The Scarecrow of Oz, Vol. 2
Date: 1914-12-31T15:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Children's Literature; Fantasy; Fairy tales
Description: The story starts quietly with Trot and Cap’n Bill rowing along the Pacific shore, when suddenly, a mighty whirlpool engulfs them. The old sailorman and the little girl are miraculously saved and regain consciousness to find themselves in a sea cavern. Then, one perilous adventure crowds in upon another. Cap’n Bill and Trot journey to Oz and, with the help of the Scarecrow, the former ruler of Oz, overthrow the villainous King Krewl of Jinxland. ~~~~~ This was purportedly Baum’s personal favorite Oz book.
Publisher: MobileRead.com
Rights: Public Domain where copyright is "Life+70" or less, and in the USA.

THE  SCARECROW
OF  OZ

BY
L. FRANK BAUM
“Royal Historian of Oz”

ILLUSTRATED BY
JOHN R. NEILL

VOLUME II

MobileRead Edition
2020

•
List of Illustrations

•
The Scarecrow of Oz:
[ VOLUME II ]

13 — Glinda the Good and the Scarecrow of Oz
14 — The Frozen Heart
15 — Trot Meets the Scarecrow
16 — Pon Summons the King to Surrender
17 — The Ork Rescues Button-Bright
18 — The Scarecrow Meets an Enemy
19 — The Conquest of the Witch
20 — Queen Gloria
21 — Dorothy, Betsy, and Ozma
22 — The Waterfall
23 — The Land of Oz
24 — The Royal Reception

•   •   •   •   •

•    When the Scarecrow descended the rope he found himself in Jinxland
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•    “Pardon me, but you are resting yourself upon my nose,” remarked the Scarecrow
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•    “Build a big bonfire and burn the Scarecrow up, and that will be the end of him!”
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•    The Orks seized the wicked woman in their claws and flew with her to the Royal Castle
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•    Blinkie the Wicked Witch

•    “But there are only places for three!’ she exclaimed
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•    Dorothy

•    Betsy

•    The next moment the Scarecrow was swept over the waterfall
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•    Button-Bright carried the boots, Trot the bundle of clothes, and Cap’n Bill the head
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•    The unusual characters of Oz

•    The peculiar animals of Oz

•   •   •   •   •

CHAPTER 13

Glinda the Good and the Scarecrow of Oz

That country south of the Emerald City, in the Land of Oz, is known as the Quadling Country, and in the very southernmost part of it stands a splendid palace in which lives Glinda the Good.

Glinda is the Royal Sorceress of Oz. She has wonderful magical powers and uses them only to benefit the subjects of Ozma’s kingdom. Even the famous Wizard of Oz pays tribute to her, for Glinda taught him all the real magic he knows, and she is his superior in all sorts of sorcery.

Everyone loves Glinda, from the dainty and exquisite Ruler, Ozma, down to the humblest inhabitant of Oz, for she is always kindly and helpful and willing to listen to their troubles, however busy she may be. No one knows her age, but all can see how beautiful and stately she is. Her hair is like red gold and finer than the finest silken strands. Her eyes are blue as the sky and always frank and smiling. Her cheeks are the envy of peach-blows and her mouth is enticing as a rosebud. Glinda is tall and wears splendid gowns that trail behind her as she walks. She wears no jewels, for her beauty would shame them.

For attendants Glinda has half a hundred of the loveliest girls in Oz. They are gathered from all over Oz, from among the Winkies, the Munchkins, the Gillikins and the Quadlings, as well as from Ozma’s magnificent Emerald City, and it is considered a great favor to be allowed to serve the Royal Sorceress.

Among the many wonderful things in Glinda’s palace is the Great Book of Records. In this book is inscribed everything that takes place in all the world, just the instant it happens; so that by referring to its pages Glinda knows what is taking place far and near, in every country that exists. In this way she learns when and where she can help any in distress or danger, and although her duties are confined to assisting those who inhabit the Land of Oz, she is always interested in what takes place in the unprotected outside world.

So it was that on a certain evening Glinda sat in her library, surrounded by a bevy of her maids, who were engaged in spinning, weaving and embroidery, when an attendant announced the arrival at the palace of the Scarecrow.

This personage was one of the most famous and popular in all the Land of Oz. His body was merely a suit of Munchkin clothes stuffed with straw, but his head was a round sack filled with bran, with which the Wizard of Oz had mixed some magic brains of a very superior sort. The eyes, nose and mouth of the Scarecrow were painted upon the front of the sack, as were his ears, and since this quaint being had been endowed with life, the expression of his face was very interesting, if somewhat comical.

The Scarecrow was good all through, even to his brains, and while he was naturally awkward in his movements and lacked the neat symmetry of other people, his disposition was so kind and considerate and he was so obliging and honest, that all who knew him loved him, and there were few people in Oz who had not met our Scarecrow and made his acquaintance.

He lived part of the time in Ozma’s palace at the Emerald City, part of the time in his own corncob castle in the Winkie Country, and part of the time he traveled over all Oz, visiting with the people and playing with the children, whom he dearly loved.

It was on one of his wandering journeys that the Scarecrow had arrived at Glinda’s palace, and the Sorceress at once made him welcome. As he sat beside her, talking of his adventures, he asked:

“What’s new in the way of news?”

Glinda opened her Great Book of Records and read some of the last pages.

“Here is an item quite curious and interesting,” she announced, an accent of surprise in her voice. “Three people from the big Outside World have arrived in Jinxland.”

“Where is Jinxland?’ inquired the Scarecrow.

“Very near here, a little to the east of us,” she said. “In fact, Jinxland is a little slice taken off the Quadling Country, but separated from it by a range of high mountains, at the foot of which lies a wide, deep gulf that is supposed to be impassable.”

“Then Jinxland is really a part of the Land of Oz,” said he.

“Yes,” returned Glinda, “but Oz people know nothing of it, except what is recorded here in my book.”

“What does the Book say about it?’ asked the Scarecrow.

“It is ruled by a wicked man called King Krewl, although he has no right to the title. Most of the people are good, but they are very timid and live in constant fear of their fierce ruler. There are also several Wicked Witches who keep the inhabitants of Jinxland in a state of terror.”

“Do those witches have any magical powers?” inquired the Scarecrow.

“Yes, they seem to understand witchcraft in its most evil form, for one of them has just transformed a respectable and honest old sailor—one of the strangers who arrived there—into a grasshopper. This same witch, Blinkie by name, is also planning to freeze the heart of a beautiful Jinxland girl named Princess Gloria.”

“Why, that’s a dreadful thing to do!” exclaimed the Scarecrow.

Glinda’s face was very grave. She read in her book how Trot and Button-Bright were turned out of the King’s castle, and how they found refuge in the hut of Pon, the gardener’s boy.

“I’m afraid those helpless earth people will endure much suffering in Jinxland, even if the wicked King and the witches permit them to live,” said the good Sorceress, thoughtfully. “I wish I might help them.”

“Can I do anything?” asked the Scarecrow, anxiously. “If so, tell me what to do, and Til do it.”

For a few moments Glinda did not reply, but sat musing over the records. Then she said: “I am going to send you to Jinxland, to protect Trot and Button-Bright and Cap’n Bill.”

“All right,” answered the Scarecrow in a cheerful voice. “I know Button-Bright already, for he has been in the Land of Oz before. You remember he went away from the Land of Oz in one of our Wizard’s big bubbles.”

“Yes,” said Glinda, “I remember that.” Then she carefully instructed the Scarecrow what to do and gave him certain magical things which he placed in the pockets of his ragged Munchkin coat.

“As you have no need to sleep,” said she, “you may as well start at once.”

“The night is the same as day to me,” he replied, “except that I cannot see my way so well in the dark.”

“I will furnish a light to guide you,” promised the Sorceress.

So the Scarecrow bade her good-bye and at once started on his journey. By morning he had reached the mountains that separated the Quadling Country from Jinxland. The sides of these mountains were too steep to climb, but the Scarecrow took a small rope from his pocket and tossed one end upward, into the air. The rope unwound itself for hundreds of feet, until it caught upon a peak of rock at the very top of a mountain, for it was a magic rope furnished him by Glinda. The Scarecrow climbed the rope and, after pulling it up, let it down on the other side of the mountain range.

When he descended the rope on this side he found himself in Jinxland, but at his feet yawned the Great Gulf, which must be crossed before he could proceed any farther.

The Scarecrow knelt down and examined the ground carefully, and in a moment he discovered a fuzzy brown spider that had rolled itself into a ball. So he took two tiny pills from his pocket and laid them beside the spider, which unrolled itself and quickly ate up the pills. Then the Scarecrow said in a voice of command:

“Spin!” and the spider obeyed instantly.

In a few moments the little creature had spun two slender but strong strands that reached way across the gulf, one being five or six feet above the other. When these were completed the Scarecrow started across the tiny bridge, walking upon one strand as a person walks upon a rope, and holding to the upper strand with his hands to prevent him from losing his balance and toppling over into the gulf. The tiny threads held him safely, thanks to the strength given them by the magic pills.

Presently he was safe across and standing on the plains of Jinxland. Far away he could see the towers of the King’s castle and toward this he at once began to walk.

CHAPTER 14

The Frozen Heart

In the hut of Pon, the gardener’s boy, Button-Bright was the first to waken in the morning. Leaving his companions still asleep, he went out into the fresh morning air and saw some blackberries growing on bushes in a field not far away. Going to the bushes he found the berries ripe and sweet, so he began eating them. More bushes were scattered over the fields, so the boy wandered on, from bush to bush, without paying any heed to where he was wandering. Then a butterfly fluttered by. He gave chase to it and followed it a long way. When finally he paused to look around him, Button-Bright could see no sign of Pon’s house, nor had he the slightest idea in which direction it lay.

“Well, I’m lost again,” he remarked to himself. “But never mind; I’ve been lost lots of times. Someone is sure to find me.”

Trot was a little worried about Button-Bright when she awoke and found him gone. Knowing how careless he was, she believed that he had strayed away, but felt that he would come back in time, because he had a habit of not staying lost. Pon got the little girl some food for her breakfast and then together they went out of the hut and stood in the sunshine.

Pon’s house was some distance off the road, but they could see it from where they stood and both gave a start of surprise when they discovered two soldiers walking along the roadway and escorting Princess Gloria between them. The poor girl had her hands bound together, to prevent her from struggling, and the soldiers rudely dragged her forward when her steps seemed to lag.

Behind this group came King Krewl, wearing his jeweled crown and swinging in his hand a slender golden staff with a ball of clustered gems at one end.

“Where are they going?” asked Trot.

“To the house of the Wicked Witch, I fear,” Pon replied. “Come, let us follow them, for I am sure they intend to harm my dear Gloria.”

“Won’t they see us?” she asked timidly.

“We won’t let them. I know a short cut through the trees to Blinkie’s house,” said he.

So they hurried away through the trees and reached the house of the witch ahead of the King and his soldiers. Hiding themselves in the shrubbery, they watched the approach of poor Gloria and her escort, all of whom passed so near to them that Pon could have put out a hand and touched his sweetheart, had he dared to.

Blinkie’s house had eight sides, with a door and a window in each side. Smoke was coming out of the chimney and as the guards brought Gloria to one of the doors it was opened by the old witch in person. She chuckled with evil glee and rubbed her skinny hands together to show the delight with which she greeted her victim, for Blinkie was pleased to be able to perform her wicked rites on one so fair and sweet as the Princess.

Gloria struggled to resist when they bade her enter the house, so the soldiers forced her through the doorway and even the King gave her a shove as he followed close behind. Pon was so incensed at the cruelty shown Gloria that he forgot all caution and rushed forward to enter the house also; but one of the soldiers prevented him, pushing the gardener’s boy away with violence and slamming the door in his face.

“Never mind,” said Trot soothingly, as Pon rose from where he had fallen. “You couldn’t do much to help the poor Princess if you were inside. How unfortunate it is that you are in love with her!”

“True,” he answered sadly, “it is indeed my misfortune. If I did not love her, it would be none of my business what the King did to his niece Gloria; but the unlucky circumstance of my loving her makes it my duty to defend her.”

“I don’t see how you can, duty or no duty,” observed Trot.

“No; I am powerless, for they are stronger than I. But we might peek in through the window and see what they are doing.”

Trot was somewhat curious, too, so they crept up to one of the windows and looked in, and it so happened that those inside the witch’s house were so busy they did not notice that Pon and Trot were watching them.

Gloria had been tied to a stout post in the center of the room and the King was giving the Wicked Witch a quantity of money and jewels, which Googly-Goo had provided in payment. When this had been done the King said to her:

“Are you perfectly sure you can freeze this maiden’s heart, so that she will no longer love that low gardener’s boy?”

“Sure as witchcraft, your Majesty,” the creature replied.

“Then get to work,” said the King. “There may be some unpleasant features about the ceremony that would annoy me, so I’ll bid you good day and leave you to carry out your contract. One word, however: If you fail, I shall burn you at the stake!” Then he beckoned to his soldiers to follow him, and throwing wide the door of the house walked out.

This action was so sudden that King Krewl almost caught Trot and Pon eavesdropping, but they managed to run around the house before he saw them. Away he marched, up the road, followed by his men, heartlessly leaving Gloria to the mercies of old Blinkie.

When they again crept up to the window, Trot and Pon saw Blinkie gloating over her victim. Although nearly fainting from fear, the proud Princess gazed with haughty defiance into the face of the wicked creature; but she was bound so tightly to the post that she could do no more to express her loathing.

Pretty soon Blinkie went to a kettle that was swinging by a chain over the fire and tossed into it several magical compounds. The kettle gave three flashes, and at every flash another witch appeared in the room.

These hags were very ugly but when one-eyed Blinkie whispered her orders to them they grinned with joy as they began dancing around Gloria. First one and then another cast something into the kettle, when to the astonishment of the watchers at the window all three of the old women were instantly transformed into maidens of exquisite beauty, dressed in the daintiest costumes imaginable. Only their eyes could not be disguised, and an evil glare still shone in their depths. But if the eyes were cast down or hidden, one could not help but admire these beautiful creatures, even with the knowledge that they were mere illusions of witchcraft.

Trot certainly admired them, for she had never seen anything so dainty and bewitching, but her attention was quickly drawn to their deeds instead of their persons, and then horror replaced admiration.

Into the kettle old Blinkie poured another mess from a big brass bottle she took from a chest, and this made the kettle begin to bubble and smoke violently. One by one the beautiful witches approached to stir the contents of the kettle and to mutter a magic charm. Their movements were graceful and rhythmic and the Wicked Witch who had called them to her aid watched them with an evil grin upon her wrinkled face.

Finally the incantation was complete. The kettle ceased bubbling and together the witches lifted it from the fire. Then Blinkie brought a wooden ladle and filled it from the contents of the kettle. Going with the spoon to Princess Gloria she cried:

“Love no more! Magic art

Now will freeze your mortal heart!”

With this she dashed the contents of the ladle full upon Gloria’s breast.

Trot saw the body of the Princess become transparent, so that her beating heart showed plainly. But now the heart turned from a vivid red to gray, and then to white. A layer of frost formed about it and tiny icicles clung to its surface. Then slowly the body of the girl became visible again and the heart was hidden from view. Gloria seemed to have fainted, but now she recovered and, opening her beautiful eyes, stared coldly and without emotion at the group of witches confronting her.

Blinkie and the others knew by that one cold look that their charm had been successful. They burst into a chorus of wild laughter and the three beautiful ones began dancing again, while Blinkie unbound the Princess and set her free.

Trot rubbed her eyes to prove that she was wide awake and seeing clearly, for her astonishment was great when the three lovely maidens turned into ugly, crooked hags again, leaning on broomsticks and canes. They jeered at Gloria, but the Princess regarded them with cold disdain. Being now free, she walked to a door, opened it and passed out. And the witches let her go.

Trot and Pon had been so intent upon this scene that in their eagerness they had pressed quite hard against the window. Just as Gloria went out of the house the window-sash broke loose from its fastenings and fell with a crash into the room.

The witches uttered a chorus of screams and then, seeing that their magical incantation had been observed, they rushed for the open window with uplifted broomsticks and canes. But Pon was off like the wind, and Trot followed at his heels. Fear lent them strength to run, to leap across ditches, to speed up the hills and to vault the low fences as a deer would.

The band of witches had dashed through the window in pursuit; but Blinkie was so old, and the others so crooked and awkward, that they soon realized they would be unable to overtake the fugitives. So the three who had been summoned by the Wicked Witch put their canes or broomsticks between their legs and flew away through the air, quickly disappearing against the blue sky. Blinkie, however, was so enraged at Pon and Trot that she hobbled on in the direction they had taken, fully determined to catch them, in time, and to punish them terribly for spying upon her witchcraft.

When Pon and Trot had run so far that they were confident they had made good their escape, they sat down near the edge of a forest to get their breath again, for both were panting hard from their exertions. Trot was the first to recover speech, and she said to her companion:

“My! wasn’t it tenable?”

“The most terrible thing I ever saw,” Pon agreed.

“And they froze Gloria’s heart; so now she can’t love you any more.”

“Well, they froze her heart, to be sure,” admitted Pon, “but I’m in hopes I can melt it with my love.”

“Where do you s’pose Gloria is?’ asked the girl, after a pause.

“She left the witch’s house just before we did. Perhaps she has gone back to the King’s castle,” he said.

“I’m pretty sure she started off in a different direction,” declared Trot. “I looked over my shoulder, as I ran, to see how close the witches were, and I’m sure I saw Gloria walking slowly away toward the north.”

“Then let us circle around that way,” proposed Pon, “and perhaps we shall meet her.”

Trot agreed to this and they left the grove and began to circle around toward the north, thus drawing nearer and nearer to old Blinkie’s house again. The Wicked Witch did not suspect this change of direction, so when she came to the grove she passed through it and continued on.

Pon and Trot had reached a place less than half a mile from the witch’s house when they saw Gloria walking toward them. The Princess moved with great dignity and with no show of haste whatever, holding her head high and looking neither to right nor left.

Pon rushed forward, holding out his arms as if to embrace her and calling her sweet names. But Gloria gazed upon him coldly and repelled him with a haughty gesture. At this the poor gardener’s boy sank upon his knees and hid his face in his arms, weeping bitter tears; but the Princess was not at all moved by his distress. Passing him by, she drew her skirts aside, as if unwilling they should touch him, and then she walked up the path a way and hesitated, as if uncertain where to go next.

Trot was grieved by Pon’s sobs and indignant because Gloria treated him so badly. But she remembered why.

“I guess your heart is frozen, all right,” she said to the Princess. Gloria nodded gravely, in reply, and then turned her back upon the little girl. “Can’t you like even me?” asked Trot, half pleadingly.

“No,” said Gloria.

“Your voice sounds like a refrig’rator,” sighed the little girl. “I’m awful sorry for you, ’cause you were sweet an’ nice to me before this happened. You can’t help it, of course; but it’s a dreadful thing, jus’ the same.”

“My heart is frozen to all mortal loves,” announced Gloria, calmly. “I do not love even myself.”

“That’s too bad,” said Trot, “for, if you can’t love anybody, you can’t expect anybody to love you.”

“I do!” cried Pon. “I shall always love her.”

“Well, you’re just a gardener’s boy,” replied Trot, “and I didn’t think you ’mounted to much, from the first. I can love the old Princess Gloria, with a warm heart an’ nice manners, but this one gives me the shivers.”

“It’s her icy heart, that’s all,” said Pon.

“That’s enough,” insisted Trot. “Seeing her heart isn’t big enough to skate on, I can’t see that she’s of any use to anyone. For my part, I’m goin’ to try to find Button-Bright an’ Cap’n Bill.”

“I will go with you,” decided Pon. “It is evident that Gloria no longer loves me and that her heart is frozen too stiff for me to melt it with my own love; therefore I may as well help you to find your friends.”

As Trot started off, Pon cast one more imploring look at the Princess, who returned it with a chilly stare. So he followed after the little girl.

As for the Princess, she hesitated a moment and then turned in the same direction the others had taken, but going far more slowly. Soon she heard footsteps pattering behind her, and up came Googly-Goo, a little out of breath with running.

“Stop, Gloria!” he cried. “I have come to take you back to my mansion, where we are to be married.”

She looked at him wonderingly a moment, then tossed her head disdainfully and walked on. But Googly-Goo kept beside her.

“What does this mean?” he demanded. “Haven’t you discovered that you no longer love that gardener’s boy, who stood in my way?”

“Yes; I have discovered it,” she replied. “My heart is frozen to all mortal loves. I cannot love you, or Pon, or the cruel King my uncle, or even myself. Go your way, Googly-Goo, for I will wed no one at all.”

He stopped in dismay when he heard this, but in another minute he exclaimed angrily:

“You must wed me, Princess Gloria, whether you want to or not! I paid to have your heart frozen; I also paid the King to permit our marriage. If you now refuse me it will mean that I have been robbed—robbed—robbed of my precious money and jewels!”

He almost wept with despair, but she laughed a cold, bitter laugh and passed on. Googly-Goo caught at her arm, as if to restrain her, but she whirled and dealt him a blow that sent him reeling into a ditch beside the path. Here he lay for a long time, half covered by muddy water, dazed with surprise.

Finally the old courtier arose, dripping, and climbed from the ditch. The Princess had gone; so, muttering threats of vengeance upon her, upon the King and upon Blinkie, old Googly-Goo hobbled back to his mansion to have the mud removed from his costly velvet clothes.

CHAPTER 15

Trot Meets the Scarecrow

Trot and Pon covered many leagues of ground, searching through forests, in fields and in many of the little villages of Jinxland, but could find no trace of either Cap’n Bill or Button-Bright. Finally they paused beside a cornfield and sat upon a stile to rest. Pon took some apples from his pocket and gave one to Trot. Then he began eating another himself, for this was their time for luncheon. When his apple was finished Pon tossed the core into the field.

“Tchuk-tchuk!” said a strange voice. “What do you mean by hitting me in the eye with an apple-core?”

Then rose up the form of the Scarecrow, who had hidden himself in the cornfield while he examined Pon and Trot and decided whether they were worthy to be helped.

“Excuse me,” said Pon. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“How did you happen to be there, anyhow?” asked Trot.

The Scarecrow came forward with awkward steps and stood beside them.

“Ah, you are the gardener’s boy,” he said to Pon. Then he turned to Trot. “And you are the little girl who came to Jinxland riding on a big bird, and who has had the misfortune to lose her friend, Cap’n Bill, and her chum, Button-Bright.”

“Why, how did you know all that?” she inquired.

“I know a lot of things,” replied the Scarecrow, winking at her comically. “My brains are the Carefully-Assorted, Double-Distilled, High-Efficiency sort that the Wizard of Oz makes. He admits, himself, that my brains are the best he ever manufactured.”

“I think I’ve heard of you,” said Trot slowly, as she looked the Scarecrow over with much interest; “but you used to live in the Land of Oz.”

“Oh, I do now,” he replied cheerfully. “I’ve just come over the mountains from the Quadling Country to see if I can be of any help to you.”

“Who, me?” asked Pon.

“No, the strangers from the big world. It seems they need looking after.”

“I’m doing that myself,” said Pon, a little ungraciously. “If you will pardon me for saying so, I don’t see how a Scarecrow with painted eyes can look after anyone.”

“If you don’t see that, you are more blind than the Scarecrow,” asserted Trot. “He’s a fairy man, Pon, and comes from the fairyland of Oz, so he can do ’most anything. I hope,” she added, turning to the Scarecrow, “you can find Cap’n Bill for me.”

“I will try, anyhow,” he promised. “But who is that old woman who is running toward us and shaking her stick at us?”

Trot and Pon turned around and both uttered an exclamation of fear. The next instant they took to their heels and ran fast up the path. For it was old Blinkie, the Wicked Witch, who had at last traced them to this place. Her anger was so great that she was determined not to abandon the chase of Pon and Trot until she had caught and punished them.

The Scarecrow understood at once that the old woman meant harm to his new friends, so as she drew near he stepped before her. His appearance was so sudden and unexpected that Blinkie ran into him and toppled him over, but she tripped on his straw body and went rolling in the path beside him.

The Scarecrow sat up and said: “I beg your pardon!” but she whacked him with her stick and knocked him flat again. Then, furious with rage, the old witch sprang upon her victim and began pulling the straw out of his body. The poor Scarecrow was helpless to resist and in a few moments all that was left of him was an empty suit of clothes and a heap of straw beside it. Fortunately, Blinkie did not harm his head, for it rolled into a little hollow and escaped her notice. Fearing that Pon and Trot would escape her, she quickly resumed the chase and disappeared over the brow of a hill, following the direction in which she had seen them go.

Only a short time elapsed before a gray grasshopper with a wooden leg came hopping along and lit directly on the upturned face of the Scarecrow’s head.

“Pardon me, but you are resting yourself upon my nose,” remarked the Scarecrow.

“Oh! are you alive?” asked the grasshopper.

“That is a question I have never been able to decide,” said the Scarecrow’s head. “When my body is properly stuffed I have animation and can move around as well as any live person. The brains in the head you are now occupying as a throne, are of very superior quality and do a lot of very clever thinking. But whether that is being alive, or not, I cannot prove to you; for one who lives is liable to death, while I am only liable to destruction.”

“Seems to me,” said the grasshopper, rubbing his nose with his front legs, “that in your case it doesn’t matter—unless you’re destroyed already.”

“I am not; all I need is re-stuffing,” declared the Scarecrow; “and if Pon and Trot escape the witch, and come back here, I am sure they will do me that favor.”

“Tell me! Are Trot and Pon around here?” inquired the grasshopper, its small voice trembling with excitement.

The Scarecrow did not answer at once, for both his eyes were staring straight upward at a beautiful face that was slightly bent over his head. It was, indeed, Princess Gloria, who had wandered to this spot, very much surprised when she heard the Scarecrow’s head talk and the tiny gray grasshopper answer it.

“This,” said the Scarecrow, still staring at her, “must be the Princess who loves Pon, the gardener’s boy.”

“Oh, indeed!” exclaimed the grasshopper—who of course was Cap’n Bill—as he examined the young lady curiously.

“No,” said Gloria frigidly, “I do not love Pon, or anyone else, for the Wicked Witch has frozen my heart.”

“What a shame!” cried the Scarecrow. “One so lovely should be able to love. But would you mind, my dear, stuffing that straw into my body again?”

The dainty Princess glanced at the straw and at the well-worn blue Munchkin clothes and shrank back in disdain. But she was spared from refusing the Scarecrow’s request by the appearance of Trot and Pon, who had hidden in some bushes just over the brow of the hill and waited until old Blinkie had passed them by. Their hiding place was on the same side as the witch’s blind eye, and she rushed on in the chase of the girl and the youth without being aware that they had tricked her.

Trot was shocked at the Scarecrow’s sad condition and at once began putting the straw back into his body. Pon, at sight of Gloria, again appealed to her to take pity on him, but the frozen-hearted Princess turned coldly away and with a sigh the gardener’s boy began to assist Trot.

Neither of them at first noticed the small grasshopper, which at their appearance had skipped off the Scarecrow’s nose and was now clinging to a wisp of grass beside the path, where he was not likely to be stepped upon. Not until the Scarecrow had been neatly re-stuffed and set upon his feet again when he bowed to his restorers and expressed his thanks did the grasshopper move from his perch. Then he leaped lightly into the path and called out:

“Trot—Trot! Look at me. I’m Cap’n Bill! See what the Wicked Witch has done to me.”

The voice was small, to be sure, but it reached Trot’s ears and startled her greatly. She looked intently at the grasshopper, her eyes wide with fear at first; then she knelt down and, noticing the wooden leg, she began to weep sorrowfully.

“Oh, Cap’n Bill—dear Cap’n Bill! What a cruel thing to do!” she sobbed.

“Don’t cry, Trot,” begged the grasshopper. “It didn’t hurt any, and it doesn’t hurt now. But it’s mighty inconvenient an’ humiliatin’, to say the least.”

“I wish,” said the girl indignantly, while trying hard to restrain her tears, “that I was big ’nough an’ strong ’nough to give that horrid witch a good beating. She ought to be turned into a toad for doing this to you, Cap’n Bill!”

“Never mind,” urged the Scarecrow, in a comforting voice, “such a transformation doesn’t last always, and as a general thing there’s some way to break the enchantment. I’m sure Glinda could do it, in a jiffy.”

“Who is Glinda?” inquired Cap’n Bill.

Then the Scarecrow told them all about Glinda, not forgetting to mention her beauty and goodness and her wonderful powers of magic. He also explained how the Royal Sorceress had sent him to Jinxland especially to help the strangers, whom she knew to be in danger because of the wiles of the cruel King and the Wicked Witch.

CHAPTER 16

Pon Summons the King to Surrender

Gloria had drawn near to the group to listen to their talk, and it seemed to interest her in spite of her frigid manner. They knew, of course, that the poor Princess could not help being cold and reserved, so they tried not to blame her.

“I ought to have come here a little sooner,” said the Scarecrow, regretfully; “but Glinda sent me as soon as she discovered you were here and were likely to get into trouble. And now that we are all together—except Button-Bright, over whom it is useless to worry—I propose we hold a council of war, to decide what is best to be done.”

That seemed a wise thing to do, so they all sat down upon the grass, including Gloria, and the grasshopper perched upon Trot’s shoulder and allowed her to stroke him gently with her hand.

“In the first place,” began the Scarecrow, “this King Krewl is a usurper and has no right to rule this Kingdom of Jinxland.”

“That is true,” said Pon, eagerly. “My father was King before him, and I —”

“You are a gardener’s boy,” interrupted the Scarecrow. “Your father had no right to rule, either, for the rightful King of this land was the father of Princess Gloria, and only she is entitled to sit upon the throne of Jinxland.”

“Good!” exclaimed Trot. “But what’ll we do with King Krewl? I s’pose he won’t give up the throne unless he has to.”

“No, of course not,” said the Scarecrow. “Therefore it will be our duty to make him give up the throne.”

“How?” asked Trot.

“Give me time to think,” was the reply. “That’s what my brains are for. I don’t know whether you people ever think, or not, but my brains are the best that the Wizard of Oz ever turned out, and if I give them plenty of time to work, the result usually surprises me.”

“Take your time, then,” suggested Trot. “There’s no hurry.”

“Thank you,” said the straw man, and sat perfectly still for half an hour. During this interval the grasshopper whispered in Trot’s ear, to which he was very close, and Trot whispered back to the grasshopper sitting upon her shoulder. Pon cast loving glances at Gloria, who paid not the slightest heed to them.

Finally the Scarecrow laughed aloud.

“Brains working?” inquired Trot.

“Yes. They seem in fine order today. We will conquer King Krewl and put Gloria upon his throne as Queen of Jinxland.”

“Fine!” cried the little girl, clapping her hands together gleefully. “But how?”

“Leave the how to me,” said the Scarecrow proudly. “As a conqueror I’m a wonder. We will, first of all, write a message to send to King Krewl, asking him to surrender. If he refuses, then we will make him surrender.”

“Why ask him, when we know he’ll refuse?” inquired Pon.

“Why, we must be polite, whatever we do,” explained the Scarecrow. “It would be very rude to conquer a King without proper notice.”

They found it difficult to write a message without paper, pen and ink, none of which was at hand; so it was decided to send Pon as a messenger, with instructions to ask the King, politely but firmly, to surrender.

Pon was not anxious to be the messenger. Indeed, he hinted that it might prove a dangerous mission.

But the Scarecrow was now the acknowledged head of the Army of Conquest, and he would listen to no refusal. So off Pon started for the King’s castle, and the others accompanied him as far as his hut, where they had decided to await the gardener’s boy’s return.

I think it was because Pon had known the Scarecrow such a short time that he lacked confidence in the straw man’s wisdom. It was easy to say: “We will conquer King Krewl,” but when Pon drew near to the great castle he began to doubt the ability of a straw-stuffed man, a girl, a grasshopper and a frozen-hearted Princess to do it. As for himself, he had never thought of defying the King before.

That was why the gardener’s boy was not very bold when he entered the castle and passed through to the enclosed court where the King was just then seated, with his favorite courtiers around him. None prevented Pon’s entrance, because he was known to be the gardener’s boy, but when the King saw him he began to frown fiercely. He considered Pon to be to blame for all his trouble with Princess Gloria, who since her heart had been frozen had escaped to some unknown place, instead of returning to the castle to wed Googly-Goo, as she had been expected to do. So the King bared his teeth angrily as he demanded:

“What have you done with Princess Gloria?”

“Nothing, your Majesty! I have done nothing at all,” answered Pon in a faltering voice. “She does not love me any more and even refuses to speak to me.”

“Then why are you here, you rascal?” roared the King.

Pon looked first one way and then another, but saw no means of escape; so he plucked up courage.

“I am here to summon your Majesty to surrender.”

“What!” shouted the King. “Surrender? Surrender to whom?”

Pon’s heart sank to his boots.

“To the Scarecrow,” he replied.

Some of the courtiers began to titter, but King Krewl was greatly annoyed. He sprang up and began to beat poor Pon with the golden staff he carried. Pon howled lustily and would have run away had not two of the soldiers held him until his Majesty was exhausted with punishing the boy. Then they let him go and he left the castle and returned along the road, sobbing at every step because his body was so sore and aching.

“Well,” said the Scarecrow, “did the King surrender?”

“No; but he gave me a good drubbing!” sobbed poor Pon.

Trot was very sorry for Pon, but Gloria did not seem affected in any way by her lover’s anguish. The grasshopper leaped to the Scarecrow’s shoulder and asked him what he was going to do next.

“Conquer,” was the reply. “But I will go alone, this time, for beatings cannot hurt me at all; nor can lance thrusts—or sword cuts—or arrow pricks.”

“Why is that?” inquired Trot.

“Because I have no nerves, such as you meat people possess. Even grasshoppers have nerves, but straw doesn’t; so whatever they do—except just one thing—they cannot injure me. Therefore I expect to conquer King Krewl with ease.”

“What is that one thing you excepted?” asked Trot.

“They will never think of it, so never mind. And now, if you will kindly excuse me for a time, I’ll go over to the castle and do my conquering.”

“You have no weapons,” Pon reminded him.

“True,” said the Scarecrow. “But if I carried weapons I might injure someone—perhaps seriously—and that would make me unhappy. I will just borrow that riding-whip, which I see in the corner of your hut, if you don’t mind. It isn’t exactly proper to walk with a riding-whip, but I trust you will excuse the inconsistency.”

Pon handed him the whip and the Scarecrow bowed to all the party and left the hut, proceeding leisurely along the way to the King’s castle.

CHAPTER 17

The Ork Rescues Button-Bright

I must now tell you what had become of Button-Bright since he wandered away in the morning and got lost. This small boy, as perhaps you have discovered, was almost as destitute of nerves as the Scarecrow. Nothing ever astonished him much; nothing ever worried him or made him unhappy. Good fortune or bad fortune he accepted with a quiet smile, never complaining, whatever happened. This was one reason why Button-Bright was a favorite with all who knew him—and perhaps it was the reason why he so often got into difficulties, or found himself lost.

Today, as he wandered here and there, over hill and down dale, he missed Trot and Cap’n Bill, of whom he was fond, but nevertheless he was not unhappy. The birds sang merrily and the wildflowers were beautiful and the breeze had a fragrance of new-mown hay.

“The only bad thing about this country is its King,” he reflected; “but the country isn’t to blame for that.”

A prairie-dog stuck its round head out of a mound of earth and looked at the boy with bright eyes.

“Walk around my house, please,” it said, “and then you won’t harm it or disturb the babies.”

“All right,” answered Button-Bright, and took care not to step on the mound. He went on, whistling merrily, until a petulant voice cried:

“Oh, stop it! Please stop that noise. It gets on my nerves.”

Button-Bright saw an old gray owl sitting in the crotch of a tree, and he replied with a laugh: “All right, old Fussy,” and stopped whistling until he had passed out of the owl’s hearing. At noon he came to a farmhouse where an aged couple lived. They gave him a good dinner and treated him kindly, but the man was deaf and the woman was dumb, so they could answer no questions to guide him on the way to Port’s house. When he left them he was just as much lost as he had been before.

Every grove of trees he saw from a distance he visited, for he remembered that the King’s castle was near a grove of trees and Pon’s hut was near the King’s castle; but always he met with disappointment. Finally, passing through one of these groves, he came out into the open and found himself face to face with the Ork.

“Hello!” said Button-Bright. “Where did you come from?”

“From Orkland,” was the reply. “I’ve found my own country, at last, and it is not far from here, either. I would have come back to you sooner, to see how you are getting along, had not my family and friends welcomed my return so royally that a great celebration was held in my honor. So I couldn’t very well leave Orkland again until the excitement was over.”

“Can you find your way back home again?” asked the boy.

“Yes, easily; for now I know exactly where it is. But where are Trot and Cap’n Bill?”

Button-Bright related to the Ork their adventures since it had left them in Jinxland, telling of Trot’s fear that the King had done something wicked to Cap’n Bill, and of Pon’s love for Gloria, and how Trot and Button-Bright had been turned out of the King’s castle. That was all the news that the boy had, but it made the Ork anxious for the safety of his friends.

“We must go to them at once, for they may need us,” he said.

“I don’t know where to go,” confessed Button-Bright. “I’m lost.”

“Well, I can take you back to the hut of the gardener’s boy,” promised the Ork, “for when I fly high in the air I can look down and easily spy the King’s castle. That was how I happened to spy you, just entering the grove; so I flew down and waited until you came out.”

“How can you carry me?” asked the boy.

“You’ll have to sit straddle my shoulders and put your arms around my neck. Do you think you can keep from falling off?”

“Til try,” said Button-Bright. So the Ork squatted down and the boy took his seat and held on tight. Then the skinny creature’s tail began whirling and up they went, far above all the tree-tops.

After the Ork had circled around once or twice, its sharp eyes located the towers of the castle and away it flew, straight toward the place. As it hovered in the air, near by the castle, Button-Bright pointed out Pon’s hut, so they landed just before it and Trot came running out to greet them.

Gloria was introduced to the Ork, who was surprised to find Cap’n Bill transformed into a grasshopper.

“How do you like it?” asked the creature.

“Why, it worries me a good deal,” answered Cap’n Bill, perched upon Trot’s shoulder. “I’m always afraid o’ bein’ stepped on, and I don’t like the flavor of grass an’ can’t seem to get used to it. It’s my nature to eat grass, you know, but I begin to suspect it’s an acquired taste.”

“Can you give molasses?” asked the Ork.

“I guess I’m not that kind of a grasshopper,” replied Cap’n Bill. “But I can’t say what I might do if I was squeezed—which I hope I won’t be.”

“Well,” said the Ork, “it’s a great pity, and I’d like to meet that cruel King and his Wicked Witch and punish them both severely. You’re awfully small, Cap’n Bill, but I think I would recognize you anywhere by your wooden leg.”

Then the Ork and Button-Bright were told all about Gloria’s frozen heart and how the Scarecrow had come from the Land of Oz to help them. The Ork seemed rather disturbed when it learned that the Scarecrow had gone alone to conquer King Krewl.

“I’m afraid he’ll make a fizzle of it,” said the skinny creature, “and there’s no telling what that terrible King might do to the poor Scarecrow, who seems like a very interesting person. So I believe I’ll take a hand in this conquest myself.”

“How?” asked Trot.

“Wait and see,” was the reply. “But, first of all, I must fly home again—back to my own country—so if you’ll forgive my leaving you so soon, I’ll be off at once. Stand away from my tail, please, so that the wind from it, when it revolves, won’t knock you over.”

They gave the creature plenty of room and away it went like a flash and soon disappeared in the sky.

“I wonder,” said Button-Bright, looking solemnly after the Ork, “whether he’ll ever come back again.”

“Of course he will!” returned Trot. “The Ork’s a pretty good fellow, and we can depend on him. An’ mark my words, Button-Bright, whenever our Ork does come back, there’s one cruel King in Jinxland that’ll wish he hadn’t.”

CHAPTER 18

The Scarecrow Meets an Enemy

The Scarecrow was not a bit afraid of King Krewl. Indeed, he rather enjoyed the prospect of conquering the evil King and putting Gloria on the throne of Jinxland in his place. So he advanced boldly to the royal castle and demanded admittance.

Seeing that he was a stranger, the soldiers allowed him to enter. He made his way straight to the throne room, where at that time his Majesty was settling the disputes among his subjects.

“Who are you?” demanded the King.

“I’m the Scarecrow of Oz, and I command you to surrender yourself my prisoner.”

“Why should I do that?” inquired the King, much astonished at the straw man’s audacity.

“Because I’ve decided you are too cruel a King to rule so beautiful a country. You must remember that Jinxland is a part of Oz, and therefore you owe allegiance to Ozma of Oz, whose friend and servant I am.”

Now, when he heard this, King Krewl was much disturbed in mind, for he knew the Scarecrow spoke the truth. But no one had ever before come to Jinxland from the Land of Oz and the King did not intend to be put out of his throne if he could help it. Therefore he gave a harsh, wicked laugh of derision and said:

“I’m busy, now. Stand out of my way, Scarecrow, and I’ll talk with you by and by.”

But the Scarecrow turned to the assembled courtiers and people and called in a loud voice:

“I hereby declare, in the name of Ozma of Oz, that this man is no longer ruler of Jinxland. From this moment Princess Gloria is your rightful Queen, and I ask all of you to be loyal to her and to obey her commands.”

The people looked fearfully at the King, whom they all hated in their hearts, but likewise feared. Krewl was now in a terrible rage and he raised his golden sceptre and struck the Scarecrow so heavy a blow that he fell to the floor.

But he was up again, in an instant, and with Pon’s riding-whip he switched the King so hard that the wicked monarch roared with pain as much as with rage, calling on his soldiers to capture the Scarecrow.

They tried to do that, and thrust their lances and swords into the straw body, but without doing any damage except to make holes in the Scarecrow’s clothes. However, they were many against one and finally old Googly-Goo brought a rope which he wound around the Scarecrow, binding his legs together and his arms to his sides, and after that the fight was over.

The King stormed and danced around in a dreadful fury, for he had never been so switched since he was a boy—and perhaps not then. He ordered the Scarecrow thrust into the castle prison, which was no task at all because one man could carry him easily, bound as he was.

Even after the prisoner was removed the King could not control his anger. He tried to figure out some way to be revenged upon the straw man, but could think of nothing that could hurt him.

At last, when the terrified people and the frightened courtiers had all slunk away, old Googly-Goo approached the king with a malicious grin upon his face.

“I’ll tell you what to do,” said he. “Build a big bonfire and burn the Scarecrow up, and that will be the end of him.”

The King was so delighted with this suggestion that he hugged old Googly-Goo in his joy.

“Of course!” he cried. “The very thing. Why did I not think of it my self?”

So he summoned his soldiers and retainers and bade them prepare a great bonfire in an open space in the castle park. Also he sent word to all his people to assemble and witness the destruction of the Scarecrow who had dared to defy his power. Before long a vast throng gathered in the park and the servants had heaped up enough fuel to make a fire that might be seen for miles away—even in the daytime.

When all was prepared, the King had his throne brought out for him to sit upon and enjoy the spectacle, and then he sent his soldiers to fetch the Scarecrow.

Now the one thing in all the world that the straw man really feared was fire. He knew he would burn very easily and that his ashes wouldn’t amount to much afterward. It wouldn’t hurt him to be destroyed in such a manner, but he realized that many people in the Land of Oz, and especially Dorothy and the Royal Ozma, would feel sad if they learned that their old friend the Scarecrow was no longer in existence.

In spite of this, the straw man was brave and faced his fiery fate like a hero. When they marched him out before the concourse of people he turned to the King with great calmness and said:

“This wicked deed will cost you your throne, as well as much suffering, for my friends will avenge my destruction.”

“Your friends are not here, nor will they know what I have done to you, when you are gone and cannot tell them,” answered the King in a scornful voice.

Then he ordered the Scarecrow bound to a stout stake that he had had driven into the ground, and the materials for the fire were heaped all around him. When this had been done, the King’s brass band struck up a lively tune and old Googly-Goo came forward with a lighted match and set fire to the pile.

At once the flames shot up and crept closer and closer toward the Scarecrow. The King and all his people were so intent upon this terrible spectacle that none of them noticed how the sky grew suddenly dark. Perhaps they thought that the loud buzzing sound—like the noise of a dozen moving railway trains—came from the blazing fagots; that the rush of wind was merely a breeze. But suddenly down swept a flock of Orks, half a hundred of them at the least, and the powerful currents of air caused by their revolving tails sent the bonfire scattering in every direction, so that not one burning brand ever touched the Scarecrow.

But that was not the only effect of this sudden tornado. King Krewl was blown out of his throne and went tumbling heels over head until he landed with a bump against the stone wall of his own castle, and before he could rise a big Ork sat upon him and held him pressed flat to the ground. Old Googly-Goo shot up into the air like a rocket and landed on a tree, where he hung by the middle on a high limb, kicking the air with his feet and clawing the air with his hands, and howling for mercy like the coward he was.

The people pressed back until they were jammed close together, while all the soldiers were knocked over and sent sprawling to the earth. The excitement was great for a few minutes, and every frightened inhabitant of Jinxland looked with awe and amazement at the great Orks whose descent had served to rescue the Scarecrow and conquer King Krewl at one and the same time.

The Ork, who was the leader of the band, soon had the Scarecrow free of his bonds. Then he said: “Well, we were just in time to save you, which is better than being a minute too late. You are now the master here, and we are determined to see your orders obeyed.”

With this the Ork picked up Krewl’s golden crown, which had fallen off his head, and placed it upon the head of the Scarecrow, who in his awkward way then shuffled over to the throne and sat down in it.

Seeing this, a rousing cheer broke from the crowd of people, who tossed their hats and waved their handkerchiefs and hailed the Scarecrow as their King. The soldiers joined the people in the cheering, for now they fully realized that their hated master was conquered and it would be wise to show their good will to the conqueror. Some of them bound Krewl with ropes and dragged him forward, dumping his body on the ground before the Scarecrow’s throne. Googly-Goo struggled until he finally slid off the limb of the tree and came tumbling to the ground. He then tried to sneak away and escape, but the soldiers seized and bound him beside Krewl.

“The tables are turned,” said the Scarecrow, swelling out his chest until the straw within it crackled pleasantly, for he was highly pleased; “but it was you and your people who did it, friend Ork, and from this time you may count me your humble servant.”

CHAPTER 19

The Conquest of the Witch

Now as soon as the conquest of King Krewl had taken place, one of the Orks had been dispatched to Pon’s house with the joyful news. At once Gloria and Pon and Trot and Button-Bright hastened toward the castle. They were somewhat surprised by the sight that met their eyes, for there was the Scarecrow, crowned King, and all the people kneeling humbly before him. So they likewise bowed low to the new ruler and then stood beside the throne. Cap’n Bill, as the gray grasshopper, was still perched upon Trot’s shoulder, but now he hopped to the shoulder of the Scarecrow and whispered into the painted ear:

“I thought Gloria was to be Queen of Jinxland.”

The Scarecrow shook his head.

“Not yet,” he answered. “No Queen with a frozen heart is fit to rule any country.” Then he turned to his new friend, the Ork, who was strutting about, very proud of what he had done, and said: “Do you suppose you, or your followers, could find old Blinkie the Witch?”

“Where is she?” asked the Ork.

“Somewhere in Jinxland, I’m sure.”

“Then,” said the Ork, “we shall certainly be able to find her.”

“It will give me great pleasure,” declared the Scarecrow. “When you have found her, bring her here to me, and I will then decide what to do with her.”

The Ork called his followers together and spoke a few words to them in a low tone. A moment after they rose into the air—so suddenly that the Scarecrow, who was very light in weight, was blown quite out of his throne and into the arms of Pon, who replaced him carefully upon his seat. There was an eddy of dust and ashes, too, and the grasshopper only saved himself from being whirled into the crowd of people by jumping into a tree, from where a series of hops soon brought him back to Trot’s shoulder again.

The Orks were quite out of sight by this time, so the Scarecrow made a speech to the people and presented Gloria to them, whom they knew well already and were fond of. But not all of them knew of her frozen heart, and when the Scarecrow related the story of the Wicked Witch’s misdeeds, which had been encouraged and paid for by Krewl and Googly-Goo, the people were very indignant.

Meantime the fifty Orks had scattered all over Jinxland, which is not a very big country, and their sharp eyes were peering into every valley and grove and gully. Finally one of them spied a pair of heels sticking out from underneath some bushes, and with a shrill whistle to warn his comrades that the witch was found the Ork flew down and dragged old Blinkie from her hiding-place.

Then two or three of the Orks seized the clothing of the wicked woman in their strong claws and, lifting her high in the air, where she struggled and screamed to no avail, they flew with her straight to the royal castle and set her down before the throne of the Scarecrow.

“Good!” exclaimed the straw man, nodding his stuffed head with satisfaction. “Now we can proceed to business. Mistress Witch, I am obliged to request, gently but firmly, that you undo all the wrongs you have done by means of your witchcraft.”

“Pah!” cried old Blinkie in a scornful voice. “I defy you all! By my magic powers I can turn you all into pigs, rooting in the mud, and I’ll do it if you are not careful.”

“I think you are mistaken about that,” said the Scarecrow, and rising from his throne he walked with wobbling steps to the side of the Wicked Witch. “Before I left the Land of Oz, Glinda the Royal Sorceress gave me a box, which I was not to open except in an emergency. But I feel pretty sure that this occasion is an emergency; don’t you, Trot?’ he asked, turning toward the little girl.

“Why, we’ve got to do something,” replied Trot seriously. “Things seem in an awful muddle here, jus’ now, and they’ll be worse if we don’t stop this witch from doing more harm to people.”

“That is my idea, exactly,” said the Scarecrow, and taking a small box from his pocket he opened the cover and tossed the contents toward Blinkie.

The old woman shrank back, pale and trembling, as a fine white dust settled all about her. Under its influence she seemed to the eyes of all observers to shrivel and grow smaller.

“Oh, dear—oh, dear!” she wailed, wringing her hands in fear. “Haven’t you the antidote, Scarecrow? Didn’t the great Sorceress give you another box?”

“She did,” answered the Scarecrow.

“Then give it me—quick!” pleaded the witch. “Give it me—and I’ll do anything you ask me to!”

“You will do what I ask first,” declared the Scarecrow, firmly.

The witch was shriveling and growing smaller every moment.

“Be quick, then!” she cried. “Tell me what I must do and let me do it, or it will be too late.”

“You made Trot’s friend, Cap’n Bill, a grasshopper. I command you to give him back his proper form again,” said the Scarecrow.

“Where is he? Where’s the grasshopper? Quick—quick!” she screamed.

Cap’n Bill, who had been deeply interested in this conversation, gave a great leap from Trot’s shoulder and landed on that of the Scarecrow. Blinkie saw him alight and at once began to make magic passes and to mumble magic incantations. She was in a desperate hurry, knowing that she had no time to waste, and the grasshopper was so suddenly transformed into the old sailor-man, Cap’n Bill, that he had no opportunity to jump off the Scarecrow’s shoulder; so his great weight bore the stuffed Scarecrow to the ground. No harm was done, however, and the straw man got up and brushed the dust from his clothes while Trot delightedly embraced Cap’n Bill.

“The other box! Quick! Give me the other box,” begged Blinkie, who had now shrunk to half her former size.

“Not yet,” said the Scarecrow. “You must first melt Princess Gloria’s frozen heart.”

“I can’t; it’s an awful job to do that! I can’t,” asserted the witch, in an agony of fear—for still she was growing smaller.

“You must!” declared the Scarecrow, firmly.

The witch cast a shrewd look at him and saw that he meant it; so she began dancing around Gloria in a frantic manner. The Princess looked coldly on, as if not at all interested in the proceedings, while Blinkie tore a handful of hair from her own head and ripped a strip of cloth from the bottom of her gown. Then the witch sank upon her knees, took a purple powder from her black bag and sprinkled it over the hair and cloth.

“I hate to do it—I hate to do it!” she wailed, “for there is no more of this magic compound in all the world. But I must sacrifice it to save my own life. A match! Give me a match, quick!” and panting from lack of breath she gazed imploringly from one to another.

Cap’n Bill was the only one who had a match, but he lost no time in handing it to Blinkie, who quickly set fire to the hair and the cloth and the purple powder. At once a purple cloud enveloped Gloria, and this gradually turned to a rosy pink color—brilliant and quite transparent. Through the rosy cloud they could all see the beautiful Princess, standing proud and erect. Then her heart became visible, at first frosted with ice but slowly growing brighter and warmer until all the frost had disappeared and it was beating as softly and regularly as any other heart. And now the cloud dispersed and disclosed Gloria, her face suffused with joy, smiling tenderly upon the friends who were grouped about her.

Poor Pon stepped forward—timidly, fearing a repulse, but with pleading eyes and arms fondly outstretched toward his former sweetheart—and the Princess saw him and her sweet face lighted with a radiant smile. Without an instant’s hesitation she threw herself into Pon’s arms and this reunion of two loving hearts was so affecting that the people turned away and lowered their eyes so as not to mar the sacred joy of the faithful lovers.

But Blinkie’s small voice was shouting to the Scarecrow for help.

“The antidote!” she screamed. “Give me the other box—quick!”

The Scarecrow looked at the witch with his quaint, painted eyes and saw that she was now no taller than his knee. So he took from his pocket the second box and scattered its contents on Blinkie. She ceased to grow any smaller, but she could never regain her former size, and this the wicked old woman well knew.

She did not know, however, that the second powder had destroyed all her power to work magic, and seeking to be revenged upon the Scarecrow and his friends she at once began to mumble a charm so terrible in its effect that it would have destroyed half the population of Jinxland—had it worked. But it did not work at all, to the amazement of old Blinkie. And by this time the Scarecrow noticed what the little witch was trying to do, and said to her:

“Go home, Blinkie, and behave yourself. You are no longer a witch, but an ordinary old woman, and since you are powerless to do more evil I advise you to try to do some good in the world. Believe me, it is more fun to accomplish a good act than an evil one, as you will discover when once you have tried it.”

But Blinkie was at that moment filled with grief and chagrin at losing her magic powers. She started away toward her home, sobbing and bewailing her fate, and not one who saw her go was at all sorry for her.

CHAPTER 20

Queen Gloria

Next morning the Scarecrow called upon all the courtiers and the people to assemble in the throne room of the castle, where there was room enough for all that were able to attend. They found the straw man seated upon the velvet cushions of the throne, with the King’s glittering crown still upon his stuffed head. On one side of the throne, in a lower chair, sat Gloria, looking radiantly beautiful and fresh as a new-blown rose. On the other side sat Pon, the gardener’s boy, still dressed in his old smock frock and looking sad and solemn; for Pon could not make himself believe that so splendid a Princess would condescend to love him when she had come to her own and was seated upon a throne. Trot and Cap’n Bill sat at the feet of the Scarecrow and were much interested in the proceedings. Button-Bright had lost himself before breakfast, but came into the throne room before the ceremonies were over. Back of the throne stood a row of the great Orks, with their leader in the center, and the entrance to the palace was guarded by more Orks, who were regarded with wonder and awe.

When all were assembled, the Scarecrow stood up and made a speech. He told how Gloria’s father, the good King Kynd, who had once ruled them and been loved by everyone, had been destroyed by King Phearse, the father of Pon, and how King Phearse had been destroyed by King Krewl. This last King had been a bad ruler, as they knew very well, and the Scarecrow declared that the only one in all Jinxland who had the right to sit upon the throne was Princess Gloria, the daughter of King Kynd.

“But,” he added, “it is not for me, a stranger, to say who shall rule you. You must decide for yourselves, or you will not be content. So choose now who shall be your future ruler.”

And they all shouted: “The Scarecrow! The Scarecrow shall rule us!”

Which proved that the stuffed man had made himself very popular by his conquest of King Krewl, and the people thought they would like him for their King. But the Scarecrow shook his head so vigorously that it became loose, and Trot had to pin it firmly to his body again.

“No,” said he, “I belong in the Land of Oz, where I am the humble servant of the lovely girl who rules us all the royal Ozma. You must choose one of your own inhabitants to rule over Jinxland. Who shall it be?”

They hesitated for a moment, and some few cried: “Pon!” but many more shouted: “Gloria!”

So the Scarecrow took Gloria’s hand and led her to the throne, where he first seated her and then took the glittering crown off his own head and placed it upon that of the young lady, where it nestled prettily amongst her soft curls. The people cheered and shouted then, kneeling before their new Queen; but Gloria leaned down and took Pon’s hand in both her own and raised him to the seat beside her.

“You shall have both a King and a Queen to care for you and to protect you, my dear subjects,” she said in a sweet voice, while her face glowed with happiness; “for Pon was a King’s son before he became a gardener’s boy, and because I love him he is to be my Royal Consort.”

That pleased them all, especially Pon, who realized that this was the most important moment of his life. Trot and Button-Bright and Cap’n Bill all congratulated him on winning the beautiful Gloria; but the Ork sneezed twice and said that in his opinion the young lady might have done better.

Then the Scarecrow ordered the guards to bring in the wicked Krewl, King no longer, and when he appeared, loaded with chains and dressed in fustian, the people hissed him and drew back as he passed so their garments would not touch him.

Krewl was not haughty or overbearing any more; on the contrary he seemed very meek and in great fear of the fate his conquerors had in store for him. But Gloria and Pon were too happy to be revengeful and so they offered to appoint Krewl to the position of gardener’s boy at the castle, Pon having resigned to become King. But they said he must promise to reform his wicked ways and to do his duty faithfully, and he must change his name from Krewl to Grewl. All this the man eagerly promised to do, and so when Pon retired to a room in the castle to put on princely raiment, the old brown smock he had formerly worn was given to Grewl, who then went out into the garden to water the roses.

The remainder of that famous day, which was long remembered in Jinxland, was given over to feasting and merrymaking. In the evening there was a grand dance in the courtyard, where the brass band played a new piece of music called the “Ork Trot” which was dedicated to “Our Glorious Gloria, the Queen.”

While the Queen and Pon were leading this dance, and all the Jinxland people were having a good time, the strangers were gathered in a group in the park outside the castle. Cap’n Bill, Trot, Button-Bright and the Scarecrow were there, and so was their old friend the Ork; but of all the great flock of Orks which had assisted in the conquest but three remained in Jinxland, besides their leader, the others having returned to their own country as soon as Gloria was crowned Queen. To the young Ork who had accompanied them in their adventures Cap’n Bill said:

“You’ve surely been a friend in need, and we’re mighty grateful to you for helping us. I might have been a grasshopper yet if it hadn’t been for you, an’ I might remark that bein’ a grasshopper isn’t much fun.”

“If it hadn’t been for you, friend Ork,” said the Scarecrow, “I fear I could not have conquered King Krewl.”

“No,” agreed Trot, “you’d have been just a heap of ashes by this time.”

“And I might have been lost yet,” added Button-Bright. “Much obliged, Mr. Ork.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” replied the Ork. “Friends must stand together, you know, or they wouldn’t be friends. But now I must leave you and be off to my own country, where there’s going to be a surprise party on my uncle, and I’ve promised to attend it.”

“Dear me,” said the Scarecrow, regretfully. “That is very unfortunate.”

“Why so?” asked the Ork.

“I hoped you would consent to carry us over those mountains, into the Land of Oz. My mission here is now finished and I want to get back to the Emerald City.”

“How did you cross the mountains before?” inquired the Ork.

“I scaled the cliffs by means of a rope, and crossed the Great Gulf on a strand of spider web. Of course I can return in the same manner, but it would be a hard journey and perhaps an impossible one for Trot and Button-Bright and Cap’n Bill. So I thought that if you had the time you and your people would carry us over the mountains and land us all safely on the other side, in the Land of Oz.”

The Ork thoughtfully considered the matter for a while. Then he said:

“I mustn’t break my promise to be present at the surprise party; but, tell me, could you go to Oz tonight?”

“What, now?” exclaimed Trot.

“It is a fine moonlight night,” said the Ork, “and I’ve found in my experience that there’s no time so good as right away. The fact is,” he explained, “it’s a long journey to Orkland and I and my cousins here are all rather tired by our day’s work. But if you will start now, and be content to allow us to carry you over the mountains and dump you on the other side, just say the word and—off we go!”

Cap’n Bill and Trot looked at one another questioningly. The little girl was eager to visit the famous fairyland of Oz and the old sailor had endured such hardships in Jinxland that he would be glad to be out of it.

“It’s rather impolite of us not to say good-bye to the new King and Queen,” remarked the Scarecrow, “but I’m sure they’re too happy to miss us, and I assure you it will be much easier to fly on the backs of the Orks over those steep mountains than to climb them as I did.”

“All right; let’s go!” Trot decided. “But where’s Button-Bright?”

Just at this important moment Button-Bright was lost again, and they all scattered in search of him. He had been standing beside them just a few minutes before, but his friends had an exciting hunt for him before they finally discovered the boy seated among the members of the band, beating the end of the bass drum with the bone of a turkey-leg that he had taken from the table in the banquet room.

“Hello, Trot,” he said, looking up at the little girl when she found him. “This is the first chance I ever had to pound a drum with a regular drum stick. And I ate all the meat off the bone myself.”

“Come quick. We’re going to the Land of Oz.”

“Oh, what’s the hurry?” said Button-Bright; but she seized his arm and dragged him away to the park, where the others were waiting.

Trot climbed upon the back of her old friend, the Ork leader, and the others took their seats on the backs of his three cousins. As soon as all were placed and clinging to the skinny necks of the creatures, the revolving tails began to whirl and up rose the four monster Orks and sailed away toward the mountains. They were so high in the air that when they passed the crest of the highest peak it seemed far below them. No sooner were they well across the barrier than the Orks swooped downward and landed their passengers upon the ground.

“Here we are, safe in the Land of Oz!’ cried the Scarecrow joyfully.

“Oh, are we?” asked Trot, looking around her curiously.

She could see the shadows of stately trees and the outlines of rolling hills; beneath her feet was soft turf, but otherwise the subdued light of the moon disclosed nothing clearly.

“Seems jus’ like any other country,” was Cap’n Bill’s comment.

“But it isn’t,” the Scarecrow assured him. “You are now within the borders of the most glorious fairyland in all the world. This part of it is just a corner of the Quadling Country, and the least interesting portion of it. It’s not very thickly settled, around here, I’ll admit, but—”

He was interrupted by a sudden whir and a rush of air as the four Orks mounted into the sky.

“Good night!” called the shrill voices of the strange creatures, and although Trot shouted “Good night!” as loudly as she could, the little girl was almost ready to cry because the Orks had not waited to be properly thanked for all their kindness to her and to Cap’n Bill.

But the Orks were gone, and thanks for good deeds do not amount to much except to prove one’s politeness.

“Well, friends,” said the Scarecrow, “we mustn’t stay here in the meadows all night, so let us find a pleasant place to sleep. Not that it matters to me, in the least, for I never sleep; but I know that meat people like to shut their eyes and lie still during the dark hours.”

“I’m pretty tired,” admitted Trot, yawning as she followed the straw man along a tiny path, “so, if you don’t find a house handy, Cap’n Bill and I will sleep under the trees, or even on this soft grass.”

But a house was not very far off, although when the Scarecrow stumbled upon it there was no light in it whatever. Cap’n Bill knocked on the door several times, and there being no response the Scarecrow boldly lifted the latch and walked in, followed by the others. And no sooner had they entered than a soft light filled the room. Trot couldn’t tell where it came from, for no lamp of any sort was visible, but she did not waste much time on this problem, because directly in the center of the room stood a table set for three, with lots of good food on it and several of the dishes smoking hot.

The little girl and Button-Bright both uttered exclamations of pleasure, but they looked in vain for any cook stove or fireplace, or for any person who might have prepared for them this delicious feast.

“It’s fairyland,” muttered the boy, tossing his cap in a corner and seating himself at the table. “This supper smells ’most as good as that turkey-leg I had in Jinxland. Please pass the muffins, Cap’n Bill.”

Trot thought it was strange that no people but themselves were in the house, but on the wall opposite the door was a gold frame bearing in big letters the word:

WELCOME.

So she had no further hesitation in eating of the food so mysteriously prepared for them.

“But there are only places for three!’ she exclaimed.

“Three are quite enough,” said the Scarecrow. “I never eat, because I am stuffed full already, and I like my nice clean straw better than I do food.”

Trot and the sailor-man were hungry and made a hearty meal, for not since they had left home had they tasted such good food. It was surprising that Button-Bright could eat so soon after his feast in Jinxland, but the boy always ate whenever there was an opportunity. “If I don’t eat now,” he said, “the next time I’m hungry I’ll wish I had.”

“Really, Cap’n,” remarked Trot, when she found a dish of ice-cream appear beside her plate, “I b’lieve this is fairyland, sure enough.”

“There’s no doubt of it, Trot,” he answered gravely.

“I’ve been here before,” said Button-Bright, “so I know.”

After supper they discovered three tiny bedrooms adjoining the big living room of the house, and in each room was a comfortable white bed with downy pillows. You may be sure that the tired mortals were not long in bidding the Scarecrow good night and creeping into their beds, where they slept soundly until morning.

For the first time since they set eyes on the terrible whirlpool, Trot and Cap’n Bill were free from anxiety and care. Button-Bright never worried about anything. The Scarecrow, not being able to sleep, looked out of the window and tried to count the stars.

CHAPTER 21

Dorothy, Betsy, and Ozma

I suppose many of my readers have read descriptions of the beautiful and magnificent Emerald City of Oz, so I need not describe it here, except to state that never has any city in any fairyland ever equaled this one in stately splendor. It lies almost exactly in the center of the Land of Oz, and in the center of the Emerald City rises the wall of glistening emeralds that surrounds the palace of Ozma. The palace is almost a city in itself and is inhabited by many of the Ruler’s especial friends and those who have won her confidence and favor.

As for Ozma herself, there are no words in any dictionary I can find that are fitted to describe this young girl’s beauty of mind and person. Merely to see her is to love her for her charming face and manners; to know her is to love her for her tender sympathy, her generous nature, her truth and honor. Born of a long line of Fairy Queens, Ozma is as nearly perfect as any fairy may be, and she is noted for her wisdom as well as for her other qualities. Her happy subjects adore their girl Ruler and each one considers her a comrade and protector.

At the time of which I write, Ozma’s best friend and most constant companion was a little Kansas girl named Dorothy, a mortal who had come to the Land of Oz in a very curious manner and had been offered a home in Ozma’s palace. Furthermore, Dorothy had been made a Princess of Oz, and was as much at home in the royal palace as was the gentle Ruler. She knew almost every part of the great country and almost all of its numerous inhabitants. Next to Ozma she was loved better than anyone in all Oz, for Dorothy was simple and sweet, seldom became angry and had such a friendly, chummy way that she made friends wherever she wandered. It was she who first brought the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Cowardly Lion to the Emerald City. Dorothy had also introduced to Ozma the Shaggy Man and the Hungry Tiger, as well as Billina the Yellow Hen, Eureka the Pink Kitten, and many other delightful characters and creatures. Coming as she did from our world, Dorothy was much like many other girls we know; so there were times when she was not so wise as she might have been, and other times when she was obstinate and got herself into trouble. But life in a fairyland had taught the little girl to accept all sorts of surprising things as matters-of-course, for while Dorothy was no fairy—but just as mortal as we are—she had seen more wonders than most mortals ever do.

Another little girl from our outside world also lived in Ozma’s palace. This was Betsy Bobbin, whose strange adventures had brought her to the Emerald City, where Ozma had cordially welcomed her. Betsy was a shy little thing and could never get used to the marvels that surrounded her, but she and Dorothy were firm friends and thought themselves very fortunate in being together in this delightful country.

One day Dorothy and Betsy were visiting Ozma in the girl Ruler’s private apartment, and among the things that especially interested them was Ozma’s Magic Picture, set in a handsome frame and hung upon the wall of the room. This picture was a magic one because it constantly changed its scenes and showed events and adventures happening in all parts of the world. Thus it was really a “moving picture” of life, and if the one who stood before it wished to know what any absent person was doing, the picture instantly showed that person, with his or her surroundings.

The two girls were not wishing to see anyone in particular, on this occasion, but merely enjoyed watching the shifting scenes, some of which were exceedingly curious and remarkable. Suddenly Dorothy exclaimed: “Why, there’s Button-Bright!” and this drew Ozma also to look at the picture, for she and Dorothy knew the boy well.

“Who is Button-Bright?” asked Betsy, who had never met him.

“Why, he’s the little boy who is just getting off the back of that strange flying creature,” exclaimed Dorothy. Then she turned to Ozma and asked: “What is that thing, Ozma? A bird? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“It is an Ork,” answered Ozma, for they were watching the scene where the Ork and the three big birds were first landing their passengers in Jinxland, after the long flight across the desert. “I wonder,” added the girl Ruler, musingly, “why those strangers dare venture into that unfortunate country, which is ruled by a wicked King.”

“That girl, and the one-legged man, seem to be mortals from the outside world,” said Dorothy.

“The man isn’t one-legged,” corrected Betsy; “he has one wooden leg.”

“It’s almost as bad,” declared Dorothy, watching Cap’n Bill stump around.

“They are three mortal adventurers,” said Ozma, “and they seem worthy and honest. But I fear they will be treated badly in Jinxland, and if they meet with any misfortune there it will reflect upon me, for Jinxland is a part of my dominions.”

“Can’t we help them in any way?” inquired Dorothy. “That seems like a nice little girl. I’d be sorry if anything happened to her.”

“Let us watch the picture for awhile,” suggested Ozma, and so they all drew chairs before the Magic Picture and followed the adventures of Trot and Cap’n Bill and Button-Bright. Presently the scene shifted and showed their friend the Scarecrow crossing the mountains into Jinxland, and that somewhat relieved Ozma’s anxiety, for she knew at once that Glinda the Good had sent the Scarecrow to protect the strangers.

The adventures in Jinxland proved very interesting to the three girls in Ozma’s palace, who during the succeeding days spent much of their time in watching the picture. It was like a story to them.

“That girl’s a reg’lar trump!’ exclaimed Dorothy, referring to Trot, and Ozma answered:

“She’s a dear little thing, and I’m sure nothing very bad will happen to her. The old sailor is a fine character, too, for he has never once grumbled over being a grasshopper, as so many would have done.”

When the Scarecrow was so nearly burned up the girls all shivered a little, and they clapped their hands in joy when the flock of Orks came and saved him.

So it was that when all the exciting adventures in Jinxland were over and the four Orks had begun their flight across the mountains to carry the mortals into the Land of Oz, Ozma called the Wizard to her and asked him to prepare a place for the strangers to sleep.

The famous Wizard of Oz was a quaint little man who inhabited the royal palace and attended to all the magical things that Ozma wanted done. He was not as powerful as Glinda, to be sure, but he could do a great many wonderful things. He proved this by placing a house in the uninhabited part of the Quadling Country where the Orks landed Cap’n Bill and Trot and Button-Bright, and fitting it with all the comforts I have described in the last chapter.

Next morning Dorothy said to Ozma:

“Oughtn’t we to go meet the strangers, so we can show them the way to the Emerald City? I’m sure that little girl will feel shy in this beautiful land, and I know if ’twas me I’d like somebody to give me a welcome.”

Ozma smiled at her little friend and answered:

“You and Betsy may go to meet them, if you wish, but I can not leave my palace just now, as I am to have a conference with Jack Pumpkinhead and Professor Woggle-Bug on important matters. You may take the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon, and if you start soon you will be able to meet the Scarecrow and the strangers at Glinda’s palace.”

“Oh, thank you!” cried Dorothy, and went away to tell Betsy and to make preparations for the journey.

CHAPTER 22

The Waterfall

Glinda’s castle was a long way from the mountains, but the Scarecrow began the journey cheerfully, since time was of no great importance in the Land of Oz and he had recently made the trip and knew the way. It never mattered much to Button-Bright where he was or what he was doing; the boy was content in being alive and having good companions to share his wanderings. As for Trot and Cap’n Bill, they now found themselves so comfortable and free from danger, in this fine fairyland, and they were so awed and amazed by the adventures they were encountering, that the journey to Glinda’s castle was more like a pleasure trip than a hardship, so many wonderful things were there to see.

Button-Bright had been in Oz before, but never in this part of it, so the Scarecrow was the only one who knew the paths and could lead them. They had eaten a hearty breakfast, which they found already prepared for them and awaiting them on the table when they arose from their refreshing sleep, so they left the magic house in a contented mood and with hearts lighter and more happy than they had known for many a day. As they marched along through the fields, the sun shone brightly and the breeze was laden with delicious fragrance, for it carried with it the breath of millions of wildflowers.

At noon, when they stopped to rest by the banks of a pretty river, Trot said with a long-drawn breath that was much like a sigh:

“I wish we’d brought with us some of the food that was left from our breakfast, for I’m getting hungry again.”

Scarcely had she spoken when a table rose up before them, as if from the ground itself, and it was loaded with fruits and nuts and cakes and many other good things to eat. The little girl’s eyes opened wide at this display of magic, and Cap’n Bill was not sure that the things were actually there and fit to eat until he had taken them in his hand and tasted them. But the Scarecrow said with a laugh:

“Someone is looking after your welfare, that is certain, and from the looks of this table I suspect my friend the Wizard has taken us in his charge. I’ve known him to do things like this before, and if we are in the Wizard’s care you need not worry about your future.”

“Who’s worrying?” inquired Button-Bright, already at the table and busily eating.

The Scarecrow looked around the place while the others were feasting, and finding many things unfamiliar to him he shook his head and remarked:

“I must have taken the wrong path, back in that last valley, for on my way to Jinxland I remember that I passed around the foot of this river, where there was a great waterfall.”

“Did the river make a bend, after the waterfall?” asked Cap’n Bill.

“No, the river disappeared. Only a pool of whirling water showed what had become of the river; but I suppose it is under ground, somewhere, and will come to the surface again in another part of the country.”

“Well,” suggested Trot, as she finished her luncheon, “as there is no way to cross this river, I s’pose we’ll have to find that waterfall, and go around it.”

“Exactly,” replied the Scarecrow; so they soon renewed their journey, following the river for a long time until the roar of the waterfall sounded in their ears. By and by they came to the waterfall itself, a sheet of silver dropping far, far down into a tiny lake which seemed to have no outlet. From the top of the fall, where they stood, the banks gradually sloped away, so that the descent by land was quite easy, while the river could do nothing but glide over an edge of rock and tumble straight down to the depths below.

“You see,” said the Scarecrow, leaning over the brink, “this is called by our Oz people the Great Waterfall, because it is certainly the highest one in all the land; but I think—Help!”

He had lost his balance and pitched headforemost into the river. They saw a flash of straw and blue clothes, and the painted face looking upward in surprise. The next moment the Scarecrow was swept over the waterfall and plunged into the basin below.

The accident had happened so suddenly that for a moment they were all too horrified to speak or move.

“Quick! We must go to help him or he will be drowned,” Trot exclaimed.

Even while speaking she began to descend the bank to the pool below, and Cap’n Bill followed as swiftly as his wooden leg would let him. Button-Bright came more slowly, calling to the girl:

“He can’t drown, Trot; he’s a Scarecrow.”

But she wasn’t sure a Scarecrow couldn’t drown and never relaxed her speed until she stood on the edge of the pool, with the spray dashing in her face. Cap’n Bill, puffing and panting, had just voice enough to ask, as he reached her side:

“See him, Trot?”

“Not a speck of him. Oh, Cap’n, what do you s’pose has become of him?”

“I s’pose,” replied the sailor, “that he’s in that water, more or less far down, and I’m ’fraid it’ll make his straw pretty soggy. But as fer his bein’ drowned, I agree with Button-Bright that it can’t be done.”

There was small comfort in this assurance and Trot stood for some time searching with her eyes the bubbling water, in the hope that the Scarecrow would finally come to the surface. Presently she heard Button-Bright calling: “Come here, Trot!” and looking around she saw that the boy had crept over the wet rocks to the edge of the waterfall and seemed to be peering behind it. Making her way toward him, she asked:

“What do you see?”

“A cave,” he answered. “Let’s go in. Perhaps we’ll find the Scarecrow there.”

She was a little doubtful of that, but the cave interested her, and so did it Cap’n Bill. There was just space enough at the edge of the sheet of water for them to crowd in behind it, but after that dangerous entrance they found room enough to walk upright and after a time they came to an opening in the w r all of rock. Approaching this opening, they gazed within it and found a series of steps, cut so that they might easily descend into the cavern.

Trot turned to look inquiringly at her companions. The falling water made such din and roaring that her voice could not be heard. Cap’n Bill nodded his head, but before he could enter the cave, Button-Bright was before him, clambering down the steps without a particle of fear. So the others followed the boy.

The first steps were wet with spray, and slippery, but the remainder were quite dry. A rosy light seemed to come from the interior of the cave, and this lighted their way. After the steps there was a short tunnel, high enough for them to walk erect in, and then they reached the cave itself and paused in wonder and admiration.

They stood on the edge of a vast cavern, the walls and domed roof of which were lined with countless rubies, exquisitely cut and flashing sparkling rays from one to another. This caused a radiant light that permitted the entire cavern to be distinctly seen, and the effect was so marvelous that Trot drew in her breath with a sort of a gasp, and stood quite still in wonder.

But the walls and roof of the cavern were merely a setting for a more wonderful scene. In the center was a bubbling cauldron of water, for here the river rose again, splashing and dashing till its spray rose high in the air, where it took the ruby color of the jewels and seemed like a seething mass of flame. And while they gazed into the tumbling, tossing water, the body of the Scarecrow suddenly rose in the center, struggling and kicking, and the next instant wholly disappeared from view.

“My, but he’s wet!” exclaimed Button-Bright; but none of the others heard him.

Trot and Cap’n Bill discovered that a broad ledge—covered, like the walls, with glittering rubies—ran all around the cavern; so they followed this gorgeous path to the rear and found where the water made its final dive underground, before it disappeared entirely. Where it plunged into this dim abyss the river was black and dreary looking, and they stood gazing in awe until just beside them the body of the Scarecrow again popped up from the water.

CHAPTER 23

The Land of Oz

The straw man’s appearance on the water was so sudden that it startled Trot, but Cap’n Bill had the presence of mind to stick his wooden leg out over the water and the Scarecrow made a desperate clutch and grabbed the leg with both hands. He managed to hold on until Trot and Button-Bright knelt down and seized his clothing, but the children would have been powerless to drag the soaked Scarecrow ashore had not Cap’n Bill now assisted them. When they laid him on the ledge of rubies he was the most useless looking Scarecrow you can imagine—his straw sodden and dripping with water, his clothing wet and crumpled, while even the sack upon which his face was painted had become so wrinkled that the old jolly expression of their stuffed friend’s features was entirely gone. But he could still speak, and when Trot bent down her ear she heard him say:

“Get me out of here as soon as you can.”

That seemed a wise thing to do, so Cap’n Bill lifted his head and shoulders, and Trot and Button-Bright each took a leg; among them they partly carried and partly dragged the damp Scarecrow out of the Ruby Cavern, along the tunnel, and up the flight of rock steps. It was somewhat difficult to get him past the edge of the waterfall, but they succeeded, after much effort, and a few minutes later laid their poor comrade on a grassy bank where the sun shone upon him freely and he was beyond the reach of the spray.

Cap’n Bill now knelt down and examined the straw that the Scarecrow was stuffed with.

“I don’t believe it’ll be of much use to him, any more,” said he, “for it’s full of polliwogs an’ fish eggs, an’ the water has took all the crinkle out o’ the straw an’ ruined it. I guess, Trot, that the best thing for us to do is to empty out all his body an’ carry his head an’ clothes along the road till we come to a field or a house where we can get some fresh straw.”

“Yes, Cap’n,” she agreed, “there’s nothing else to be done. But how shall we ever find the road to Glinda’s palace, without the Scarecrow to guide us?”

“That’s easy,” said the Scarecrow, speaking in a rather feeble but distinct voice. “If Cap’n Bill will carry my head on his shoulders, eyes front, I can tell him which way to go.”

So they followed that plan and emptied all the old, wet straw out of the Scarecrow’s body. Then the sailor-man wrung out the clothes and laid them in the sun till they were quite dry. Trot took charge of the head and pressed the wrinkles out of the face as it dried, so that after a while the Scarecrow’s expression became natural again, and as jolly as before.

This work consumed some time, but when it was completed they again started upon their journey, Button-Bright carrying the boots and hat, Trot the bundle of clothes, and Cap’n Bill the head. The Scarecrow, having regained his composure and being now in a good humor, despite his recent mishaps, beguiled their way with stories of the Land of Oz.

It was not until the next morning, however, that they found straw with which to re-stuff the Scarecrow. That evening they came to the same little house they had slept in before, only now it was magically transferred to a new place. The same bountiful supper as before was found smoking hot upon the table and the same cozy beds were ready for them to sleep in.

They rose early and after breakfast went out of doors, and there, lying just beside the house, was a heap of clean, crisp straw. Ozma had noticed the Scarecrow’s accident in her Magic Picture and had notified the Wizard to provide the straw, for she knew the adventurers were not likely to find straw in the country through which they were now traveling.

They lost no time in stuffing the Scarecrow anew, and he was greatly delighted at being able to walk around again and to assume the leadership of the little party.

“Really,” said Trot, “I think you’re better than you were before, for you are fresh and sweet all through and rustle beautifully when you move.”

“Thank you, my dear,” he replied gratefully. “I always feel like a new man when I’m freshly stuffed. No one likes to get musty, you know, and even good straw may be spoiled by age.”

“It was water that spoiled you, the last time,” remarked Button-Bright, “which proves that too much bathing is as bad as too little. But, after all, Scarecrow, water is not as dangerous for you as fire.”

“All things are good in moderation,” declared the Scarecrow. “But now, let us hurry on, or we shall not reach Glinda’s palace by nightfall.”

CHAPTER 24

The Royal Reception

At about four o’clock of that same day, the Red Wagon drew up at the entrance to Glinda’s palace and Dorothy and Betsy jumped out. Ozma’s Red Wagon was almost a chariot, being inlaid with rubies and pearls, and it was drawn by Ozma’s favorite steed, the wooden Sawhorse.

“Shall I unharness you,” asked Dorothy, “so you can come in and visit?”

“No,” replied the Sawhorse. “Til just stand here and think. Take your time. Thinking doesn’t seem to bore me at all.”

“What will you think of?” inquired Betsy.

“Of the acorn that grew the tree from which I was made.”

So they left the wooden animal and went in to see Glinda, who welcomed the little girls in her most cordial manner.

“I knew you were on your way,” said the good Sorceress when they were seated in her library, “for I learned from my Record Book that you intended to meet Trot and Button-Bright on their arrival here.”

“Is the strange little girl named Trot?’ asked Dorothy.

“Yes; and her companion, the old sailor, is named Cap’n Bill. I think we shall like them very much, for they are just the kind of people to enjoy and appreciate our fairyland and I do not see any way, at present, for them to return again to the outside world.”

“Well, there’s room enough here for them, I’m sure,” said Dorothy. “Betsy and I are already eager to welcome Trot. It will keep us busy for a year, at least, showing her all the wonderful things in Oz.”

Glinda smiled.

“I have lived here many years,” said she, “and I have not seen all the wonders of Oz yet.”

Meantime the travelers were drawing near to the palace, and when they first caught sight of its towers Trot realized that it was far more grand and imposing than was the King’s castle in Jinxland. The nearer they came, the more beautiful the palace appeared, and when finally the Scarecrow led them up the great marble steps, even Button-Bright was filled with awe.

“I don’t see any soldiers to guard the place,” said the little girl.

“There is no need to guard Glinda’s palace,” replied the Scarecrow. “We have no wicked people in Oz, that we know of, and even if there were any, Glinda’s magic would be powerful enough to protect her.”

Button-Bright was now standing on the top steps of the entrance, and he suddenly exclaimed:

“Why, there’s the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon! Hip, hooray!” and next moment he was rushing down to throw his arms around the neck of the wooden horse, which good-naturedly permitted this familiarity when it recognized in the boy an old friend.

Button-Bright’s shout had been heard inside the palace, so now Dorothy and Betsy came running out to embrace their beloved friend, the Scarecrow, and to welcome Trot and Cap’n Bill to the Land of Oz.

“We’ve been watching you for a long time, in Ozma’s Magic Picture,” said Dorothy, “and Ozma has sent us to invite you to her own palace in the Em’rald City. I don’t know if you realize how lucky you are to get that invitation, but you’ll understand it better after you’ve seen the royal palace and the Em’rald City.”

Glinda now appeared in person to lead all the party into her Azure Reception Room. Trot was a little afraid of the stately Sorceress, but gained courage by holding fast to the hands of Betsy and Dorothy. Cap’n Bill had no one to help him feel at ease, so the old sailor sat stiffly on the edge of his chair and said: “Yes, ma’am,” or “No, ma’am,” when he was spoken to, and was greatly embarrassed by so much splendor.

The Scarecrow had lived so much in palaces that he felt quite at home, and he chatted to Glinda and the Oz girls in a merry, light-hearted way. He told all about his adventures in Jinxland, and at the Great Waterfall, and on the journey hither—most of which his hearers knew already—and then he asked Dorothy and Betsy what had happened in the Emerald City since he had left there.

They all passed the evening and the night at Glinda’s palace, and the Sorceress was so gracious to Cap’n Bill that the old man by degrees regained his self-possession and began to enjoy himself. Trot had already come to the conclusion that in Dorothy and Betsy she had found two delightful comrades, and Button-Bright was just as much at home here as he had been in the fields of Jinxland or when he was buried in the popcorn snow of the Land of Mo.

The next morning they arose bright and early and after breakfast bade good-bye to the kind Sorceress, whom Trot and Cap’n Bill thanked earnestly for sending the Scarecrow to Jinxland to rescue them. Then they all climbed into the Red Wagon.

There was room for all on the broad seats, and when all had taken their places—Dorothy, Trot and Betsy on the rear seat and Cap’n Bill, Button-Bright and the Scarecrow in front—they called “Gid-dap!” to the Sawhorse and the wooden steed moved briskly away, pulling the Red Wagon with ease.

It was now that the strangers began to perceive the real beauties of the Land of Oz, for they were passing through a more thickly settled part of the country and the population grew more dense as they drew nearer to the Emerald City. Everyone they met had a cheery word or a smile for the Scarecrow, Dorothy and Betsy Bobbin, and some of them remembered Button-Bright and welcomed him back to their country.

It was a happy party, indeed, that journeyed in the Red Wagon to the Emerald City, and Trot already began to hope that Ozma would permit her and Cap’n Bill to live always in the Land of Oz.

When they reached the great city they were more amazed than ever, both by the concourse of people in their quaint and picturesque costumes, and by the splendor of the city itself. But the magnificence of the Royal Palace quite took their breath away, until Ozma received them in her own pretty apartment and by her charming manners and assuring smiles made them feel they were no longer strangers.

Trot was given a lovely little room next to that of Dorothy, while Cap’n Bill had the coziest sort of a room next to Trot’s and overlooking the gardens. And that evening Ozma gave a grand banquet and reception in honor of the new arrivals. While Trot had read of many of the people she then met, Cap’n Bill was less familiar with them and many of the unusual characters introduced to him that evening caused the old sailor to open his eyes wide in astonishment.

He had thought the live Scarecrow about as curious as anyone could be, but now he met the Tin Woodman, who was all made of tin, even to his heart, and carried a gleaming axe over his shoulder wherever he went. Then there was Jack Pumpkinhead, whose head was a real pumpkin with the face carved upon it; and Professor Woggle-Bug, who had the shape of an enormous bug but was dressed in neat fitting garments. The Professor was an interesting talker and had very polite manners, but his face was so comical that it made Cap’n Bill smile to look at it. A great friend of Dorothy and Ozma seemed to be a machine man called Tik-Tok, who ran down several times during the evening and had to be wound up again by someone before he could move or speak.

At the reception appeared the Shaggy Man and his brother, both very popular in Oz, as well as Dorothy’s Uncle Henry and Aunt Em, two happy old people who lived in a pretty cottage near the palace.

But what perhaps seemed most surprising to both Trot and Cap’n Bill was the number of peculiar animals admitted into Ozma’s parlors, where they not only conducted themselves quite properly but were able to talk as well as anyone.

There was the Cowardly Lion, an immense beast with a beautiful mane; and the Hungry Tiger, who smiled continually; and Eureka the Pink Kitten, who lay curled upon a cushion and had rather supercilious manners; and the wooden Sawhorse; and nine tiny piglets that belonged to the Wizard; and a mule named Hank, who belonged to Betsy Bobbin. A fuzzy little terrier dog, named Toto, lay at Dorothy’s feet but seldom took part in the conversation, although he listened to every word that was said. But the most wonderful of all to Trot was a square beast with a winning smile, that squatted in a corner of the room and wagged his square head at everyone in quite a jolly way. Betsy told Trot that this unique beast was called the Woozy, and there was no other like him in all the world.

Cap’n Bill and Trot had both looked around expectantly for the Wizard of Oz, but the evening was far advanced before the famous little man entered the room. But he went up to the strangers at once and said:

“I know you, but you don’t know me; so let’s get acquainted.”

And they did get acquainted, in a very short time, and before the evening was over Trot felt that she knew every person and animal present at the reception, and that they were all her good friends.

Suddenly they looked around for Button-Bright, but he was nowhere to be found.

“Dear me!” cried Trot. “He’s lost again.”

“Never mind, my dear,” said Ozma, with her charming smile, “no one can go far astray in the Land of Oz, and if Button-Bright isn’t lost occasionally, he isn’t happy.”