"If you know so much," she retorted, "why don't you know where your dishpan is, instead of chasing around the country after it?"
"Presently," he answered, "I am going where it is; but just now I am traveling and have had no breakfast. Therefore I honor you by asking you for something to eat."
"Oho! the Great Frogman is hungry as any tramp, is he? Then pick up these sticks and help me to build the fire," said the woman contemptuously.
"Me! The Great Frogman pick up sticks?" he exclaimed in horror. "In the Yip Country, where I am more honored and powerful than any King could be, people weep with joy when I ask them to feed me."
"Then that's the place to go for your breakfast," declared the woman.
"I fear you do not realize my importance," urged the Frogman. "Exceeding wisdom renders me superior to menial duties."
"It's a great wonder to me," remarked the woman, carrying her sticks to the house, "that your wisdom doesn't inform you that you'll get no breakfast here," and she went in and slammed the door behind her.
The Frogman felt he had been insulted, so he gave a loud croak of indignation and turned away. After going a short distance he came upon a faint path which led across a meadow in the direction of a grove of pretty trees, and thinking this circle of evergreens must surround a house—where perhaps he would be kindly received—he decided to follow the path. And by and by he came to the trees, which were set close together, and pushing aside some branches he found no house inside the circle, but instead a very beautiful pond of clear water.
Now the Frogman, although he was so big and so well educated and now aped the ways and customs of human beings, was still a frog. As he gazed at this solitary, deserted pond, his love for water returned to him with irresistible force.
"If I cannot get a breakfast I may at least have a fine swim," said he, and pushing his way between the trees he reached the bank. There he took off his fine clothing, laying his shiny purple hat and his gold-headed cane beside it. A moment later he sprang with one leap into the water and dived to the very bottom of the pond.
The water was deliciously cool and grateful to his thick, rough skin, and the Frogman swam around the pond several times before he stopped to rest. Then he floated upon the surface and examined the pond with some curiosity. The bottom and sides were all lined with glossy tiles of a light pink color; just one place in the bottom, where the water bubbled up from a hidden spring, had been left free. On the banks the green grass grew to the edge of the pink tiling.
And now, as the Frogman examined the place, he found that on one side the pool, just above the water line, had been set a golden plate on which some words were deeply engraved. He swam toward this plate and on reaching it read the following inscription:
This is
THE TRUTH POND
Whoever bathes in this
water must always
afterward tell
THE TRUTH
This statement startled the Frogman. It even worried him, so that he leaped upon the bank and hurriedly began to dress himself.
"A great misfortune has befallen me," he told himself, "for hereafter I cannot tell people I am wise, since it is not the truth. The truth is that my boasted wisdom is all a sham, assumed by me to deceive people and make them defer to me. In truth, no living creature can know much more than his fellows, for one may know one thing, and another know another thing, so that wisdom is evenly scattered throughout the world. But—ah, me!—what a terrible fate will now be mine. Even Cayke the Cookie Cook will soon discover that my knowledge is no greater than her own; for having bathed in the enchanted water of the Truth Pond, I can no longer deceive her or tell a lie."
More humbled than he had been for many years, the Frogman went back to the grove where he had left Cayke and found the woman now awake and washing her face in a tiny brook.
"Where has Your Honor been?" she asked.
"To a farmhouse to ask for something to eat," said he, "but the woman refused me."
"How dreadful!" she exclaimed. "But never mind; there are other houses, where the people will be glad to feed the Wisest Creature in all the World."
"Do you mean yourself?" he asked.
"No, I mean you."
The Frogman felt strongly impelled to tell the truth, but struggled hard against it. His reason told him there was no use in letting Cayke know he was not wise, for then she would lose much respect for him, but each time he opened his mouth to speak he realized he was about to tell the truth and shut it again as quickly as possible. He tried to talk about something else, but the words necessary to undeceive the woman would force themselves to his lips in spite of all his struggles. Finally, knowing that he must either remain dumb or let the truth prevail, he gave a low groan of despair and said:
"Cayke, I am not the Wisest Creature in all the World; I am not wise at all."
"Oh, you must be!" she protested. "You told me so yourself, only last evening."
"Then last evening I failed to tell you the truth," he admitted, looking very shamefaced, for a frog. "I am sorry I told you that lie, my good Cayke; but, if you must know the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, I am not really as wise as you are."
The Cookie Cook was greatly shocked to hear this, for it shattered one of her most pleasing illusions. She looked at the gorgeously dressed Frogman in amazement.
"What has caused you to change your mind so suddenly?" she inquired.
"I have bathed in the Truth Pond," he said, "and whoever bathes in that water is ever afterward obliged to tell the truth."
"You were foolish to do that," declared the woman. "It is often very embarrassing to tell the truth. I'm glad I didn't bathe in that dreadful water!"
The Frogman looked at his companion thoughtfully.
"Cayke," said he, "I want you to go to the Truth Pond and take a bath in its water. For, if we are to travel together and encounter unknown adventures, it would not be fair that I alone must always tell you the truth, while you could tell me whatever you pleased. If we both dip in the enchanted water there will be no chance in the future of our deceiving one another."
"No," she asserted, shaking her head positively, "I won't do it, Your Honor. For, if I told you the truth, I'm sure you wouldn't like me. No Truth Pond for me. I'll be just as I am, an honest woman who can say what she wants to without hurting anyone's feelings."
With this decision the Frogman was forced to be content, although he was sorry the Cookie Cook would not listen to his advice.
* * *
CHAPTER 14
Leaving the grove
where they had
slept, the Frogman
and the Cookie
Cook turned to the east to seek another house and after a short walk came to one where the people received them very politely. The children stared rather hard at the big, pompous Frogman, but the woman of the house, when Cayke asked for something to eat, at once brought them food and said they were welcome to it.
"Few people in need of help pass this way," she remarked, "for the Winkies are all prosperous and love to stay in their own homes. But perhaps you are not a Winkle," she added.
"No," said Cayke, "I am a Yip, and my home is on a high mountain at the southeast of your country."
"And the Frogman—is he, also, a Yip?"
"I do not know what he is, other than a very remarkable and highly educated creature," replied the Cookie Cook. "But he has lived many years among the Yips, who have found him so wise and intelligent that they always go to him for advice."
"May I ask why you have left your home, and where you are going?" said the Winkie woman.
Then Cayke told her of the diamond-studded gold dishpan and how it had been mysteriously stolen from her house, after which she had discovered that she could no longer cook good cookies. So she had resolved to search until she found her dishpan again, because a Cookie Cook who cannot cook good cookies is not of much use. The Frogman, who wanted to see more of the world, had accompanied her to assis
t in the search. When the woman had listened to this story she asked.
"Then you have no idea, as yet, who has stolen your dishpan?"
"I only know it must have been some mischievous fairy, or a magician, or some such powerful person, because none other could have climbed the steep mountain to the Yip Country. And who else could have carried away my beautiful, magic dishpan without being seen?"
The woman thought about this during the time that Cayke and the Frogman ate their breakfast. When they had finished she said:
"Where are you going next?"
"We have not decided," answered the Cookie Cook.
"Our plan," explained the Frogman, in his important way, "is to travel from place to place until we learn where the thief is located, and then to force him to return the dishpan to its proper owner."
"The plan is all right," agreed the woman, "but it may take you a long time before you succeed, your method being sort of haphazard and indefinite. However, I advise you to travel toward the east."
"Why?" asked the Frogman.
"Because if you went west you would soon come to the desert, and also because in this part of the Winkie Country no one steals, so your time here would be wasted. But toward the east, beyond the river, live many strange people whose honesty I would not vouch for. Moreover, if you journey far enough east and cross the river for a second time, you will come to the Emerald City, where there is much magic and sorcery. The Emerald City is ruled by a dear little girl called Ozma, who also rules the Emperor of the Winkies and all the Land of Oz. So, as Ozma is a fairy, she may be able to tell you just who has taken your precious dishpan. Provided, of course, you do not find it before you reach her."
"This seems to me to be excellent advice," said the Frogman, and Cayke agreed with him.
"The most sensible thing for you to do," continued the woman, "would be to return to your home and use another dishpan, learning to cook cookies as other people cook cookies, without the aid of magic. But, if you cannot be happy without the magic dishpan you have lost, you are likely to learn more about it in the Emerald City than at any other place in Oz."
They thanked the good woman and on leaving her house faced the east and continued in that direction all the way. Toward evening they came to the west branch of the Winkie River and there, on the river bank, found a ferryman who lived all alone in a little yellow house.
This ferryman was a Winkie with a very small head and a very large body. He was sitting in his doorway as the travelers approached him and did not even turn his head to look at them.
"Good evening," said the Frogman.
The ferryman made no reply.
"We would like some supper and the privilege of sleeping in your house until morning," continued the Frogman. "At daybreak we would like some breakfast and then we would like to have you row us across the river."
The ferryman neither moved nor spoke. He sat in his doorway and looked straight ahead.
"I think he must be deaf and dumb," Cayke whispered to her companion. Then she stood directly in front of the ferryman and putting her mouth close to his ear she yelled as loudly as she could:
"Good evening!"
The ferryman scowled.
"Why do you yell at me, woman?" he asked.
"Can you hear what I say?" she asked in her ordinary tone of voice.
"Of course," replied the man.
"Then why didn't you answer the Frogman?"
"Because," said the ferryman, "I don't understand the frog language."
"He speaks the same words that I do and in the same way," declared Cayke.
"Perhaps," replied the ferryman; "but to me his voice sounded like a frog's croak. I know that in the Land of Oz animals can speak our language, and so can the birds and bugs and fishes; but in my ears they sound merely like growls and chirps and croaks."
"Why is that?" asked the Cookie Cook in surprise.
"Once, many years ago, I cut the tail off a fox which had taunted me; and I stole some birds' eggs from a nest to make an omelet with, and also I pulled a fish from the river and left it lying on the bank to gasp for lack of water until it died. I don't know why I did those wicked things, but I did them. So the Emperor of the Winkies—who is the Tin Woodman and has a very tender tin heart—punished me by denying me any communication with beasts, birds or fishes. I cannot understand them when they speak to me, although I know that other people can do so, nor can the creatures understand a word I say to them. Every time I meet one of them I am reminded of my former cruelty, and it makes me very unhappy."
"Really," said Cayke, "I'm sorry for you, although the Tin Woodman is not to blame for punishing you."
"What is he mumbling about?" asked the Frogman.
"He is talking to me, but you don't understand him," she replied. And then she told him of the ferryman's punishment and afterward explained to the ferryman that they wanted to stay all night with him and be fed.
He gave them some fruit and bread, which was the only sort of food he had, and he allowed Cayke to sleep in a room of his cottage. But the Frogman he refused to admit to his house, saying that the frog's presence made him miserable and unhappy. At no time would he look directly at the Frogman, or even toward him, fearing he would shed tears if he did so; so the big frog slept on the river bank, where he could hear little frogs croaking in the river all the night through. But that did not keep him awake; it merely soothed him to slumber, for he realized how much superior he was to them.
Just as the sun was rising on a new day the ferryman rowed the two travelers across the river—keeping his back to the Frogman all the way—and then Cayke thanked him and bade him good-bye and the ferryman rowed home again.
On this side the river there were no paths at all, so it was evident they had reached a part of the country little frequented by travelers. There was a marsh at the south of them, sandhills at the north and a growth of scrubby underbrush leading toward a forest at the east. So the east was really the least difficult way to go and that direction was the one they had determined to follow.
Now the Frogman, although he wore green patent-leather shoes with ruby buttons, had very large and flat feet, and when he tramped through the scrub his weight crushed down the underbrush and made a path for Cayke to follow him. Therefore they soon reached the forest, where the tall trees were set far apart but were so leafy that they shaded all the spaces between them with their branches.
"There are no bushes here," said Cayke, much pleased, "so we can now travel faster and with more comfort."
* * *
CHAPTER 15
It was a pleasant
place to wander in
and the two travelers
were proceeding
at a brisk pace when suddenly a voice shouted:
"Halt!"
They looked around in surprise, seeing at first no one at all. Then from behind a tree there stepped a brown fuzzy bear, whose head came about as high as Cayke's waist—and Cayke was a small woman. The bear was chubby as well as fuzzy; his body was even puffy, while his legs and arms seemed jointed at the knees and elbows and fastened to his body by pins or rivets. His ears were round in shape and stuck out in a comical way, while his round black eyes were bright and sparkling as beads. Over his shoulder the little brown bear bore a gun with a tin barrel. The barrel had a cork in the end of it and a string was attached to the cork and to the handle of the gun.
Both the Frogman and Cayke gazed hard at this curious bear, standing silent for some time. But finally the Frogman recovered from his surprise and remarked:
"It seems to me that you are stuffed with sawdust and ought not to be alive."
"That's all you know about it," answered the little Brown Bear in a squeaky voice. "I am stuffed with a very good quality of curled hair and my skin is the best plush that was ever made. As for my being alive, that is my own affair and cannot concern you at all—except that it gives me the privilege to say you are my prisoners."
"Prisoners! Why do you speak s
uch nonsense?" asked the Frogman angrily. "Do you think we are afraid of a toy bear with a toy gun?"
"You ought to be," was the confident reply, "for I am merely the sentry guarding the way to Bear Center, which is a city containing hundreds of my race, who are ruled by a very powerful sorcerer known as the Lavender Bear. He ought to be a purple color, you know, seeing he is a King, but he's only light lavender, which is, of course, second-cousin to royal purple. So, unless you come with me peaceably, as my prisoners, I shall fire my gun and bring a hundred bears—of all sizes and colors—to capture you."
"Why do you wish to capture us?" inquired the Frogman, who had listened to this speech with much astonishment.
"I don't wish to, as a matter of fact," replied the little Brown Bear, "but it is my duty to, because you are now trespassing on the domain of His Majesty the King of Bear Center. Also I will admit that things are rather quiet in our city, just now, and the excitement of your capture, followed by your trial and execution, should afford us much entertainment."
"We defy you!" said the Frogman.
"Oh, no; don't do that," pleaded Cayke, speaking to her companion. "He says his King is a sorcerer, so perhaps it is he or one of his bears who ventured to steal my jeweled dishpan. Let us go to the City of the Bears and discover if my dishpan is there."
"I must now register one more charge against you," remarked the little Brown Bear, with evident satisfaction. "You have just accused us of stealing, and that is such a dreadful thing to say that I am quite sure our noble King will command you to be executed."
"But how could you execute us?" inquired the Cookie Cook.
"I've no idea. But our King is a wonderful inventor and there is no doubt he can find a proper way to destroy you. So, tell me, are you going to struggle, or will you go peaceably to meet your doom?"