And with another bow, the Monkey King spread his wings and flew away through the window, followed by all his band.
Dorothy was almost ready to cry with disappointment.
“I have wasted the charm of the Golden Cap to no purpose,” she said, “for the Winged Monkeys cannot help me.”
“It is certainly too bad!” said the tender hearted Woodman.
The Scarecrow was thinking again, and his head bulged out so horribly that Dorothy feared it would burst.
“Let us call in the soldier with the green whiskers,” he said, “and ask his advice.”
So the soldier was summoned and entered the Throne Room timidly, for while Oz was alive he never was allowed to come further than the door.
“This little girl,” said the Scarecrow to the soldier, “wishes to cross the desert. How can she do so?”
“I cannot tell,” answered the soldier; “for nobody has ever crossed the desert, unless it is Oz himself.”
“Is there no one who can help me?” asked Dorothy, earnestly.
“Glinda might,” he suggested.
“Who is Glinda?” enquired the Scarecrow.
“The Witch of the South. She is the most powerful of all the Witches, and rules over the Quadlings. Besides, her castle stands on the edge of the desert, so she may know a way to cross it.”
“Glinda is a Good Witch, isn’t she?” asked the child.
“The Quadlings think she is good,” said the soldier, “and she is kind to everyone. I have heard that Glinda is a beautiful woman, who knows how to keep young in spite of the many years she has lived.”
“How can I get to her castle?” asked Dorothy.
“The road is straight to the South,” he answered, “but it is said to be full of dangers to travellers. There are wild beasts in the woods, and a race of queer men who do not like strangers to cross their country. For this reason none of the Quadlings ever come to the Emerald City.”
The soldier then left them and the Scarecrow said,
“It seems, in spite of dangers, that the best thing Dorothy can do is to travel to the Land of the South and ask Glinda to help her. For, of course, if Dorothy stays here she will never get back to Kansas.”
“You must have been thinking again,” remarked the Tin Woodman.
“I have,” said the Scarecrow.
“I shall go with Dorothy,” declared the Lion, “for I am tired of your city and long for the woods and the country again. I am really a wild beast, you know. Besides, Dorothy will need someone to protect her.”
“That is true,” agreed the Woodman. “My axe may be of service to her; so I, also, will go with her to the Land of the South.”
“When shall we start?” asked the Scarecrow.
“Are you going?” they asked, in surprise.
“Certainly. If it wasn’t for Dorothy I should never have had brains. She lifted me from the pole in the cornfield and brought me to the Emerald City. So my good luck is all due to her, and I shall never leave her until she starts back to Kansas for good and all.”
“Thank you,” said Dorothy, gratefully. “You are all very kind to me. But I should like to start as soon as possible.”
“We shall go to-morrow morning,” returned the Scarecrow. “So now let us all get ready, for it will be a long journey.”
Chapter XIX.
Attacked by the
Fighting Trees.
THE NEXT MORNING Dorothy kissed the pretty green girl good-bye, and they all shook hands with the soldier with the green whiskers, who had walked with them as far as the gate. When the Guardian of the Gates saw them again, he wondered greatly that they could leave the beautiful City to get into new trouble. But he at once unlocked their spectacles, which he put back into the green box, and gave them many good wishes to carry with them.
“You are now our ruler,” he said to the Scarecrow; “so you must come back to us as soon as possible.”
“I certainly shall if I am able,” the Scarecrow replied; “but I must help Dorothy to get home, first.”
As Dorothy bade the good-natured Guardian a last farewell she said,
“I have been very kindly treated in your lovely City, and everyone has been good to me. I cannot tell you how grateful I am.”
“Don’t try, my dear,” he answered. “We should like to keep you with us, but if it is your wish to return to Kansas, I hope you will find a way.” He then opened the gate of the outer wall and they walked forth and started upon their journey.
The sun shone brightly as our friends turned their faces toward the Land of the South. They were all in the best of spirits, and laughed and chatted together. Dorothy was once more filled with the hope of getting home, and the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were glad to be of use to her. As for the Lion, he sniffed the fresh air with delight and whisked his tail from side to side in pure joy at being in the country again, while Toto ran around them and chased the moths and butterflies, barking merrily all the time.
“City life does not agree with me at all,” remarked the Lion, as they walked along at a brisk pace. “I have lost much flesh since I lived there, and now I am anxious for a chance to show the other beasts how courageous I have grown.”
They now turned and took a last look at the Emerald City. All they could see was a mass of towers and steeples behind the green walls, and high up above everything the spires and dome of the Palace of Oz.
“Oz was not such a bad Wizard, after all,” said the Tin Woodman, as he felt his heart rattling around in his breast.
“He knew how to give me brains, and very good brains, too,” said the Scarecrow.
“If Oz had taken a dose of the same courage he gave me,” added the Lion, “he would have been a brave man.”
Dorothy said nothing. Oz had not kept the promise he made her, but he had done his best, so she forgave him. As he said, he was a good man, even if he was a bad Wizard.
The first day’s journey was through the green fields and bright flowers that stretched about the Emerald City on every side. They slept that night on the grass, with nothing but the stars over them; and they rested very well indeed.
In the morning they travelled on until they came to a thick wood. There was no way of going around it, for it seemed to extend to the right and left as far as they could see; and, besides, they did not dare change the direction of their journey for fear of getting lost. So they looked for the place where it would be easiest to get into the forest.
The Scarecrow, who was in the lead, finally discovered a big tree with such wide spreading branches that there was room for the party to pass underneath. So he walked forward to the tree, but just as he came under the first branches they bent down and twined around him, and the next minute he was raised from the ground and flung headlong among his fellow travellers.
This did not hurt the Scarecrow, but it surprised him, and he looked rather dizzy when Dorothy picked him up.
“Here is another space between the trees,” called the Lion.
“Let me try it first,” said the Scarecrow, “for it doesn’t hurt me to get thrown about.” He walked up to another tree, as he spoke, but its branches immediately seized him and tossed him back again.
“This is strange,” exclaimed Dorothy; “what shall we do?”
“The trees seem to have made up their minds to fight us, and stop our journey,” remarked the Lion.
“I believe I will try it myself,” said the Woodman, and shouldering his axe, he marched up to the first tree that had handled the Scarecrow so roughly. When a big branch bent down to seize him the Woodman chopped at it so fiercely that he cut it in two. At once the tree began shaking all its branches as if in pain, and the Tin Woodman passed safely under it.
“Come on!” he shouted to the others; “be quick!”
They all ran forward and passed under the tree without injury, except Toto, who was caught by a small branch and shaken until he howled. But the Woodman promptly chopped off the branch and set the little dog free.
r /> The other trees of the forest did nothing to keep them back, so they made up their minds that only the first row of trees could bend down their branches, and that probably these were the policemen of the forest, and given this wonderful power in order to keep strangers out of it.
The four travellers walked with ease through the trees until they came to the further edge of the wood. Then, to their surprise, they found before them a high wall, which seemed to be made of white china. It was smooth, like the surface of a dish, and higher than their heads.
“What shall we do now?” asked Dorothy.
“I will make a ladder,” said the Tin Woodman, “for we certainly must climb over the wall.”
Chapter XX.
The Dainty
China Country.
WHILE THE WOODMAN was making a ladder from wood which he found in the forest Dorothy lay down and slept, for she was tired by the long walk. The Lion also curled himself up to sleep, and Toto lay beside him.
The Scarecrow watched the Woodman while he worked, and said to him:
“I cannot think why this wall is here, nor what it is made of.”
“Rest your brains and do not worry about the wall,” replied the Woodman; “when we have climbed over it, we shall know what is on the other side.”
After a time the ladder was finished. It looked clumsy, but the Tin Woodman was sure it was strong and would answer their purpose. The Scarecrow waked Dorothy and the Lion and Toto, and told them that the ladder was ready. The Scarecrow climbed up the ladder first, but he was so awkward that Dorothy had to follow close behind and keep him from falling off. When he got his head over the top of the wall the Scarecrow said,
“Oh, my!”
“Go on,” exclaimed Dorothy.
So the Scarecrow climbed farther up and sat down on the top of the wall, and Dorothy put her head over and cried,
“Oh, my!” just as the Scarecrow had done.
Then Toto came up, and immediately began to bark, but Dorothy made him be still.
The Lion climbed the ladder next, and the Tin Woodman came last; but both of them cried, “Oh, my!” as soon as they looked over the wall. When they were all sitting in a row on the top of the wall, they looked down and saw a strange sight.
Before them was a great stretch of country having a floor as smooth and shining and white as the bottom of a big platter. Scattered around were many houses made entirely of china and painted in the brightest colors. These houses were quite small, the biggest of them reaching only as high as Dorothy’s waist. There were also pretty little barns, with china fences around them; and many cows and sheep and horses and pigs and chickens, all made of china, were standing about in groups.
But the strangest of all were the people who lived in this queer country. There were milk-maids and shepherdesses, with brightly colored bodices and golden spots all over their gowns; and princesses with most gorgeous frocks of silver and gold and purple; and shepherds dressed in knee-breeches with pink and yellow and blue stripes down them, and golden buckles on their shoes; and princes with jeweled crowns upon their heads, wearing ermine robes and satin doublets; and funny clowns in ruffled gowns, with round red spots upon their cheeks and tall, pointed caps. And, strangest of all, these people were all made of china, even to their clothes, and were so small that the tallest of them was no higher than Dorothy’s knee.
No one did so much as look at the travellers at first, except one little purple china dog with an extra-large head, which came to the wall and barked at them in a tiny voice, afterwards running away again.
“How shall we get down?” asked Dorothy.
They found the ladder so heavy they could not pull it up, so the Scarecrow fell off the wall and the others jumped down upon him so that the hard floor would not hurt their feet. Of course they took pains not to light on his head and get the pins in their feet. When all were safely down they picked up the Scarecrow, whose body was quite flattened out, and patted his straw into shape again.
“We must cross this strange place in order to get to the other side,” said Dorothy; “for it would be unwise for us to go any other way except due South.”
They began walking through the country of the china people, and the first thing they came to was a china milk-maid milking a china cow. As they drew near the cow suddenly gave a kick and kicked over the stool, the pail, and even the milk-maid herself, all falling on the china ground with a great clatter.
Dorothy was shocked to see that the cow had broken her leg short off, and that the pail was lying in several small pieces, while the poor milk-maid had a nick in her left elbow.
“There!” cried the milk-maid, angrily; “see what you have done! My cow has broken her leg, and I must take her to the mender’s shop and have it glued on again. What do you mean by coming here and frightening my cow?”
“I’m very sorry,” returned Dorothy; “please forgive us.”
But the pretty milk-maid was much too vexed to make any answer. She picked up the leg sulkily and led her cow away, the poor animal limping on three legs. As she left them the milk-maid cast many reproachful glances over her shoulder at the clumsy strangers, holding her nicked elbow close to her side.
Dorothy was quite grieved at this mishap.
“We must be very careful here,” said the kind-hearted Woodman, “or we may hurt these pretty little people so they will never get over it.”
A little farther on Dorothy met a most beautifully dressed young princess, who stopped short as she saw the strangers and started to run away.
Dorothy wanted to see more of the princess, so she ran after her; but the china girl cried out, “Don’t chase me! Don’t chase me!”
She had such a frightened little voice that Dorothy stopped and said,
“Why not?”
“Because,” answered the princess, also stopping, a safe distance away, “if I run I may fall down and break myself.”
“But couldn’t you be mended?” asked the girl.
“Oh, yes; but one is never so pretty after being mended, you know,” replied the princess.
“I suppose not,” said Dorothy.
“Now there is Mr. Joker, one of our clowns,” continued the china lady, “who is always trying to stand upon his head. He has broken himself so often that he is mended in a hundred places, and doesn’t look at all pretty. Here he comes now, so you can see for yourself.”
Indeed, a jolly little Clown came walking toward them, and Dorothy could see that in spite of his pretty clothes of red and yellow and green he was completely covered with cracks, running every which way and showing plainly that he had been mended in many places.
The Clown put his hands in his pockets, and after puffing out his cheeks and nodding his head at them saucily, he said,
“My lady fair,
Why do you stare
At poor old Mr. Joker?
You’re quite as stiff
And prim as if
You’d eaten up a poker!”
“Be quiet, sir!” said the princess; “can’t you see these are strangers, and should be treated with respect?”
“Well, that’s respect, I expect,” declared the Clown, and immediately stood upon his head.
“Don’t mind Mr. Joker,” said the princess to Dorothy; “he is considerably cracked in his head, and that makes him foolish.”
“Oh, I don’t mind him a bit,” said Dorothy. “But you are so beautiful,” she continued, “that I am sure I could love you dearly. Won’t you let me carry you back to Kansas and stand you on Aunt Em’s mantle-shelf? I could carry you in my basket.”
“That would make me very unhappy,” answered the china princess. “You see, here in our own country we live contentedly, and can talk and move around as we please. But whenever any of us are taken away our joints at once stiffen, and we can only stand straight and look pretty.
Of course that is all that is expected of us when we are on mantle-shelves and cabinets and drawing-room tables, but our lives are much pleasante
r here in our own country.”
“I would not make you unhappy for all the world!” exclaimed Dorothy; “so I’ll just say good-bye.”
“Good-bye,” replied the princess.
They walked carefully through the china country. The little animals and all the people scampered out of their way, fearing the strangers would break them, and after an hour or so the travellers reached the other side of the country and came to another china wall.
It was not as high as the first, however, and by standing upon the Lion’s back they all managed to scramble to the top. Then the Lion gathered his legs under him and jumped on the wall; but just as he jumped, he upset a china church with his tail and smashed it all to pieces.
“That was too bad,” said Dorothy, “but really I think we were lucky in not doing these little people more harm than breaking a cow’s leg and a church. They are all so brittle!”
“They are, indeed,” said the Scarecrow, “and I am thankful I am made of straw and cannot be easily damaged. There are worse things in the world than being a Scarecrow.”
Chapter XXI.
The Lion Becomes
the King of Beasts.
AFTER CLIMBING DOWN from the china wall the travellers found themselves in a disagreeable country, full of bogs and marshes and covered with tall, rank grass. It was difficult to walk far without falling into muddy holes, for the grass was so thick that it hid them from sight. However, by carefully picking their way, they got safely along until they reached solid ground. But here the country seemed wilder than ever, and after a long and tiresome walk through the underbrush they entered another forest, where the trees were bigger and older than any they had ever seen.
“This forest is perfectly delightful,” declared the Lion, looking around him with joy; “never have I seen a more beautiful place.”
“It seems gloomy,” said the Scarecrow.
“Not a bit of it,” answered the Lion; “I should like to live here all my life. See how soft the dried leaves are under your feet and how rich and green the moss is that clings to these old trees. Surely no wild beast could wish a pleasanter home.”