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The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
by

L. Frank Baum

Contents
Introduction
1.  The Cyclone
2.  The Council with the Munchkins
3.  How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow
4.  The Road Through the Forest
5.  The Rescue of the Tin Woodman
6.  The Cowardly Lion
7.  The Journey to the Great Oz
8.  The Deadly Poppy Field
9.  The Queen of the Field Mice
10.  The Guardian of the Gates
11.  The Emerald City of Oz
12.  The Search for the Wicked Witch
13.  The Rescue
14.  The Winged Monkeys
15.  The Discovery of Oz the Terrible
16.  The Magic Art of the Great Humbug
17.  How the Balloon Was Launched
18.  Away to the South
19.  Attacked by the Fighting Trees
20.  The Dainty China Country
21.  The Lion Becomes the King of Beasts
22.  The Country of the Quadlings
23.  Glinda The Good Witch Grants Dorothy’s Wish
24.  Home Again

Introduction

Folklore, legends, myths and fairy tales have followed childhood
through the ages, for every healthy youngster has a wholesome and
instinctive love for stories fantastic, marvelous and manifestly
unreal.  The winged fairies of Grimm and Andersen have brought more
happiness to childish hearts than all other human creations.

Yet the old time fairy tale, having served for generations, may now be
classed as “historical” in the children’s library; for the time has
come for a series of newer “wonder tales” in which the stereotyped
genie, dwarf and fairy are eliminated, together with all the horrible
and blood-curdling incidents devised by their authors to point a
fearsome moral to each tale.  Modern education includes morality;
therefore the modern child seeks only entertainment in its wonder tales
and gladly dispenses with all disagreeable incident.

Having this thought in mind, the story of “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz”
was written solely to please children of today.  It aspires to being a
modernized fairy tale, in which the wonderment and joy are retained and
the heartaches and nightmares are left out.

L. Frank Baum

Chicago, April, 1900.

THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ

1.  The Cyclone

Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies, with Uncle
Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer’s wife.  Their
house was small, for the lumber to build it had to be carried by wagon
many miles.  There were four walls, a floor and a roof, which made one
room; and this room contained a rusty looking cookstove, a cupboard for
the dishes, a table, three or four chairs, and the beds.  Uncle Henry
and Aunt Em had a big bed in one corner, and Dorothy a little bed in
another corner.  There was no garret at all, and no cellar–except a
small hole dug in the ground, called a cyclone cellar, where the family
could go in case one of those great whirlwinds arose, mighty enough to
crush any building in its path.  It was reached by a trap door in the
middle of the floor, from which a ladder led down into the small, dark
hole.

When Dorothy stood in the doorway and looked around, she could see
nothing but the great gray prairie on every side.  Not a tree nor a
house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached to the edge of
the sky in all directions.  The sun had baked the plowed land into a
gray mass, with little cracks running through it.  Even the grass was
not green, for the sun had burned the tops of the long blades until
they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere.  Once the house
had been painted, but the sun blistered the paint and the rains washed
it away, and now the house was as dull and gray as everything else.

When Aunt Em came there to live she was a young, pretty wife.  The sun
and wind had changed her, too.  They had taken the sparkle from her
eyes and left them a sober gray; they had taken the red from her cheeks
and lips, and they were gray also.  She was thin and gaunt, and never
smiled now.  When Dorothy, who was an orphan, first came to her, Aunt
Em had been so startled by the child’s laughter that she would scream
and press her hand upon her heart whenever Dorothy’s merry voice
reached her ears; and she still looked at the little girl with wonder
that she could find anything to laugh at.

Uncle Henry never laughed.  He worked hard from morning till night and
did not know what joy was.  He was gray also, from his long beard to
his rough boots, and he looked stern and solemn, and rarely spoke.

It was Toto that made Dorothy laugh, and saved her from growing as gray
as her other surroundings.  Toto was not gray; he was a little black
dog, with long silky hair and small black eyes that twinkled merrily on
either side of his funny, wee nose.  Toto played all day long, and
Dorothy played with him, and loved him dearly.

Today, however, they were not playing.  Uncle Henry sat upon the
doorstep and looked anxiously at the sky, which was even grayer than
usual.  Dorothy stood in the door with Toto in her arms, and looked at
the sky too.  Aunt Em was washing the dishes.

From the far north they heard a low wail of the wind, and Uncle Henry
and Dorothy could see where the long grass bowed in waves before the
coming storm.  There now came a sharp whistling in the air from the
south, and as they turned their eyes that way they saw ripples in the
grass coming from that direction also.

Suddenly Uncle Henry stood up.

“There’s a cyclone coming, Em,” he called to his wife.  “I’ll go look
after the stock.”  Then he ran toward the sheds where the cows and
horses were kept.

Aunt Em dropped her work and came to the door.  One glance told her of
the danger close at hand.

“Quick, Dorothy!” she screamed.  “Run for the cellar!”

Toto jumped out of Dorothy’s arms and hid under the bed, and the girl
started to get him.  Aunt Em, badly frightened, threw open the trap
door in the floor and climbed down the ladder into the small, dark
hole.  Dorothy caught Toto at last and started to follow her aunt.
When she was halfway across the room there came a great shriek from the
wind, and the house shook so hard that she lost her footing and sat
down suddenly upon the floor.

Then a strange thing happened.

The house whirled around two or three times and rose slowly through the
air.  Dorothy felt as if she were going up in a balloon.

The north and south winds met where the house stood, and made it the
exact center of the cyclone.  In the middle of a cyclone the air is
generally still, but the great pressure of the wind on every side of
the house raised it up higher and higher, until it was at the very top
of the cyclone; and there it remained and was carried miles and miles
away as easily as you could carry a feather.

It was very dark, and the wind howled horribly around her, but Dorothy
found she was riding quite easily.  After the first few whirls around,
and one other time when the house tipped badly, she felt as if she were
being rocked gently, like a baby in a cradle.

Toto did not like it.  He ran about the room, now here, now there,
barking loudly; but Dorothy sat quite still on the floor and waited to
see what would happen.

Once Toto got too near the open trap door, and fell in; and at first
the little girl thought she had lost him.  But soon she saw one of his
ears sticking up through the hole, for the strong pressure of the air
was keeping him up so that he could not fall.  She crept to the hole,
caught Toto by the ear, and dragged him into the room again, afterward
closing the trap door so that no more accidents could happen.

Hour after hour passed away, and slowly Dorothy got over her fright;
but she felt quite lonely, and the wind shrieked so loudly all about
her that she nearly became deaf.  At first she had wondered if she
would be dashed to pieces when the house fell again; but as the hours
passed and nothing terrible happened, she stopped worrying and resolved
to wait calmly and see what the future would bring.  At last she
crawled over the swaying floor to her bed, and lay down upon it; and
Toto followed and lay down beside her.

In spite of the swaying of the house and the wailing of the wind,
Dorothy soon closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.

2.  The Council with the Munchkins

She was awakened by a shock, so sudden and severe that if Dorothy had
not been lying on the soft bed she might have been hurt.  As it was,
the jar made her catch her breath and wonder what had happened; and
Toto put his cold little nose into her face and whined dismally.
Dorothy sat up and noticed that the house was not moving; nor was it
dark, for the bright sunshine came in at the window, flooding the
little room.  She sprang from her bed and with Toto at her heels ran
and opened the door.

The little girl gave a cry of amazement and looked about her, her eyes
growing bigger and bigger at the wonderful sights she saw.

The cyclone had set the house down very gently–for a cyclone–in the
midst of a country of marvelous beauty.  There were lovely patches of
greensward all about, with stately trees bearing rich and luscious
fruits.  Banks of gorgeous flowers were on every hand, and birds with
rare and brilliant plumage sang and fluttered in the trees and bushes.
A little way off was a small brook, rushing and sparkling along between
green banks, and murmuring in a voice very grateful to a little girl
who had lived so long on the dry, gray prairies.

While she stood looking eagerly at the strange and beautiful sights,
she noticed coming toward her a group of the queerest people she had
ever seen.  They were not as big as the grown folk she had always been
used to; but neither were they very small.  In fact, they seemed about
as tall as Dorothy, who was a well-grown child for her age, although
they were, so far as looks go, many years older.

Three were men and one a woman, and all were oddly dressed.  They wore
round hats that rose to a small point a foot above their heads, with
little bells around the brims that tinkled sweetly as they moved.  The
hats of the men were blue; the little woman’s hat was white, and she
wore a white gown that hung in pleats from her shoulders.  Over it were
sprinkled little stars that glistened in the sun like diamonds.  The
men were dressed in blue, of the same shade as their hats, and wore
well-polished boots with a deep roll of blue at the tops.  The men,
Dorothy thought, were about as old as Uncle Henry, for two of them had
beards.  But the little woman was doubtless much older.  Her face was
covered with wrinkles, her hair was nearly white, and she walked rather
stiffly.

When these people drew near the house where Dorothy was standing in the
doorway, they paused and whispered among themselves, as if afraid to
come farther.  But the little old woman walked up to Dorothy, made a
low bow and said, in a sweet voice:

“You are welcome, most noble Sorceress, to the land of the Munchkins.
We are so grateful to you for having killed the Wicked Witch of the
East, and for setting our people free from bondage.”

Dorothy listened to this speech with wonder.  What could the little
woman possibly mean by calling her a sorceress, and saying she had
killed the Wicked Witch of the East?  Dorothy was an innocent, harmless
little girl, who had been carried by a cyclone many miles from home;
and she had never killed anything in all her life.

But the little woman evidently expected her to answer; so Dorothy said,
with hesitation, “You are very kind, but there must be some mistake.  I
have not killed anything.”

“Your house did, anyway,” replied the little old woman, with a laugh,
“and that is the same thing.  See!” she continued, pointing to the
corner of the house.  “There are her two feet, still sticking out from
under a block of wood.”

Dorothy looked, and gave a little cry of fright.  There, indeed, just
under the corner of the great beam the house rested on, two feet were
sticking out, shod in silver shoes with pointed toes.

“Oh, dear!  Oh, dear!” cried Dorothy, clasping her hands together in
dismay.  “The house must have fallen on her.  Whatever shall we do?”

“There is nothing to be done,” said the little woman calmly.

“But who was she?” asked Dorothy.

“She was the Wicked Witch of the East, as I said,” answered the little
woman.  “She has held all the Munchkins in bondage for many years,
making them slave for her night and day.  Now they are all set free,
and are grateful to you for the favor.”

“Who are the Munchkins?” inquired Dorothy.

“They are the people who live in this land of the East
where the Wicked Witch ruled.”

“Are you a Munchkin?” asked Dorothy.

“No, but I am their friend, although I live in the land of the North.
When they saw the Witch of the East was dead the Munchkins sent a swift
messenger to me, and I came at once.  I am the Witch of the North.”

“Oh, gracious!” cried Dorothy.  “Are you a real witch?”

“Yes, indeed,” answered the little woman.  “But I am a good witch, and
the people love me.  I am not as powerful as the Wicked Witch was who
ruled here, or I should have set the people free myself.”

“But I thought all witches were wicked,” said the girl, who was half
frightened at facing a real witch.  “Oh, no, that is a great mistake.
There were only four witches in all the Land of Oz, and two of them,
those who live in the North and the South, are good witches.  I know
this is true, for I am one of them myself, and cannot be mistaken.
Those who dwelt in the East and the West were, indeed, wicked witches;
but now that you have killed one of them, there is but one Wicked Witch
in all the Land of Oz–the one who lives in the West.”

“But,” said Dorothy, after a moment’s thought, “Aunt Em has told me
that the witches were all dead–years and years ago.”

“Who is Aunt Em?” inquired the little old woman.

“She is my aunt who lives in Kansas, where I came from.”

The Witch of the North seemed to think for a time, with her head bowed
and her eyes upon the ground.  Then she looked up and said, “I do not
know where Kansas is, for I have never heard that country mentioned
before.  But tell me, is it a civilized country?”

“Oh, yes,” replied Dorothy.

“Then that accounts for it.  In the civilized countries I believe there
are no witches left, nor wizards, nor sorceresses, nor magicians.  But,
you see, the Land of Oz has never been civilized, for we are cut off
from all the rest of the world.  Therefore we still have witches and
wizards amongst us.”

“Who are the wizards?” asked Dorothy.

“Oz himself is the Great Wizard,” answered the Witch, sinking her voice
to a whisper.  “He is more powerful than all the rest of us together.
He lives in the City of Emeralds.”

Dorothy was going to ask another question, but just then the Munchkins,
who had been standing silently by, gave a loud shout and pointed to the
corner of the house where the Wicked Witch had been lying.

“What is it?” asked the little old woman, and looked, and began to
laugh.  The feet of the dead Witch had disappeared entirely, and
nothing was left but the silver shoes.

“She was so old,” explained the Witch of the North, “that she dried up
quickly in the sun.  That is the end of her.  But the silver shoes are
yours, and you shall have them to wear.” She reached down and picked up
the shoes, and after shaking the dust out of them handed them to
Dorothy.

“The Witch of the East was proud of those silver shoes,” said one of
the Munchkins, “and there is some charm connected with them; but what
it is we never knew.”

Dorothy carried the shoes into the house and placed them on the table.
Then she came out again to the Munchkins and said:

“I am anxious to get back to my aunt and uncle, for I am sure they will
worry about me.  Can you help me find my way?”

The Munchkins and the Witch first looked at one another, and then at
Dorothy, and then shook their heads.

“At the East, not far from here,” said one, “there is a great desert,
and none could live to cross it.”

“It is the same at the South,” said another, “for I have been there and
seen it.  The South is the country of the Quadlings.”

“I am told,” said the third man, “that it is the same at the West.  And
that country, where the Winkies live, is ruled by the Wicked Witch of
the West, who would make you her slave if you passed her way.”

“The North is my home,” said the old lady, “and at its edge is the same
great desert that surrounds this Land of Oz.  I’m afraid, my dear, you
will have to live with us.”

Dorothy began to sob at this, for she felt lonely among all these
strange people.  Her tears seemed to grieve the kind-hearted Munchkins,
for they immediately took out their handkerchiefs and began to weep
also.  As for the little old woman, she took off her cap and balanced
the point on the end of her nose, while she counted “One, two, three”
in a solemn voice.  At once the cap changed to a slate, on which was
written in big, white chalk marks:

“LET DOROTHY GO TO THE CITY OF EMERALDS”

The little old woman took the slate from her nose, and having read the
words on it, asked, “Is your name Dorothy, my dear?”

“Yes,” answered the child, looking up and drying her tears.

“Then you must go to the City of Emeralds.  Perhaps Oz will help you.”

“Where is this city?” asked Dorothy.

“It is exactly in the center of the country, and is ruled by Oz, the
Great Wizard I told you of.”

“Is he a good man?” inquired the girl anxiously.

“He is a good Wizard.  Whether he is a man or not I cannot tell, for I
have never seen him.”

“How can I get there?” asked Dorothy.

“You must walk.  It is a long journey, through a country that is
sometimes pleasant and sometimes dark and terrible.  However, I will
use all the magic arts I know of to keep you from harm.”

“Won’t you go with me?” pleaded the girl, who had begun to look upon
the little old woman as her only friend.

“No, I cannot do that,” she replied, “but I will give you my kiss, and
no one will dare injure a person who has been kissed by the Witch of
the North.”

She came close to Dorothy and kissed her gently on the forehead.  Where
her lips touched the girl they left a round, shining mark, as Dorothy
found out soon after.

“The road to the City of Emeralds is paved with yellow brick,” said the
Witch, “so you cannot miss it.  When you get to Oz do not be afraid of
him, but tell your story and ask him to help you.  Good-bye, my dear.”

The three Munchkins bowed low to her and wished her a pleasant journey,
after which they walked away through the trees.  The Witch gave Dorothy
a friendly little nod, whirled around on her left heel three times, and
straightway disappeared, much to the surprise of little Toto, who
barked after her loudly enough when she had gone, because he had been
afraid even to growl while she stood by.

But Dorothy, knowing her to be a witch, had expected her to disappear
in just that way, and was not surprised in the least.

3.  How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow

When Dorothy was left alone she began to feel hungry.  So she went to
the cupboard and cut herself some bread, which she spread with butter.
She gave some to Toto, and taking a pail from the shelf she carried it
down to the little brook and filled it with clear, sparkling water.
Toto ran over to the trees and began to bark at the birds sitting
there.  Dorothy went to get him, and saw such delicious fruit hanging
from the branches that she gathered some of it, finding it just what
she wanted to help out her breakfast.

Then she went back to the house, and having helped herself and Toto to
a good drink of the cool, clear water, she set about making ready for
the journey to the City of Emeralds.

Dorothy had only one other dress, but that happened to be clean and was
hanging on a peg beside her bed.  It was gingham, with checks of white
and blue; and although the blue was somewhat faded with many washings,
it was still a pretty frock.  The girl washed herself carefully,
dressed herself in the clean gingham, and tied her pink sunbonnet on
her head.  She took a little basket and filled it with bread from the
cupboard, laying a white cloth over the top.  Then she looked down at
her feet and noticed how old and worn her shoes were.

“They surely will never do for a long journey, Toto,” she said.  And
Toto looked up into her face with his little black eyes and wagged his
tail to show he knew what she meant.

At that moment Dorothy saw lying on the table the silver shoes that had
belonged to the Witch of the East.

“I wonder if they will fit me,” she said to Toto.  “They would be just
the thing to take a long walk in, for they could not wear out.”

She took off her old leather shoes and tried on the silver ones, which
fitted her as well as if they had been made for her.

Finally she picked up her basket.

“Come along, Toto,” she said.  “We will go to the Emerald City and ask
the Great Oz how to get back to Kansas again.”

She closed the door, locked it, and put the key carefully in the pocket
of her dress.  And so, with Toto trotting along soberly behind her, she
started on her journey.

There were several roads near by, but it did not take her long to find
the one paved with yellow bricks.  Within a short time she was walking
briskly toward the Emerald City, her silver shoes tinkling merrily on
the hard, yellow road-bed.  The sun shone bright and the birds sang
sweetly, and Dorothy did not feel nearly so bad as you might think a
little girl would who had been suddenly whisked away from her own
country and set down in the midst of a strange land.

She was surprised, as she walked along, to see how pretty the country
was about her.  There were neat fences at the sides of the road,
painted a dainty blue color, and beyond them were fields of grain and
vegetables in abundance.  Evidently the Munchkins were good farmers and
able to raise large crops.  Once in a while she would pass a house, and
the people came out to look at her and bow low as she went by; for
everyone knew she had been the means of destroying the Wicked Witch and
setting them free from bondage.  The houses of the Munchkins were
odd-looking dwellings, for each was round, with a big dome for a roof.
All were painted blue, for in this country of the East blue was the
favorite color.

Toward evening, when Dorothy was tired with her long walk and began to
wonder where she should pass the night, she came to a house rather
larger than the rest.  On the green lawn before it many men and women
were dancing.  Five little fiddlers played as loudly as possible, and
the people were laughing and singing, while a big table near by was
loaded with delicious fruits and nuts, pies and cakes, and many other
good things to eat.

The people greeted Dorothy kindly, and invited her to supper and to
pass the night with them; for this was the home of one of the richest
Munchkins in the land, and his friends were gathered with him to
celebrate their freedom from the bondage of the Wicked Witch.

Dorothy ate a hearty supper and was waited upon by the rich Munchkin
himself, whose name was Boq.  Then she sat upon a settee and watched
the people dance.

When Boq saw her silver shoes he said, “You must be a great sorceress.”

“Why?” asked the girl.

“Because you wear silver shoes and have killed the Wicked Witch.
Besides, you have white in your frock, and only witches and sorceresses
wear white.”

“My dress is blue and white checked,” said Dorothy, smoothing out the
wrinkles in it.

“It is kind of you to wear that,” said Boq.  “Blue is the color of the
Munchkins, and white is the witch color.  So we know you are a friendly
witch.”

Dorothy did not know what to say to this, for all the people seemed to
think her a witch, and she knew very well she was only an ordinary
little girl who had come by the chance of a cyclone into a strange land.

When she had tired watching the dancing, Boq led her into the house,
where he gave her a room with a pretty bed in it.  The sheets were made
of blue cloth, and Dorothy slept soundly in them till morning, with
Toto curled up on the blue rug beside her.

She ate a hearty breakfast, and watched a wee Munchkin baby, who played
with Toto and pulled his tail and crowed and laughed in a way that
greatly amused Dorothy.  Toto was a fine curiosity to all the people,
for they had never seen a dog before.

“How far is it to the Emerald City?” the girl asked.

“I do not know,” answered Boq gravely, “for I have never been there.
It is better for people to keep away from Oz, unless they have business
with him.  But it is a long way to the Emerald City, and it will take
you many days.  The country here is rich and pleasant, but you must
pass through rough and dangerous places before you reach the end of
your journey.”

This worried Dorothy a little, but she knew that only the Great Oz
could help her get to Kansas again, so she bravely resolved not to turn
back.

She bade her friends good-bye, and again started along the road of
yellow brick.  When she had gone several miles she thought she would
stop to rest, and so climbed to the top of the fence beside the road
and sat down.  There was a great cornfield beyond the fence, and not
far away she saw a Scarecrow, placed high on a pole to keep the birds
from the ripe corn.

Dorothy leaned her chin upon her hand and gazed thoughtfully at the
Scarecrow.  Its head was a small sack stuffed with straw, with eyes,
nose, and mouth painted on it to represent a face.  An old, pointed
blue hat, that had belonged to some Munchkin, was perched on his head,
and the rest of the figure was a blue suit of clothes, worn and faded,
which had also been stuffed with straw.  On the feet were some old
boots with blue tops, such as every man wore in this country, and the
figure was raised above the stalks of corn by means of the pole stuck
up its back.

While Dorothy was looking earnestly into the queer, painted face of the
Scarecrow, she was surprised to see one of the eyes slowly wink at her.
She thought she must have been mistaken at first, for none of the
scarecrows in Kansas ever wink; but presently the figure nodded its
head to her in a friendly way.  Then she climbed down from the fence
and walked up to it, while Toto ran around the pole and barked.

“Good day,” said the Scarecrow, in a rather husky voice.

“Did you speak?” asked the girl, in wonder.

“Certainly,” answered the Scarecrow.  “How do you do?”

“I’m pretty well, thank you,” replied Dorothy politely.  “How do you
do?”

“I’m not feeling well,” said the Scarecrow, with a smile, “for it is
very tedious being perched up here night and day to scare away crows.”

“Can’t you get down?” asked Dorothy.

“No, for this pole is stuck up my back.  If you will please take away
the pole I shall be greatly obliged to you.”

Dorothy reached up both arms and lifted the figure off the pole, for,
being stuffed with straw, it was quite light.

“Thank you very much,” said the Scarecrow, when he had been set down on
the ground.  “I feel like a new man.”

Dorothy was puzzled at this, for it sounded queer to hear a stuffed man
speak, and to see him bow and walk along beside her.

“Who are you?” asked the Scarecrow when he had stretched himself and
yawned.  “And where are you going?”

“My name is Dorothy,” said the girl, “and I am going to the Emerald
City, to ask the Great Oz to send me back to Kansas.”

“Where is the Emerald City?” he inquired.  “And who is Oz?”

“Why, don’t you know?” she returned, in surprise.

“No, indeed.  I don’t know anything.  You see, I am stuffed, so I have
no brains at all,” he answered sadly.

“Oh,” said Dorothy, “I’m awfully sorry for you.”

“Do you think,” he asked, “if I go to the Emerald City with you, that
Oz would give me some brains?”

“I cannot tell,” she returned, “but you may come with me, if you like.
If Oz will not give you any brains you will be no worse off than you
are now.”

“That is true,” said the Scarecrow.  “You see,” he continued
confidentially, “I don’t mind my legs and arms and body being stuffed,
because I cannot get hurt.  If anyone treads on my toes or sticks a pin
into me, it doesn’t matter, for I can’t feel it.  But I do not want
people to call me a fool, and if my head stays stuffed with straw
instead of with brains, as yours is, how am I ever to know anything?”

“I understand how you feel,” said the little girl, who was truly sorry
for him.  “If you will come with me I’ll ask Oz to do all he can for
you.”

“Thank you,” he answered gratefully.

They walked back to the road.  Dorothy helped him over the fence, and
they started along the path of yellow brick for the Emerald City.

Toto did not like this addition to the party at first.  He smelled
around the stuffed man as if he suspected there might be a nest of rats
in the straw, and he often growled in an unfriendly way at the
Scarecrow.

“Don’t mind Toto,” said Dorothy to her new friend.  “He never bites.”

“Oh, I’m not afraid,” replied the Scarecrow.  “He can’t hurt the straw.
Do let me carry that basket for you.  I shall not mind it, for I can’t
get tired.  I’ll tell you a secret,” he continued, as he walked along.
“There is only one thing in the world I am afraid of.”

“What is that?” asked Dorothy; “the Munchkin farmer who made you?”

“No,” answered the Scarecrow; “it’s a lighted match.”

4.  The Road Through the Forest

After a few hours the road began to be rough, and the walking grew so
difficult that the Scarecrow often stumbled over the yellow bricks,
which were here very uneven.  Sometimes, indeed, they were broken or
missing altogether, leaving holes that Toto jumped across and Dorothy
walked around.  As for the Scarecrow, having no brains, he walked
straight ahead, and so stepped into the holes and fell at full length
on the hard bricks.  It never hurt him, however, and Dorothy would pick
him up and set him upon his feet again, while he joined her in laughing
merrily at his own mishap.

The farms were not nearly so well cared for here as they were farther
back.  There were fewer houses and fewer fruit trees, and the farther
they went the more dismal and lonesome the country became.

At noon they sat down by the roadside, near a little brook, and Dorothy
opened her basket and got out some bread.  She offered a piece to the
Scarecrow, but he refused.

“I am never hungry,” he said, “and it is a lucky thing I am not, for my
mouth is only painted, and if I should cut a hole in it so I could eat,
the straw I am stuffed with would come out, and that would spoil the
shape of my head.”

Dorothy saw at once that this was true, so she only nodded and went on
eating her bread.

“Tell me something about yourself and the country you came from,” said
the Scarecrow, when she had finished her dinner.  So she told him all
about Kansas, and how gray everything was there, and how the cyclone
had carried her to this queer Land of Oz.

The Scarecrow listened carefully, and said, “I cannot understand why
you should wish to leave this beautiful country and go back to the dry,
gray place you call Kansas.”

“That is because you have no brains” answered the girl.  “No matter how
dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would
rather live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful.
There is no place like home.”

The Scarecrow sighed.

“Of course I cannot understand it,” he said.  “If your heads were
stuffed with straw, like mine, you would probably all live in the
beautiful places, and then Kansas would have no people at all.  It is
fortunate for Kansas that you have brains.”

“Won’t you tell me a story, while we are resting?” asked the child.

The Scarecrow looked at her reproachfully, and answered:

“My life has been so short that I really know nothing whatever.  I was
only made day before yesterday.  What happened in the world before that
time is all unknown to me.  Luckily, when the farmer made my head, one
of the first things he did was to paint my ears, so that I heard what
was going on.  There was another Munchkin with him, and the first thing
I heard was the farmer saying, `How do you like those ears?’

“`They aren’t straight,'” answered the other.

“`Never mind,'” said the farmer.  “`They are ears just the same,'”
which was true enough.

“`Now I’ll make the eyes,'” said the farmer.  So he painted my right
eye, and as soon as it was finished I found myself looking at him and
at everything around me with a great deal of curiosity, for this was my
first glimpse of the world.

“`That’s a rather pretty eye,'” remarked the Munchkin who was watching
the farmer.  “`Blue paint is just the color for eyes.’

“`I think I’ll make the other a little bigger,'” said the farmer.  And
when the second eye was done I could see much better than before.  Then
he made my nose and my mouth.  But I did not speak, because at that
time I didn’t know what a mouth was for.  I had the fun of watching
them make my body and my arms and legs; and when they fastened on my
head, at last, I felt very proud, for I thought I was just as good a
man as anyone.

“`This fellow will scare the crows fast enough,’ said the farmer.  `He
looks just like a man.’

“`Why, he is a man,’ said the other, and I quite agreed with him.  The
farmer carried me under his arm to the cornfield, and set me up on a
tall stick, where you found me.  He and his friend soon after walked
away and left me alone.

“I did not like to be deserted this way.  So I tried to walk after
them.  But my feet would not touch the ground, and I was forced to stay
on that pole.  It was a lonely life to lead, for I had nothing to think
of, having been made such a little while before.  Many crows and other
birds flew into the cornfield, but as soon as they saw me they flew
away again, thinking I was a Munchkin; and this pleased me and made me
feel that I was quite an important person.  By and by an old crow flew
near me, and after looking at me carefully he perched upon my shoulder
and said:

“`I wonder if that farmer thought to fool me in this clumsy manner.
Any crow of sense could see that you are only stuffed with straw.’
Then he hopped down at my feet and ate all the corn he wanted.  The
other birds, seeing he was not harmed by me, came to eat the corn too,
so in a short time there was a great flock of them about me.

“I felt sad at this, for it showed I was not such a good Scarecrow
after all; but the old crow comforted me, saying, `If you only had
brains in your head you would be as good a man as any of them, and a
better man than some of them.  Brains are the only things worth having
in this world, no matter whether one is a crow or a man.’

“After the crows had gone I thought this over, and decided I would try
hard to get some brains.  By good luck you came along and pulled me off
the stake, and from what you say I am sure the Great Oz will give me
brains as soon as we get to the Emerald City.”

“I hope so,” said Dorothy earnestly, “since you seem anxious to have
them.”

“Oh, yes; I am anxious,” returned the Scarecrow.  “It is such an
uncomfortable feeling to know one is a fool.”

“Well,” said the girl, “let us go.”  And she handed the basket to the
Scarecrow.

There were no fences at all by the roadside now, and the land was rough
and untilled.  Toward evening they came to a great forest, where the
trees grew so big and close together that their branches met over the
road of yellow brick.  It was almost dark under the trees, for the
branches shut out the daylight; but the travelers did not stop, and
went on into the forest.

“If this road goes in, it must come out,” said the Scarecrow, “and as
the Emerald City is at the other end of the road, we must go wherever
it leads us.”

“Anyone would know that,” said Dorothy.

“Certainly; that is why I know it,” returned the Scarecrow.  “If it
required brains to figure it out, I never should have said it.”

After an hour or so the light faded away, and they found themselves
stumbling along in the darkness.  Dorothy could not see at all, but
Toto could, for some dogs see very well in the dark; and the Scarecrow
declared he could see as well as by day.  So she took hold of his arm
and managed to get along fairly well.

“If you see any house, or any place where we can pass the night,” she
said, “you must tell me; for it is very uncomfortable walking in the
dark.”

Soon after the Scarecrow stopped.

“I see a little cottage at the right of us,” he said, “built of logs
and branches.  Shall we go there?”

“Yes, indeed,” answered the child.  “I am all tired out.”

So the Scarecrow led her through the trees until they reached the
cottage, and Dorothy entered and found a bed of dried leaves in one
corner.  She lay down at once, and with Toto beside her soon fell into
a sound sleep.  The Scarecrow, who was never tired, stood up in another
corner and waited patiently until morning came.

5.  The Rescue of the Tin Woodman

When Dorothy awoke the sun was shining through the trees and Toto had
long been out chasing birds around him and squirrels.  She sat up and
looked around her. Scarecrow, still standing patiently in his corner,
waiting for her.

“We must go and search for water,” she said to him.

“Why do you want water?” he asked.

“To wash my face clean after the dust of the road, and to drink, so the
dry bread will not stick in my throat.”

“It must be inconvenient to be made of flesh,” said the Scarecrow
thoughtfully, “for you must sleep, and eat and drink.  However, you
have brains, and it is worth a lot of bother to be able to think
properly.”

They left the cottage and walked through the trees until they found a
little spring of clear water, where Dorothy drank and bathed and ate
her breakfast.  She saw there was not much bread left in the basket,
and the girl was thankful the Scarecrow did not have to eat anything,
for there was scarcely enough for herself and Toto for the day.

When she had finished her meal, and was about to go back to the road of
yellow brick, she was startled to hear a deep groan near by.

“What was that?” she asked timidly.

“I cannot imagine,” replied the Scarecrow; “but we can go and see.”

Just then another groan reached their ears, and the sound seemed to
come from behind them.  They turned and walked through the forest a few
steps, when Dorothy discovered something shining in a ray of sunshine
that fell between the trees.  She ran to the place and then stopped
short, with a little cry of surprise.

One of the big trees had been partly chopped through, and standing
beside it, with an uplifted axe in his hands, was a man made entirely
of tin.  His head and arms and legs were jointed upon his body, but he
stood perfectly motionless, as if he could not stir at all.

Dorothy looked at him in amazement, and so did the Scarecrow, while
Toto barked sharply and made a snap at the tin legs, which hurt his
teeth.

“Did you groan?” asked Dorothy.

“Yes,” answered the tin man, “I did.  I’ve been groaning for more than
a year, and no one has ever heard me before or come to help me.”

“What can I do for you?” she inquired softly, for she was moved by the
sad voice in which the man spoke.

“Get an oil-can and oil my joints,” he answered.  “They are rusted so
badly that I cannot move them at all; if I am well oiled I shall soon
be all right again.  You will find an oil-can on a shelf in my cottage.”

Dorothy at once ran back to the cottage and found the oil-can, and then
she returned and asked anxiously, “Where are your joints?”

“Oil my neck, first,” replied the Tin Woodman.  So she oiled it, and as
it was quite badly rusted the Scarecrow took hold of the tin head and
moved it gently from side to side until it worked freely, and then the
man could turn it himself.

“Now oil the joints in my arms,” he said.  And Dorothy oiled them and
the Scarecrow bent them carefully until they were quite free from rust
and as good as new.

The Tin Woodman gave a sigh of satisfaction and lowered his axe, which
he leaned against the tree.

“This is a great comfort,” he said.  “I have been holding that axe in
the air ever since I rusted, and I’m glad to be able to put it down at
last.  Now, if you will oil the joints of my legs, I shall be all right
once more.”

So they oiled his legs until he could move them freely; and he thanked
them again and again for his release, for he seemed a very polite
creature, and very grateful.

“I might have stood there always if you had not come along,” he said;
“so you have certainly saved my life.  How did you happen to be here?”

“We are on our way to the Emerald City to see the Great Oz,” she
answered, “and we stopped at your cottage to pass the night.”

“Why do you wish to see Oz?” he asked.

“I want him to send me back to Kansas, and the Scarecrow wants him to
put a few brains into his head,” she replied.

The Tin Woodman appeared to think deeply for a moment.  Then he said:

“Do you suppose Oz could give me a heart?”

“Why, I guess so,” Dorothy answered.  “It would be as easy as to give
the Scarecrow brains.”

“True,” the Tin Woodman returned.  “So, if you will allow me to join
your party, I will also go to the Emerald City and ask Oz to help me.”

“Come along,” said the Scarecrow heartily, and Dorothy added that she
would be pleased to have his company.  So the Tin Woodman shouldered
his axe and they all passed through the forest until they came to the
road that was paved with yellow brick.

The Tin Woodman had asked Dorothy to put the oil-can in her basket.
“For,” he said, “if I should get caught in the rain, and rust again, I
would need the oil-can badly.”

It was a bit of good luck to have their new comrade join the party, for
soon after they had begun their journey again they came to a place
where the trees and branches grew so thick over the road that the
travelers could not pass.  But the Tin Woodman set to work with his axe
and chopped so well that soon he cleared a passage for the entire party.

Dorothy was thinking so earnestly as they walked along that she did not
notice when the Scarecrow stumbled into a hole and rolled over to the
side of the road.  Indeed he was obliged to call to her to help him up
again.

“Why didn’t you walk around the hole?” asked the Tin Woodman.

“I don’t know enough,” replied the Scarecrow cheerfully.  “My head is
stuffed with straw, you know, and that is why I am going to Oz to ask
him for some brains.”

“Oh, I see,” said the Tin Woodman.  “But, after all, brains are not the
best things in the world.”

“Have you any?” inquired the Scarecrow.

“No, my head is quite empty,” answered the Woodman.  “But once I had
brains, and a heart also; so, having tried them both, I should much
rather have a heart.”

“And why is that?” asked the Scarecrow.

“I will tell you my story, and then you will know.”

So, while they were walking through the forest, the Tin Woodman told
the following story:

“I was born the son of a woodman who chopped down trees in the forest
and sold the wood for a living.  When I grew up, I too became a
woodchopper, and after my father died I took care of my old mother as
long as she lived.  Then I made up my mind that instead of living alone
I would marry, so that I might not become lonely.

“There was one of the Munchkin girls who was so beautiful that I soon
grew to love her with all my heart.  She, on her part, promised to
marry me as soon as I could earn enough money to build a better house
for her; so I set to work harder than ever.  But the girl lived with an
old woman who did not want her to marry anyone, for she was so lazy she
wished the girl to remain with her and do the cooking and the
housework.  So the old woman went to the Wicked Witch of the East, and
promised her two sheep and a cow if she would prevent the marriage.
Thereupon the Wicked Witch enchanted my axe, and when I was chopping
away at my best one day, for I was anxious to get the new house and my
wife as soon as possible, the axe slipped all at once and cut off my
left leg.

“This at first seemed a great misfortune, for I knew a one-legged man
could not do very well as a wood-chopper.  So I went to a tinsmith and
had him make me a new leg out of tin.  The leg worked very well, once I
was used to it.  But my action angered the Wicked Witch of the East,
for she had promised the old woman I should not marry the pretty
Munchkin girl.  When I began chopping again, my axe slipped and cut off
my right leg.  Again I went to the tinsmith, and again he made me a leg
out of tin.  After this the enchanted axe cut off my arms, one after
the other; but, nothing daunted, I had them replaced with tin ones.
The Wicked Witch then made the axe slip and cut off my head, and at
first I thought that was the end of me.  But the tinsmith happened to
come along, and he made me a new head out of tin.

“I thought I had beaten the Wicked Witch then, and I worked harder than
ever; but I little knew how cruel my enemy could be.  She thought of a
new way to kill my love for the beautiful Munchkin maiden, and made my
axe slip again, so that it cut right through my body, splitting me into
two halves.  Once more the tinsmith came to my help and made me a body
of tin, fastening my tin arms and legs and head to it, by means of
joints, so that I could move around as well as ever.  But, alas!  I had
now no heart, so that I lost all my love for the Munchkin girl, and did
not care whether I married her or not.  I suppose she is still living
with the old woman, waiting for me to come after her.

“My body shone so brightly in the sun that I felt very proud of it and
it did not matter now if my axe slipped, for it could not cut me.
There was only one danger–that my joints would rust; but I kept an
oil-can in my cottage and took care to oil myself whenever I needed it.
However, there came a day when I forgot to do this, and, being caught
in a rainstorm, before I thought of the danger my joints had rusted,
and I was left to stand in the woods until you came to help me.  It was
a terrible thing to undergo, but during the year I stood there I had
time to think that the greatest loss I had known was the loss of my
heart.  While I was in love I was the happiest man on earth; but no one
can love who has not a heart, and so I am resolved to ask Oz to give me
one.  If he does, I will go back to the Munchkin maiden and marry her.”

Both Dorothy and the Scarecrow had been greatly interested in the story
of the Tin Woodman, and now they knew why he was so anxious to get a
new heart.

“All the same,” said the Scarecrow, “I shall ask for brains instead of
a heart; for a fool would not know what to do with a heart if he had
one.”

“I shall take the heart,” returned the Tin Woodman; “for brains do not
make one happy, and happiness is the best thing in the world.”

Dorothy did not say anything, for she was puzzled to know which of her
two friends was right, and she decided if she could only get back to
Kansas and Aunt Em, it did not matter so much whether the Woodman had
no brains and the Scarecrow no heart, or each got what he wanted.

What worried her most was that the bread was nearly gone, and another
meal for herself and Toto would empty the basket.  To be sure neither
the Woodman nor the Scarecrow ever ate anything, but she was not made
of tin nor straw, and could not live unless she was fed.

6.  The Cowardly Lion

All this time Dorothy and her companions had been walking through the
thick woods.  The road was still paved with yellow brick, but these
were much covered by dried branches and dead leaves from the trees, and
the walking was not at all good.

There were few birds in this part of the forest, for birds love the
open country where there is plenty of sunshine.  But now and then there
came a deep growl from some wild animal hidden among the trees.  These
sounds made the little girl’s heart beat fast, for she did not know
what made them; but Toto knew, and he walked close to Dorothy’s side,
and did not even bark in return.

“How long will it be,” the child asked of the Tin Woodman, “before we
are out of the forest?”

“I cannot tell,” was the answer, “for I have never been to the Emerald
City.  But my father went there once, when I was a boy, and he said it
was a long journey through a dangerous country, although nearer to the
city where Oz dwells the country is beautiful.  But I am not afraid so
long as I have my oil-can, and nothing can hurt the Scarecrow, while
you bear upon your forehead the mark of the Good Witch’s kiss, and that
will protect you from harm.”

“But Toto!” said the girl anxiously.  “What will protect him?”

“We must protect him ourselves if he is in danger,” replied the Tin
Woodman.

Just as he spoke there came from the forest a terrible roar, and the
next moment a great Lion bounded into the road.  With one blow of his
paw he sent the Scarecrow spinning over and over to the edge of the
road, and then he struck at the Tin Woodman with his sharp claws.  But,
to the Lion’s surprise, he could make no impression on the tin,
although the Woodman fell over in the road and lay still.

Little Toto, now that he had an enemy to face, ran barking toward the
Lion, and the great beast had opened his mouth to bite the dog, when
Dorothy, fearing Toto would be killed, and heedless of danger, rushed
forward and slapped the Lion upon his nose as hard as she could, while
she cried out:

“Don’t you dare to bite Toto!  You ought to be ashamed of yourself, a
big beast like you, to bite a poor little dog!”

“I didn’t bite him,” said the Lion, as he rubbed his nose with his paw
where Dorothy had hit it.

“No, but you tried to,” she retorted.  “You are nothing but a big
coward.”

“I know it,” said the Lion, hanging his head in shame.  “I’ve always
known it.  But how can I help it?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure.  To think of your striking a stuffed man, like
the poor Scarecrow!”

“Is he stuffed?” asked the Lion in surprise, as he watched her pick up
the Scarecrow and set him upon his feet, while she patted him into
shape again.

“Of course he’s stuffed,” replied Dorothy, who was still angry.

“That’s why he went over so easily,” remarked the Lion.  “It astonished
me to see him whirl around so.  Is the other one stuffed also?”

“No,” said Dorothy, “he’s made of tin.”  And she helped the Woodman up
again.

“That’s why he nearly blunted my claws,” said the Lion.  “When they
scratched against the tin it made a cold shiver run down my back.  What
is that little animal you are so tender of?”

“He is my dog, Toto,” answered Dorothy.

“Is he made of tin, or stuffed?” asked the Lion.

“Neither.  He’s a–a–a meat dog,” said the girl.

“Oh!  He’s a curious animal and seems remarkably small, now that I look
at him.  No one would think of biting such a little thing, except a
coward like me,” continued the Lion sadly.

“What makes you a coward?” asked Dorothy, looking at the great beast in
wonder, for he was as big as a small horse.

“It’s a mystery,” replied the Lion.  “I suppose I was born that way.
All the other animals in the forest naturally expect me to be brave,
for the Lion is everywhere thought to be the King of Beasts.  I learned
that if I roared very loudly every living thing was frightened and got
out of my way.  Whenever I’ve met a man I’ve been awfully scared; but I
just roared at him, and he has always run away as fast as he could go.
If the elephants and the tigers and the bears had ever tried to fight
me, I should have run myself–I’m such a coward; but just as soon as
they hear me roar they all try to get away from me, and of course I let
them go.”

“But that isn’t right.  The King of Beasts shouldn’t be a coward,” said
the Scarecrow.

“I know it,” returned the Lion, wiping a tear from his eye with the tip
of his tail.  “It is my great sorrow, and makes my life very unhappy.
But whenever there is danger, my heart begins to beat fast.”

“Perhaps you have heart disease,” said the Tin Woodman.

“It may be,” said the Lion.

“If you have,” continued the Tin Woodman, “you ought to be glad, for it
proves you have a heart.  For my part, I have no heart; so I cannot
have heart disease.”

“Perhaps,” said the Lion thoughtfully, “if I had no heart I should not
be a coward.”

“Have you brains?” asked the Scarecrow.

“I suppose so.  I’ve never looked to see,” replied the Lion.

“I am going to the Great Oz to ask him to give me some,” remarked the
Scarecrow, “for my head is stuffed with straw.”

“And I am going to ask him to give me a heart,” said the Woodman.

“And I am going to ask him to send Toto and me back to Kansas,” added
Dorothy.

“Do you think Oz could give me courage?” asked the Cowardly Lion.

“Just as easily as he could give me brains,” said the Scarecrow.

“Or give me a heart,” said the Tin Woodman.

“Or send me back to Kansas,” said Dorothy.

“Then, if you don’t mind, I’ll go with you,” said the Lion, “for my
life is simply unbearable without a bit of courage.”

“You will be very welcome,” answered Dorothy, “for you will help to
keep away the other wild beasts.  It seems to me they must be more
cowardly than you are if they allow you to scare them so easily.”

“They really are,” said the Lion, “but that doesn’t make me any braver,
and as long as I know myself to be a coward I shall be unhappy.”

So once more the little company set off upon the journey, the Lion
walking with stately strides at Dorothy’s side.  Toto did not approve
this new comrade at first, for he could not forget how nearly he had
been crushed between the Lion’s great jaws.  But after a time he became
more at ease, and presently Toto and the Cowardly Lion had grown to be
good friends.

During the rest of that day there was no other adventure to mar the
peace of their journey.  Once, indeed, the Tin Woodman stepped upon a
beetle that was crawling along the road, and killed the poor little
thing.  This made the Tin Woodman very unhappy, for he was always
careful not to hurt any living creature; and as he walked along he wept
several tears of sorrow and regret.  These tears ran slowly down his
face and over the hinges of his jaw, and there they rusted.  When
Dorothy presently asked him a question the Tin Woodman could not open
his mouth, for his jaws were tightly rusted together.  He became
greatly frightened at this and made many motions to Dorothy to relieve
him, but she could not understand.  The Lion was also puzzled to know
what was wrong.  But the Scarecrow seized the oil-can from Dorothy’s
basket and oiled the Woodman’s jaws, so that after a few moments he
could talk as well as before.

“This will serve me a lesson,” said he, “to look where I step.  For if
I should kill another bug or beetle I should surely cry again, and
crying rusts my jaws so that I cannot speak.”

Thereafter he walked very carefully, with his eyes on the road, and
when he saw a tiny ant toiling by he would step over it, so as not to
harm it.  The Tin Woodman knew very well he had no heart, and therefore
he took great care never to be cruel or unkind to anything.

“You people with hearts,” he said, “have something to guide you, and
need never do wrong; but I have no heart, and so I must be very
careful.  When Oz gives me a heart of course I needn’t mind so much.”

7.  The Journey to the Great Oz

They were obliged to camp out that night under a large tree in the
forest, for there were no houses near.  The tree made a good, thick
covering to protect them from the dew, and the Tin Woodman chopped a
great pile of wood with his axe and Dorothy built a splendid fire that
warmed her and made her feel less lonely.  She and Toto ate the last of
their bread, and now she did not know what they would do for breakfast.

“If you wish,” said the Lion, “I will go into the forest and kill a
deer for you.  You can roast it by the fire, since your tastes are so
peculiar that you prefer cooked food, and then you will have a very
good breakfast.”

“Don’t!  Please don’t,” begged the Tin Woodman.  “I should certainly
weep if you killed a poor deer, and then my jaws would rust again.”

But the Lion went away into the forest and found his own supper, and no
one ever knew what it was, for he didn’t mention it.  And the Scarecrow
found a tree full of nuts and filled Dorothy’s basket with them, so
that she would not be hungry for a long time.  She thought this was
very kind and thoughtful of the Scarecrow, but she laughed heartily at
the awkward way in which the poor creature picked up the nuts.  His
padded hands were so clumsy and the nuts were so small that he dropped
almost as many as he put in the basket.  But the Scarecrow did not mind
how long it took him to fill the basket, for it enabled him to keep
away from the fire, as he feared a spark might get into his straw and
burn him up.  So he kept a good distance away from the flames, and only
came near to cover Dorothy with dry leaves when she lay down to sleep.
These kept her very snug and warm, and she slept soundly until morning.

When it was daylight, the girl bathed her face in a little rippling
brook, and soon after they all started toward the Emerald City.

This was to be an eventful day for the travelers.  They had hardly been
walking an hour when they saw before them a great ditch that crossed
the road and divided the forest as far as they could see on either
side.  It was a very wide ditch, and when they crept up to the edge and
looked into it they could see it was also very deep, and there were
many big, jagged rocks at the bottom.  The sides were so steep that
none of them could climb down, and for a moment it seemed that their
journey must end.

“What shall we do?” asked Dorothy despairingly.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” said the Tin Woodman, and the Lion shook
his shaggy mane and looked thoughtful.

But the Scarecrow said, “We cannot fly, that is certain.  Neither can
we climb down into this great ditch.  Therefore, if we cannot jump over
it, we must stop where we are.”

“I think I could jump over it,” said the Cowardly Lion, after measuring
the distance carefully in his mind.

“Then we are all right,” answered the Scarecrow, “for you can carry us
all over on your back, one at a time.”

“Well, I’ll try it,” said the Lion.  “Who will go first?”

“I will,” declared the Scarecrow, “for, if you found that you could not
jump over the gulf, Dorothy would be killed, or the Tin Woodman badly
dented on the rocks below.  But if I am on your back it will not matter
so much, for the fall would not hurt me at all.”

“I am terribly afraid of falling, myself,” said the Cowardly Lion, “but
I suppose there is nothing to do but try it.  So get on my back and we
will make the attempt.”

The Scarecrow sat upon the Lion’s back, and the big beast walked to the
edge of the gulf and crouched down.

“Why don’t you run and jump?” asked the Scarecrow.

“Because that isn’t the way we Lions do these things,” he replied.
Then giving a great spring, he shot through the air and landed safely
on the other side.  They were all greatly pleased to see how easily he
did it, and after the Scarecrow had got down from his back the Lion
sprang across the ditch again.

Dorothy thought she would go next; so she took Toto in her arms and
climbed on the Lion’s back, holding tightly to his mane with one hand.
The next moment it seemed as if she were flying through the air; and
then, before she had time to think about it, she was safe on the other
side.  The Lion went back a third time and got the Tin Woodman, and
then they all sat down for a few moments to give the beast a chance to
rest, for his great leaps had made his breath short, and he panted like
a big dog that has been running too long.

They found the forest very thick on this side, and it looked dark and
gloomy.  After the Lion had rested they started along the road of
yellow brick, silently wondering, each in his own mind, if ever they
would come to the end of the woods and reach the bright sunshine again.
To add to their discomfort, they soon heard strange noises in the
depths of the forest, and the Lion whispered to them that it was in
this part of the country that the Kalidahs lived.

“What are the Kalidahs?” asked the girl.

“They are monstrous beasts with bodies like bears and heads like
tigers,” replied the Lion, “and with claws so long and sharp that they
could tear me in two as easily as I could kill Toto.  I’m terribly
afraid of the Kalidahs.”

“I’m not surprised that you are,” returned Dorothy.  “They must be
dreadful beasts.”

The Lion was about to reply when suddenly they came to another gulf
across the road.  But this one was so broad and deep that the Lion knew
at once he could not leap across it.

So they sat down to consider what they should do, and after serious
thought the Scarecrow said:

“Here is a great tree, standing close to the ditch.  If the Tin Woodman
can chop it down, so that it will fall to the other side, we can walk
across it easily.”

“That is a first-rate idea,” said the Lion.  “One would almost suspect
you had brains in your head, instead of straw.”

The Woodman set to work at once, and so sharp was his axe that the tree
was soon chopped nearly through.  Then the Lion put his strong front
legs against the tree and pushed with all his might, and slowly the big
tree tipped and fell with a crash across the ditch, with its top
branches on the other side.

They had just started to cross this queer bridge when a sharp growl
made them all look up, and to their horror they saw running toward them
two great beasts with bodies like bears and heads like tigers.

“They are the Kalidahs!” said the Cowardly Lion, beginning to tremble.

“Quick!” cried the Scarecrow.  “Let us cross over.”

So Dorothy went first, holding Toto in her arms, the Tin Woodman
followed, and the Scarecrow came next.  The Lion, although he was
certainly afraid, turned to face the Kalidahs, and then he gave so loud
and terrible a roar that Dorothy screamed and the Scarecrow fell over
backward, while even the fierce beasts stopped short and looked at him
in surprise.

But, seeing they were bigger than the Lion, and remembering that there
were two of them and only one of him, the Kalidahs again rushed
forward, and the Lion crossed over the tree and turned to see what they
would do next.  Without stopping an instant the fierce beasts also
began to cross the tree.  And the Lion said to Dorothy:

“We are lost, for they will surely tear us to pieces with their sharp
claws.  But stand close behind me, and I will fight them as long as I
am alive.”

“Wait a minute!” called the Scarecrow.  He had been thinking what was
best to be done, and now he asked the Woodman to chop away the end of
the tree that rested on their side of the ditch.  The Tin Woodman began
to use his axe at once, and, just as the two Kalidahs were nearly
across, the tree fell with a crash into the gulf, carrying the ugly,
snarling brutes with it, and both were dashed to pieces on the sharp
rocks at the bottom.

“Well,” said the Cowardly Lion, drawing a long breath of relief, “I see
we are going to live a little while longer, and I am glad of it, for it
must be a very uncomfortable thing not to be alive.  Those creatures
frightened me so badly that my heart is beating yet.”

“Ah,” said the Tin Woodman sadly, “I wish I had a heart to beat.”

This adventure made the travelers more anxious than ever to get out of
the forest, and they walked so fast that Dorothy became tired, and had
to ride on the Lion’s back.  To their great joy the trees became
thinner the farther they advanced, and in the afternoon they suddenly
came upon a broad river, flowing swiftly just before them.  On the
other side of the water they could see the road of yellow brick running
through a beautiful country, with green meadows dotted with bright
flowers and all the road bordered with trees hanging full of delicious
fruits.  They were greatly pleased to see this delightful country
before them.

“How shall we cross the river?” asked Dorothy.

“That is easily done,” replied the Scarecrow.  “The Tin Woodman must
build us a raft, so we can float to the other side.”

So the Woodman took his axe and began to chop down small trees to make
a raft, and while he was busy at this the Scarecrow found on the
riverbank a tree full of fine fruit.  This pleased Dorothy, who had
eaten nothing but nuts all day, and she made a hearty meal of the ripe
fruit.

But it takes time to make a raft, even when one is as industrious and
untiring as the Tin Woodman, and when night came the work was not done.
So they found a cozy place under the trees where they slept well until
the morning; and Dorothy dreamed of the Emerald City, and of the good
Wizard Oz, who would soon send her back to her own home again.

8.  The Deadly Poppy Field

Our little party of travelers awakened the next morning refreshed and
full of hope, and Dorothy breakfasted like a princess off peaches and
plums from the trees beside the river.  Behind them was the dark forest
they had passed safely through, although they had suffered many
discouragements; but before them was a lovely, sunny country that
seemed to beckon them on to the Emerald City.

To be sure, the broad river now cut them off from this beautiful land.
But the raft was nearly done, and after the Tin Woodman had cut a few
more logs and fastened them together with wooden pins, they were ready
to start.  Dorothy sat down in the middle of the raft and held Toto in
her arms.  When the Cowardly Lion stepped upon the raft it tipped
badly, for he was big and heavy; but the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman
stood upon the other end to steady it, and they had long poles in their
hands to push the raft through the water.

They got along quite well at first, but when they reached the middle of
the river the swift current swept the raft downstream, farther and
farther away from the road of yellow brick.  And the water grew so deep
that the long poles would not touch the bottom.

“This is bad,” said the Tin Woodman, “for if we cannot get to the land
we shall be carried into the country of the Wicked Witch of the West,
and she will enchant us and make us her slaves.”

“And then I should get no brains,” said the Scarecrow.

“And I should get no courage,” said the Cowardly Lion.

“And I should get no heart,” said the Tin Woodman.

“And I should never get back to Kansas,” said Dorothy.

“We must certainly get to the Emerald City if we can,” the Scarecrow
continued, and he pushed so hard on his long pole that it stuck fast in
the mud at the bottom of the river.  Then, before he could pull it out
again–or let go–the raft was swept away, and the poor Scarecrow left
clinging to the pole in the middle of the river.

“Good-bye!” he called after them, and they were very sorry to leave
him.  Indeed, the Tin Woodman began to cry, but fortunately remembered
that he might rust, and so dried his tears on Dorothy’s apron.

Of course this was a bad thing for the Scarecrow.

“I am now worse off than when I first met Dorothy,” he thought.  “Then,
I was stuck on a pole in a cornfield, where I could make-believe scare
the crows, at any rate.  But surely there is no use for a Scarecrow
stuck on a pole in the middle of a river.  I am afraid I shall never
have any brains, after all!”

Down the stream the raft floated, and the poor Scarecrow was left far
behind.  Then the Lion said:

“Something must be done to save us.  I think I can swim to the shore
and pull the raft after me, if you will only hold fast to the tip of my
tail.”

So he sprang into the water, and the Tin Woodman caught fast hold of
his tail.  Then the Lion began to swim with all his might toward the
shore.  It was hard work, although he was so big; but by and by they
were drawn out of the current, and then Dorothy took the Tin Woodman’s
long pole and helped push the raft to the land.

They were all tired out when they reached the shore at last and stepped
off upon the pretty green grass, and they also knew that the stream had
carried them a long way past the road of yellow brick that led to the
Emerald City.

“What shall we do now?” asked the Tin Woodman, as the Lion lay down on
the grass to let the sun dry him.

“We must get back to the road, in some way,” said Dorothy.

“The best plan will be to walk along the riverbank until we come to the
road again,” remarked the Lion.

So, when they were rested, Dorothy picked up her basket and they
started along the grassy bank, to the road from which the river had
carried them.  It was a lovely country, with plenty of flowers and
fruit trees and sunshine to cheer them, and had they not felt so sorry
for the poor Scarecrow, they could have been very happy.

They walked along as fast as they could, Dorothy only stopping once to
pick a beautiful flower; and after a time the Tin Woodman cried out:
“Look!”

Then they all looked at the river and saw the Scarecrow perched upon
his pole in the middle of the water, looking very lonely and sad.

“What can we do to save him?” asked Dorothy.

The Lion and the Woodman both shook their heads, for they did not know.
So they sat down upon the bank and gazed wistfully at the Scarecrow
until a Stork flew by, who, upon seeing them, stopped to rest at the
water’s edge.

“Who are you and where are you going?” asked the Stork.

“I am Dorothy,” answered the girl, “and these are my friends, the Tin
Woodman and the Cowardly Lion;  and we are going to the Emerald City.”

“This isn’t the road,” said the Stork, as she twisted her long neck and
looked sharply at the queer party.

“I know it,” returned Dorothy, “but we have lost the Scarecrow, and are
wondering how we shall get him again.”

“Where is he?” asked the Stork.

“Over there in the river,” answered the little girl.

“If he wasn’t so big and heavy I would get him for you,” remarked the
Stork.

“He isn’t heavy a bit,” said Dorothy eagerly, “for he is stuffed with
straw; and if you will bring him back to us, we shall thank you ever
and ever so much.”

“Well, I’ll try,” said the Stork, “but if I find he is too heavy to
carry I shall have to drop him in the river again.”

So the big bird flew into the air and over the water till she came to
where the Scarecrow was perched upon his pole.  Then the Stork with her
great claws grabbed the Scarecrow by the arm and carried him up into
the air and back to the bank, where Dorothy and the Lion and the Tin
Woodman and Toto were sitting.

When the Scarecrow found himself among his friends again, he was so
happy that he hugged them all, even the Lion and Toto; and as they
walked along he sang “Tol-de-ri-de-oh!” at every step, he felt so gay.

“I was afraid I should have to stay in the river forever,” he said,
“but the kind Stork saved me, and if I ever get any brains I shall find
the Stork again and do her some kindness in return.”

“That’s all right,” said the Stork, who was flying along beside them.
“I always like to help anyone in trouble.  But I must go now, for my
babies are waiting in the nest for me.  I hope you will find the
Emerald City and that Oz will help you.”

“Thank you,” replied Dorothy, and then the kind Stork flew into the air
and was soon out of sight.

They walked along listening to the singing of the brightly colored
birds and looking at the lovely flowers which now became so thick that
the ground was carpeted with them.  There were big yellow and white and
blue and purple blossoms, besides great clusters of scarlet poppies,
which were so brilliant in color they almost dazzled Dorothy’s eyes.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” the girl asked, as she breathed in the spicy
scent of the bright flowers.

“I suppose so,” answered the Scarecrow.  “When I have brains, I shall
probably like them better.”

“If I only had a heart, I should love them,” added the Tin Woodman.

“I always did like flowers,” said the Lion.  “They of seem so helpless
and frail.  But there are none in the forest so bright as these.”

They now came upon more and more of the big scarlet poppies, and fewer
and fewer of the other flowers; and soon they found themselves in the
midst of a great meadow of poppies.  Now it is well known that when
there are many of these flowers together their odor is so powerful that
anyone who breathes it falls asleep, and if the sleeper is not carried
away from the scent of the flowers, he sleeps on and on forever.  But
Dorothy did not know this, nor could she get away from the bright red
flowers that were everywhere about; so presently her eyes grew heavy
and she felt she must sit down to rest and to sleep.

But the Tin Woodman would not let her do this.

“We must hurry and get back to the road of yellow brick before dark,”
he said; and the Scarecrow agreed with him.  So they kept walking until
Dorothy could stand no longer.  Her eyes closed in spite of herself and
she forgot where she was and fell among the poppies, fast asleep.

“What shall we do?” asked the Tin Woodman.

“If we leave her here she will die,” said the Lion.  “The smell of the
flowers is killing us all.  I myself can scarcely keep my eyes open,
and the dog is asleep already.”

It was true; Toto had fallen down beside his little mistress.  But the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, not being made of flesh, were not
troubled by the scent of the flowers.

“Run fast,” said the Scarecrow to the Lion, “and get out of this deadly
flower bed as soon as you can.  We will bring the little girl with us,
but if you should fall asleep you are too big to be carried.”

So the Lion aroused himself and bounded forward as fast as he could go.
In a moment he was out of sight.

“Let us make a chair with our hands and carry her,” said the Scarecrow.
So they picked up Toto and put the dog in Dorothy’s lap, and then they
made a chair with their hands for the seat and their arms for the arms
and carried the sleeping girl between them through the flowers.

On and on they walked, and it seemed that the great carpet of deadly
flowers that surrounded them would never end.  They followed the bend
of the river, and at last came upon their friend the Lion, lying fast
asleep among the poppies.  The flowers had been too strong for the huge
beast and he had given up at last, and fallen only a short distance
from the end of the poppy bed, where the sweet grass spread in
beautiful green fields before them.

“We can do nothing for him,” said the Tin Woodman, sadly; “for he is
much too heavy to lift.  We must leave him here to sleep on forever,
and perhaps he will dream that he has found courage at last.”

“I’m sorry,” said the Scarecrow.  “The Lion was a very good comrade for
one so cowardly.  But let us go on.”

They carried the sleeping girl to a pretty spot beside the river, far
enough from the poppy field to prevent her breathing any more of the
poison of the flowers, and here they laid her gently on the soft grass
and waited for the fresh breeze to waken her.

9.  The Queen of the Field Mice

“We cannot be far from the road of yellow brick, now,” remarked the
Scarecrow, as he stood beside the girl, “for we have come nearly as far
as the river carried us away.”

The Tin Woodman was about to reply when he heard a low growl, and
turning his head (which worked beautifully on hinges) he saw a strange
beast come bounding over the grass toward them.  It was, indeed, a
great yellow Wildcat, and the Woodman thought it must be chasing
something, for its ears were lying close to its head and its mouth was
wide open, showing two rows of ugly teeth, while its red eyes glowed
like balls of fire.  As it came nearer the Tin Woodman saw that running
before the beast was a little gray field mouse, and although he had no
heart he knew it was wrong for the Wildcat to try to kill such a
pretty, harmless creature.

So the Woodman raised his axe, and as the Wildcat ran by he gave it a
quick blow that cut the beast’s head clean off from its body, and it
rolled over at his feet in two pieces.

The field mouse, now that it was freed from its enemy, stopped short;
and coming slowly up to the Woodman it said, in a squeaky little voice:

“Oh, thank you!  Thank you ever so much for saving my life.”

“Don’t speak of it, I beg of you,” replied the Woodman.  “I have no
heart, you know, so I am careful to help all those who may need a
friend, even if it happens to be only a mouse.”

“Only a mouse!” cried the little animal, indignantly.  “Why, I am a
Queen–the Queen of all the Field Mice!”

“Oh, indeed,” said the Woodman, making a bow.

“Therefore you have done a great deed, as well as a brave one, in
saving my life,” added the Queen.

At that moment several mice were seen running up as fast as their
little legs could carry them, and when they saw their Queen they
exclaimed:

“Oh, your Majesty, we thought you would be killed!  How did you manage
to escape the great Wildcat?”  They all bowed so low to the little
Queen that they almost stood upon their heads.

“This funny tin man,” she answered, “killed the Wildcat and saved my
life.  So hereafter you must all serve him, and obey his slightest
wish.”

“We will!” cried all the mice, in a shrill chorus.  And then they
scampered in all directions, for Toto had awakened from his sleep, and
seeing all these mice around him he gave one bark of delight and jumped
right into the middle of the group.  Toto had always loved to chase
mice when he lived in Kansas, and he saw no harm in it.

But the Tin Woodman caught the dog in his arms and held him tight,
while he called to the mice, “Come back!  Come back!  Toto shall not
hurt you.”

At this the Queen of the Mice stuck her head out from underneath a
clump of grass and asked, in a timid voice, “Are you sure he will not
bite us?”

“I will not let him,” said the Woodman; “so do not be afraid.”

One by one the mice came creeping back, and Toto did not bark again,
although he tried to get out of the Woodman’s arms, and would have
bitten him had he not known very well he was made of tin.  Finally one
of the biggest mice spoke.

“Is there anything we can do,” it asked, “to repay you for saving the
life of our Queen?”

“Nothing that I know of,” answered the Woodman; but the Scarecrow, who
had been trying to think, but could not because his head was stuffed
with straw, said, quickly, “Oh, yes; you can save our friend, the
Cowardly Lion, who is asleep in the poppy bed.”

“A Lion!” cried the little Queen.  “Why, he would eat us all up.”

“Oh, no,” declared the Scarecrow; “this Lion is a coward.”

“Really?” asked the Mouse.

“He says so himself,” answered the Scarecrow, “and he would never hurt
anyone who is our friend.  If you will help us to save him I promise
that he shall treat you all with kindness.”

“Very well,” said the Queen, “we trust you.  But what shall we do?”

“Are there many of these mice which call you Queen and are willing to
obey you?”

“Oh, yes; there are thousands,” she replied.

“Then send for them all to come here as soon as possible, and let each
one bring a long piece of string.”

The Queen turned to the mice that attended her and told them to go at
once and get all her people.  As soon as they heard her orders they ran
away in every direction as fast as possible.

“Now,” said the Scarecrow to the Tin Woodman, “you must go to those
trees by the riverside and make a truck that will carry the Lion.”

So the Woodman went at once to the trees and began to work; and he soon
made a truck out of the limbs of trees, from which he chopped away all
the leaves and branches.  He fastened it together with wooden pegs and
made the four wheels out of short pieces of a big tree trunk.  So fast
and so well did he work that by the time the mice began to arrive the
truck was all ready for them.

They came from all directions, and there were thousands of them: big
mice and little mice and middle-sized mice; and each one brought a
piece of string in his mouth.  It was about this time that Dorothy woke
from her long sleep and opened her eyes.  She was greatly astonished to
find herself lying upon the grass, with thousands of mice standing
around and looking at her timidly.  But the Scarecrow told her about
everything, and turning to the dignified little Mouse, he said:

“Permit me to introduce to you her Majesty, the Queen.”

Dorothy nodded gravely and the Queen made a curtsy, after which she
became quite friendly with the little girl.

The Scarecrow and the Woodman now began to fasten the mice to the
truck, using the strings they had brought.  One end of a string was
tied around the neck of each mouse and the other end to the truck.  Of
course the truck was a thousand times bigger than any of the mice who
were to draw it; but when all the mice had been harnessed, they were
able to pull it quite easily.  Even the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman
could sit on it, and were drawn swiftly by their queer little horses to
the place where the Lion lay asleep.

After a great deal of hard work, for the Lion was heavy, they managed
to get him up on the truck.  Then the Queen hurriedly gave her people
the order to start, for she feared if the mice stayed among the poppies
too long they also would fall asleep.

At first the little creatures, many though they were, could hardly stir
the heavily loaded truck; but the Woodman and the Scarecrow both pushed
from behind, and they got along better.  Soon they rolled the Lion out
of the poppy bed to the green fields, where he could breathe the sweet,
fresh air again, instead of the poisonous scent of the flowers.

Dorothy came to meet them and thanked the little mice warmly for saving
her companion from death.  She had grown so fond of the big Lion she
was glad he had been rescued.

Then the mice were unharnessed from the truck and scampered away
through the grass to their homes.  The Queen of the Mice was the last
to leave.

“If ever you need us again,” she said, “come out into the field and
call, and we shall hear you and come to your assistance.  Good-bye!”

“Good-bye!” they all answered, and away the Queen ran, while Dorothy
held Toto tightly lest he should run after her and frighten her.

After this they sat down beside the Lion until he should awaken; and
the Scarecrow brought Dorothy some fruit from a tree near by, which she
ate for her dinner.

10.  The Guardian of the Gate

It was some time before the Cowardly Lion awakened, for he had lain
among the poppies a long while, breathing in their deadly fragrance;
but when he did open his eyes and roll off the truck he was very glad
to find himself still alive.

“I ran as fast as I could,” he said, sitting down and yawning, “but the
flowers were too strong for me.  How did you get me out?”

Then they told him of the field mice, and how they had generously saved
him from death; and the Cowardly Lion laughed, and said:

“I have always thought myself very big and terrible; yet such little
things as flowers came near to killing me, and such small animals as
mice have saved my life.  How strange it all is!  But, comrades, what
shall we do now?”

“We must journey on until we find the road of yellow brick again,” said
Dorothy, “and then we can keep on to the Emerald City.”

So, the Lion being fully refreshed, and feeling quite himself again,
they all started upon the journey, greatly enjoying the walk through
the soft, fresh grass; and it was not long before they reached the road
of yellow brick and turned again toward the Emerald City where the
Great Oz dwelt.

The road was smooth and well paved, now, and the country about was
beautiful, so that the travelers rejoiced in leaving the forest far
behind, and with it the many dangers they had met in its gloomy shades.
Once more they could see fences built beside the road; but these were
painted green, and when they came to a small house, in which a farmer
evidently lived, that also was painted green.  They passed by several
of these houses during the afternoon, and sometimes people came to the
doors and looked at them as if they would like to ask questions; but no
one came near them nor spoke to them because of the great Lion, of
which they were very much afraid.  The people were all dressed in
clothing of a lovely emerald-green color and wore peaked hats like
those of the Munchkins.

“This must be the Land of Oz,” said Dorothy, “and we are surely getting
near the Emerald City.”

“Yes,” answered the Scarecrow.  “Everything is green here, while in the
country of the Munchkins blue was the favorite color.  But the people
do not seem to be as friendly as the Munchkins, and I’m afraid we shall
be unable to find a place to pass the night.”

“I should like something to eat besides fruit,” said the girl, “and I’m
sure Toto is nearly starved.  Let us stop at the next house and talk to
the people.”

So, when they came to a good-sized farmhouse, Dorothy walked boldly up
to the door and knocked.

A woman opened it just far enough to look out, and said, “What do you
want, child, and why is that great Lion with you?”

“We wish to pass the night with you, if you will allow us,” answered
Dorothy; “and the Lion is my friend and comrade, and would not hurt you
for the world.”

“Is he tame?” asked the woman, opening the door a little wider.

“Oh, yes,” said the girl, “and he is a great coward, too.  He will be
more afraid of you than you are of him.”

“Well,” said the woman, after thinking it over and taking another peep
at the Lion, “if that is the case you may come in, and I will give you
some supper and a place to sleep.”

So they all entered the house, where there were, besides the woman, two
children and a man.  The man had hurt his leg, and was lying on the
couch in a corner.  They seemed greatly surprised to see so strange a
company, and while the woman was busy laying the table the man asked:

“Where are you all going?”

“To the Emerald City,” said Dorothy, “to see the Great Oz.”

“Oh, indeed!” exclaimed the man.  “Are you sure that Oz will see you?”

“Why not?” she replied.

“Why, it is said that he never lets anyone come into his presence.  I
have been to the Emerald City many times, and it is a beautiful and
wonderful place; but I have never been permitted to see the Great Oz,
nor do I know of any living person who has seen him.”

“Does he never go out?” asked the Scarecrow.

“Never.  He sits day after day in the great Throne Room of his Palace,
and even those who wait upon him do not see him face to face.”

“What is he like?” asked the girl.

“That is hard to tell,” said the man thoughtfully.  “You see, Oz is a
Great Wizard, and can take on any form he wishes.  So that some say he
looks like a bird; and some say he looks like an elephant; and some say
he looks like a cat.  To others he appears as a beautiful fairy, or a
brownie, or in any other form that pleases him.  But who the real Oz
is, when he is in his own form, no living person can tell.”

“That is very strange,” said Dorothy, “but we must try, in some way, to
see him, or we shall have made our journey for nothing.”

“Why do you wish to see the terrible Oz?” asked the man.

“I want him to give me some brains,” said the Scarecrow eagerly.

“Oh, Oz could do that easily enough,” declared the man.  “He has more
brains than he needs.”

“And I want him to give me a heart,” said the Tin Woodman.

“That will not trouble him,” continued the man, “for Oz has a large
collection of hearts, of all sizes and shapes.”

“And I want him to give me courage,” said the Cowardly Lion.

“Oz keeps a great pot of courage in his Throne Room,” said the man,
“which he has covered with a golden plate, to keep it from running
over.  He will be glad to give you some.”

“And I want him to send me back to Kansas,” said Dorothy.

“Where is Kansas?” asked the man, with surprise.

“I don’t know,” replied Dorothy sorrowfully, “but it is my home, and
I’m sure it’s somewhere.”

“Very likely.  Well, Oz can do anything; so I suppose he will find
Kansas for you.  But first you must get to see him, and that will be a
hard task; for the Great Wizard does not like to see anyone, and he
usually has his own way.  But what do YOU want?” he continued, speaking
to Toto.  Toto only wagged his tail; for, strange to say, he could not
speak.

The woman now called to them that supper was ready, so they gathered
around the table and Dorothy ate some delicious porridge and a dish of
scrambled eggs and a plate of nice white bread, and enjoyed her meal.
The Lion ate some of the porridge, but did not care for it, saying it
was made from oats and oats were food for horses, not for lions.  The
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman ate nothing at all.  Toto ate a little of
everything, and was glad to get a good supper again.

The woman now gave Dorothy a bed to sleep in, and Toto lay down beside
her, while the Lion guarded the door of her room so she might not be
disturbed.  The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman stood up in a corner and
kept quiet all night, although of course they could not sleep.

The next morning, as soon as the sun was up, they started on their way,
and soon saw a beautiful green glow in the sky just before them.

“That must be the Emerald City,” said Dorothy.

As they walked on, the green glow became brighter and brighter, and it
seemed that at last they were nearing the end of their travels.  Yet it
was afternoon before they came to the great wall that surrounded the
City.  It was high and thick and of a bright green color.

In front of them, and at the end of the road of yellow brick, was a big
gate, all studded with emeralds that glittered so in the sun that even
the painted eyes of the Scarecrow were dazzled by their brilliancy.

There was a bell beside the gate, and Dorothy pushed the button and
heard a silvery tinkle sound within.  Then the big gate swung slowly
open, and they all passed through and found themselves in a high arched
room, the walls of which glistened with countless emeralds.

Before them stood a little man about the same size as the Munchkins.
He was clothed all in green, from his head to his feet, and even his
skin was of a greenish tint.  At his side was a large green box.

When he saw Dorothy and her companions the man asked, “What do you wish
in the Emerald City?”

“We came here to see the Great Oz,” said Dorothy.

The man was so surprised at this answer that he sat down to think it
over.

“It has been many years since anyone asked me to see Oz,” he said,
shaking his head in perplexity.  “He is powerful and terrible, and if
you come on an idle or foolish errand to bother the wise reflections of
the Great Wizard, he might be angry and destroy you all in an instant.”

“But it is not a foolish errand, nor an idle one,” replied the
Scarecrow; “it is important.  And we have been told that Oz is a good
Wizard.”

“So he is,” said the green man, “and he rules the Emerald City wisely
and well.  But to those who are not honest, or who approach him from
curiosity, he is most terrible, and few have ever dared ask to see his
face.  I am the Guardian of the Gates, and since you demand to see the
Great Oz I must take you to his Palace.  But first you must put on the
spectacles.”

“Why?” asked Dorothy.

“Because if you did not wear spectacles the brightness and glory of the
Emerald City would blind you.  Even those who live in the City must
wear spectacles night and day.  They are all locked on, for Oz so
ordered it when the City was first built, and I have the only key that
will unlock them.”

He opened the big box, and Dorothy saw that it was filled with
spectacles of every size and shape.  All of them had green glasses in
them.  The Guardian of the Gates found a pair that would just fit
Dorothy and put them over her eyes.  There were two golden bands
fastened to them that passed around the back of her head, where they
were locked together by a little key that was at the end of a chain the
Guardian of the Gates wore around his neck.  When they were on, Dorothy
could not take them off had she wished, but of course she did not wish
to be blinded by the glare of the Emerald City, so she said nothing.

Then the green man fitted spectacles for the Scarecrow and the Tin
Woodman and the Lion, and even on little Toto; and all were locked fast
with the key.

Then the Guardian of the Gates put on his own glasses and told them he
was ready to show them to the Palace.  Taking a big golden key from a
peg on the wall, he opened another gate, and they all followed him
through the portal into the streets of the Emerald City.

11.  The Wonderful City of Oz

Even with eyes protected by the green spectacles, Dorothy and her
friends were at first dazzled by the brilliancy of the wonderful City.
The streets were lined with beautiful houses all built of green marble
and studded everywhere with sparkling emeralds.  They walked over a
pavement of the same green marble, and where the blocks were joined
together were rows of emeralds, set closely, and glittering in the
brightness of the sun.  The window panes were of green glass; even the
sky above the City had a green tint, and the rays of the sun were green.

There were many people–men, women, and children–walking about, and
these were all dressed in green clothes and had greenish skins.  They
looked at Dorothy and her strangely assorted company with wondering
eyes, and the children all ran away and hid behind their mothers when
they saw the Lion; but no one spoke to them.  Many shops stood in the
street, and Dorothy saw that everything in them was green.  Green candy
and green pop corn were offered for sale, as well as green shoes, green
hats, and green clothes of all sorts.  At one place a man was selling
green lemonade, and when the children bought it Dorothy could see that
they paid for it with green pennies.

There seemed to be no horses nor animals of any kind; the men carried
things around in little green carts, which they pushed before them.
Everyone seemed happy and contented and prosperous.

The Guardian of the Gates led them through the streets until they came
to a big building, exactly in the middle of the City, which was the
Palace of Oz, the Great Wizard.  There was a soldier before the door,
dressed in a green uniform and wearing a long green beard.

“Here are strangers,” said the Guardian of the Gates to him, “and they
demand to see the Great Oz.”

“Step inside,” answered the soldier, “and I will carry your message to
him.”

So they passed through the Palace Gates and were led into a big room
with a green carpet and lovely green furniture set with emeralds.  The
soldier made them all wipe their feet upon a green mat before entering
this room, and when they were seated he said politely:

“Please make yourselves comfortable while I go to the door of the
Throne Room and tell Oz you are here.”

They had to wait a long time before the soldier returned.  When, at
last, he came back, Dorothy asked:

“Have you seen Oz?”

“Oh, no,” returned the soldier; “I have never seen him.  But I spoke to
him as he sat behind his screen and gave him your message.  He said he
will grant you an audience, if you so desire; but each one of you must
enter his presence alone, and he will admit but one each day.
Therefore, as you must remain in the Palace for several days, I will
have you shown to rooms where you may rest in comfort after your
journey.”

“Thank you,” replied the girl; “that is very kind of Oz.”

The soldier now blew upon a green whistle, and at once a young girl,
dressed in a pretty green silk gown, entered the room.  She had lovely
green hair and green eyes, and she bowed low before Dorothy as she
said, “Follow me and I will show you your room.”

So Dorothy said good-bye to all her friends except Toto, and taking the
dog in her arms followed the green girl through seven passages and up
three flights of stairs until they came to a room at the front of the
Palace.  It was the sweetest little room in the world, with a soft
comfortable bed that had sheets of green silk and a green velvet
counterpane.  There was a tiny fountain in the middle of the room, that
shot a spray of green perfume into the air, to fall back into a
beautifully carved green marble basin.  Beautiful green flowers stood
in the windows, and there was a shelf with a row of little green books.
When Dorothy had time to open these books she found them full of queer
green pictures that made her laugh, they were so funny.

In a wardrobe were many green dresses, made of silk and satin and
velvet; and all of them fitted Dorothy exactly.

“Make yourself perfectly at home,” said the green girl, “and if you
wish for anything ring the bell.  Oz will send for you tomorrow
morning.”

She left Dorothy alone and went back to the others.  These she also led
to rooms, and each one of them found himself lodged in a very pleasant
part of the Palace.  Of course this politeness was wasted on the
Scarecrow; for when he found himself alone in his room he stood
stupidly in one spot, just within the doorway, to wait till morning.
It would not rest him to lie down, and he could not close his eyes; so
he remained all night staring at a little spider which was weaving its
web in a corner of the room, just as if it were not one of the most
wonderful rooms in the world.  The Tin Woodman lay down on his bed from
force of habit, for he remembered when he was made of flesh; but not
being able to sleep, he passed the night moving his joints up and down
to make sure they kept in good working order.  The Lion would have
preferred a bed of dried leaves in the forest, and did not like being
shut up in a room; but he had too much sense to let this worry him, so
he sprang upon the bed and rolled himself up like a cat and purred
himself asleep in a minute.

The next morning, after breakfast, the green maiden came to fetch
Dorothy, and she dressed her in one of the prettiest gowns, made of
green brocaded satin.  Dorothy put on a green silk apron and tied a
green ribbon around Toto’s neck, and they started for the Throne Room
of the Great Oz.

First they came to a great hall in which were many ladies and gentlemen
of the court, all dressed in rich costumes.  These people had nothing
to do but talk to each other, but they always came to wait outside the
Throne Room every morning, although they were never permitted to see
Oz.  As Dorothy entered they looked at her curiously, and one of them
whispered:

“Are you really going to look upon the face of Oz the Terrible?”

“Of course,” answered the girl, “if he will see me.”

“Oh, he will see you,” said the soldier who had taken her message to
the Wizard, “although he does not like to have people ask to see him.
Indeed, at first he was angry and said I should send you back where you
came from.  Then he asked me what you looked like, and when I mentioned
your silver shoes he was very much interested.  At last I told him
about the mark upon your forehead, and he decided he would admit you to
his presence.”

Just then a bell rang, and the green girl said to Dorothy, “That is the
signal.  You must go into the Throne Room alone.”

She opened a little door and Dorothy walked boldly through and found
herself in a wonderful place.  It was a big, round room with a high
arched roof, and the walls and ceiling and floor were covered with
large emeralds set closely together.  In the center of the roof was a
great light, as bright as the sun, which made the emeralds sparkle in a
wonderful manner.

But what interested Dorothy most was the big throne of green marble
that stood in the middle of the room.  It was shaped like a chair and
sparkled with gems, as did everything else.  In the center of the chair
was an enormous Head, without a body to support it or any arms or legs
whatever.  There was no hair upon this head, but it had eyes and a nose
and mouth, and was much bigger than the head of the biggest giant.

As Dorothy gazed upon this in wonder and fear, the eyes turned slowly
and looked at her sharply and steadily.  Then the mouth moved, and
Dorothy heard a voice say:

“I am Oz, the Great and Terrible.  Who are you, and why do you seek me?”

It was not such an awful voice as she had expected to come from the big
Head; so she took courage and answered:

“I am Dorothy, the Small and Meek.  I have come to you for help.”

The eyes looked at her thoughtfully for a full minute.  Then said the
voice:

“Where did you get the silver shoes?”

“I got them from the Wicked Witch of the East, when my house fell on
her and killed her,” she replied.

“Where did you get the mark upon your forehead?” continued the voice.

“That is where the Good Witch of the North kissed me when she bade me
good-bye and sent me to you,” said the girl.

Again the eyes looked at her sharply, and they saw she was telling the
truth.  Then Oz asked, “What do you wish me to do?”

“Send me back to Kansas, where my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry are,” she
answered earnestly.  “I don’t like your country, although it is so
beautiful.  And I am sure Aunt Em will be dreadfully worried over my
being away so long.”

The eyes winked three times, and then they turned up to the ceiling and
down to the floor and rolled around so queerly that they seemed to see
every part of the room.  And at last they looked at Dorothy again.

“Why should I do this for you?” asked Oz.

“Because you are strong and I am weak; because you are a Great Wizard
and I am only a little girl.”

“But you were strong enough to kill the Wicked Witch of the East,” said
Oz.

“That just happened,” returned Dorothy simply; “I could not help it.”

“Well,” said the Head, “I will give you my answer.  You have no right
to expect me to send you back to Kansas unless you do something for me
in return.  In this country everyone must pay for everything he gets.
If you wish me to use my magic power to send you home again you must do
something for me first.  Help me and I will help you.”

“What must I do?” asked the girl.

“Kill the Wicked Witch of the West,” answered Oz.

“But I cannot!” exclaimed Dorothy, greatly surprised.

“You killed the Witch of the East and you wear the silver shoes, which
bear a powerful charm.  There is now but one Wicked Witch left in all
this land, and when you can tell me she is dead I will send you back to
Kansas–but not before.”

The little girl began to weep, she was so much disappointed; and the
eyes winked again and looked upon her anxiously, as if the Great Oz
felt that she could help him if she would.

“I never killed anything, willingly,” she sobbed.  “Even if I wanted
to, how could I kill the Wicked Witch?  If you, who are Great and
Terrible, cannot kill her yourself, how do you expect me to do it?”

“I do not know,” said the Head; “but that is my answer, and until the
Wicked Witch dies you will not see your uncle and aunt again.  Remember
that the Witch is Wicked–tremendously Wicked–and ought to be killed.
Now go, and do not ask to see me again until you have done your task.”

Sorrowfully Dorothy left the Throne Room and went back where the Lion
and the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were waiting to hear what Oz had
said to her.  “There is no hope for me,” she said sadly, “for Oz will
not send me home until I have killed the Wicked Witch of the West; and
that I can never do.”

Her friends were sorry, but could do nothing to help her; so Dorothy
went to her own room and lay down on the bed and cried herself to sleep.

The next morning the soldier with the green whiskers came to the
Scarecrow and said:

“Come with me, for Oz has sent for you.”

So the Scarecrow followed him and was admitted into the great Throne
Room, where he saw, sitting in the emerald throne, a most lovely Lady.
She was dressed in green silk gauze and wore upon her flowing green
locks a crown of jewels.  Growing from her shoulders were wings,
gorgeous in color and so light that they fluttered if the slightest
breath of air reached them.

When the Scarecrow had bowed, as prettily as his straw stuffing would
let him, before this beautiful creature, she looked upon him sweetly,
and said:

“I am Oz, the Great and Terrible.  Who are you, and why do you seek me?”

Now the Scarecrow, who had expected to see the great Head Dorothy had
told him of, was much astonished; but he answered her bravely.

“I am only a Scarecrow, stuffed with straw.  Therefore I have no
brains, and I come to you praying that you will put brains in my head
instead of straw, so that I may become as much a man as any other in
your dominions.”

“Why should I do this for you?” asked the Lady.

“Because you are wise and powerful, and no one else can help me,”
answered the Scarecrow.

“I never grant favors without some return,” said Oz; “but this much I
will promise.  If you will kill for me the Wicked Witch of the West, I
will bestow upon you a great many brains, and such good brains that you
will be the wisest man in all the Land of Oz.”

“I thought you asked Dorothy to kill the Witch,” said the Scarecrow, in
surprise.

“So I did.  I don’t care who kills her.  But until she is dead I will
not grant your wish.  Now go, and do not seek me again until you have
earned the brains you so greatly desire.”

The Scarecrow went sorrowfully back to his friends and told them what
Oz had said; and Dorothy was surprised to find that the Great Wizard
was not a Head, as she had seen him, but a lovely Lady.

“All the same,” said the Scarecrow, “she needs a heart as much as the
Tin Woodman.”

On the next morning the soldier with the green whiskers came to the Tin
Woodman and said:

“Oz has sent for you.  Follow me.”

So the Tin Woodman followed him and came to the great Throne Room.  He
did not know whether he would find Oz a lovely Lady or a Head, but he
hoped it would be the lovely Lady.  “For,” he said to himself, “if it
is the head, I am sure I shall not be given a heart, since a head has
no heart of its own and therefore cannot feel for me.  But if it is the
lovely Lady I shall beg hard for a heart, for all ladies are themselves
said to be kindly hearted.”

But when the Woodman entered the great Throne Room he saw neither the
Head nor the Lady, for Oz had taken the shape of a most terrible Beast.
It was nearly as big as an elephant, and the green throne seemed hardly
strong enough to hold its weight.  The Beast had a head like that of a
rhinoceros, only there were five eyes in its face.  There were five
long arms growing out of its body, and it also had five long, slim
legs.  Thick, woolly hair covered every part of it, and a more
dreadful-looking monster could not be imagined.  It was fortunate the
Tin Woodman had no heart at that moment, for it would have beat loud
and fast from terror.  But being only tin, the Woodman was not at all
afraid, although he was much disappointed.

“I am Oz, the Great and Terrible,” spoke the Beast, in a voice that was
one great roar.  “Who are you, and why do you seek me?”

“I am a Woodman, and made of tin.  Therefore I have no heart, and
cannot love.  I pray you to give me a heart that I may be as other men
are.”

“Why should I do this?” demanded the Beast.

“Because I ask it, and you alone can grant my request,” answered the
Woodman.

Oz gave a low growl at this, but said, gruffly: “If you indeed desire a
heart, you must earn it.”

“How?” asked the Woodman.

“Help Dorothy to kill the Wicked Witch of the West,” replied the Beast.
“When the Witch is dead, come to me, and I will then give you the
biggest and kindest and most loving heart in all the Land of Oz.”

So the Tin Woodman was forced to return sorrowfully to his friends and
tell them of the terrible Beast he had seen.  They all wondered greatly
at the many forms the Great Wizard could take upon himself, and the
Lion said:

“If he is a Beast when I go to see him, I shall roar my loudest, and so
frighten him that he will grant all I ask.  And if he is the lovely
Lady, I shall pretend to spring upon her, and so compel her to do my
bidding.  And if he is the great Head, he will be at my mercy; for I
will roll this head all about the room until he promises to give us
what we desire.  So be of good cheer, my friends, for all will yet be
well.”

The next morning the soldier with the green whiskers led the Lion to
the great Throne Room and bade him enter the presence of Oz.

The Lion at once passed through the door, and glancing around saw, to
his surprise, that before the throne was a Ball of Fire, so fierce and
glowing he could scarcely bear to gaze upon it.  His first thought was
that Oz had by accident caught on fire and was burning up; but when he
tried to go nearer, the heat was so intense that it singed his
whiskers, and he crept back tremblingly to a spot nearer the door.

Then a low, quiet voice came from the Ball of Fire, and these were the
words it spoke:

“I am Oz, the Great and Terrible.  Who are you, and why do you seek me?”

And the Lion answered, “I am a Cowardly Lion, afraid of everything.  I
came to you to beg that you give me courage, so that in reality I may
become the King of Beasts, as men call me.”

“Why should I give you courage?” demanded Oz.

“Because of all Wizards you are the greatest, and alone have power to
grant my request,” answered the Lion.

The Ball of Fire burned fiercely for a time, and the voice said, “Bring
me proof that the Wicked Witch is dead, and that moment I will give you
courage.  But as long as the Witch lives, you must remain a coward.”

The Lion was angry at this speech, but could say nothing in reply, and
while he stood silently gazing at the Ball of Fire it became so
furiously hot that he turned tail and rushed from the room.  He was
glad to find his friends waiting for him, and told them of his terrible
interview with the Wizard.

“What shall we do now?” asked Dorothy sadly.

“There is only one thing we can do,” returned the Lion, “and that is to
go to the land of the Winkies, seek out the Wicked Witch, and destroy
her.”

“But suppose we cannot?” said the girl.

“Then I shall never have courage,” declared the Lion.

“And I shall never have brains,” added the Scarecrow.

“And I shall never have a heart,” spoke the Tin Woodman.

“And I shall never see Aunt Em and Uncle Henry,” said Dorothy,
beginning to cry.

“Be careful!” cried the green girl.  “The tears will fall on your green
silk gown and spot it.”

So Dorothy dried her eyes and said, “I suppose we must try it; but I am
sure I do not want to kill anybody, even to see Aunt Em again.”

“I will go with you; but I’m too much of a coward to kill the Witch,”
said the Lion.

“I will go too,” declared the Scarecrow; “but I shall not be of much
help to you, I am such a fool.”

“I haven’t the heart to harm even a Witch,” remarked the Tin Woodman;
“but if you go I certainly shall go with you.”

Therefore it was decided to start upon their journey the next morning,
and the Woodman sharpened his axe on a green grindstone and had all his
joints properly oiled.  The Scarecrow stuffed himself with fresh straw
and Dorothy put new paint on his eyes that he might see better.  The
green girl, who was very kind to them, filled Dorothy’s basket with
good things to eat, and fastened a little bell around Toto’s neck with
a green ribbon.

They went to bed quite early and slept soundly until daylight, when
they were awakened by the crowing of a green cock that lived in the
back yard of the Palace, and the cackling of a hen that had laid a
green egg.

12.  The Search for the Wicked Witch

The soldier with the green whiskers led them through the streets of the
Emerald City until they reached the room where the Guardian of the
Gates lived.  This officer unlocked their spectacles to put them back
in his great box, and then he politely opened the gate for our friends.

“Which road leads to the Wicked Witch of the West?” asked Dorothy.

“There is no road,” answered the Guardian of the Gates.  “No one ever
wishes to go that way.”

“How, then, are we to find her?” inquired the girl.

“That will be easy,” replied the man, “for when she knows you are in
the country of the Winkies she will find you, and make you all her
slaves.”

“Perhaps not,” said the Scarecrow, “for we mean to destroy her.”

“Oh, that is different,” said the Guardian of the Gates.  “No one has
ever destroyed her before, so I naturally thought she would make slaves
of you, as she has of the rest.  But take care; for she is wicked and
fierce, and may not allow you to destroy her.  Keep to the West, where
the sun sets, and you cannot fail to find her.”

They thanked him and bade him good-bye, and turned toward the West,
walking over fields of soft grass dotted here and there with daisies
and buttercups.  Dorothy still wore the pretty silk dress she had put
on in the palace, but now, to her surprise, she found it was no longer
green, but pure white.  The ribbon around Toto’s neck had also lost its
green color and was as white as Dorothy’s dress.

The Emerald City was soon left far behind.  As they advanced the ground
became rougher and hillier, for there were no farms nor houses in this
country of the West, and the ground was untilled.

In the afternoon the sun shone hot in their faces, for there were no
trees to offer them shade; so that before night Dorothy and Toto and
the Lion were tired, and lay down upon the grass and fell asleep, with
the Woodman and the Scarecrow keeping watch.

Now the Wicked Witch of the West had but one eye, yet that was as
powerful as a telescope, and could see everywhere.  So, as she sat in
the door of her castle, she happened to look around and saw Dorothy
lying asleep, with her friends all about her.  They were a long
distance off, but the Wicked Witch was angry to find them in her
country; so she blew upon a silver whistle that hung around her neck.

At once there came running to her from all directions a pack of great
wolves.  They had long legs and fierce eyes and sharp teeth.

“Go to those people,” said the Witch, “and tear them to pieces.”

“Are you not going to make them your slaves?” asked the leader of the
wolves.

“No,” she answered, “one is of tin, and one of straw; one is a girl and
another a Lion.  None of them is fit to work, so you may tear them into
small pieces.”

“Very well,” said the wolf, and he dashed away at full speed, followed
by the others.

It was lucky the Scarecrow and the Woodman were wide awake and heard
the wolves coming.

“This is my fight,” said the Woodman, “so get behind me and I will meet
them as they come.”

He seized his axe, which he had made very sharp, and as the leader of
the wolves came on the Tin Woodman swung his arm and chopped the wolf’s
head from its body, so that it immediately died.  As soon as he could
raise his axe another wolf came up, and he also fell under the sharp
edge of the Tin Woodman’s weapon.  There were forty wolves, and forty
times a wolf was killed, so that at last they all lay dead in a heap
before the Woodman.

Then he put down his axe and sat beside the Scarecrow, who said, “It
was a good fight, friend.”

They waited until Dorothy awoke the next morning.  The little girl was
quite frightened when she saw the great pile of shaggy wolves, but the
Tin Woodman told her all.  She thanked him for saving them and sat down
to breakfast, after which they started again upon their journey.

Now this same morning the Wicked Witch came to the door of her castle
and looked out with her one eye that could see far off.  She saw all
her wolves lying dead, and the strangers still traveling through her
country.  This made her angrier than before, and she blew her silver
whistle twice.

Straightway a great flock of wild crows came flying toward her, enough
to darken the sky.

And the Wicked Witch said to the King Crow, “Fly at once to the
strangers; peck out their eyes and tear them to pieces.”

The wild crows flew in one great flock toward Dorothy and her
companions.  When the little girl saw them coming she was afraid.

But the Scarecrow said, “This is my battle, so lie down beside me and
you will not be harmed.”

So they all lay upon the ground except the Scarecrow, and he stood up
and stretched out his arms.  And when the crows saw him they were
frightened, as these birds always are by scarecrows, and did not dare
to come any nearer.  But the King Crow said:

“It is only a stuffed man.  I will peck his eyes out.”

The King Crow flew at the Scarecrow, who caught it by the head and
twisted its neck until it died.  And then another crow flew at him, and
the Scarecrow twisted its neck also.  There were forty crows, and forty
times the Scarecrow twisted a neck, until at last all were lying dead
beside him.  Then he called to his companions to rise, and again they
went upon their journey.

When the Wicked Witch looked out again and saw all her crows lying in a
heap, she got into a terrible rage, and blew three times upon her
silver whistle.

Forthwith there was heard a great buzzing in the air, and a swarm of
black bees came flying toward her.

“Go to the strangers and sting them to death!” commanded the Witch, and
the bees turned and flew rapidly until they came to where Dorothy and
her friends were walking.  But the Woodman had seen them coming, and
the Scarecrow had decided what to do.

“Take out my straw and scatter it over the little girl and the dog and
the Lion,” he said to the Woodman, “and the bees cannot sting them.”
This the Woodman did, and as Dorothy lay close beside the Lion and held
Toto in her arms, the straw covered them entirely.

The bees came and found no one but the Woodman to sting, so they flew
at him and broke off all their stings against the tin, without hurting
the Woodman at all.  And as bees cannot live when their stings are
broken that was the end of the black bees, and they lay scattered thick
about the Woodman, like little heaps of fine coal.

Then Dorothy and the Lion got up, and the girl helped the Tin Woodman
put the straw back into the Scarecrow again, until he was as good as
ever.  So they started upon their journey once more.

The Wicked Witch was so angry when she saw her black bees in little
heaps like fine coal that she stamped her foot and tore her hair and
gnashed her teeth.  And then she called a dozen of her slaves, who were
the Winkies, and gave them sharp spears, telling them to go to the
strangers and destroy them.

The Winkies were not a brave people, but they had to do as they were
told.  So they marched away until they came near to Dorothy.  Then the
Lion gave a great roar and sprang towards them, and the poor Winkies
were so frightened that they ran back as fast as they could.

When they returned to the castle the Wicked Witch beat them well with a
strap, and sent them back to their work, after which she sat down to
think what she should do next.  She could not understand how all her
plans to destroy these strangers had failed; but she was a powerful
Witch, as well as a wicked one, and she soon made up her mind how to
act.

There was, in her cupboard, a Golden Cap, with a circle of diamonds and
rubies running round it.  This Golden Cap had a charm.  Whoever owned
it could call three times upon the Winged Monkeys, who would obey any
order they were given.  But no person could command these strange
creatures more than three times.  Twice already the Wicked Witch had
used the charm of the Cap.  Once was when she had made the Winkies her
slaves, and set herself to rule over their country.  The Winged Monkeys
had helped her do this.  The second time was when she had fought
against the Great Oz himself, and driven him out of the land of the
West.  The Winged Monkeys had also helped her in doing this.  Only once
more could she use this Golden Cap, for which reason she did not like
to do so until all her other powers were exhausted.  But now that her
fierce wolves and her wild crows and her stinging bees were gone, and
her slaves had been scared away by the Cowardly Lion, she saw there was
only one way left to destroy Dorothy and her friends.

So the Wicked Witch took the Golden Cap from her cupboard and placed it
upon her head.  Then she stood upon her left foot and said slowly:

“Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!”

Next she stood upon her right foot and said:

“Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!”

After this she stood upon both feet and cried in a loud voice:

“Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!”

Now the charm began to work.  The sky was darkened, and a low rumbling
sound was heard in the air.  There was a rushing of many wings, a great
chattering and laughing, and the sun came out of the dark sky to show
the Wicked Witch surrounded by a crowd of monkeys, each with a pair of
immense and powerful wings on his shoulders.

One, much bigger than the others, seemed to be their leader.  He flew
close to the Witch and said, “You have called us for the third and last
time.  What do you command?”

“Go to the strangers who are within my land and destroy them all except
the Lion,” said the Wicked Witch.  “Bring that beast to me, for I have
a mind to harness him like a horse, and make him work.”

“Your commands shall be obeyed,” said the leader.  Then, with a great
deal of chattering and noise, the Winged Monkeys flew away to the place
where Dorothy and her friends were walking.

Some of the Monkeys seized the Tin Woodman and carried him through the
air until they were over a country thickly covered with sharp rocks.
Here they dropped the poor Woodman, who fell a great distance to the
rocks, where he lay so battered and dented that he could neither move
nor groan.

Others of the Monkeys caught the Scarecrow, and with their long fingers
pulled all of the straw out of his clothes and head.  They made his hat
and boots and clothes into a small bundle and threw it into the top
branches of a tall tree.

The remaining Monkeys threw pieces of stout rope around the Lion and
wound many coils about his body and head and legs, until he was unable
to bite or scratch or struggle in any way.  Then they lifted him up and
flew away with him to the Witch’s castle, where he was placed in a
small yard with a high iron fence around it, so that he could not
escape.

But Dorothy they did not harm at all.  She stood, with Toto in her
arms, watching the sad fate of her comrades and thinking it would soon
be her turn.  The leader of the Winged Monkeys flew up to her, his
long, hairy arms stretched out and his ugly face grinning terribly; but
he saw the mark of the Good Witch’s kiss upon her forehead and stopped
short, motioning the others not to touch her.

“We dare not harm this little girl,” he said to them, “for she is
protected by the Power of Good, and that is greater than the Power of
Evil.  All we can do is to carry her to the castle of the Wicked Witch
and leave her there.”

So, carefully and gently, they lifted Dorothy in their arms and carried
her swiftly through the air until they came to the castle, where they
set her down upon the front doorstep.  Then the leader said to the
Witch:

“We have obeyed you as far as we were able.  The Tin Woodman and the
Scarecrow are destroyed, and the Lion is tied up in your yard.  The
little girl we dare not harm, nor the dog she carries in her arms.
Your power over our band is now ended, and you will never see us again.”

Then all the Winged Monkeys, with much laughing and chattering and
noise, flew into the air and were soon out of sight.

The Wicked Witch was both surprised and worried when she saw the mark
on Dorothy’s forehead, for she knew well that neither the Winged
Monkeys nor she, herself, dare hurt the girl in any way.  She looked
down at Dorothy’s feet, and seeing the Silver Shoes, began to tremble
with fear, for she knew what a powerful charm belonged to them.  At
first the Witch was tempted to run away from Dorothy; but she happened
to look into the child’s eyes and saw how simple the soul behind them
was, and that the little girl did not know of the wonderful power the
Silver Shoes gave her.  So the Wicked Witch laughed to herself, and
thought, “I can still make her my slave, for she does not know how to
use her power.” Then she said to Dorothy, harshly and severely:

“Come with me; and see that you mind everything I tell you, for if you
do not I will make an end of you, as I did of the Tin Woodman and the
Scarecrow.”

Dorothy followed her through many of the beautiful rooms in her castle
until they came to the kitchen, where the Witch bade her clean the pots
and kettles and sweep the floor and keep the fire fed with wood.

Dorothy went to work meekly, with her mind made up to work as hard as
she could; for she was glad the Wicked Witch had decided not to kill
her.

With Dorothy hard at work, the Witch thought she would go into the
courtyard and harness the Cowardly Lion like a horse; it would amuse
her, she was sure, to make him draw her chariot whenever she wished to
go to drive.  But as she opened the gate the Lion gave a loud roar and
bounded at her so fiercely that the Witch was afraid, and ran out and
shut the gate again.

“If I cannot harness you,” said the Witch to the Lion, speaking through
the bars of the gate, “I can starve you.  You shall have nothing to eat
until you do as I wish.”

So after that she took no food to the imprisoned Lion; but every day
she came to the gate at noon and asked, “Are you ready to be harnessed
like a horse?”

And the Lion would answer, “No.  If you come in this yard, I will bite
you.”

The reason the Lion did not have to do as the Witch wished was that
every night, while the woman was asleep, Dorothy carried him food from
the cupboard.  After he had eaten he would lie down on his bed of
straw, and Dorothy would lie beside him and put her head on his soft,
shaggy mane, while they talked of their troubles and tried to plan some
way to escape.  But they could find no way to get out of the castle,
for it was constantly guarded by the yellow Winkies, who were the
slaves of the Wicked Witch and too afraid of her not to do as she told
them.

The girl had to work hard during the day, and often the Witch
threatened to beat her with the same old umbrella she always carried in
her hand.  But, in truth, she did not dare to strike Dorothy, because
of the mark upon her forehead.  The child did not know this, and was
full of fear for herself and Toto.  Once the Witch struck Toto a blow
with her umbrella and the brave little dog flew at her and bit her leg
in return.  The Witch did not bleed where she was bitten, for she was
so wicked that the blood in her had dried up many years before.

Dorothy’s life became very sad as she grew to understand that it would
be harder than ever to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em again.  Sometimes
she would cry bitterly for hours, with Toto sitting at her feet and
looking into her face, whining dismally to show how sorry he was for
his little mistress.  Toto did not really care whether he was in Kansas
or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with him; but he knew the
little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.

Now the Wicked Witch had a great longing to have for her own the Silver
Shoes which the girl always wore.  Her bees and her crows and her
wolves were lying in heaps and drying up, and she had used up all the
power of the Golden Cap; but if she could only get hold of the Silver
Shoes, they would give her more power than all the other things she had
lost.  She watched Dorothy carefully, to see if she ever took off her
shoes, thinking she might steal them.  But the child was so proud of
her pretty shoes that she never took them off except at night and when
she took her bath.  The Witch was too much afraid of the dark to dare
go in Dorothy’s room at night to take the shoes, and her dread of water
was greater than her fear of the dark, so she never came near when
Dorothy was bathing.  Indeed, the old Witch never touched water, nor
ever let water touch her in any way.

But the wicked creature was very cunning, and she finally thought of a
trick that would give her what she wanted.  She placed a bar of iron in
the middle of the kitchen floor, and then by her magic arts made the
iron invisible to human eyes.  So that when Dorothy walked across the
floor she stumbled over the bar, not being able to see it, and fell at
full length.  She was not much hurt, but in her fall one of the Silver
Shoes came off; and before she could reach it, the Witch had snatched
it away and put it on her own skinny foot.

The wicked woman was greatly pleased with the success of her trick, for
as long as she had one of the shoes she owned half the power of their
charm, and Dorothy could not use it against her, even had she known how
to do so.

The little girl, seeing she had lost one of her pretty shoes, grew
angry, and said to the Witch, “Give me back my shoe!”

“I will not,” retorted the Witch, “for it is now my shoe, and not
yours.”

“You are a wicked creature!” cried Dorothy.  “You have no right to take
my shoe from me.”

“I shall keep it, just the same,” said the Witch, laughing at her, “and
someday I shall get the other one from you, too.”

This made Dorothy so very angry that she picked up the bucket of water
that stood near and dashed it over the Witch, wetting her from head to
foot.

Instantly the wicked woman gave a loud cry of fear, and then, as
Dorothy looked at her in wonder, the Witch began to shrink and fall
away.

“See what you have done!” she screamed.  “In a minute I shall melt
away.”

“I’m very sorry, indeed,” said Dorothy, who was truly frightened to see
the Witch actually melting away like brown sugar before her very eyes.

“Didn’t you know water would be the end of me?” asked the Witch, in a
wailing, despairing voice.

“Of course not,” answered Dorothy.  “How should I?”

“Well, in a few minutes I shall be all melted, and you will have the
castle to yourself.  I have been wicked in my day, but I never thought
a little girl like you would ever be able to melt me and end my wicked
deeds.  Look out–here I go!”

With these words the Witch fell down in a brown, melted, shapeless mass
and began to spread over the clean boards of the kitchen floor.  Seeing
that she had really melted away to nothing, Dorothy drew another bucket
of water and threw it over the mess.  She then swept it all out the
door.  After picking out the silver shoe, which was all that was left
of the old woman, she cleaned and dried it with a cloth, and put it on
her foot again.  Then, being at last free to do as she chose, she ran
out to the courtyard to tell the Lion that the Wicked Witch of the West
had come to an end, and that they were no longer prisoners in a strange
land.

13.  The Rescue

The Cowardly Lion was much pleased to hear that the Wicked Witch had
been melted by a bucket of water, and Dorothy at once unlocked the gate
of his prison and set him free.  They went in together to the castle,
where Dorothy’s first act was to call all the Winkies together and tell
them that they were no longer slaves.

There was great rejoicing among the yellow Winkies, for they had been
made to work hard during many years for the Wicked Witch, who had
always treated them with great cruelty.  They kept this day as a
holiday, then and ever after, and spent the time in feasting and
dancing.

“If our friends, the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, were only with us,”
said the Lion, “I should be quite happy.”

“Don’t you suppose we could rescue them?” asked the girl anxiously.

“We can try,” answered the Lion.

So they called the yellow Winkies and asked them if they would help to
rescue their friends, and the Winkies said that they would be delighted
to do all in their power for Dorothy, who had set them free from
bondage.  So she chose a number of the Winkies who looked as if they
knew the most, and they all started away.  They traveled that day and
part of the next until they came to the rocky plain where the Tin
Woodman lay, all battered and bent.  His axe was near him, but the
blade was rusted and the handle broken off short.

The Winkies lifted him tenderly in their arms, and carried him back to
the Yellow Castle again, Dorothy shedding a few tears by the way at the
sad plight of her old friend, and the Lion looking sober and sorry.
When they reached the castle Dorothy said to the Winkies:

“Are any of your people tinsmiths?”

“Oh, yes.  Some of us are very good tinsmiths,” they told her.

“Then bring them to me,” she said.  And when the tinsmiths came,
bringing with them all their tools in baskets, she inquired, “Can you
straighten out those dents in the Tin Woodman, and bend him back into
shape again, and solder him together where he is broken?”

The tinsmiths looked the Woodman over carefully and then answered that
they thought they could mend him so he would be as good as ever.  So
they set to work in one of the big yellow rooms of the castle and
worked for three days and four nights, hammering and twisting and
bending and soldering and polishing and pounding at the legs and body
and head of the Tin Woodman, until at last he was straightened out into
his old form, and his joints worked as well as ever.  To be sure, there
were several patches on him, but the tinsmiths did a good job, and as
the Woodman was not a vain man he did not mind the patches at all.

When, at last, he walked into Dorothy’s room and thanked her for
rescuing him, he was so pleased that he wept tears of joy, and Dorothy
had to wipe every tear carefully from his face with her apron, so his
joints would not be rusted.  At the same time her own tears fell thick
and fast at the joy of meeting her old friend again, and these tears
did not need to be wiped away.  As for the Lion, he wiped his eyes so
often with the tip of his tail that it became quite wet, and he was
obliged to go out into the courtyard and hold it in the sun till it
dried.

“If we only had the Scarecrow with us again,” said the Tin Woodman,
when Dorothy had finished telling him everything that had happened, “I
should be quite happy.”

“We must try to find him,” said the girl.

So she called the Winkies to help her, and they walked all that day and
part of the next until they came to the tall tree in the branches of
which the Winged Monkeys had tossed the Scarecrow’s clothes.

It was a very tall tree, and the trunk was so smooth that no one could
climb it; but the Woodman said at once, “I’ll chop it down, and then we
can get the Scarecrow’s clothes.”

Now while the tinsmiths had been at work mending the Woodman himself,
another of the Winkies, who was a goldsmith, had made an axe-handle of
solid gold and fitted it to the Woodman’s axe, instead of the old
broken handle.  Others polished the blade until all the rust was
removed and it glistened like burnished silver.

As soon as he had spoken, the Tin Woodman began to chop, and in a short
time the tree fell over with a crash, whereupon the Scarecrow’s clothes
fell out of the branches and rolled off on the ground.

Dorothy picked them up and had the Winkies carry them back to the
castle, where they were stuffed with nice, clean straw; and behold!
here was the Scarecrow, as good as ever, thanking them over and over
again for saving him.

Now that they were reunited, Dorothy and her friends spent a few happy
days at the Yellow Castle, where they found everything they needed to
make them comfortable.

But one day the girl thought of Aunt Em, and said, “We must go back to
Oz, and claim his promise.”

“Yes,” said the Woodman, “at last I shall get my heart.”

“And I shall get my brains,” added the Scarecrow joyfully.

“And I shall get my courage,” said the Lion thoughtfully.

“And I shall get back to Kansas,” cried Dorothy, clapping her hands.
“Oh, let us start for the Emerald City tomorrow!”

This they decided to do.  The next day they called the Winkies together
and bade them good-bye.  The Winkies were sorry to have them go, and
they had grown so fond of the Tin Woodman that they begged him to stay
and rule over them and the Yellow Land of the West.  Finding they were
determined to go, the Winkies gave Toto and the Lion each a golden
collar; and to Dorothy they presented a beautiful bracelet studded with
diamonds; and to the Scarecrow they gave a gold-headed walking stick,
to keep him from stumbling; and to the Tin Woodman they offered a
silver oil-can, inlaid with gold and set with precious jewels.

Every one of the travelers made the Winkies a pretty speech in return,
and all shook hands with them until their arms ached.

Dorothy went to the Witch’s cupboard to fill her basket with food for
the journey, and there she saw the Golden Cap.  She tried it on her own
head and found that it fitted her exactly.  She did not know anything
about the charm of the Golden Cap, but she saw that it was pretty, so
she made up her mind to wear it and carry her sunbonnet in the basket.

Then, being prepared for the journey, they all started for the Emerald
City; and the Winkies gave them three cheers and many good wishes to
carry with them.

14.  The Winged Monkeys

You will remember there was no road–not even a pathway–between the
castle of the Wicked Witch and the Emerald City.  When the four
travelers went in search of the Witch she had seen them coming, and so
sent the Winged Monkeys to bring them to her.  It was much harder to
find their way back through the big fields of buttercups and yellow
daisies than it was being carried.  They knew, of course, they must go
straight east, toward the rising sun; and they started off in the right
way.  But at noon, when the sun was over their heads, they did not know
which was east and which was west, and that was the reason they were
lost in the great fields.  They kept on walking, however, and at night
the moon came out and shone brightly.  So they lay down among the sweet
smelling yellow flowers and slept soundly until morning–all but the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman.

The next morning the sun was behind a cloud, but they started on, as if
they were quite sure which way they were going.

“If we walk far enough,” said Dorothy, “I am sure we shall sometime
come to some place.”

But day by day passed away, and they still saw nothing before them but
the scarlet fields.  The Scarecrow began to grumble a bit.

“We have surely lost our way,” he said, “and unless we find it again in
time to reach the Emerald City, I shall never get my brains.”

“Nor I my heart,” declared the Tin Woodman.  “It seems to me I can
scarcely wait till I get to Oz, and you must admit this is a very long
journey.”

“You see,” said the Cowardly Lion, with a whimper, “I haven’t the
courage to keep tramping forever, without getting anywhere at all.”

Then Dorothy lost heart.  She sat down on the grass and looked at her
companions, and they sat down and looked at her, and Toto found that
for the first time in his life he was too tired to chase a butterfly
that flew past his head.  So he put out his tongue and panted and
looked at Dorothy as if to ask what they should do next.

“Suppose we call the field mice,” she suggested.  “They could probably
tell us the way to the Emerald City.”

“To be sure they could,” cried the Scarecrow.  “Why didn’t we think of
that before?”

Dorothy blew the little whistle she had always carried about her neck
since the Queen of the Mice had given it to her.  In a few minutes they
heard the pattering of tiny feet, and many of the small gray mice came
running up to her.  Among them was the Queen herself, who asked, in her
squeaky little voice:

“What can I do for my friends?”

“We have lost our way,” said Dorothy.  “Can you tell us where the
Emerald City is?”

“Certainly,” answered the Queen; “but it is a great way off, for you
have had it at your backs all this time.”  Then she noticed Dorothy’s
Golden Cap, and said, “Why don’t you use the charm of the Cap, and call
the Winged Monkeys to you?  They will carry you to the City of Oz in
less than an hour.”

“I didn’t know there was a charm,” answered Dorothy, in surprise.
“What is it?”

“It is written inside the Golden Cap,” replied the Queen of the Mice.
“But if you are going to call the Winged Monkeys we must run away, for
they are full of mischief and think it great fun to plague us.”

“Won’t they hurt me?” asked the girl anxiously.

“Oh, no.  They must obey the wearer of the Cap.  Good-bye!” And she
scampered out of sight, with all the mice hurrying after her.

Dorothy looked inside the Golden Cap and saw some words written upon
the lining.  These, she thought, must be the charm, so she read the
directions carefully and put the Cap upon her head.

“Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!” she said, standing on her left foot.

“What did you say?” asked the Scarecrow, who did not know what she was
doing.

“Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!”  Dorothy went on, standing this time on her
right foot.

“Hello!” replied the Tin Woodman calmly.

“Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!” said Dorothy, who was now standing on both feet.
This ended the saying of the charm, and they heard a great chattering
and flapping of wings, as the band of Winged Monkeys flew up to them.

The King bowed low before Dorothy, and asked, “What is your command?”

“We wish to go to the Emerald City,” said the child, “and we have lost
our way.”

“We will carry you,” replied the King, and no sooner had he spoken than
two of the Monkeys caught Dorothy in their arms and flew away with her.
Others took the Scarecrow and the Woodman and the Lion, and one little
Monkey seized Toto and flew after them, although the dog tried hard to
bite him.

The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were rather frightened at first, for
they remembered how badly the Winged Monkeys had treated them before;
but they saw that no harm was intended, so they rode through the air
quite cheerfully, and had a fine time looking at the pretty gardens and
woods far below them.

Dorothy found herself riding easily between two of the biggest Monkeys,
one of them the King himself.  They had made a chair of their hands and
were careful not to hurt her.

“Why do you have to obey the charm of the Golden Cap?” she asked.

“That is a long story,” answered the King, with a Winged laugh; “but as
we have a long journey before us, I will pass the time by telling you
about it, if you wish.”

“I shall be glad to hear it,” she replied.

“Once,” began the leader, “we were a free people, living happily in the
great forest, flying from tree to tree, eating nuts and fruit, and
doing just as we pleased without calling anybody master.  Perhaps some
of us were rather too full of mischief at times, flying down to pull
the tails of the animals that had no wings, chasing birds, and throwing
nuts at the people who walked in the forest.  But we were careless and
happy and full of fun, and enjoyed every minute of the day.  This was
many years ago, long before Oz came out of the clouds to rule over this
land.

“There lived here then, away at the North, a beautiful princess, who
was also a powerful sorceress.  All her magic was used to help the
people, and she was never known to hurt anyone who was good.  Her name
was Gayelette, and she lived in a handsome palace built from great
blocks of ruby.  Everyone loved her, but her greatest sorrow was that
she could find no one to love in return, since all the men were much
too stupid and ugly to mate with one so beautiful and wise.  At last,
however, she found a boy who was handsome and manly and wise beyond his
years.  Gayelette made up her mind that when he grew to be a man she
would make him her husband, so she took him to her ruby palace and used
all her magic powers to make him as strong and good and lovely as any
woman could wish.  When he grew to manhood, Quelala, as he was called,
was said to be the best and wisest man in all the land, while his manly
beauty was so great that Gayelette loved him dearly, and hastened to
make everything ready for the wedding.

“My grandfather was at that time the King of the Winged Monkeys which
lived in the forest near Gayelette’s palace, and the old fellow loved a
joke better than a good dinner.  One day, just before the wedding, my
grandfather was flying out with his band when he saw Quelala walking
beside the river.  He was dressed in a rich costume of pink silk and
purple velvet, and my grandfather thought he would see what he could
do.  At his word the band flew down and seized Quelala, carried him in
their arms until they were over the middle of the river, and then
dropped him into the water.

“`Swim out, my fine fellow,’ cried my grandfather, `and see if the
water has spotted your clothes.’  Quelala was much too wise not to
swim, and he was not in the least spoiled by all his good fortune.  He
laughed, when he came to the top of the water, and swam in to shore.
But when Gayelette came running out to him she found his silks and
velvet all ruined by the river.

“The princess was angry, and she knew, of course, who did it.  She had
all the Winged Monkeys brought before her, and she said at first that
their wings should be tied and they should be treated as they had
treated Quelala, and dropped in the river.  But my grandfather pleaded
hard, for he knew the Monkeys would drown in the river with their wings
tied, and Quelala said a kind word for them also; so that Gayelette
finally spared them, on condition that the Winged Monkeys should ever
after do three times the bidding of the owner of the Golden Cap.  This
Cap had been made for a wedding present to Quelala, and it is said to
have cost the princess half her kingdom.  Of course my grandfather and
all the other Monkeys at once agreed to the condition, and that is how
it happens that we are three times the slaves of the owner of the
Golden Cap, whosoever he may be.”

“And what became of them?” asked Dorothy, who had been greatly
interested in the story.

“Quelala being the first owner of the Golden Cap,” replied the Monkey,
“he was the first to lay his wishes upon us.  As his bride could not
bear the sight of us, he called us all to him in the forest after he
had married her and ordered us always to keep where she could never
again set eyes on a Winged Monkey, which we were glad to do, for we
were all afraid of her.

“This was all we ever had to do until the Golden Cap fell into the
hands of the Wicked Witch of the West, who made us enslave the Winkies,
and afterward drive Oz himself out of the Land of the West.  Now the
Golden Cap is yours, and three times you have the right to lay your
wishes upon us.”

As the Monkey King finished his story Dorothy looked down and saw the
green, shining walls of the Emerald City before them.  She wondered at
the rapid flight of the Monkeys, but was glad the journey was over.
The strange creatures set the travelers down carefully before the gate
of the City, the King bowed low to Dorothy, and then flew swiftly away,
followed by all his band.

“That was a good ride,” said the little girl.

“Yes, and a quick way out of our troubles,” replied the Lion.  “How
lucky it was you brought away that wonderful Cap!”

15.  The Discovery of Oz, the Terrible

The four travelers walked up to the great gate of Emerald City and rang
the bell.  After ringing several times, it was opened by the same
Guardian of the Gates they had met before.

“What! are you back again?” he asked, in surprise.

“Do you not see us?” answered the Scarecrow.

“But I thought you had gone to visit the Wicked Witch of the West.”

“We did visit her,” said the Scarecrow.

“And she let you go again?” asked the man, in wonder.

“She could not help it, for she is melted,” explained the Scarecrow.

“Melted!  Well, that is good news, indeed,” said the man.  “Who melted
her?”

“It was Dorothy,” said the Lion gravely.

“Good gracious!” exclaimed the man, and he bowed very low indeed before
her.

Then he led them into his little room and locked the spectacles from
the great box on all their eyes, just as he had done before.  Afterward
they passed on through the gate into the Emerald City.  When the people
heard from the Guardian of the Gates that Dorothy had melted the Wicked
Witch of the West, they all gathered around the travelers and followed
them in a great crowd to the Palace of Oz.

The soldier with the green whiskers was still on guard before the door,
but he let them in at once, and they were again met by the beautiful
green girl, who showed each of them to their old rooms at once, so they
might rest until the Great Oz was ready to receive them.

The soldier had the news carried straight to Oz that Dorothy and the
other travelers had come back again, after destroying the Wicked Witch;
but Oz made no reply.  They thought the Great Wizard would send for
them at once, but he did not.  They had no word from him the next day,
nor the next, nor the next.  The waiting was tiresome and wearing, and
at last they grew vexed that Oz should treat them in so poor a fashion,
after sending them to undergo hardships and slavery.  So the Scarecrow
at last asked the green girl to take another message to Oz, saying if
he did not let them in to see him at once they would call the Winged
Monkeys to help them, and find out whether he kept his promises or not.
When the Wizard was given this message he was so frightened that he
sent word for them to come to the Throne Room at four minutes after
nine o’clock the next morning.  He had once met the Winged Monkeys in
the Land of the West, and he did not wish to meet them again.

The four travelers passed a sleepless night, each thinking of the gift
Oz had promised to bestow on him.  Dorothy fell asleep only once, and
then she dreamed she was in Kansas, where Aunt Em was telling her how
glad she was to have her little girl at home again.

Promptly at nine o’clock the next morning the green-whiskered soldier
came to them, and four minutes later they all went into the Throne Room
of the Great Oz.

Of course each one of them expected to see the Wizard in the shape he
had taken before, and all were greatly surprised when they looked about
and saw no one at all in the room.  They kept close to the door and
closer to one another, for the stillness of the empty room was more
dreadful than any of the forms they had seen Oz take.

Presently they heard a solemn Voice, that seemed to come from somewhere
near the top of the great dome, and it said:

“I am Oz, the Great and Terrible.  Why do you seek me?”

They looked again in every part of the room, and then, seeing no one,
Dorothy asked, “Where are you?”

“I am everywhere,” answered the Voice, “but to the eyes of common
mortals I am invisible.  I will now seat myself upon my throne, that
you may converse with me.”  Indeed, the Voice seemed just then to come
straight from the throne itself; so they walked toward it and stood in
a row while Dorothy said:

“We have come to claim our promise, O Oz.”

“What promise?” asked Oz.

“You promised to send me back to Kansas when the Wicked Witch was
destroyed,” said the girl.

“And you promised to give me brains,” said the Scarecrow.

“And you promised to give me a heart,” said the Tin Woodman.

“And you promised to give me courage,” said the Cowardly Lion.

“Is the Wicked Witch really destroyed?” asked the Voice, and Dorothy
thought it trembled a little.

“Yes,” she answered, “I melted her with a bucket of water.”

“Dear me,” said the Voice, “how sudden!  Well, come to me tomorrow, for
I must have time to think it over.”

“You’ve had plenty of time already,” said the Tin Woodman angrily.

“We shan’t wait a day longer,” said the Scarecrow.

“You must keep your promises to us!” exclaimed Dorothy.

The Lion thought it might be as well to frighten the Wizard, so he gave
a large, loud roar, which was so fierce and dreadful that Toto jumped
away from him in alarm and tipped over the screen that stood in a
corner.  As it fell with a crash they looked that way, and the next
moment all of them were filled with wonder.  For they saw, standing in
just the spot the screen had hidden, a little old man, with a bald head
and a wrinkled face, who seemed to be as much surprised as they were.
The Tin Woodman, raising his axe, rushed toward the little man and
cried out, “Who are you?”

“I am Oz, the Great and Terrible,” said the little man, in a trembling
voice.  “But don’t strike me–please don’t–and I’ll do anything you
want me to.”

Our friends looked at him in surprise and dismay.

“I thought Oz was a great Head,” said Dorothy.

“And I thought Oz was a lovely Lady,” said the Scarecrow.

“And I thought Oz was a terrible Beast,” said the Tin Woodman.

“And I thought Oz was a Ball of Fire,” exclaimed the Lion.

“No, you are all wrong,” said the little man meekly.  “I have been
making believe.”

“Making believe!” cried Dorothy.  “Are you not a Great Wizard?”

“Hush, my dear,” he said.  “Don’t speak so loud, or you will be
overheard–and I should be ruined.  I’m supposed to be a Great Wizard.”

“And aren’t you?” she asked.

“Not a bit of it, my dear; I’m just a common man.”

“You’re more than that,” said the Scarecrow, in a grieved tone; “you’re
a humbug.”

“Exactly so!” declared the little man, rubbing his hands together as if
it pleased him.  “I am a humbug.”

“But this is terrible,” said the Tin Woodman.  “How shall I ever get my
heart?”

“Or I my courage?” asked the Lion.

“Or I my brains?” wailed the Scarecrow, wiping the tears from his eyes
with his coat sleeve.

“My dear friends,” said Oz, “I pray you not to speak of these little
things.  Think of me, and the terrible trouble I’m in at being found
out.”

“Doesn’t anyone else know you’re a humbug?” asked Dorothy.

“No one knows it but you four–and myself,” replied Oz.  “I have fooled
everyone so long that I thought I should never be found out.  It was a
great mistake my ever letting you into the Throne Room.  Usually I will
not see even my subjects, and so they believe I am something terrible.”

“But, I don’t understand,” said Dorothy, in bewilderment.  “How was it
that you appeared to me as a great Head?”

“That was one of my tricks,” answered Oz.  “Step this way, please, and
I will tell you all about it.”

He led the way to a small chamber in the rear of the Throne Room, and
they all followed him.  He pointed to one corner, in which lay the
great Head, made out of many thicknesses of paper, and with a carefully
painted face.

“This I hung from the ceiling by a wire,” said Oz.  “I stood behind the
screen and pulled a thread, to make the eyes move and the mouth open.”

“But how about the voice?” she inquired.

“Oh, I am a ventriloquist,” said the little man.  “I can throw the
sound of my voice wherever I wish, so that you thought it was coming
out of the Head.  Here are the other things I used to deceive you.”  He
showed the Scarecrow the dress and the mask he had worn when he seemed
to be the lovely Lady.  And the Tin Woodman saw that his terrible Beast
was nothing but a lot of skins, sewn together, with slats to keep their
sides out.  As for the Ball of Fire, the false Wizard had hung that
also from the ceiling.  It was really a ball of cotton, but when oil
was poured upon it the ball burned fiercely.

“Really,” said the Scarecrow, “you ought to be ashamed of yourself for
being such a humbug.”

“I am–I certainly am,” answered the little man sorrowfully; “but it
was the only thing I could do.  Sit down, please, there are plenty of
chairs; and I will tell you my story.”

So they sat down and listened while he told the following tale.

“I was born in Omaha–“

“Why, that isn’t very far from Kansas!” cried Dorothy.

“No, but it’s farther from here,” he said, shaking his head at her
sadly.  “When I grew up I became a ventriloquist, and at that I was
very well trained by a great master.  I can imitate any kind of a bird
or beast.”  Here he mewed so like a kitten that Toto pricked up his
ears and looked everywhere to see where she was.  “After a time,”
continued Oz, “I tired of that, and became a balloonist.”

“What is that?” asked Dorothy.

“A man who goes up in a balloon on circus day, so as to draw a crowd of
people together and get them to pay to see the circus,” he explained.

“Oh,” she said, “I know.”

“Well, one day I went up in a balloon and the ropes got twisted, so
that I couldn’t come down again.  It went way up above the clouds, so
far that a current of air struck it and carried it many, many miles
away.  For a day and a night I traveled through the air, and on the
morning of the second day I awoke and found the balloon floating over a
strange and beautiful country.

“It came down gradually, and I was not hurt a bit.  But I found myself
in the midst of a strange people, who, seeing me come from the clouds,
thought I was a great Wizard.  Of course I let them think so, because
they were afraid of me, and promised to do anything I wished them to.

“Just to amuse myself, and keep the good people busy, I ordered them to
build this City, and my Palace; and they did it all willingly and well.
Then I thought, as the country was so green and beautiful, I would call
it the Emerald City; and to make the name fit better I put green
spectacles on all the people, so that everything they saw was green.”

“But isn’t everything here green?” asked Dorothy.

“No more than in any other city,” replied Oz; “but when you wear green
spectacles, why of course everything you see looks green to you.  The
Emerald City was built a great many years ago, for I was a young man
when the balloon brought me here, and I am a very old man now.  But my
people have worn green glasses on their eyes so long that most of them
think it really is an Emerald City, and it certainly is a beautiful
place, abounding in jewels and precious metals, and every good thing
that is needed to make one happy.  I have been good to the people, and
they like me; but ever since this Palace was built, I have shut myself
up and would not see any of them.

“One of my greatest fears was the Witches, for while I had no magical
powers at all I soon found out that the Witches were really able to do
wonderful things.  There were four of them in this country, and they
ruled the people who live in the North and South and East and West.
Fortunately, the Witches of the North and South were good, and I knew
they would do me no harm; but the Witches of the East and West were
terribly wicked, and had they not thought I was more powerful than they
themselves, they would surely have destroyed me.  As it was, I lived in
deadly fear of them for many years; so you can imagine how pleased I
was when I heard your house had fallen on the Wicked Witch of the East.
When you came to me, I was willing to promise anything if you would
only do away with the other Witch; but, now that you have melted her, I
am ashamed to say that I cannot keep my promises.”

“I think you are a very bad man,” said Dorothy.

“Oh, no, my dear; I’m really a very good man, but I’m a very bad
Wizard, I must admit.”

“Can’t you give me brains?” asked the Scarecrow.

“You don’t need them.  You are learning something every day.  A baby
has brains, but it doesn’t know much.  Experience is the only thing
that brings knowledge, and the longer you are on earth the more
experience you are sure to get.”

“That may all be true,” said the Scarecrow, “but I shall be very
unhappy unless you give me brains.”

The false Wizard looked at him carefully.

“Well,” he said with a sigh, “I’m not much of a magician, as I said;
but if you will come to me tomorrow morning, I will stuff your head
with brains.  I cannot tell you how to use them, however; you must find
that out for yourself.”

“Oh, thank you–thank you!” cried the Scarecrow.  “I’ll find a way to
use them, never fear!”

“But how about my courage?” asked the Lion anxiously.

“You have plenty of courage, I am sure,” answered Oz.  “All you need is
confidence in yourself.  There is no living thing that is not afraid
when it faces danger.  The True courage is in facing danger when you
are afraid, and that kind of courage you have in plenty.”

“Perhaps I have, but I’m scared just the same,” said the Lion.  “I
shall really be very unhappy unless you give me the sort of courage
that makes one forget he is afraid.”

“Very well, I will give you that sort of courage tomorrow,” replied Oz.

“How about my heart?” asked the Tin Woodman.

“Why, as for that,” answered Oz, “I think you are wrong to want a
heart.  It makes most people unhappy.  If you only knew it, you are in
luck not to have a heart.”

“That must be a matter of opinion,” said the Tin Woodman.  “For my
part, I will bear all the unhappiness without a murmur, if you will
give me the heart.”

“Very well,” answered Oz meekly.  “Come to me tomorrow and you shall
have a heart.  I have played Wizard for so many years that I may as
well continue the part a little longer.”

“And now,” said Dorothy, “how am I to get back to Kansas?”

“We shall have to think about that,” replied the little man.  “Give me
two or three days to consider the matter and I’ll try to find a way to
carry you over the desert.  In the meantime you shall all be treated as
my guests, and while you live in the Palace my people will wait upon
you and obey your slightest wish.  There is only one thing I ask in
return for my help–such as it is.  You must keep my secret and tell no
one I am a humbug.”

They agreed to say nothing of what they had learned, and went back to
their rooms in high spirits.  Even Dorothy had hope that “The Great and
Terrible Humbug,” as she called him, would find a way to send her back
to Kansas, and if he did she was willing to forgive him everything.

16.  The Magic Art of the Great Humbug

Next morning the Scarecrow said to his friends:

“Congratulate me.  I am going to Oz to get my brains at last.  When I
return I shall be as other men are.”

“I have always liked you as you were,” said Dorothy simply.

“It is kind of you to like a Scarecrow,” he replied.  “But surely you
will think more of me when you hear the splendid thoughts my new brain
is going to turn out.”  Then he said good-bye to them all in a cheerful
voice and went to the Throne Room, where he rapped upon the door.

“Come in,” said Oz.

The Scarecrow went in and found the little man sitting down by the
window, engaged in deep thought.

“I have come for my brains,” remarked the Scarecrow, a little uneasily.

“Oh, yes; sit down in that chair, please,” replied Oz.  “You must
excuse me for taking your head off, but I shall have to do it in order
to put your brains in their proper place.”

“That’s all right,” said the Scarecrow.  “You are quite welcome to take
my head off, as long as it will be a better one when you put it on
again.”

So the Wizard unfastened his head and emptied out the straw.  Then he
entered the back room and took up a measure of bran, which he mixed
with a great many pins and needles.  Having shaken them together
thoroughly, he filled the top of the Scarecrow’s head with the mixture
and stuffed the rest of the space with straw, to hold it in place.

When he had fastened the Scarecrow’s head on his body again he said to
him, “Hereafter you will be a great man, for I have given you a lot of
bran-new brains.”

The Scarecrow was both pleased and proud at the fulfillment of his
greatest wish, and having thanked Oz warmly he went back to his friends.

Dorothy looked at him curiously.  His head was quite bulged out at the
top with brains.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“I feel wise indeed,” he answered earnestly.  “When I get used to my
brains I shall know everything.”

“Why are those needles and pins sticking out of your head?” asked the
Tin Woodman.

“That is proof that he is sharp,” remarked the Lion.

“Well, I must go to Oz and get my heart,” said the Woodman.  So he
walked to the Throne Room and knocked at the door.

“Come in,” called Oz, and the Woodman entered and said, “I have come
for my heart.”

“Very well,” answered the little man.  “But I shall have to cut a hole
in your breast, so I can put your heart in the right place.  I hope it
won’t hurt you.”

“Oh, no,” answered the Woodman.  “I shall not feel it at all.”

So Oz brought a pair of tinsmith’s shears and cut a small, square hole
in the left side of the Tin Woodman’s breast.  Then, going to a chest
of drawers, he took out a pretty heart, made entirely of silk and
stuffed with sawdust.

“Isn’t it a beauty?” he asked.

“It is, indeed!” replied the Woodman, who was greatly pleased.  “But is
it a kind heart?”

“Oh, very!” answered Oz.  He put the heart in the Woodman’s breast and
then replaced the square of tin, soldering it neatly together where it
had been cut.

“There,” said he; “now you have a heart that any man might be proud of.
I’m sorry I had to put a patch on your breast, but it really couldn’t
be helped.”

“Never mind the patch,” exclaimed the happy Woodman.  “I am very
grateful to you, and shall never forget your kindness.”

“Don’t speak of it,” replied Oz.

Then the Tin Woodman went back to his friends, who wished him every joy
on account of his good fortune.

The Lion now walked to the Throne Room and knocked at the door.

“Come in,” said Oz.

“I have come for my courage,” announced the Lion, entering the room.

“Very well,” answered the little man; “I will get it for you.”

He went to a cupboard and reaching up to a high shelf took down a
square green bottle, the contents of which he poured into a green-gold
dish, beautifully carved.  Placing this before the Cowardly Lion, who
sniffed at it as if he did not like it, the Wizard said:

“Drink.”

“What is it?” asked the Lion.

“Well,” answered Oz, “if it were inside of you, it would be courage.
You know, of course, that courage is always inside one; so that this
really cannot be called courage until you have swallowed it.  Therefore
I advise you to drink it as soon as possible.”

The Lion hesitated no longer, but drank till the dish was empty.

“How do you feel now?” asked Oz.

“Full of courage,” replied the Lion, who went joyfully back to his
friends to tell them of his good fortune.

Oz, left to himself, smiled to think of his success in giving the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Lion exactly what they thought
they wanted.  “How can I help being a humbug,” he said, “when all these
people make me do things that everybody knows can’t be done?  It was
easy to make the Scarecrow and the Lion and the Woodman happy, because
they imagined I could do anything.  But it will take more than
imagination to carry Dorothy back to Kansas, and I’m sure I don’t know
how it can be done.”

17.  How the Balloon Was Launched

For three days Dorothy heard nothing from Oz.  These were sad days for
the little girl, although her friends were all quite happy and
contented.  The Scarecrow told them there were wonderful thoughts in
his head; but he would not say what they were because he knew no one
could understand them but himself.  When the Tin Woodman walked about
he felt his heart rattling around in his breast; and he told Dorothy he
had discovered it to be a kinder and more tender heart than the one he
had owned when he was made of flesh.  The Lion declared he was afraid
of nothing on earth, and would gladly face an army or a dozen of the
fierce Kalidahs.

Thus each of the little party was satisfied except Dorothy, who longed
more than ever to get back to Kansas.

On the fourth day, to her great joy, Oz sent for her, and when she
entered the Throne Room he greeted her pleasantly:

“Sit down, my dear; I think I have found the way to get you out of this
country.”

“And back to Kansas?” she asked eagerly.

“Well, I’m not sure about Kansas,” said Oz, “for I haven’t the faintest
notion which way it lies.  But the first thing to do is to cross the
desert, and then it should be easy to find your way home.”

“How can I cross the desert?” she inquired.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I think,” said the little man.  “You see,
when I came to this country it was in a balloon.  You also came through
the air, being carried by a cyclone.  So I believe the best way to get
across the desert will be through the air.  Now, it is quite beyond my
powers to make a cyclone; but I’ve been thinking the matter over, and I
believe I can make a balloon.”

“How?” asked Dorothy.

“A balloon,” said Oz, “is made of silk, which is coated with glue to
keep the gas in it.  I have plenty of silk in the Palace, so it will be
no trouble to make the balloon.  But in all this country there is no
gas to fill the balloon with, to make it float.”

“If it won’t float,” remarked Dorothy, “it will be of no use to us.”

“True,” answered Oz.  “But there is another way to make it float, which
is to fill it with hot air.  Hot air isn’t as good as gas, for if the
air should get cold the balloon would come down in the desert, and we
should be lost.”

“We!” exclaimed the girl.  “Are you going with me?”

“Yes, of course,” replied Oz.  “I am tired of being such a humbug.  If
I should go out of this Palace my people would soon discover I am not a
Wizard, and then they would be vexed with me for having deceived them.
So I have to stay shut up in these rooms all day, and it gets tiresome.
I’d much rather go back to Kansas with you and be in a circus again.”

“I shall be glad to have your company,” said Dorothy.

“Thank you,” he answered.  “Now, if you will help me sew the silk
together, we will begin to work on our balloon.”

So Dorothy took a needle and thread, and as fast as Oz cut the strips
of silk into proper shape the girl sewed them neatly together.  First
there was a strip of light green silk, then a strip of dark green and
then a strip of emerald green; for Oz had a fancy to make the balloon
in different shades of the color about them.  It took three days to sew
all the strips together, but when it was finished they had a big bag of
green silk more than twenty feet long.

Then Oz painted it on the inside with a coat of thin glue, to make it
airtight, after which he announced that the balloon was ready.

“But we must have a basket to ride in,” he said.  So he sent the
soldier with the green whiskers for a big clothes basket, which he
fastened with many ropes to the bottom of the balloon.

When it was all ready, Oz sent word to his people that he was going to
make a visit to a great brother Wizard who lived in the clouds.  The
news spread rapidly throughout the city and everyone came to see the
wonderful sight.

Oz ordered the balloon carried out in front of the Palace, and the
people gazed upon it with much curiosity.  The Tin Woodman had chopped
a big pile of wood, and now he made a fire of it, and Oz held the
bottom of the balloon over the fire so that the hot air that arose from
it would be caught in the silken bag.  Gradually the balloon swelled
out and rose into the air, until finally the basket just touched the
ground.

Then Oz got into the basket and said to all the people in a loud voice:

“I am now going away to make a visit.  While I am gone the Scarecrow
will rule over you.  I command you to obey him as you would me.”

The balloon was by this time tugging hard at the rope that held it to
the ground, for the air within it was hot, and this made it so much
lighter in weight than the air without that it pulled hard to rise into
the sky.

“Come, Dorothy!” cried the Wizard.  “Hurry up, or the balloon will fly
away.”

“I can’t find Toto anywhere,” replied Dorothy, who did not wish to
leave her little dog behind.  Toto had run into the crowd to bark at a
kitten, and Dorothy at last found him.  She picked him up and ran
towards the balloon.

She was within a few steps of it, and Oz was holding out his hands to
help her into the basket, when, crack! went the ropes, and the balloon
rose into the air without her.

“Come back!” she screamed.  “I want to go, too!”

“I can’t come back, my dear,” called Oz from the basket.  “Good-bye!”

“Good-bye!” shouted everyone, and all eyes were turned upward to where
the Wizard was riding in the basket, rising every moment farther and
farther into the sky.

And that was the last any of them ever saw of Oz, the Wonderful Wizard,
though he may have reached Omaha safely, and be there now, for all we
know.  But the people remembered him lovingly, and said to one another:

“Oz was always our friend.  When he was here he built for us this
beautiful Emerald City, and now he is gone he has left the Wise
Scarecrow to rule over us.”

Still, for many days they grieved over the loss of the Wonderful
Wizard, and would not be comforted.

18.  Away to the South

Dorothy wept bitterly at the passing of her hope to get home to Kansas
again; but when she thought it all over she was glad she had not gone
up in a balloon.  And she also felt sorry at losing Oz, and so did her
companions.

The Tin Woodman came to her and said:

“Truly I should be ungrateful if I failed to mourn for the man who gave
me my lovely heart.  I should like to cry a little because Oz is gone,
if you will kindly wipe away my tears, so that I shall not rust.”

“With pleasure,” she answered, and brought a towel at once.  Then the
Tin Woodman wept for several minutes, and she watched the tears
carefully and wiped them away with the towel.  When he had finished, he
thanked her kindly and oiled himself thoroughly with his jeweled
oil-can, to guard against mishap.

The Scarecrow was now the ruler of the Emerald City, and although he
was not a Wizard the people were proud of him.  “For,” they said,
“there is not another city in all the world that is ruled by a stuffed
man.”  And, so far as they knew, they were quite right.

The morning after the balloon had gone up with Oz, the four travelers
met in the Throne Room and talked matters over.  The Scarecrow sat in
the big throne and the others stood respectfully before him.

“We are not so unlucky,” said the new ruler, “for this Palace and the
Emerald City belong to us, and we can do just as we please.  When I
remember that a short time ago I was up on a pole in a farmer’s
cornfield, and that now I am the ruler of this beautiful City, I am
quite satisfied with my lot.”

“I also,” said the Tin Woodman, “am well-pleased with my new heart;
and, really, that was the only thing I wished in all the world.”

“For my part, I am content in knowing I am as brave as any beast that
ever lived, if not braver,” said the Lion modestly.

“If Dorothy would only be contented to live in the Emerald City,”
continued the Scarecrow, “we might all be happy together.”

“But I don’t want to live here,” cried Dorothy.  “I want to go to
Kansas, and live with Aunt Em and Uncle Henry.”

“Well, then, what can be done?” inquired the Woodman.

The Scarecrow decided to think, and he thought so hard that the pins
and needles began to stick out of his brains.  Finally he said:

“Why not call the Winged Monkeys, and ask them to carry you over the
desert?”

“I never thought of that!” said Dorothy joyfully.  “It’s just the
thing.  I’ll go at once for the Golden Cap.”

When she brought it into the Throne Room she spoke the magic words, and
soon the band of Winged Monkeys flew in through the open window and
stood beside her.

“This is the second time you have called us,” said the Monkey King,
bowing before the little girl.  “What do you wish?”

“I want you to fly with me to Kansas,” said Dorothy.

But the Monkey King shook his head.

“That cannot be done,” he said.  “We belong to this country alone, and
cannot leave it.  There has never been a Winged Monkey in Kansas yet,
and I suppose there never will be, for they don’t belong there.  We
shall be glad to serve you in any way in our power, but we cannot cross
the desert.  Good-bye.”

And with another bow, the Monkey King spread his wings and flew away
through the window, followed by all his band.

Dorothy was ready to cry with disappointment.  “I have wasted the charm
of the Golden Cap to no purpose,” she said, “for the Winged Monkeys
cannot help me.”

“It is certainly too bad!” said the tender-hearted Woodman.

The Scarecrow was thinking again, and his head bulged out so horribly
that Dorothy feared it would burst.

“Let us call in the soldier with the green whiskers,” he said, “and ask
his advice.”

So the soldier was summoned and entered the Throne Room timidly, for
while Oz was alive he never was allowed to come farther than the door.

“This little girl,” said the Scarecrow to the soldier, “wishes to cross
the desert.  How can she do so?”

“I cannot tell,” answered the soldier, “for nobody has ever crossed the
desert, unless it is Oz himself.”

“Is there no one who can help me?” asked Dorothy earnestly.

“Glinda might,” he suggested.

“Who is Glinda?” inquired the Scarecrow.

“The Witch of the South.  She is the most powerful of all the Witches,
and rules over the Quadlings.  Besides, her castle stands on the edge
of the desert, so she may know a way to cross it.”

“Glinda is a Good Witch, isn’t she?” asked the child.

“The Quadlings think she is good,” said the soldier, “and she is kind
to everyone.  I have heard that Glinda is a beautiful woman, who knows
how to keep young in spite of the many years she has lived.”

“How can I get to her castle?” asked Dorothy.

“The road is straight to the South,” he answered, “but it is said to be
full of dangers to travelers.  There are wild beasts in the woods, and
a race of queer men who do not like strangers to cross their country.
For this reason none of the Quadlings ever come to the Emerald City.”

The soldier then left them and the Scarecrow said:

“It seems, in spite of dangers, that the best thing Dorothy can do is
to travel to the Land of the South and ask Glinda to help her.  For, of
course, if Dorothy stays here she will never get back to Kansas.”

“You must have been thinking again,” remarked the Tin Woodman.

“I have,” said the Scarecrow.

“I shall go with Dorothy,” declared the Lion, “for I am tired of your
city and long for the woods and the country again.  I am really a wild
beast, you know.  Besides, Dorothy will need someone to protect her.”

“That is true,” agreed the Woodman.  “My axe may be of service to her;
so I also will go with her to the Land of the South.”

“When shall we start?” asked the Scarecrow.

“Are you going?” they asked, in surprise.

“Certainly.  If it wasn’t for Dorothy I should never have had brains.
She lifted me from the pole in the cornfield and brought me to the
Emerald City.  So my good luck is all due to her, and I shall never
leave her until she starts back to Kansas for good and all.”

“Thank you,” said Dorothy gratefully.  “You are all very kind to me.
But I should like to start as soon as possible.”

“We shall go tomorrow morning,” returned the Scarecrow.  “So now let us
all get ready, for it will be a long journey.”

19.  Attacked by the Fighting Trees

The next morning Dorothy kissed the pretty green girl good-bye, and
they all shook hands with the soldier with the green whiskers, who had
walked with them as far as the gate.  When the Guardian of the Gate saw
them again he wondered greatly that they could leave the beautiful City
to get into new trouble.  But he at once unlocked their spectacles,
which he put back into the green box, and gave them many good wishes to
carry with them.

“You are now our ruler,” he said to the Scarecrow; “so you must come
back to us as soon as possible.”

“I certainly shall if I am able,” the Scarecrow replied; “but I must
help Dorothy to get home, first.”

As Dorothy bade the good-natured Guardian a last farewell she said:

“I have been very kindly treated in your lovely City, and everyone has
been good to me.  I cannot tell you how grateful I am.”

“Don’t try, my dear,” he answered.  “We should like to keep you with
us, but if it is your wish to return to Kansas, I hope you will find a
way.”  He then opened the gate of the outer wall, and they walked forth
and started upon their journey.

The sun shone brightly as our friends turned their faces toward the
Land of the South.  They were all in the best of spirits, and laughed
and chatted together.  Dorothy was once more filled with the hope of
getting home, and the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were glad to be of
use to her.  As for the Lion, he sniffed the fresh air with delight and
whisked his tail from side to side in pure joy at being in the country
again, while Toto ran around them and chased the moths and butterflies,
barking merrily all the time.

“City life does not agree with me at all,” remarked the Lion, as they
walked along at a brisk pace.  “I have lost much flesh since I lived
there, and now I am anxious for a chance to show the other beasts how
courageous I have grown.”

They now turned and took a last look at the Emerald City.  All they
could see was a mass of towers and steeples behind the green walls, and
high up above everything the spires and dome of the Palace of Oz.

“Oz was not such a bad Wizard, after all,” said the Tin Woodman, as he
felt his heart rattling around in his breast.

“He knew how to give me brains, and very good brains, too,” said the
Scarecrow.

“If Oz had taken a dose of the same courage he gave me,” added the
Lion, “he would have been a brave man.”

Dorothy said nothing.  Oz had not kept the promise he made her, but he
had done his best, so she forgave him.  As he said, he was a good man,
even if he was a bad Wizard.

The first day’s journey was through the green fields and bright flowers
that stretched about the Emerald City on every side.  They slept that
night on the grass, with nothing but the stars over them; and they
rested very well indeed.

In the morning they traveled on until they came to a thick wood.  There
was no way of going around it, for it seemed to extend to the right and
left as far as they could see; and, besides, they did not dare change
the direction of their journey for fear of getting lost.  So they
looked for the place where it would be easiest to get into the forest.

The Scarecrow, who was in the lead, finally discovered a big tree with
such wide-spreading branches that there was room for the party to pass
underneath.  So he walked forward to the tree, but just as he came
under the first branches they bent down and twined around him, and the
next minute he was raised from the ground and flung headlong among his
fellow travelers.

This did not hurt the Scarecrow, but it surprised him, and he looked
rather dizzy when Dorothy picked him up.

“Here is another space between the trees,” called the Lion.

“Let me try it first,” said the Scarecrow, “for it doesn’t hurt me to
get thrown about.”  He walked up to another tree, as he spoke, but its
branches immediately seized him and tossed him back again.

“This is strange,” exclaimed Dorothy.  “What shall we do?”

“The trees seem to have made up their minds to fight us, and stop our
journey,” remarked the Lion.

“I believe I will try it myself,” said the Woodman, and shouldering his
axe, he marched up to the first tree that had handled the Scarecrow so
roughly.  When a big branch bent down to seize him the Woodman chopped
at it so fiercely that he cut it in two.  At once the tree began
shaking all its branches as if in pain, and the Tin Woodman passed
safely under it.

“Come on!” he shouted to the others.  “Be quick!”  They all ran forward
and passed under the tree without injury, except Toto, who was caught
by a small branch and shaken until he howled.  But the Woodman promptly
chopped off the branch and set the little dog free.

The other trees of the forest did nothing to keep them back, so they
made up their minds that only the first row of trees could bend down
their branches, and that probably these were the policemen of the
forest, and given this wonderful power in order to keep strangers out
of it.

The four travelers walked with ease through the trees until they came
to the farther edge of the wood.  Then, to their surprise, they found
before them a high wall which seemed to be made of white china.  It was
smooth, like the surface of a dish, and higher than their heads.

“What shall we do now?” asked Dorothy.

“I will make a ladder,” said the Tin Woodman, “for we certainly must
climb over the wall.”

20.  The Dainty China Country

While the Woodman was making a ladder from wood which he found in the
forest Dorothy lay down and slept, for she was tired by the long walk.
The Lion also curled himself up to sleep and Toto lay beside him.

The Scarecrow watched the Woodman while he worked, and said to him:

“I cannot think why this wall is here, nor what it is made of.”

“Rest your brains and do not worry about the wall,” replied the
Woodman.  “When we have climbed over it, we shall know what is on the
other side.”

After a time the ladder was finished.  It looked clumsy, but the Tin
Woodman was sure it was strong and would answer their purpose.  The
Scarecrow waked Dorothy and the Lion and Toto, and told them that the
ladder was ready.  The Scarecrow climbed up the ladder first, but he
was so awkward that Dorothy had to follow close behind and keep him
from falling off.  When he got his head over the top of the wall the
Scarecrow said, “Oh, my!”

“Go on,” exclaimed Dorothy.

So the Scarecrow climbed farther up and sat down on the top of the
wall, and Dorothy put her head over and cried, “Oh, my!” just as the
Scarecrow had done.

Then Toto came up, and immediately began to bark, but Dorothy made him
be still.

The Lion climbed the ladder next, and the Tin Woodman came last; but
both of them cried, “Oh, my!” as soon as they looked over the wall.
When they were all sitting in a row on the top of the wall, they looked
down and saw a strange sight.

Before them was a great stretch of country having a floor as smooth and
shining and white as the bottom of a big platter.  Scattered around
were many houses made entirely of china and painted in the brightest
colors.  These houses were quite small, the biggest of them reaching
only as high as Dorothy’s waist.  There were also pretty little barns,
with china fences around them; and many cows and sheep and horses and
pigs and chickens, all made of china, were standing about in groups.

But the strangest of all were the people who lived in this queer
country.  There were milkmaids and shepherdesses, with brightly colored
bodices and golden spots all over their gowns; and princesses with most
gorgeous frocks of silver and gold and purple; and shepherds dressed in
knee breeches with pink and yellow and blue stripes down them, and
golden buckles on their shoes; and princes with jeweled crowns upon
their heads, wearing ermine robes and satin doublets; and funny clowns
in ruffled gowns, with round red spots upon their cheeks and tall,
pointed caps.  And, strangest of all, these people were all made of
china, even to their clothes, and were so small that the tallest of
them was no higher than Dorothy’s knee.

No one did so much as look at the travelers at first, except one little
purple china dog with an extra-large head, which came to the wall and
barked at them in a tiny voice, afterwards running away again.

“How shall we get down?” asked Dorothy.

They found the ladder so heavy they could not pull it up, so the
Scarecrow fell off the wall and the others jumped down upon him so that
the hard floor would not hurt their feet.  Of course they took pains
not to light on his head and get the pins in their feet.  When all were
safely down they picked up the Scarecrow, whose body was quite
flattened out, and patted his straw into shape again.

“We must cross this strange place in order to get to the other side,”
said Dorothy, “for it would be unwise for us to go any other way except
due South.”

They began walking through the country of the china people, and the
first thing they came to was a china milkmaid milking a china cow.  As
they drew near, the cow suddenly gave a kick and kicked over the stool,
the pail, and even the milkmaid herself, and all fell on the china
ground with a great clatter.

Dorothy was shocked to see that the cow had broken her leg off, and
that the pail was lying in several small pieces, while the poor
milkmaid had a nick in her left elbow.

“There!” cried the milkmaid angrily.  “See what you have done!  My cow
has broken her leg, and I must take her to the mender’s shop and have
it glued on again.  What do you mean by coming here and frightening my
cow?”

“I’m very sorry,” returned Dorothy.  “Please forgive us.”

But the pretty milkmaid was much too vexed to make any answer.  She
picked up the leg sulkily and led her cow away, the poor animal limping
on three legs.  As she left them the milkmaid cast many reproachful
glances over her shoulder at the clumsy strangers, holding her nicked
elbow close to her side.

Dorothy was quite grieved at this mishap.

“We must be very careful here,” said the kind-hearted Woodman, “or we
may hurt these pretty little people so they will never get over it.”

A little farther on Dorothy met a most beautifully dressed young
Princess, who stopped short as she saw the strangers and started to run
away.

Dorothy wanted to see more of the Princess, so she ran after her.  But
the china girl cried out:

“Don’t chase me!  Don’t chase me!”

She had such a frightened little voice that Dorothy stopped and said,
“Why not?”

“Because,” answered the Princess, also stopping, a safe distance away,
“if I run I may fall down and break myself.”

“But could you not be mended?” asked the girl.

“Oh, yes; but one is never so pretty after being mended, you know,”
replied the Princess.

“I suppose not,” said Dorothy.

“Now there is Mr. Joker, one of our clowns,” continued the china lady,
“who is always trying to stand upon his head.  He has broken himself so
often that he is mended in a hundred places, and doesn’t look at all
pretty.  Here he comes now, so you can see for yourself.”

Indeed, a jolly little clown came walking toward them, and Dorothy
could see that in spite of his pretty clothes of red and yellow and
green he was completely covered with cracks, running every which way
and showing plainly that he had been mended in many places.

The Clown put his hands in his pockets, and after puffing out his
cheeks and nodding his head at them saucily, he said:

“My lady fair,
Why do you stare
At poor old Mr. Joker?
You’re quite as stiff
And prim as if
You’d eaten up a poker!”

“Be quiet, sir!” said the Princess.  “Can’t you see these are
strangers, and should be treated with respect?”

“Well, that’s respect, I expect,” declared the Clown, and immediately
stood upon his head.

“Don’t mind Mr. Joker,” said the Princess to Dorothy.  “He is
considerably cracked in his head, and that makes him foolish.”

“Oh, I don’t mind him a bit,” said Dorothy.  “But you are so
beautiful,” she continued, “that I am sure I could love you dearly.
Won’t you let me carry you back to Kansas, and stand you on Aunt Em’s
mantel?  I could carry you in my basket.”

“That would make me very unhappy,” answered the china Princess.  “You
see, here in our country we live contentedly, and can talk and move
around as we please.  But whenever any of us are taken away our joints
at once stiffen, and we can only stand straight and look pretty.  Of
course that is all that is expected of us when we are on mantels and
cabinets and drawing-room tables, but our lives are much pleasanter
here in our own country.”

“I would not make you unhappy for all the world!” exclaimed Dorothy.
“So I’ll just say good-bye.”

“Good-bye,” replied the Princess.

They walked carefully through the china country.  The little animals
and all the people scampered out of their way, fearing the strangers
would break them, and after an hour or so the travelers reached the
other side of the country and came to another china wall.

It was not so high as the first, however, and by standing upon the
Lion’s back they all managed to scramble to the top.  Then the Lion
gathered his legs under him and jumped on the wall; but just as he
jumped, he upset a china church with his tail and smashed it all to
pieces.

“That was too bad,” said Dorothy, “but really I think we were lucky in
not doing these little people more harm than breaking a cow’s leg and a
church.  They are all so brittle!”

“They are, indeed,” said the Scarecrow, “and I am thankful I am made of
straw and cannot be easily damaged.  There are worse things in the
world than being a Scarecrow.”

21.  The Lion Becomes the King of Beasts

After climbing down from the china wall the travelers found themselves
in a disagreeable country, full of bogs and marshes and covered with
tall, rank grass.  It was difficult to walk without falling into muddy
holes, for the grass was so thick that it hid them from sight.
However, by carefully picking their way, they got safely along until
they reached solid ground.  But here the country seemed wilder than
ever, and after a long and tiresome walk through the underbrush they
entered another forest, where the trees were bigger and older than any
they had ever seen.

“This forest is perfectly delightful,” declared the Lion, looking
around him with joy.  “Never have I seen a more beautiful place.”

“It seems gloomy,” said the Scarecrow.

“Not a bit of it,” answered the Lion.  “I should like to live here all
my life.  See how soft the dried leaves are under your feet and how
rich and green the moss is that clings to these old trees.  Surely no
wild beast could wish a pleasanter home.”

“Perhaps there are wild beasts in the forest now,” said Dorothy.

“I suppose there are,” returned the Lion, “but I do not see any of them
about.”

They walked through the forest until it became too dark to go any
farther.  Dorothy and Toto and the Lion lay down to sleep, while the
Woodman and the Scarecrow kept watch over them as usual.

When morning came, they started again.  Before they had gone far they
heard a low rumble, as of the growling of many wild animals.  Toto
whimpered a little, but none of the others was frightened, and they
kept along the well-trodden path until they came to an opening in the
wood, in which were gathered hundreds of beasts of every variety.
There were tigers and elephants and bears and wolves and foxes and all
the others in the natural history, and for a moment Dorothy was afraid.
But the Lion explained that the animals were holding a meeting, and he
judged by their snarling and growling that they were in great trouble.

As he spoke several of the beasts caught sight of him, and at once the
great assemblage hushed as if by magic.  The biggest of the tigers came
up to the Lion and bowed, saying:

“Welcome, O King of Beasts!  You have come in good time to fight our
enemy and bring peace to all the animals of the forest once more.”

“What is your trouble?” asked the Lion quietly.

“We are all threatened,” answered the tiger, “by a fierce enemy which
has lately come into this forest.  It is a most tremendous monster,
like a great spider, with a body as big as an elephant and legs as long
as a tree trunk.  It has eight of these long legs, and as the monster
crawls through the forest he seizes an animal with a leg and drags it
to his mouth, where he eats it as a spider does a fly.  Not one of us
is safe while this fierce creature is alive, and we had called a
meeting to decide how to take care of ourselves when you came among us.”

The Lion thought for a moment.

“Are there any other lions in this forest?” he asked.

“No; there were some, but the monster has eaten them all.  And,
besides, they were none of them nearly so large and brave as you.”

“If I put an end to your enemy, will you bow down to me and obey me as
King of the Forest?” inquired the Lion.

“We will do that gladly,” returned the tiger; and all the other beasts
roared with a mighty roar: “We will!”

“Where is this great spider of yours now?” asked the Lion.

“Yonder, among the oak trees,” said the tiger, pointing with his
forefoot.

“Take good care of these friends of mine,” said the Lion, “and I will
go at once to fight the monster.”

He bade his comrades good-bye and marched proudly away to do battle
with the enemy.

The great spider was lying asleep when the Lion found him, and it
looked so ugly that its foe turned up his nose in disgust.  Its legs
were quite as long as the tiger had said, and its body covered with
coarse black hair.  It had a great mouth, with a row of sharp teeth a
foot long; but its head was joined to the pudgy body by a neck as
slender as a wasp’s waist.  This gave the Lion a hint of the best way
to attack the creature, and as he knew it was easier to fight it asleep
than awake, he gave a great spring and landed directly upon the
monster’s back.  Then, with one blow of his heavy paw, all armed with
sharp claws, he knocked the spider’s head from its body.  Jumping down,
he watched it until the long legs stopped wiggling, when he knew it was
quite dead.

The Lion went back to the opening where the beasts of the forest were
waiting for him and said proudly:

“You need fear your enemy no longer.”

Then the beasts bowed down to the Lion as their King, and he promised
to come back and rule over them as soon as Dorothy was safely on her
way to Kansas.

22.  The Country of the Quadlings

The four travelers passed through the rest of the forest in safety, and
when they came out from its gloom saw before them a steep hill, covered
from top to bottom with great pieces of rock.

“That will be a hard climb,” said the Scarecrow, “but we must get over
the hill, nevertheless.”

So he led the way and the others followed.  They had nearly reached the
first rock when they heard a rough voice cry out, “Keep back!”

“Who are you?” asked the Scarecrow.

Then a head showed itself over the rock and the same voice said, “This
hill belongs to us, and we don’t allow anyone to cross it.”

“But we must cross it,” said the Scarecrow.  “We’re going to the
country of the Quadlings.”

“But you shall not!” replied the voice, and there stepped from behind
the rock the strangest man the travelers had ever seen.

He was quite short and stout and had a big head, which was flat at the
top and supported by a thick neck full of wrinkles.  But he had no arms
at all, and, seeing this, the Scarecrow did not fear that so helpless a
creature could prevent them from climbing the hill.  So he said, “I’m
sorry not to do as you wish, but we must pass over your hill whether
you like it or not,” and he walked boldly forward.

As quick as lightning the man’s head shot forward and his neck
stretched out until the top of the head, where it was flat, struck the
Scarecrow in the middle and sent him tumbling, over and over, down the
hill.  Almost as quickly as it came the head went back to the body, and
the man laughed harshly as he said, “It isn’t as easy as you think!”

A chorus of boisterous laughter came from the other rocks, and Dorothy
saw hundreds of the armless Hammer-Heads upon the hillside, one behind
every rock.

The Lion became quite angry at the laughter caused by the Scarecrow’s
mishap, and giving a loud roar that echoed like thunder, he dashed up
the hill.

Again a head shot swiftly out, and the great Lion went rolling down the
hill as if he had been struck by a cannon ball.

Dorothy ran down and helped the Scarecrow to his feet, and the Lion
came up to her, feeling rather bruised and sore, and said, “It is
useless to fight people with shooting heads; no one can withstand them.”

“What can we do, then?” she asked.

“Call the Winged Monkeys,” suggested the Tin Woodman.  “You have still
the right to command them once more.”

“Very well,” she answered, and putting on the Golden Cap she uttered
the magic words.  The Monkeys were as prompt as ever, and in a few
moments the entire band stood before her.

“What are your commands?” inquired the King of the Monkeys, bowing low.

“Carry us over the hill to the country of the Quadlings,” answered the
girl.

“It shall be done,” said the King, and at once the Winged Monkeys
caught the four travelers and Toto up in their arms and flew away with
them.  As they passed over the hill the Hammer-Heads yelled with
vexation, and shot their heads high in the air, but they could not
reach the Winged Monkeys, which carried Dorothy and her comrades safely
over the hill and set them down in the beautiful country of the
Quadlings.

“This is the last time you can summon us,” said the leader to Dorothy;
“so good-bye and good luck to you.”

“Good-bye, and thank you very much,” returned the girl; and the Monkeys
rose into the air and were out of sight in a twinkling.

The country of the Quadlings seemed rich and happy.  There was field
upon field of ripening grain, with well-paved roads running between,
and pretty rippling brooks with strong bridges across them.  The fences
and houses and bridges were all painted bright red, just as they had
been painted yellow in the country of the Winkies and blue in the
country of the Munchkins.  The Quadlings themselves, who were short and
fat and looked chubby and good-natured, were dressed all in red, which
showed bright against the green grass and the yellowing grain.

The Monkeys had set them down near a farmhouse, and the four travelers
walked up to it and knocked at the door.  It was opened by the farmer’s
wife, and when Dorothy asked for something to eat the woman gave them
all a good dinner, with three kinds of cake and four kinds of cookies,
and a bowl of milk for Toto.

“How far is it to the Castle of Glinda?” asked the child.

“It is not a great way,” answered the farmer’s wife.  “Take the road to
the South and you will soon reach it.”

Thanking the good woman, they started afresh and walked by the fields
and across the pretty bridges until they saw before them a very
beautiful Castle.  Before the gates were three young girls, dressed in
handsome red uniforms trimmed with gold braid; and as Dorothy
approached, one of them said to her:

“Why have you come to the South Country?”

“To see the Good Witch who rules here,” she answered.  “Will you take
me to her?”

“Let me have your name, and I will ask Glinda if she will receive you.”
They told who they were, and the girl soldier went into the Castle.
After a few moments she came back to say that Dorothy and the others
were to be admitted at once.

23.  Glinda The Good Witch Grants Dorothy’s Wish

Before they went to see Glinda, however, they were taken to a room of
the Castle, where Dorothy washed her face and combed her hair, and the
Lion shook the dust out of his mane, and the Scarecrow patted himself
into his best shape, and the Woodman polished his tin and oiled his
joints.

When they were all quite presentable they followed the soldier girl
into a big room where the Witch Glinda sat upon a throne of rubies.

She was both beautiful and young to their eyes.  Her hair was a rich
red in color and fell in flowing ringlets over her shoulders.  Her
dress was pure white but her eyes were blue, and they looked kindly
upon the little girl.

“What can I do for you, my child?” she asked.

Dorothy told the Witch all her story: how the cyclone had brought her
to the Land of Oz, how she had found her companions, and of the
wonderful adventures they had met with.

“My greatest wish now,” she added, “is to get back to Kansas, for Aunt
Em will surely think something dreadful has happened to me, and that
will make her put on mourning; and unless the crops are better this
year than they were last, I am sure Uncle Henry cannot afford it.”

Glinda leaned forward and kissed the sweet, upturned face of the loving
little girl.

“Bless your dear heart,” she said, “I am sure I can tell you of a way
to get back to Kansas.”  Then she added, “But, if I do, you must give
me the Golden Cap.”

“Willingly!” exclaimed Dorothy; “indeed, it is of no use to me now, and
when you have it you can command the Winged Monkeys three times.”

“And I think I shall need their service just those three times,”
answered Glinda, smiling.

Dorothy then gave her the Golden Cap, and the Witch said to the
Scarecrow, “What will you do when Dorothy has left us?”

“I will return to the Emerald City,” he replied, “for Oz has made me
its ruler and the people like me.  The only thing that worries me is
how to cross the hill of the Hammer-Heads.”

“By means of the Golden Cap I shall command the Winged Monkeys to carry
you to the gates of the Emerald City,” said Glinda, “for it would be a
shame to deprive the people of so wonderful a ruler.”

“Am I really wonderful?” asked the Scarecrow.

“You are unusual,” replied Glinda.

Turning to the Tin Woodman, she asked, “What will become of you when
Dorothy leaves this country?”

He leaned on his axe and thought a moment.  Then he said, “The Winkies
were very kind to me, and wanted me to rule over them after the Wicked
Witch died.  I am fond of the Winkies, and if I could get back again to
the Country of the West, I should like nothing better than to rule over
them forever.”

“My second command to the Winged Monkeys,” said Glinda “will be that
they carry you safely to the land of the Winkies.  Your brain may not
be so large to look at as those of the Scarecrow, but you are really
brighter than he is–when you are well polished–and I am sure you will
rule the Winkies wisely and well.”

Then the Witch looked at the big, shaggy Lion and asked, “When Dorothy
has returned to her own home, what will become of you?”

“Over the hill of the Hammer-Heads,” he answered, “lies a grand old
forest, and all the beasts that live there have made me their King.  If
I could only get back to this forest, I would pass my life very happily
there.”

“My third command to the Winged Monkeys,” said Glinda, “shall be to
carry you to your forest.  Then, having used up the powers of the
Golden Cap, I shall give it to the King of the Monkeys, that he and his
band may thereafter be free for evermore.”

The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Lion now thanked the Good
Witch earnestly for her kindness; and Dorothy exclaimed:

“You are certainly as good as you are beautiful!  But you have not yet
told me how to get back to Kansas.”

“Your Silver Shoes will carry you over the desert,” replied Glinda.
“If you had known their power you could have gone back to your Aunt Em
the very first day you came to this country.”

“But then I should not have had my wonderful brains!” cried the
Scarecrow.  “I might have passed my whole life in the farmer’s
cornfield.”

“And I should not have had my lovely heart,” said the Tin Woodman.  “I
might have stood and rusted in the forest till the end of the world.”

“And I should have lived a coward forever,” declared the Lion, “and no
beast in all the forest would have had a good word to say to me.”

“This is all true,” said Dorothy, “and I am glad I was of use to these
good friends.  But now that each of them has had what he most desired,
and each is happy in having a kingdom to rule besides, I think I should
like to go back to Kansas.”

“The Silver Shoes,” said the Good Witch, “have wonderful powers.  And
one of the most curious things about them is that they can carry you to
any place in the world in three steps, and each step will be made in
the wink of an eye.  All you have to do is to knock the heels together
three times and command the shoes to carry you wherever you wish to go.”

“If that is so,” said the child joyfully, “I will ask them to carry me
back to Kansas at once.”

She threw her arms around the Lion’s neck and kissed him, patting his
big head tenderly.  Then she kissed the Tin Woodman, who was weeping in
a way most dangerous to his joints.  But she hugged the soft, stuffed
body of the Scarecrow in her arms instead of kissing his painted face,
and found she was crying herself at this sorrowful parting from her
loving comrades.

Glinda the Good stepped down from her ruby throne to give the little
girl a good-bye kiss, and Dorothy thanked her for all the kindness she
had shown to her friends and herself.

Dorothy now took Toto up solemnly in her arms, and having said one last
good-bye she clapped the heels of her shoes together three times,
saying:

“Take me home to Aunt Em!”

Instantly she was whirling through the air, so swiftly that all she
could see or feel was the wind whistling past her ears.

The Silver Shoes took but three steps, and then she stopped so suddenly
that she rolled over upon the grass several times before she knew where
she was.

At length, however, she sat up and looked about her.

“Good gracious!” she cried.

For she was sitting on the broad Kansas prairie, and just before her
was the new farmhouse Uncle Henry built after the cyclone had carried
away the old one.  Uncle Henry was milking the cows in the barnyard,
and Toto had jumped out of her arms and was running toward the barn,
barking furiously.

Dorothy stood up and found she was in her stocking-feet.  For the
Silver Shoes had fallen off in her flight through the air, and were
lost forever in the desert.

24.  Home Again

Aunt Em had just come out of the house to water the cabbages when she
looked up and saw Dorothy running toward her.

“My darling child!” she cried, folding the little girl in her arms and
covering her face with kisses.  “Where in the world did you come from?”

“From the Land of Oz,” said Dorothy gravely.  “And here is Toto, too.
And oh, Aunt Em!  I’m so glad to be at home again!”