The Marvelous Land of Oz
miserable Jackdaws’ nest whenever we please.”
“But it is nearly dark,” said the Tin Woodman; “and unless we wait
until morning to make our flight we may get into more trouble. I don’t
like these night trips, for one never knows what will happen.”
So it was decided to wait until daylight, and the adventurers amused
themselves in the twilight by searching the Jackdaws’ nest for
treasures.
The Woggle-Bug found two handsome bracelets of wrought gold, which
fitted his slender arms very well. The Scarecrow took a fancy for
rings, of which there were many in the nest. Before long he had fitted
a ring to each finger of his padded gloves, and not being content with
that display he added one more to each thumb. As he carefully chose
those rings set with sparkling stones, such as rubies, amethysts and
sapphires, the Scarecrow’s hands now presented a most brilliant
appearance.
“This nest would be a picnic for Queen Jinjur,” said he, musingly. “for
as nearly as I can make out she and her girls conquered me merely to
rob my city of its emeralds.”
The Tin Woodman was content with his diamond necklace and refused to
accept any additional decorations; but Tip secured a fine gold watch,
which was attached to a heavy fob, and placed it in his pocket with
much pride. He also pinned several jeweled brooches to Jack
Pumpkinhead’s red waistcoat, and attached a lorgnette, by means of a
fine chain, to the neck of the Saw-Horse.
“It’s very pretty,” said the creature, regarding the lorgnette
approvingly; “but what is it for?”
None of them could answer that question, however; so the Saw-Horse
decided it was some rare decoration and became very fond of it.
That none of the party might be slighted, they ended by placing several
large seal rings upon the points of the Gump’s antlers, although that
odd personage seemed by no means gratified by the attention.
Darkness soon fell upon them, and Tip and the Woggle-Bug went to sleep
while the others sat down to wait patiently for the day.
Next morning they had cause to congratulate themselves upon the useful
condition of the Gump; for with daylight a great flock of Jackdaws
approached to engage in one more battle for the possession of the nest.
But our adventurers did not wait for the assault. They tumbled into the
cushioned seats of the sofas as quickly as possible, and Tip gave the
word to the Gump to start.
At once it rose into the air, the great wings flopping strongly and
with regular motions, and in a few moments they were so far from the
nest that the chattering Jackdaws took possession without any attempt
at pursuit.
The Thing flew due North, going in the same direction from whence it
had come. At least, that was the Scarecrow’s opinion, and the others
agreed that the Scarecrow was the best judge of direction. After
passing over several cities and villages the Gump carried them high
above a broad plain where houses became more and more scattered until
they disappeared altogether. Next came the wide, sandy desert
separating the rest of the world from the Land of Oz, and before noon
they saw the dome-shaped houses that proved they were once more within
the borders of their native land.
“But the houses and fences are blue,” said the Tin Woodman, “and that
indicates we are in the land of the Munchkins, and therefore a long
distance from Glinda the Good.”
“What shall we do?” asked the boy, turning to their guide.
“I don’t know” replied the Scarecrow, frankly. “If we were at the
Emerald City we could then move directly southward, and so reach our
destination. But we dare not go to the Emerald City, and the Gump is
probably carrying us further in the wrong direction with every flop of
its wings.”
“Then the Woggle-Bug must swallow another pill,” said Tip, decidedly,
“and wish us headed in the right direction.”
“Very well,” returned the Highly Magnified one; “I’m willing.”
But when the Scarecrow searched in his pocket for the pepper-box
containing the two silver Wishing Pills, it was not to be found. Filled
with anxiety, the voyagers hunted throughout every inch of the Thing
for the precious box; but it had disappeared entirely.
And still the Gump flew onward, carrying them they knew not where.
“I must have left the pepper-box in the Jackdaws’ nest,” said the
Scarecrow, at length.
“It is a great misfortune,” the Tin Woodman declared. “But we are no
worse off than before we discovered the Wishing Pills.”
“We are better off,” replied Tip. “for the one pill we used has enabled
us to escape from that horrible nest.”
“Yet the loss of the other two is serious, and I deserve a good
scolding for my carelessness,” the Scarecrow rejoined, penitently. “For
in such an unusual party as this accidents are liable to happen any
moment, and even now we may be approaching a new danger.”
No one dared contradict this, and a dismal silence ensued.
The Gump flew steadily on.
Suddenly Tip uttered an exclamation of surprise. “We must have reached
the South Country,” he cried, “for below us everything is red!”
Immediately they all leaned over the backs of the sofas to look—all
except Jack, who was too careful of his pumpkin head to risk its
slipping off his neck. Sure enough; the red houses and fences and trees
indicated they were within the domain of Glinda the Good; and
presently, as they glided rapidly on, the Tin Woodman recognized the
roads and buildings they passed, and altered slightly the flight of the
Gump so that they might reach the palace of the celebrated Sorceress.
“Good!” cried the Scarecrow, delightedly. “We do not need the lost
Wishing Pills now, for we have arrived at our destination.”
Gradually the Thing sank lower and nearer to the ground until at length
it came to rest within the beautiful gardens of Glinda, settling upon a
velvety green lawn close by a fountain which sent sprays of flashing
gems, instead of water, high into the air, whence they fell with a
soft, tinkling sound into the carved marble basin placed to receive
them.
Everything was very gorgeous in Glinda’s gardens, and while our
voyagers gazed about with admiring eyes a company of soldiers silently
appeared and surrounded them. But these soldiers of the great Sorceress
were entirely different from those of Jinjur’s Army of Revolt, although
they were likewise girls. For Glinda’s soldiers wore neat uniforms and
bore swords and spears; and they marched with a skill and precision
that proved them well trained in the arts of war.
The Captain commanding this troop—which was Glinda’s private Body
Guard—recognized the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman at once, and greeted
them with respectful salutations.
“Good day!” said the Scarecrow, gallantly removing his hat, while the
Woodman gave a soldierly salute; “we have come to request an audience
with your fair Ruler.”
“Glinda is now within her palace, awaiting you,” returned the Captain;
“for she saw you coming long before you arrived.”
“That is strange!” said Tip, wondering.
“Not at all,” answered the Scarecrow, “for Glinda the Good is a mighty
Sorceress, and nothing that goes on in the Land of Oz escapes her
notice. I suppose she knows why we came as well as we do ourselves.”
“Then what was the use of our coming?” asked Jack, stupidly.
“To prove you are a Pumpkinhead!” retorted the Scarecrow. “But, if the
Sorceress expects us, we must not keep her waiting.”
So they all clambered out of the sofas and followed the Captain toward
the palace—even the Saw-Horse taking his place in the queer procession.
Upon her throne of finely wrought gold sat Glinda, and she could
scarcely repress a smile as her peculiar visitors entered and bowed
before her. Both the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman she knew and liked;
but the awkward Pumpkinhead and Highly Magnified Woggle-Bug were
creatures she had never seen before, and they seemed even more curious
than the others. As for the Saw-Horse, he looked to be nothing more
than an animated chunk of wood; and he bowed so stiffly that his head
bumped against the floor, causing a ripple of laughter among the
soldiers, in which Glinda frankly joined.
“I beg to announce to your glorious highness,” began the Scarecrow, in
a solemn voice, “that my Emerald City has been overrun by a crowd of
impudent girls with knitting-needles, who have enslaved all the men,
robbed the streets and public buildings of all their emerald jewels,
and usurped my throne.”
“I know it,” said Glinda.
“They also threatened to destroy me, as well as all the good friends
and allies you see before you,” continued the Scarecrow. “and had we
not managed to escape their clutches our days would long since have
ended.”
“I know it,” repeated Glinda.
“Therefore I have come to beg your assistance,” resumed the Scarecrow,
“for I believe you are always glad to succor the unfortunate and
oppressed.”
“That is true,” replied the Sorceress, slowly. “But the Emerald City is
now ruled by General Jinjur, who has caused herself to be proclaimed
Queen. What right have I to oppose her?”
“Why, she stole the throne from me,” said the Scarecrow.
“And how came you to possess the throne?” asked Glinda.
“I got it from the Wizard of Oz, and by the choice of the people,”
returned the Scarecrow, uneasy at such questioning.
“And where did the Wizard get it?” she continued gravely.
“I am told he took it from Pastoria, the former King,” said the
Scarecrow, becoming confused under the intent look of the Sorceress.
“Then,” declared Glinda, “the throne of the Emerald City belongs
neither to you nor to Jinjur, but to this Pastoria from whom the Wizard
usurped it.”
“That is true,” acknowledged the Scarecrow, humbly; “but Pastoria is
now dead and gone, and some one must rule in his place.”
“Pastoria had a daughter, who is the rightful heir to the throne of the
Emerald City. Did you know that?” questioned the Sorceress.
“No,” replied the Scarecrow. “But if the girl still lives I will not
stand in her way. It will satisfy me as well to have Jinjur turned out,
as an impostor, as to regain the throne myself. In fact, it isn’t much
fun to be King, especially if one has good brains. I have known for
some time that I am fitted to occupy a far more exalted position. But
where is the girl who owns the throne, and what is her name?”
“Her name is Ozma,” answered Glinda. “But where she is I have tried in
vain to discover. For the Wizard of Oz, when he stole the throne from
Ozma’s father, hid the girl in some secret place; and by means of a
magical trick with which I am not familiar he also managed to prevent
her being discovered—even by so experienced a Sorceress as myself.”
“That is strange,” interrupted the Woggle-Bug, pompously. “I have been
informed that the Wonderful Wizard of Oz was nothing more than a
humbug!”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed the Scarecrow, much provoked by this speech.
“Didn’t he give me a wonderful set of brains?”
“There’s no humbug about my heart,” announced the Tin Woodman, glaring
indignantly at the Woggle-Bug.
“Perhaps I was misinformed,” stammered the Insect, shrinking back; “I
never knew the Wizard personally.”
“Well, we did,” retorted the Scarecrow, “and he was a very great
Wizard, I assure you. It is true he was guilty of some slight
impostures, but unless he was a great Wizard how—let me ask—could he
have hidden this girl Ozma so securely that no one can find her?”
“I—I give it up!” replied the Woggle-Bug, meekly.
“That is the most sensible speech you’ve made,” said the Tin Woodman.
“I must really make another effort to discover where this girl is
hidden,” resumed the Sorceress, thoughtfully. “I have in my library a
book in which is inscribed every action of the Wizard while he was in