. But the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, not being made of flesh, were not troubled by the scent of the flowers.
“Run fast,” said the Scarecrow to the Lion, “and get out of this deadly flower-bed as soon as you can. We will bring the little girl with us, but if you should fall asleep you are too big to be carried.”
So the Lion aroused himself and bounded forward as fast as he could go. In a moment he was out of sight.
“Let u
s make a chair with our hands, and carry her,” said the Scarecrow. So they picked up Toto and put the dog in Dorothy’s lap, and then they made a chair with their hands for the seat and their arms for the arms and carried the sleeping girl between them through the flowers.
On and on they walked, and it seemed that the great carpet of deadly flowers that surrounded them would never end. They followed the bend of the river, and at last came upon their friend the Lion, lying fast asleep among the poppies.16 The flowers had been too strong for the huge beast and he had given up, at last, and fallen only a short distance from the end of the poppybed, where the sweet grass spread in beautiful green fields before them.
“We can do nothing for him,” said the Tin Woodman, sadly; “for he is much too heavy to lift. We must leave him here to sleep on forever, and perhaps he will dream that he has found courage at last.”
“I’m sorry,” said the Scarecrow; “the Lion was a very good comrade for one so cowardly. But let us go on.”
They carried the sleeping girl to a pretty spot beside the river, far enough from the poppy field to prevent her breathing any more of the poison of the flowers, and here they laid her gently on the soft grass and waited for the fresh breeze to waken her.
Chapter IX.
The Queen of the Field Mice.
We cannot be far from the road of yellow brick, now,” remarked the Scarecrow, as he stood beside the girl, “for we have come nearly as far as the river carried us away.”
The Tin Woodman was about to reply when he heard a low growl, and turning his head (which worked beautifully on hinges) he saw a strange beast come bounding over the grass towards them. It was, indeed, a great, yellow wildcat, and the Woodman thought it must be chasing something, for its ears were lying close to its head and its mouth was wide open, showing two rows of ugly teeth, while its red eyes glowed like balls of fire. As it came nearer the Tin Woodman saw that running before the beast was a little gray field-mouse, and although he had no heart he knew it was wrong for the wildcat to try to kill such a pretty, harmless creature.
So the Woodman raised his axe, and as the wildcat ran by he gave it a quick blow that cut the beast’s head clean off from its body, and it rolled over at his feet in two pieces.
The field-mouse, now that it was freed from its enemy, stopped short; and coming slowly up to the Woodman it said, in a squeaky little voice,
“Oh, thank you! Thank you ever so much for saving my life.”
“Don’t speak of it, I beg of you,” replied the Woodman. “I have no heart, you know, so I am careful to help all those who may need a friend, even if it happens to be only a mouse.”
“Only a mouse!” cried the little animal, indignantly; “why, I am a Queen—the Queen of all the field-mice!”
“Oh, indeed,” said the Woodman, making a bow.
“Therefore you have done a great deed, as well as a brave one, in saving my life,” added the Queen.
At that moment several mice were seen running up as fast as their little legs could carry them, and when they saw their Queen they exclaimed,
“Oh, your Majesty, we thought you would be killed! How did you manage to escape the great Wildcat?” and they all bowed so low to the little Queen that they almost stood upon their heads.
“This funny tin man,” she answered, “killed the Wildcat and saved my life. So hereafter you must all serve him, and obey his slightest wish.”17
“We will!” cried all the mice, in a shrill chorus. And then they scampered in all directions, for Toto had awakened from his sleep, and seeing all these mice around him he gave one bark of delight and jumped right into the middle of the group. Toto had always loved to chase mice when he lived in Kansas, and he saw no harm in it.
But the Tin Woodman caught the dog in his arms and held him tight, while he called to the mice: “Come back! come back! Toto shall not hurt you.”
At this the Queen of the Mice stuck her head out from a clump of grass and asked, in a timid voice,
“Are you sure he will not bite us?”
“I will not let him,” said the Woodman; “so do not be afraid.”
One by one the mice came creeping back, and Toto did not bark again, although he tried to get out of the Woodman’s arms, and would have bitten him had he not known very well he was made of tin. Finally one of the biggest mice spoke.
“Is there anything we can do,” it asked, “to repay you for saving the life of our Queen?”
“Nothing that I know of,” answered the Woodman; but the Scarecrow, who had been trying to think, but could not because his head was stuffed with straw, said, quickly,
“Oh, yes; you can save our friend, the Cowardly Lion, who is asleep in the poppy bed.”
“A Lion!” cried the little Queen; “why, he would eat us all up.”
“Oh, no;” declared the Scarecrow; “this Lion is a coward.”
“Really?” asked the Mouse.
“He says so himself,” answered the Scarecrow, “and he would never hurt anyone who is our friend. If you will help us to save him I promise that he shall treat you all with kindness.”
“Very well,” said the Queen, “we will trust you. But what shall we do?”
“Are there many of these mice which call you Queen and are willing to obey you?”
“Oh, yes; there are thousands,” she replied.
“Then send for them all to come here as soon as possible, and let each one bring a long piece of string.”
The Queen turned to the mice that attended her and told them to go at once and get all her people. As soon as they heard her orders they ran away in every direction as fast as possible.
“Now,” said the Scarecrow to the Tin Woodman, “you must go to those trees by the river-side and make a truck that will carry the Lion.”
So the Woodman went at once to the trees and began to work; and he soon made a truck out of the limbs of trees, from which he chopped away all the leaves and branches. He fastened it together with wooden pegs and made the four wheels out of short pieces of a big tree trunk. So fast and so well did he work that by the time the mice began to arrive the truck was all ready for them.
They came from all directions, and there were thousands of them: big mice and little mice and middle-sized mice; and each one brought a piece of string in his mouth. It was about this time that Dorothy woke from her long sleep and opened her eyes. She was greatly astonished to find herself lying upon the grass, with thousands of mice standing around and looking at her timidly. But the Scarecrow told her about everything, and turning to the dignified little Mouse, he said,
“Permit me to introduce to you her Majesty, the Queen.” Dorothy nodded gravely and the Queen made a courtesy,a after which she became quite friendly with the little girl.
The Scarecrow and the Woodman now began to fasten the mice to the truck, using the strings they had brought. One end of a string was tied around the neck of each mouse and the other end to the truck. Of course the truck was a thousand times bigger than any of the mice who were to draw it; but when all the mice had been harnessed they were able to pull it quite easily. Even the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman could sit on it, and were drawn swiftly by their queer little horses to the place where the Lion lay asleep.
After a great deal of hard work, for the Lion was heavy, they managed to get him up on the truck. Then the Queen hurriedly gave her people the order to start, for she feared if the mice stayed among the poppies too long they also would fall asleep.
At first the little creatures, many though they were, could hardly stir the heavily loaded truck; but the Woodman and the Scarecrow both pushed from behind, and they got along better. Soon they rolled the Lion out of the poppy bed to the green fields, where he could breathe the sweet, fresh air again, instead of the poisonous scent of the flowers.
Dorothy came to meet them and thanked the little mice warmly for saving her companion from death. She had grown so fond of the big Lion she was glad he had been rescued.
Then the mice wer
e unharnessed from the truck and scampered away through the grass to their homes. The Queen of the Mice was the last to leave.
“If ever you need us again,” she said, “come out into the field and call, and we shall hear you and come to your assistance. Good-bye!”
“Good-bye!” they all answered, and away the Queen ran, while Dorothy held Toto tightly lest he should run after her and frighten her.
After this they sat down beside the Lion until he should awaken; and the Scarecrow brought Dorothy some fruit from a tree near by, which she ate for her dinner.
“Permit me to introduce to you her Majesty, the Queen.”
Chapter X.
The Guardian of the Gates.
It was some time before the Cowardly Lion awakened, for he had lain among the poppies a long while, breathing in their deadly fragrance; but when he did open his eyes and roll off the truck he was very glad to find himself still alive.
“I ran as fast as I could,” he said, sitting down and yawning; “but the flowers were too strong for me. How did you get me out?”
Then they told him of the field-mice, and how they had generously saved him from death; and the Cowardly Lion laughed, and said,
“I have always thought myself very big and terrible; yet such small things as flowers came near to killing me, and such small animals as mice have saved my life. How strange it all is! But, comrades, what shall we do now?”
“We must journey on until we find the road of yellow brick again,” said Dorothy; “and then we can keep on to the Emerald City.”
So, the Lion being fully refreshed, and feeling quite himself again, they all started upon the journey, greatly enjoying the walk through the soft, fresh grass; and it was not long before they reached the road of yellow brick and turned again toward the Emerald City where the great Oz dwelt.
The road was smooth and well paved, now, and the country about was beautiful; so that the travellers rejoiced in leaving the forest far behind, and with it the many dangers they had met in its gloomy shades. Once more they could see fences built beside the road; but these were painted green, and when they came to a small house, in which a farmer evidently lived, that also was painted green. They passed by several of these houses during the afternoon, and sometimes people came to the doors and looked at them as if they would like to ask questions; but no one came near them nor spoke to them because of the great Lion, of which they were much afraid. The people were all dressed in clothing of a lovely emerald green color and wore peaked hats like those of the Munchkins.
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