The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
by
L. Frank Baum
Part 1 out of 3
by L. Frank Baum
Contents
--Introduction--
1. The Cyclone
2. The Council with the Munchkins
3. How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow
4. The Road Through the Forest
5. The Rescue of the Tin Woodman
6. The Cowardly Lion
7. The Journey to the Great Oz
8. The Deadly Poppy Field
9. The Queen of the Field Mice
10. The Guardian of the Gates
11. The Emerald City of Oz
12. The Search for the Wicked Witch
13. The Rescue
14. The Winged Monkeys
15. The Discovery of Oz the Terrible
16. The Magic Art of the Great Humbug
17. How the Balloon Was Launched
18. Away to the South
19. Attacked by the Fighting Trees
20. The Dainty China Country
21. The Lion Becomes the King of Beasts
22. The Country of the Quadlings
23. Glinda The Good Witch Grants Dorothy's Wish
24. Home Again
Introduction
Folklore, legends, myths and fairy tales have followed childhood
through the ages, for every healthy youngster has a wholesome and
instinctive love for stories fantastic, marvelous and manifestly unreal.
The winged fairies of Grimm and Andersen have brought more happiness to
childish hearts than all other human creations.
Yet the old time fairy tale, having served for generations,
may now be classed as "historical" in the children's library; for
the time has come for a series of newer "wonder tales" in which
the stereotyped genie, dwarf and fairy are eliminated, together
with all the horrible and blood-curdling incidents devised by
their authors to point a fearsome moral to each tale. Modern
education includes morality; therefore the modern child seeks only
entertainment in its wonder tales and gladly dispenses with all
disagreeable incident.
Having this thought in mind, the story of "The Wonderful
Wizard of Oz" was written solely to please children of today. It
aspires to being a modernized fairy tale, in which the wonderment
and joy are retained and the heartaches and nightmares are left out.
L. Frank Baum
Chicago, April, 1900.
THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ
1. The Cyclone
Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies, with
Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer's
wife. Their house was small, for the lumber to build it had to be
carried by wagon many miles. There were four walls, a floor and a
roof, which made one room; and this room contained a rusty looking
cookstove, a cupboard for the dishes, a table, three or four
chairs, and the beds. Uncle Henry and Aunt Em had a big bed in
one corner, and Dorothy a little bed in another corner. There was
no garret at all, and no cellar--except a small hole dug in the
ground, called a cyclone cellar, where the family could go in case
one of those great whirlwinds arose, mighty enough to crush any
building in its path. It was reached by a trap door in the middle
of the floor, from which a ladder led down into the small, dark hole.
When Dorothy stood in the doorway and looked around, she could
see nothing but the great gray prairie on every side. Not a tree
nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached to
the edge of the sky in all directions. The sun had baked the
plowed land into a gray mass, with little cracks running through it.
Even the grass was not green, for the sun had burned the tops of
the long blades until they were the same gray color to be seen
everywhere. Once the house had been painted, but the sun
blistered the paint and the rains washed it away, and now the
house was as dull and gray as everything else.
When Aunt Em came there to live she was a young, pretty wife.
The sun and wind had changed her, too. They had taken the sparkle
from her eyes and left them a sober gray; they had taken the red
from her cheeks and lips, and they were gray also. She was thin
and gaunt, and never smiled now. When Dorothy, who was an orphan,
first came to her, Aunt Em had been so startled by the child's
laughter that she would scream and press her hand upon her heart
whenever Dorothy's merry voice reached her ears; and she still
looked at the little girl with wonder that she could find anything
to laugh at.
Uncle Henry never laughed. He worked hard from morning till
night and did not know what joy was. He was gray also, from his
long beard to his rough boots, and he looked stern and solemn,
and rarely spoke.
It was Toto that made Dorothy laugh, and saved her from
growing as gray as her other surroundings. Toto was not gray; he
was a little black dog, with long silky hair and small black eyes
that twinkled merrily on either side of his funny, wee nose. Toto
played all day long, and Dorothy played with him, and loved him dearly.
Today, however, they were not playing. Uncle Henry sat upon
the doorstep and looked anxiously at the sky, which was even
grayer than usual. Dorothy stood in the door with Toto in her
arms, and looked at the sky too. Aunt Em was washing the dishes.
From the far north they heard a low wail of the wind, and
Uncle Henry and Dorothy could see where the long grass bowed in
waves before the coming storm. There now came a sharp whistling
in the air from the south, and as they turned their eyes that way
they saw ripples in the grass coming from that direction also.
Suddenly Uncle Henry stood up.
"There's a cyclone coming, Em," he called to his wife. "I'll
go look after the stock." Then he ran toward the sheds where the
cows and horses were kept.
Aunt Em dropped her work and came to the door. One glance
told her of the danger close at hand.
"Quick, Dorothy!" she screamed. "Run for the cellar!"
Toto jumped out of Dorothy's arms and hid under the bed, and
the girl started to get him. Aunt Em, badly frightened, threw
open the trap door in the floor and climbed down the ladder into
the small, dark hole. Dorothy caught Toto at last and started to
follow her aunt. When she was halfway across the room there came
a great shriek from the wind, and the house shook so hard that she
lost her footing and sat down suddenly upon the floor.
Then a strange thing happened.
The house whirled around two or three times and rose slowly
through the air. Dorothy felt as if she were going up in a balloon.
The north and south winds met where the house stood, and made
it the exact center of the cyclone. In the middle of a cyclone
the air is generally still, but the great pressure of the wind on
every side of the house raised it up higher and higher, until it
was at the very top of the cyclone; and there it remained and was
carried miles and miles away as easily as you could carry a feather.
It was very dark, and the wind howled horribly around her,
but Dorothy found she was riding quite easily. After the first
few whirls around, and one other time when the house tipped badly,
she felt as if she were being rocked gently, like a baby in a cradle.
Toto did not like it. He ran about the room, now here, now
there, barking loudly; but Dorothy sat quite still on the floor
and waited to see what would happen.
Once Toto got too near the open trap door, and fell in; and at
first the little girl thought she had lost him. But soon she saw
one of his ears sticking up through the hole, for the strong
pressure of the air was keeping him up so that he could not fall.
She crept to the hole, caught Toto by the ear, and dragged him
into the room again, afterward closing the trap door so that no
more accidents could happen.
Hour after hour passed away, and slowly Dorothy got over her
fright; but she felt quite lonely, and the wind shrieked so loudly
all about her that she nearly became deaf. At first she had
wondered if she would be dashed to pieces when the house fell again;
but as the hours passed and nothing terrible happened, she stopped
worrying and resolved to wait calmly and see what the future would bring.
At last she crawled over the swaying floor to her bed, and lay down upon it;
and Toto followed and lay down beside her.
In spite of the swaying of the house and the wailing of the
wind, Dorothy soon closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.
2. The Council with the Munchkins
She was awakened by a shock, so sudden and severe that if
Dorothy had not been lying on the soft bed she might have been hurt.
As it was, the jar made her catch her breath and wonder what had happened;
and Toto put his cold little nose into her face and whined dismally.
Dorothy sat up and noticed that the house was not moving; nor was it dark,
for the bright sunshine came in at the window, flooding the little room.
She sprang from her bed and with Toto at her heels ran and opened the door.
The little girl gave a cry of amazement and looked about her,
her eyes growing bigger and bigger at the wonderful sights she saw.
The cyclone had set the house down very gently--for a
cyclone--in the midst of a country of marvelous beauty. There
were lovely patches of greensward all about, with stately trees
bearing rich and luscious fruits. Banks of gorgeous flowers were
on every hand, and birds with rare and brilliant plumage sang and
fluttered in the trees and bushes. A little way off was a small
brook, rushing and sparkling along between green banks, and
murmuring in a voice very grateful to a little girl who had lived
so long on the dry, gray prairies.
While she stood looking eagerly at the strange and beautiful
sights, she noticed coming toward her a group of the queerest
people she had ever seen. They were not as big as the grown
folk she had always been used to; but neither were they very small.
In fact, they seemed about as tall as Dorothy, who was a well-grown
child for her age, although they were, so far as looks go, many
years older.
Three were men and one a woman, and all were oddly dressed.
They wore round hats that rose to a small point a foot above their
heads, with little bells around the brims that tinkled sweetly as
they moved. The hats of the men were blue; the little woman's hat
was white, and she wore a white gown that hung in pleats from her
shoulders. Over it were sprinkled little stars that glistened in
the sun like diamonds. The men were dressed in blue, of the same
shade as their hats, and wore well-polished boots with a deep roll
of blue at the tops. The men, Dorothy thought, were about as old
as Uncle Henry, for two of them had beards. But the little woman
was doubtless much older. Her face was covered with wrinkles, her
hair was nearly white, and she walked rather stiffly.
When these people drew near the house where Dorothy was
standing in the doorway, they paused and whispered among themselves,
as if afraid to come farther. But the little old woman walked up
to Dorothy, made a low bow and said, in a sweet voice:
"You are welcome, most noble Sorceress, to the land of the Munchkins.
We are so grateful to you for having killed the Wicked Witch of the East,
and for setting our people free from bondage."
Dorothy listened to this speech with wonder. What could the
little woman possibly mean by calling her a sorceress, and saying
she had killed the Wicked Witch of the East? Dorothy was an innocent,
harmless little girl, who had been carried by a cyclone many miles from home;
and she had never killed anything in all her life.
But the little woman evidently expected her to answer; so Dorothy said,
with hesitation, "You are very kind, but there must be some mistake.
I have not killed anything."
"Your house did, anyway," replied the little old woman, with a
laugh, "and that is the same thing. See!" she continued, pointing
to the corner of the house. "There are her two feet, still sticking
out from under a block of wood."
Dorothy looked, and gave a little cry of fright. There, indeed,
just under the corner of the great beam the house rested on, two feet
were sticking out, shod in silver shoes with pointed toes.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" cried Dorothy, clasping her hands together
in dismay. "The house must have fallen on her. Whatever shall we do?"
"There is nothing to be done," said the little woman calmly.
"But who was she?" asked Dorothy.
"She was the Wicked Witch of the East, as I said," answered
the little woman. "She has held all the Munchkins in bondage for
many years, making them slave for her night and day. Now they are
all set free, and are grateful to you for the favor."
"Who are the Munchkins?" inquired Dorothy.
"They are the people who live in this land of the East
where the Wicked Witch ruled."
"Are you a Munchkin?" asked Dorothy.
"No, but I am their friend, although I live in the land of the
North. When they saw the Witch of the East was dead the Munchkins
sent a swift messenger to me, and I came at once. I am the Witch
of the North."
"Oh, gracious!" cried Dorothy. "Are you a real witch?"
"Yes, indeed," answered the little woman. "But I am a good witch,
and the people love me. I am not as powerful as the Wicked Witch was
who ruled here, or I should have set the people free myself."
"But I thought all witches were wicked," said the girl, who
was half frightened at facing a real witch. "Oh, no, that is a
great mistake. There were only four witches in all the Land of
Oz, and two of them, those who live in the North and the South,
are good witches. I know this is true, for I am one of them
myself, and cannot be mistaken. Those who dwelt in the East and
the West were, indeed, wicked witches; but now that you have
killed one of them, there is but one Wicked Witch in all the Land
of Oz--the one who lives in the West."
"But," said Dorothy, after a moment's thought, "Aunt Em has
told me that the witches were all dead--years and years ago."
"Who is Aunt Em?" inquired the little old woman.
"She is my aunt who lives in Kansas, where I came from."
The Witch of the North seemed to think for a time, with her
head bowed and her eyes upon the ground. Then she looked up and
said, "I do not know where Kansas is, for I have never heard that
country mentioned before. But tell me, is it a civilized country?"
"Oh, yes," replied Dorothy.
"Then that accounts for it. In the civilized countries I
believe there are no witches left, nor wizards, nor sorceresses,
nor magicians. But, you see, the Land of Oz has never been
civilized, for we are cut off from all the rest of the world.
Therefore we still have witches and wizards amongst us."
"Who are the wizards?" asked Dorothy.
"Oz himself is the Great Wizard," answered the Witch, sinking
her voice to a whisper. "He is more powerful than all the rest of
us together. He lives in the City of Emeralds."
Dorothy was going to ask another question, but just then the
Munchkins, who had been standing silently by, gave a loud shout and
pointed to the corner of the house where the Wicked Witch had been lying.
"What is it?" asked the little old woman, and looked, and
began to laugh. The feet of the dead Witch had disappeared
entirely, and nothing was left but the silver shoes.
"She was so old," explained the Witch of the North, "that she
dried up quickly in the sun. That is the end of her. But the
silver shoes are yours, and you shall have them to wear."
She reached down and picked up the shoes, and after shaking
the dust out of them handed them to Dorothy.
"The Witch of the East was proud of those silver shoes," said
one of the Munchkins, "and there is some charm connected with them;
but what it is we never knew."
Dorothy carried the shoes into the house and placed them on
the table. Then she came out again to the Munchkins and said:
"I am anxious to get back to my aunt and uncle, for I am sure
they will worry about me. Can you help me find my way?"
The Munchkins and the Witch first looked at one another, and
then at Dorothy, and then shook their heads.
"At the East, not far from here," said one, "there is a great
desert, and none could live to cross it."
"It is the same at the South," said another, "for I have been
there and seen it. The South is the country of the Quadlings."
"I am told," said the third man, "that it is the same at the West.
And that country, where the Winkies live, is ruled by the Wicked Witch
of the West, who would make you her slave if you passed her way."
"The North is my home," said the old lady, "and at its edge is
the same great desert that surrounds this Land of Oz. I'm afraid,
my dear, you will have to live with us."
Dorothy began to sob at this, for she felt lonely among all
these strange people. Her tears seemed to grieve the kind-hearted
Munchkins, for they immediately took out their handkerchiefs and
began to weep also. As for the little old woman, she took off her
cap and balanced the point on the end of her nose, while she
counted "One, two, three" in a solemn voice. At once the cap
changed to a slate, on which was written in big, white chalk marks:
"LET DOROTHY GO TO THE CITY OF EMERALDS"
The little old woman took the slate from her nose, and having
read the words on it, asked, "Is your name Dorothy, my dear?"
"Yes," answered the child, looking up and drying her tears.
"Then you must go to the City of Emeralds. Perhaps Oz will help you."
"Where is this city?" asked Dorothy.
"It is exactly in the center of the country, and is ruled by Oz,
the Great Wizard I told you of."
"Is he a good man?" inquired the girl anxiously.
"He is a good Wizard. Whether he is a man or not I cannot tell,
for I have never seen him."
"How can I get there?" asked Dorothy.
"You must walk. It is a long journey, through a country that
is sometimes pleasant and sometimes dark and terrible. However,
I will use all the magic arts I know of to keep you from harm."
"Won't you go with me?" pleaded the girl, who had begun to
look upon the little old woman as her only friend.
"No, I cannot do that," she replied, "but I will give you my
kiss, and no one will dare injure a person who has been kissed by
the Witch of the North."
She came close to Dorothy and kissed her gently on the
forehead. Where her lips touched the girl they left a round,
shining mark, as Dorothy found out soon after.
"The road to the City of Emeralds is paved with yellow brick,"
said the Witch, "so you cannot miss it. When you get to Oz do not
be afraid of him, but tell your story and ask him to help you.
Good-bye, my dear."
The three Munchkins bowed low to her and wished her a pleasant
journey, after which they walked away through the trees. The Witch
gave Dorothy a friendly little nod, whirled around on her left heel
three times, and straightway disappeared, much to the surprise of
little Toto, who barked after her loudly enough when she had gone,
because he had been afraid even to growl while she stood by.
But Dorothy, knowing her to be a witch, had expected her to
disappear in just that way, and was not surprised in the least.
3. How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow
When Dorothy was left alone she began to feel hungry. So she
went to the cupboard and cut herself some bread, which she spread
with butter. She gave some to Toto, and taking a pail from the
shelf she carried it down to the little brook and filled it with
clear, sparkling water. Toto ran over to the trees and began to
bark at the birds sitting there. Dorothy went to get him, and saw
such delicious fruit hanging from the branches that she gathered
some of it, finding it just what she wanted to help out her breakfast.
Then she went back to the house, and having helped herself and
Toto to a good drink of the cool, clear water, she set about
making ready for the journey to the City of Emeralds.
Dorothy had only one other dress, but that happened to be
clean and was hanging on a peg beside her bed. It was gingham,
with checks of white and blue; and although the blue was somewhat
faded with many washings, it was still a pretty frock. The girl
washed herself carefully, dressed herself in the clean gingham,
and tied her pink sunbonnet on her head. She took a little basket
and filled it with bread from the cupboard, laying a white cloth
over the top. Then she looked down at her feet and noticed how
old and worn her shoes were.
"They surely will never do for a long journey, Toto," she said.
And Toto looked up into her face with his little black eyes and wagged
his tail to show he knew what she meant.
At that moment Dorothy saw lying on the table the silver shoes
that had belonged to the Witch of the East.
"I wonder if they will fit me," she said to Toto. "They would be
just the thing to take a long walk in, for they could not wear out."
She took off her old leather shoes and tried on the silver
ones, which fitted her as well as if they had been made for her.
Finally she picked up her basket.
"Come along, Toto," she said. "We will go to the Emerald City
and ask the Great Oz how to get back to Kansas again."
She closed the door, locked it, and put the key carefully in
the pocket of her dress. And so, with Toto trotting along soberly
behind her, she started on her journey.
There were several roads near by, but it did not take her long
to find the one paved with yellow bricks. Within a short time she
was walking briskly toward the Emerald City, her silver shoes
tinkling merrily on the hard, yellow road-bed. The sun shone
bright and the birds sang sweetly, and Dorothy did not feel
nearly so bad as you might think a little girl would who had
been suddenly whisked away from her own country and set down
in the midst of a strange land.
She was surprised, as she walked along, to see how pretty the
country was about her. There were neat fences at the sides of the
road, painted a dainty blue color, and beyond them were fields of
grain and vegetables in abundance. Evidently the Munchkins were
good farmers and able to raise large crops. Once in a while she
would pass a house, and the people came out to look at her and bow
low as she went by; for everyone knew she had been the means of
destroying the Wicked Witch and setting them free from bondage.
The houses of the Munchkins were odd-looking dwellings, for each
was round, with a big dome for a roof. All were painted blue,
for in this country of the East blue was the favorite color.
Toward evening, when Dorothy was tired with her long walk and
began to wonder where she should pass the night, she came to a
house rather larger than the rest. On the green lawn before it
many men and women were dancing. Five little fiddlers played as
loudly as possible, and the people were laughing and singing,
while a big table near by was loaded with delicious fruits and
nuts, pies and cakes, and many other good things to eat.
The people greeted Dorothy kindly, and invited her to supper and
to pass the night with them; for this was the home of one of the
richest Munchkins in the land, and his friends were gathered with
him to celebrate their freedom from the bondage of the Wicked Witch.
Dorothy ate a hearty supper and was waited upon by the rich
Munchkin himself, whose name was Boq. Then she sat upon a settee
and watched the people dance.
When Boq saw her silver shoes he said, "You must be a great sorceress."
"Why?" asked the girl.
"Because you wear silver shoes and have killed the Wicked Witch.
Besides, you have white in your frock, and only witches and sorceresses
wear white."
"My dress is blue and white checked," said Dorothy, smoothing
out the wrinkles in it.
"It is kind of you to wear that," said Boq. "Blue is the
color of the Munchkins, and white is the witch color. So we know
you are a friendly witch."
Dorothy did not know what to say to this, for all the people
seemed to think her a witch, and she knew very well she was only
an ordinary little girl who had come by the chance of a cyclone
into a strange land.
When she had tired watching the dancing, Boq led her into
the house, where he gave her a room with a pretty bed in it.
The sheets were made of blue cloth, and Dorothy slept soundly in
them till morning, with Toto curled up on the blue rug beside her.
She ate a hearty breakfast, and watched a wee Munchkin baby,
who played with Toto and pulled his tail and crowed and laughed in
a way that greatly amused Dorothy. Toto was a fine curiosity to
all the people, for they had never seen a dog before.
"How far is it to the Emerald City?" the girl asked.
"I do not know," answered Boq gravely, "for I have never been
there. It is better for people to keep away from Oz, unless they
have business with him. But it is a long way to the Emerald City,
and it will take you many days. The country here is rich and
pleasant, but you must pass through rough and dangerous places
before you reach the end of your journey."
This worried Dorothy a little, but she knew that only the
Great Oz could help her get to Kansas again, so she bravely
resolved not to turn back.
She bade her friends good-bye, and again started along the road
of yellow brick. When she had gone several miles she thought she
would stop to rest, and so climbed to the top of the fence beside
the road and sat down. There was a great cornfield beyond the fence,
and not far away she saw a Scarecrow, placed high on a pole to keep
the birds from the ripe corn.
Dorothy leaned her chin upon her hand and gazed thoughtfully
at the Scarecrow. Its head was a small sack stuffed with straw,
with eyes, nose, and mouth painted on it to represent a face.
An old, pointed blue hat, that had belonged to some Munchkin,
was perched on his head, and the rest of the figure was a blue suit
of clothes, worn and faded, which had also been stuffed with straw.
On the feet were some old boots with blue tops, such as every man
wore in this country, and the figure was raised above the stalks
of corn by means of the pole stuck up its back.
While Dorothy was looking earnestly into the queer, painted
face of the Scarecrow, she was surprised to see one of the eyes
slowly wink at her. She thought she must have been mistaken at first,
for none of the scarecrows in Kansas ever wink; but presently the
figure nodded its head to her in a friendly way. Then she climbed
down from the fence and walked up to it, while Toto ran around the
pole and barked.
"Good day," said the Scarecrow, in a rather husky voice.
"Did you speak?" asked the girl, in wonder.
"Certainly," answered the Scarecrow. "How do you do?"
"I'm pretty well, thank you," replied Dorothy politely.
"How do you do?"
"I'm not feeling well," said the Scarecrow, with a smile,
"for it is very tedious being perched up here night and day to
scare away crows."
"Can't you get down?" asked Dorothy.
"No, for this pole is stuck up my back. If you will please
take away the pole I shall be greatly obliged to you."
Dorothy reached up both arms and lifted the figure off the pole,
for, being stuffed with straw, it was quite light.
"Thank you very much," said the Scarecrow, when he had been
set down on the ground. "I feel like a new man."
Dorothy was puzzled at this, for it sounded queer to hear a
stuffed man speak, and to see him bow and walk along beside her.
"Who are you?" asked the Scarecrow when he had stretched
himself and yawned. "And where are you going?"
"My name is Dorothy," said the girl, "and I am going to the
Emerald City, to ask the Great Oz to send me back to Kansas."
"Where is the Emerald City?" he inquired. "And who is Oz?"
"Why, don't you know?" she returned, in surprise.
"No, indeed. I don't know anything. You see, I am stuffed,
so I have no brains at all," he answered sadly.
"Oh," said Dorothy, "I'm awfully sorry for you."
"Do you think," he asked, "if I go to the Emerald City with you,
that Oz would give me some brains?"
"I cannot tell," she returned, "but you may come with me,
if you like. If Oz will not give you any brains you will be
no worse off than you are now."
"That is true," said the Scarecrow. "You see," he continued
confidentially, "I don't mind my legs and arms and body being
stuffed, because I cannot get hurt. If anyone treads on my toes
or sticks a pin into me, it doesn't matter, for I can't feel it.
But I do not want people to call me a fool, and if my head stays
stuffed with straw instead of with brains, as yours is, how am I
ever to know anything?"
"I understand how you feel," said the little girl, who was
truly sorry for him. "If you will come with me I'll ask Oz to
do all he can for you."
"Thank you," he answered gratefully.
They walked back to the road. Dorothy helped him over the
fence, and they started along the path of yellow brick for the
Emerald City.
Toto did not like this addition to the party at first.
He smelled around the stuffed man as if he suspected there
might be a nest of rats in the straw, and he often growled
in an unfriendly way at the Scarecrow.
"Don't mind Toto," said Dorothy to her new friend.
"He never bites."
"Oh, I'm not afraid," replied the Scarecrow. "He can't hurt
the straw. Do let me carry that basket for you. I shall not mind
it, for I can't get tired. I'll tell you a secret," he continued,
as he walked along. "There is only one thing in the world I am
afraid of."
"What is that?" asked Dorothy; "the Munchkin farmer who made you?"
"No," answered the Scarecrow; "it's a lighted match."
4. The Road Through the Forest
After a few hours the road began to be rough, and the walking
grew so difficult that the Scarecrow often stumbled over the
yellow bricks, which were here very uneven. Sometimes, indeed,
they were broken or missing altogether, leaving holes that Toto
jumped across and Dorothy walked around. As for the Scarecrow,
having no brains, he walked straight ahead, and so stepped into
the holes and fell at full length on the hard bricks. It never hurt
him, however, and Dorothy would pick him up and set him upon his
feet again, while he joined her in laughing merrily at his own mishap.
The farms were not nearly so well cared for here as they were
farther back. There were fewer houses and fewer fruit trees, and
the farther they went the more dismal and lonesome the country became.
At noon they sat down by the roadside, near a little brook,
and Dorothy opened her basket and got out some bread. She offered
a piece to the Scarecrow, but he refused.
"I am never hungry," he said, "and it is a lucky thing I am not,
for my mouth is only painted, and if I should cut a hole in it so
I could eat, the straw I am stuffed with would come out, and that
would spoil the shape of my head."
Dorothy saw at once that this was true, so she only nodded and
went on eating her bread.
"Tell me something about yourself and the country you came from,"
said the Scarecrow, when she had finished her dinner. So she told him
all about Kansas, and how gray everything was there, and how the cyclone
had carried her to this queer Land of Oz.
The Scarecrow listened carefully, and said, "I cannot
understand why you should wish to leave this beautiful country and
go back to the dry, gray place you call Kansas."
"That is because you have no brains" answered the girl.
"No matter how dreary and gray our homes are, we people of
flesh and blood would rather live there than in any other country,
be it ever so beautiful. There is no place like home."
The Scarecrow sighed.
"Of course I cannot understand it," he said. "If your heads
were stuffed with straw, like mine, you would probably all live in
the beautiful places, and then Kansas would have no people at all.
It is fortunate for Kansas that you have brains."
"Won't you tell me a story, while we are resting?" asked the child.
The Scarecrow looked at her reproachfully, and answered:
"My life has been so short that I really know nothing whatever.
I was only made day before yesterday. What happened in the world
before that time is all unknown to me. Luckily, when the farmer
made my head, one of the first things he did was to paint my ears,
so that I heard what was going on. There was another Munchkin with him,
and the first thing I heard was the farmer saying, `How do you like
those ears?'
"`They aren't straight,'" answered the other.
"`Never mind,'" said the farmer. "`They are ears just the same,'"
which was true enough.
"`Now I'll make the eyes,'" said the farmer. So he painted my
right eye, and as soon as it was finished I found myself looking
at him and at everything around me with a great deal of curiosity,
for this was my first glimpse of the world.
"`That's a rather pretty eye,'" remarked the Munchkin who was
watching the farmer. "`Blue paint is just the color for eyes.'
"`I think I'll make the other a little bigger,'" said the
farmer. And when the second eye was done I could see much better
than before. Then he made my nose and my mouth. But I did not
speak, because at that time I didn't know what a mouth was for.
I had the fun of watching them make my body and my arms and legs;
and when they fastened on my head, at last, I felt very proud,
for I thought I was just as good a man as anyone.
"`This fellow will scare the crows fast enough,' said the
farmer. `He looks just like a man.'
"`Why, he is a man,' said the other, and I quite agreed with him.
The farmer carried me under his arm to the cornfield, and set me up
on a tall stick, where you found me. He and his friend soon after
walked away and left me alone.
"I did not like to be deserted this way. So I tried to walk
after them. But my feet would not touch the ground, and I was
forced to stay on that pole. It was a lonely life to lead, for I
had nothing to think of, having been made such a little while before.
Many crows and other birds flew into the cornfield, but as soon as
they saw me they flew away again, thinking I was a Munchkin; and this
pleased me and made me feel that I was quite an important person.
By and by an old crow flew near me, and after looking at me carefully
he perched upon my shoulder and said:
"`I wonder if that farmer thought to fool me in this clumsy
manner. Any crow of sense could see that you are only stuffed
with straw.' Then he hopped down at my feet and ate all the corn
he wanted. The other birds, seeing he was not harmed by me, came
to eat the corn too, so in a short time there was a great flock of
them about me.
"I felt sad at this, for it showed I was not such a good
Scarecrow after all; but the old crow comforted me, saying,
`If you only had brains in your head you would be as good a man
as any of them, and a better man than some of them. Brains are
the only things worth having in this world, no matter whether one
is a crow or a man.'
"After the crows had gone I thought this over, and decided I
would try hard to get some brains. By good luck you came along
and pulled me off the stake, and from what you say I am sure the
Great Oz will give me brains as soon as we get to the Emerald City."
"I hope so," said Dorothy earnestly, "since you seem anxious
to have them."
"Oh, yes; I am anxious," returned the Scarecrow. "It is such
an uncomfortable feeling to know one is a fool."
"Well," said the girl, "let us go." And she handed the basket
to the Scarecrow.
There were no fences at all by the roadside now, and the land
was rough and untilled. Toward evening they came to a great
forest, where the trees grew so big and close together that their
branches met over the road of yellow brick. It was almost dark
under the trees, for the branches shut out the daylight; but the
travelers did not stop, and went on into the forest.
"If this road goes in, it must come out," said the Scarecrow,
"and as the Emerald City is at the other end of the road, we must
go wherever it leads us."
"Anyone would know that," said Dorothy.
"Certainly; that is why I know it," returned the Scarecrow.
"If it required brains to figure it out, I never should have said it."
After an hour or so the light faded away, and they found
themselves stumbling along in the darkness. Dorothy could not see
at all, but Toto could, for some dogs see very well in the dark;
and the Scarecrow declared he could see as well as by day. So she
took hold of his arm and managed to get along fairly well.
"If you see any house, or any place where we can pass the
night," she said, "you must tell me; for it is very uncomfortable
walking in the dark."
Soon after the Scarecrow stopped.
"I see a little cottage at the right of us," he said,
"built of logs and branches. Shall we go there?"
"Yes, indeed," answered the child. "I am all tired out."
So the Scarecrow led her through the trees until they reached
the cottage, and Dorothy entered and found a bed of dried leaves
in one corner. She lay down at once, and with Toto beside her
soon fell into a sound sleep. The Scarecrow, who was never tired,
stood up in another corner and waited patiently until morning came.
5. The Rescue of the Tin Woodman
When Dorothy awoke the sun was shining through the trees and
Toto had long been out chasing birds around him and squirrels.
She sat up and looked around her. Scarecrow, still standing
patiently in his corner, waiting for her.
"We must go and search for water," she said to him.
"Why do you want water?" he asked.
"To wash my face clean after the dust of the road, and to
drink, so the dry bread will not stick in my throat."
"It must be inconvenient to be made of flesh," said the
Scarecrow thoughtfully, "for you must sleep, and eat and drink.
However, you have brains, and it is worth a lot of bother to be
able to think properly."
They left the cottage and walked through the trees until they
found a little spring of clear water, where Dorothy drank and
bathed and ate her breakfast. She saw there was not much bread
left in the basket, and the girl was thankful the Scarecrow did
not have to eat anything, for there was scarcely enough for
herself and Toto for the day.
When she had finished her meal, and was about to go back to the
road of yellow brick, she was startled to hear a deep groan near by.
"What was that?" she asked timidly.
"I cannot imagine," replied the Scarecrow; "but we can go and see."
Just then another groan reached their ears, and the sound
seemed to come from behind them. They turned and walked through
the forest a few steps, when Dorothy discovered something shining
in a ray of sunshine that fell between the trees. She ran to the
place and then stopped short, with a little cry of surprise.
One of the big trees had been partly chopped through, and
standing beside it, with an uplifted axe in his hands, was a man
made entirely of tin. His head and arms and legs were jointed
upon his body, but he stood perfectly motionless, as if he could
not stir at all.
Dorothy looked at him in amazement, and so did the Scarecrow,
while Toto barked sharply and made a snap at the tin legs, which
hurt his teeth.
"Did you groan?" asked Dorothy.
"Yes," answered the tin man, "I did. I've been groaning for more
than a year, and no one has ever heard me before or come to help me."
"What can I do for you?" she inquired softly, for she was
moved by the sad voice in which the man spoke.
"Get an oil-can and oil my joints," he answered. "They are
rusted so badly that I cannot move them at all; if I am well oiled
I shall soon be all right again. You will find an oil-can on a
shelf in my cottage."
Dorothy at once ran back to the cottage and found the oil-can,
and then she returned and asked anxiously, "Where are your joints?"
"Oil my neck, first," replied the Tin Woodman. So she oiled it,
and as it was quite badly rusted the Scarecrow took hold of the tin
head and moved it gently from side to side until it worked freely,
and then the man could turn it himself.
"Now oil the joints in my arms," he said. And Dorothy oiled
them and the Scarecrow bent them carefully until they were quite
free from rust and as good as new.
The Tin Woodman gave a sigh of satisfaction and lowered his
axe, which he leaned against the tree.
"This is a great comfort," he said. "I have been holding that
axe in the air ever since I rusted, and I'm glad to be able to put
it down at last. Now, if you will oil the joints of my legs, I
shall be all right once more."
So they oiled his legs until he could move them freely; and he
thanked them again and again for his release, for he seemed a very
polite creature, and very grateful.
"I might have stood there always if you had not come along," he said;
"so you have certainly saved my life. How did you happen to be here?"
"We are on our way to the Emerald City to see the Great Oz,"
she answered, "and we stopped at your cottage to pass the night."
"Why do you wish to see Oz?" he asked.
"I want him to send me back to Kansas, and the Scarecrow wants
him to put a few brains into his head," she replied.
The Tin Woodman appeared to think deeply for a moment. Then he said:
"Do you suppose Oz could give me a heart?"
"Why, I guess so," Dorothy answered. "It would be as easy as
to give the Scarecrow brains."
"True," the Tin Woodman returned. "So, if you will allow me
to join your party, I will also go to the Emerald City and ask Oz
to help me."
"Come along," said the Scarecrow heartily, and Dorothy added
that she would be pleased to have his company. So the Tin Woodman
shouldered his axe and they all passed through the forest until
they came to the road that was paved with yellow brick.
The Tin Woodman had asked Dorothy to put the oil-can in her basket.
"For," he said, "if I should get caught in the rain, and rust again,
I would need the oil-can badly."
It was a bit of good luck to have their new comrade join the
party, for soon after they had begun their journey again they came
to a place where the trees and branches grew so thick over the
road that the travelers could not pass. But the Tin Woodman set
to work with his axe and chopped so well that soon he cleared a
passage for the entire party.
Dorothy was thinking so earnestly as they walked along that
she did not notice when the Scarecrow stumbled into a hole and
rolled over to the side of the road. Indeed he was obliged to
call to her to help him up again.
"Why didn't you walk around the hole?" asked the Tin Woodman.
"I don't know enough," replied the Scarecrow cheerfully.
"My head is stuffed with straw, you know, and that is why I am
going to Oz to ask him for some brains."
"Oh, I see," said the Tin Woodman. "But, after all, brains
are not the best things in the world."
"Have you any?" inquired the Scarecrow.
"No, my head is quite empty," answered the Woodman.
"But once I had brains, and a heart also; so, having tried
them both, I should much rather have a heart."
"And why is that?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I will tell you my story, and then you will know."
So, while they were walking through the forest, the Tin Woodman
told the following story:
"I was born the son of a woodman who chopped down trees in the
forest and sold the wood for a living. When I grew up, I too became
a woodchopper, and after my father died I took care of my old mother
as long as she lived. Then I made up my mind that instead of living
alone I would marry, so that I might not become lonely.
"There was one of the Munchkin girls who was so beautiful
that I soon grew to love her with all my heart. She, on her part,
promised to marry me as soon as I could earn enough money to
build a better house for her; so I set to work harder than ever.
But the girl lived with an old woman who did not want her to marry
anyone, for she was so lazy she wished the girl to remain with her
and do the cooking and the housework. So the old woman went to
the Wicked Witch of the East, and promised her two sheep and a cow
if she would prevent the marriage. Thereupon the Wicked Witch
enchanted my axe, and when I was chopping away at my best one day,
for I was anxious to get the new house and my wife as soon as
possible, the axe slipped all at once and cut off my left leg.
"This at first seemed a great misfortune, for I knew a
one-legged man could not do very well as a wood-chopper. So I
went to a tinsmith and had him make me a new leg out of tin. The
leg worked very well, once I was used to it. But my action
angered the Wicked Witch of the East, for she had promised the old
woman I should not marry the pretty Munchkin girl. When I began
chopping again, my axe slipped and cut off my right leg. Again I
went to the tinsmith, and again he made me a leg out of tin.
After this the enchanted axe cut off my arms, one after the
other; but, nothing daunted, I had them replaced with tin ones.
The Wicked Witch then made the axe slip and cut off my head, and
at first I thought that was the end of me. But the tinsmith
happened to come along, and he made me a new head out of tin.
"I thought I had beaten the Wicked Witch then, and I worked
harder than ever; but I little knew how cruel my enemy could be.
She thought of a new way to kill my love for the beautiful
Munchkin maiden, and made my axe slip again, so that it cut right
through my body, splitting me into two halves. Once more the
tinsmith came to my help and made me a body of tin, fastening my
tin arms and legs and head to it, by means of joints, so that I
could move around as well as ever. But, alas! I had now no
heart, so that I lost all my love for the Munchkin girl, and did
not care whether I married her or not. I suppose she is still
living with the old woman, waiting for me to come after her.
"My body shone so brightly in the sun that I felt very proud
of it and it did not matter now if my axe slipped, for it could
not cut me. There was only one danger--that my joints would
rust; but I kept an oil-can in my cottage and took care to oil
myself whenever I needed it. However, there came a day when I
forgot to do this, and, being caught in a rainstorm, before I
thought of the danger my joints had rusted, and I was left to
stand in the woods until you came to help me. It was a terrible
thing to undergo, but during the year I stood there I had time to
think that the greatest loss I had known was the loss of my heart.
While I was in love I was the happiest man on earth; but no one
can love who has not a heart, and so I am resolved to ask Oz to
give me one. If he does, I will go back to the Munchkin maiden
and marry her."
Both Dorothy and the Scarecrow had been greatly interested
in the story of the Tin Woodman, and now they knew why he was so
anxious to get a new heart.
"All the same," said the Scarecrow, "I shall ask for brains
instead of a heart; for a fool would not know what to do with a
heart if he had one."
"I shall take the heart," returned the Tin Woodman; "for
brains do not make one happy, and happiness is the best thing
in the world."
Dorothy did not say anything, for she was puzzled to know
which of her two friends was right, and she decided if she could
only get back to Kansas and Aunt Em, it did not matter so much
whether the Woodman had no brains and the Scarecrow no heart,
or each got what he wanted.
What worried her most was that the bread was nearly gone, and
another meal for herself and Toto would empty the basket. To be sure
neither the Woodman nor the Scarecrow ever ate anything, but she was
not made of tin nor straw, and could not live unless she was fed.
6. The Cowardly Lion
All this time Dorothy and her companions had been walking
through the thick woods. The road was still paved with yellow
brick, but these were much covered by dried branches and dead
leaves from the trees, and the walking was not at all good.
There were few birds in this part of the forest, for birds
love the open country where there is plenty of sunshine. But now
and then there came a deep growl from some wild animal hidden
among the trees. These sounds made the little girl's heart beat
fast, for she did not know what made them; but Toto knew, and he
walked close to Dorothy's side, and did not even bark in return.
"How long will it be," the child asked of the Tin Woodman,
"before we are out of the forest?"
"I cannot tell," was the answer, "for I have never been to the
Emerald City. But my father went there once, when I was a boy,
and he said it was a long journey through a dangerous country,
although nearer to the city where Oz dwells the country is beautiful.
But I am not afraid so long as I have my oil-can, and nothing can hurt
the Scarecrow, while you bear upon your forehead the mark of the
Good Witch's kiss, and that will protect you from harm."
"But Toto!" said the girl anxiously. "What will protect him?"
"We must protect him ourselves if he is in danger," replied
the Tin Woodman.
Just as he spoke there came from the forest a terrible roar,
and the next moment a great Lion bounded into the road. With one
blow of his paw he sent the Scarecrow spinning over and over to
the edge of the road, and then he struck at the Tin Woodman with
his sharp claws. But, to the Lion's surprise, he could make no
impression on the tin, although the Woodman fell over in the road
and lay still.
Little Toto, now that he had an enemy to face, ran barking
toward the Lion, and the great beast had opened his mouth to bite
the dog, when Dorothy, fearing Toto would be killed, and heedless
of danger, rushed forward and slapped the Lion upon his nose as
hard as she could, while she cried out:
"Don't you dare to bite Toto! You ought to be ashamed of
yourself, a big beast like you, to bite a poor little dog!"
"I didn't bite him," said the Lion, as he rubbed his nose with
his paw where Dorothy had hit it.
"No, but you tried to," she retorted. "You are nothing but a
big coward."
"I know it," said the Lion, hanging his head in shame. "I've
always known it. But how can I help it?"
"I don't know, I'm sure. To think of your striking a stuffed
man, like the poor Scarecrow!"
"Is he stuffed?" asked the Lion in surprise, as he watched her
pick up the Scarecrow and set him upon his feet, while she patted
him into shape again.
"Of course he's stuffed," replied Dorothy, who was still angry.
"That's why he went over so easily," remarked the Lion.
"It astonished me to see him whirl around so. Is the other one
stuffed also?"
"No," said Dorothy, "he's made of tin." And she helped the
Woodman up again.
"That's why he nearly blunted my claws," said the Lion.
"When they scratched against the tin it made a cold shiver run
down my back. What is that little animal you are so tender of?"
"He is my dog, Toto," answered Dorothy.
"Is he made of tin, or stuffed?" asked the Lion.
"Neither. He's a--a--a meat dog," said the girl.
"Oh! He's a curious animal and seems remarkably small,
now that I look at him. No one would think of biting such a
little thing, except a coward like me," continued the Lion sadly.
"What makes you a coward?" asked Dorothy, looking at the great
beast in wonder, for he was as big as a small horse.
"It's a mystery," replied the Lion. "I suppose I was born
that way. All the other animals in the forest naturally expect me
to be brave, for the Lion is everywhere thought to be the King of
Beasts. I learned that if I roared very loudly every living thing
was frightened and got out of my way. Whenever I've met a man
I've been awfully scared; but I just roared at him, and he has
always run away as fast as he could go. If the elephants and the
tigers and the bears had ever tried to fight me, I should have run
myself--I'm such a coward; but just as soon as they hear me roar
they all try to get away from me, and of course I let them go."
"But that isn't right. The King of Beasts shouldn't be a coward,"
said the Scarecrow.
"I know it," returned the Lion, wiping a tear from his eye
with the tip of his tail. "It is my great sorrow, and makes my
life very unhappy. But whenever there is danger, my heart begins
to beat fast."
"Perhaps you have heart disease," said the Tin Woodman.
"It may be," said the Lion.
"If you have," continued the Tin Woodman, "you ought to be glad,
for it proves you have a heart. For my part, I have no heart; so I
cannot have heart disease."
"Perhaps," said the Lion thoughtfully, "if I had no heart I should
not be a coward."
"Have you brains?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I suppose so. I've never looked to see," replied the Lion.
"I am going to the Great Oz to ask him to give me some,"
remarked the Scarecrow, "for my head is stuffed with straw."
"And I am going to ask him to give me a heart," said the Woodman.
"And I am going to ask him to send Toto and me back to Kansas,"
added Dorothy.
"Do you think Oz could give me courage?" asked the Cowardly Lion.
"Just as easily as he could give me brains," said the Scarecrow.
"Or give me a heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"Or send me back to Kansas," said Dorothy.
"Then, if you don't mind, I'll go with you," said the Lion,
"for my life is simply unbearable without a bit of courage."
"You will be very welcome," answered Dorothy, "for you will help
to keep away the other wild beasts. It seems to me they must be more
cowardly than you are if they allow you to scare them so easily."
"They really are," said the Lion, "but that doesn't make me any braver,
and as long as I know myself to be a coward I shall be unhappy."
So once more the little company set off upon the journey, the
Lion walking with stately strides at Dorothy's side. Toto did not
approve this new comrade at first, for he could not forget how
nearly he had been crushed between the Lion's great jaws. But
after a time he became more at ease, and presently Toto and the
Cowardly Lion had grown to be good friends.
During the rest of that day there was no other adventure to
mar the peace of their journey. Once, indeed, the Tin Woodman
stepped upon a beetle that was crawling along the road, and killed
the poor little thing. This made the Tin Woodman very unhappy,
for he was always careful not to hurt any living creature; and as
he walked along he wept several tears of sorrow and regret. These
tears ran slowly down his face and over the hinges of his jaw, and
there they rusted. When Dorothy presently asked him a question
the Tin Woodman could not open his mouth, for his jaws were
tightly rusted together. He became greatly frightened at this and
made many motions to Dorothy to relieve him, but she could not
understand. The Lion was also puzzled to know what was wrong.
But the Scarecrow seized the oil-can from Dorothy's basket and
oiled the Woodman's jaws, so that after a few moments he could
talk as well as before.
"This will serve me a lesson," said he, "to look where I step.
For if I should kill another bug or beetle I should surely cry again,
and crying rusts my jaws so that I cannot speak."
Thereafter he walked very carefully, with his eyes on the road,
and when he saw a tiny ant toiling by he would step over it, so as
not to harm it. The Tin Woodman knew very well he had no heart, and
therefore he took great care never to be cruel or unkind to anything.
"You people with hearts," he said, "have something to guide you, and
need never do wrong; but I have no heart, and so I must be very careful.
When Oz gives me a heart of course I needn't mind so much."
7. The Journey to the Great Oz
They were obliged to camp out that night under a large tree in
the forest, for there were no houses near. The tree made a good,
thick covering to protect them from the dew, and the Tin Woodman
chopped a great pile of wood with his axe and Dorothy built a
splendid fire that warmed her and made her feel less lonely. She
and Toto ate the last of their bread, and now she did not know
what they would do for breakfast.
"If you wish," said the Lion, "I will go into the forest and
kill a deer for you. You can roast it by the fire, since your
tastes are so peculiar that you prefer cooked food, and then you
will have a very good breakfast."
"Don't! Please don't," begged the Tin Woodman. "I should
certainly weep if you killed a poor deer, and then my jaws would
rust again."
But the Lion went away into the forest and found his own supper,
and no one ever knew what it was, for he didn't mention it. And the
Scarecrow found a tree full of nuts and filled Dorothy's basket with them,
so that she would not be hungry for a long time. She thought this was
very kind and thoughtful of the Scarecrow, but she laughed heartily at the
awkward way in which the poor creature picked up the nuts. His padded
hands were so clumsy and the nuts were so small that he dropped almost
as many as he put in the basket. But the Scarecrow did not mind how long
it took him to fill the basket, for it enabled him to keep away from the fire,
as he feared a spark might get into his straw and burn him up. So he kept a
good distance away from the flames, and only came near to cover Dorothy with
dry leaves when she lay down to sleep. These kept her very snug and warm,
and she slept soundly until morning.
When it was daylight, the girl bathed her face in a little rippling brook,
and soon after they all started toward the Emerald City.
This was to be an eventful day for the travelers. They had
hardly been walking an hour when they saw before them a great
ditch that crossed the road and divided the forest as far as they
could see on either side. It was a very wide ditch, and when they
crept up to the edge and looked into it they could see it was also
very deep, and there were many big, jagged rocks at the bottom.
The sides were so steep that none of them could climb down, and
for a moment it seemed that their journey must end.
"What shall we do?" asked Dorothy despairingly.
"I haven't the faintest idea," said the Tin Woodman, and the
Lion shook his shaggy mane and looked thoughtful.
But the Scarecrow said, "We cannot fly, that is certain.
Neither can we climb down into this great ditch. Therefore,
if we cannot jump over it, we must stop where we are."
"I think I could jump over it," said the Cowardly Lion, after
measuring the distance carefully in his mind.
"Then we are all right," answered the Scarecrow, "for you can
carry us all over on your back, one at a time."
"Well, I'll try it," said the Lion. "Who will go first?"
"I will," declared the Scarecrow, "for, if you found that you
could not jump over the gulf, Dorothy would be killed, or the Tin
Woodman badly dented on the rocks below. But if I am on your back
it will not matter so much, for the fall would not hurt me at all."
"I am terribly afraid of falling, myself," said the Cowardly
Lion, "but I suppose there is nothing to do but try it. So get on
my back and we will make the attempt."
The Scarecrow sat upon the Lion's back, and the big beast
walked to the edge of the gulf and crouched down.
"Why don't you run and jump?" asked the Scarecrow.
"Because that isn't the way we Lions do these things," he replied.
Then giving a great spring, he shot through the air and landed safely
on the other side. They were all greatly pleased to see how easily
he did it, and after the Scarecrow had got down from his back the Lion
sprang across the ditch again.
Dorothy thought she would go next; so she took Toto in her
arms and climbed on the Lion's back, holding tightly to his mane
with one hand. The next moment it seemed as if she were flying
through the air; and then, before she had time to think about it,
she was safe on the other side. The Lion went back a third time
and got the Tin Woodman, and then they all sat down for a few
moments to give the beast a chance to rest, for his great leaps
had made his breath short, and he panted like a big dog that has
been running too long.
They found the forest very thick on this side, and it looked
dark and gloomy. After the Lion had rested they started along the
road of yellow brick, silently wondering, each in his own mind, if
ever they would come to the end of the woods and reach the bright
sunshine again. To add to their discomfort, they soon heard strange
noises in the depths of the forest, and the Lion whispered to them
that it was in this part of the country that the Kalidahs lived.
"What are the Kalidahs?" asked the girl.
"They are monstrous beasts with bodies like bears and heads
like tigers," replied the Lion, "and with claws so long and sharp
that they could tear me in two as easily as I could kill Toto.
I'm terribly afraid of the Kalidahs."
"I'm not surprised that you are," returned Dorothy.
"They must be dreadful beasts."
The Lion was about to reply when suddenly they came to another
gulf across the road. But this one was so broad and deep that the
Lion knew at once he could not leap across it.
So they sat down to consider what they should do, and after
serious thought the Scarecrow said:
"Here is a great tree, standing close to the ditch. If the
Tin Woodman can chop it down, so that it will fall to the other
side, we can walk across it easily."
"That is a first-rate idea," said the Lion. "One would almost
suspect you had brains in your head, instead of straw."
The Woodman set to work at once, and so sharp was his axe that
the tree was soon chopped nearly through. Then the Lion put his
strong front legs against the tree and pushed with all his might,
and slowly the big tree tipped and fell with a crash across the
ditch, with its top branches on the other side.
They had just started to cross this queer bridge when a sharp growl
made them all look up, and to their horror they saw running toward them
two great beasts with bodies like bears and heads like tigers.
"They are the Kalidahs!" said the Cowardly Lion, beginning to tremble.
"Quick!" cried the Scarecrow. "Let us cross over."
So Dorothy went first, holding Toto in her arms, the Tin
Woodman followed, and the Scarecrow came next. The Lion, although
he was certainly afraid, turned to face the Kalidahs, and then he
gave so loud and terrible a roar that Dorothy screamed and the
Scarecrow fell over backward, while even the fierce beasts stopped
short and looked at him in surprise.
But, seeing they were bigger than the Lion, and remembering
that there were two of them and only one of him, the Kalidahs
again rushed forward, and the Lion crossed over the tree and
turned to see what they would do next. Without stopping an
instant the fierce beasts also began to cross the tree.
And the Lion said to Dorothy:
"We are lost, for they will surely tear us to pieces with
their sharp claws. But stand close behind me, and I will fight
them as long as I am alive."
"Wait a minute!" called the Scarecrow. He had been thinking
what was best to be done, and now he asked the Woodman to chop
away the end of the tree that rested on their side of the ditch.
The Tin Woodman began to use his axe at once, and, just as the two
Kalidahs were nearly across, the tree fell with a crash into the
gulf, carrying the ugly, snarling brutes with it, and both were
dashed to pieces on the sharp rocks at the bottom.
"Well," said the Cowardly Lion, drawing a long breath of
relief, "I see we are going to live a little while longer, and I
am glad of it, for it must be a very uncomfortable thing not to be
alive. Those creatures frightened me so badly that my heart is
beating yet."
"Ah," said the Tin Woodman sadly, "I wish I had a heart to beat."
This adventure made the travelers more anxious than ever to
get out of the forest, and they walked so fast that Dorothy became
tired, and had to ride on the Lion's back. To their great joy the
trees became thinner the farther they advanced, and in the
afternoon they suddenly came upon a broad river, flowing swiftly
just before them. On the other side of the water they could see
the road of yellow brick running through a beautiful country, with
green meadows dotted with bright flowers and all the road bordered
with trees hanging full of delicious fruits. They were greatly
pleased to see this delightful country before them.
"How shall we cross the river?" asked Dorothy.
"That is easily done," replied the Scarecrow. "The Tin Woodman
must build us a raft, so we can float to the other side."
So the Woodman took his axe and began to chop down small trees
to make a raft, and while he was busy at this the Scarecrow found
on the riverbank a tree full of fine fruit. This pleased Dorothy,
who had eaten nothing but nuts all day, and she made a hearty meal
of the ripe fruit.
But it takes time to make a raft, even when one is as industrious
and untiring as the Tin Woodman, and when night came the work was not done.
So they found a cozy place under the trees where they slept well until the
morning; and Dorothy dreamed of the Emerald City, and of the good Wizard Oz,
who would soon send her back to her own home again.
8. The Deadly Poppy Field
Our little party of travelers awakened the next morning
refreshed and full of hope, and Dorothy breakfasted like a
princess off peaches and plums from the trees beside the river.
Behind them was the dark forest they had passed safely through,
although they had suffered many discouragements; but before them
was a lovely, sunny country that seemed to beckon them on to the
Emerald City.
To be sure, the broad river now cut them off from this
beautiful land. But the raft was nearly done, and after the Tin
Woodman had cut a few more logs and fastened them together with
wooden pins, they were ready to start. Dorothy sat down in the
middle of the raft and held Toto in her arms. When the Cowardly
Lion stepped upon the raft it tipped badly, for he was big and
heavy; but the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman stood upon the other
end to steady it, and they had long poles in their hands to push
the raft through the water.
They got along quite well at first, but when they reached the
middle of the river the swift current swept the raft downstream,
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. Then,
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. Then 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 riverbank 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, 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, who, upon 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 little 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 her 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 flew
into the air and was soon out of sight.
They walked along listening to the singing of the brightly
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 bright 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 of 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.
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 us 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. 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 poppy bed, 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.
9. 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 toward 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?" 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."
"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 underneath 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 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 riverside 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 curtsy, 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 were 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.
10. The Guardian of the Gate
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
little 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 travelers 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 very much afraid. The people were all dressed in clothing of
a lovely emerald-green color and wore peaked hats like those of
the Munchkins.
"This must be the Land of Oz," said Dorothy, "and we are
surely getting near the Emerald City."
"Yes," answered the Scarecrow. "Everything is green here,
while in the country of the Munchkins blue was the favorite color.
But the people do not seem to be as friendly as the Munchkins, and
I'm afraid we shall be unable to find a place to pass the night."
"I should like something to eat besides fruit," said the girl,
"and I'm sure Toto is nearly starved. Let us stop at the next
house and talk to the people."
So, when they came to a good-sized farmhouse, Dorothy walked
boldly up to the door and knocked.
A woman opened it just far enough to look out, and said,
"What do you want, child, and why is that great Lion with you?"
"We wish to pass the night with you, if you will allow us,"
answered Dorothy; "and the Lion is my friend and comrade, and
would not hurt you for the world."
"Is he tame?" asked the woman, opening the door a little wider.
"Oh, yes," said the girl, "and he is a great coward, too.
He will be more afraid of you than you are of him."
"Well," said the woman, after thinking it over and taking
another peep at the Lion, "if that is the case you may come in,
and I will give you some supper and a place to sleep."
So they all entered the house, where there were, besides the
woman, two children and a man. The man had hurt his leg, and was
lying on the couch in a corner. They seemed greatly surprised to
see so strange a company, and while the woman was busy laying the
table the man asked:
"Where are you all going?"
"To the Emerald City," said Dorothy, "to see the Great Oz."
"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed the man. "Are you sure that Oz will see you?"
"Why not?" she replied.
"Why, it is said that he never lets anyone come into his presence.
I have been to the Emerald City many times, and it is a beautiful and
wonderful place; but I have never been permitted to see the Great Oz,
nor do I know of any living person who has seen him."
"Does he never go out?" asked the Scarecrow.
"Never. He sits day after day in the great Throne Room of his
Palace, and even those who wait upon him do not see him face to face."
"What is he like?" asked the girl.
"That is hard to tell," said the man thoughtfully. "You see,
Oz is a Great Wizard, and can take on any form he wishes. So that
some say he looks like a bird; and some say he looks like an
elephant; and some say he looks like a cat. To others he appears
as a beautiful fairy, or a brownie, or in any other form that
pleases him. But who the real Oz is, when he is in his own form,
no living person can tell."
"That is very strange," said Dorothy, "but we must try, in
some way, to see him, or we shall have made our journey for nothing."
"Why do you wish to see the terrible Oz?" asked the man.
"I want him to give me some brains," said the Scarecrow eagerly.
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