The Marvelous Land of Oz
pacing horse does; and that made its body rock sidewise, like a cradle.
Tip patted it upon the head, and said “Good boy! Good Boy!” in a
coaxing tone; and the Saw-Horse pranced away to examine with its
bulging eyes the form of Jack Pumpkinhead.
“I must find a halter for him,” said Tip; and having made a search in
his pocket he produced a roll of strong cord. Unwinding this, he
approached the Saw-Horse and tied the cord around its neck, afterward
fastening the other end to a large tree. The Saw-Horse, not
understanding the action, stepped backward and snapped the string
easily; but it made no attempt to run away.
“He’s stronger than I thought,” said the boy, “and rather obstinate,
too.”
“Why don’t you make him some ears?” asked Jack. “Then you can tell him
what to do.”
“That’s a splendid idea!” said Tip. “How did you happen to think of
it?”
“Why, I didn’t think of it,” answered the Pumpkinhead; “I didn’t need
to, for it’s the simplest and easiest thing to do.”
So Tip got out his knife and fashioned some ears out of the bark of a
small tree.
“I mustn’t make them too big,” he said, as he whittled, “or our horse
would become a donkey.”
“How is that?” inquired Jack, from the roadside.
“Why, a horse has bigger ears than a man; and a donkey has bigger ears
than a horse,” explained Tip.
“Then, if my ears were longer, would I be a horse?” asked Jack.
“My friend,” said Tip, gravely, “you’ll never be anything but a
Pumpkinhead, no matter how big your ears are.”
“Oh,” returned Jack, nodding; “I think I understand.”
“If you do, you’re a wonder,” remarked the boy “but there’s no harm in
_thinking_ you understand. I guess these ears are ready now. Will you
hold the horse while I stick them on?”
“Certainly, if you’ll help me up,” said Jack.
So Tip raised him to his feet, and the Pumpkinhead went to the horse
and held its head while the boy bored two holes in it with his
knife-blade and inserted the ears.
“They make him look very handsome,” said Jack, admiringly.
But those words, spoken close to the Saw-Horse, and being the first
sounds he had ever heard, so startled the animal that he made a bound
forward and tumbled Tip on one side and Jack on the other. Then he
continued to rush forward as if frightened by the clatter of his own
foot-steps.
“Whoa!” shouted Tip, picking himself up; “whoa! you idiot whoa!” The
Saw-Horse would probably have paid no attention to this, but just then
it stepped a leg into a gopher-hole and stumbled head-over-heels to the
ground, where it lay upon its back, frantically waving its four legs in
the air.
Tip ran up to it.
“You’re a nice sort of a horse, I must say!” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t
you stop when I yelled ‘whoa?’”
“Does ‘whoa’ mean to stop?” asked the Saw-Horse, in a surprised voice,
as it rolled its eyes upward to look at the boy.
“Of course it does,” answered Tip.
“And a hole in the ground means to stop, also, doesn’t it?” continued
the horse.
“To be sure; unless you step over it,” said Tip.
“What a strange place this is,” the creature exclaimed, as if amazed.
“What am I doing here, anyway?”
“Why, I’ve brought you to life,” answered the boy “but it won’t hurt
you any, if you mind me and do as I tell you.”
“Then I will do as you tell me,” replied the Saw-Horse, humbly. “But
what happened to me, a moment ago? I don’t seem to be just right,
someway.”
“You’re upside down,” explained Tip. “But just keep those legs still a
minute and I’ll set you right side up again.”
“How many sides have I?” asked the creature, wonderingly.
“Several,” said Tip, briefly. “But do keep those legs still.”
The Saw-Horse now became quiet, and held its legs rigid; so that Tip,
after several efforts, was able to roll him over and set him upright.
“Ah, I seem all right now,” said the queer animal, with a sigh.
“One of your ears is broken,” Tip announced, after a careful
examination. “I’ll have to make a new one.”
Then he led the Saw-Horse back to where Jack was vainly struggling to
regain his feet, and after assisting the Pumpkinhead to stand upright
Tip whittled out a new ear and fastened it to the horse’s head.
“Now,” said he, addressing his steed, “pay attention to what I’m going
to tell you. ‘Whoa!’ means to stop; ‘Get-Up!’ means to walk forward;
‘Trot!’ means to go as fast as you can. Understand?”
“I believe I do,” returned the horse.
“Very good. We are all going on a journey to the Emerald City, to see
His Majesty, the Scarecrow; and Jack Pumpkinhead is going to ride on
your back, so he won’t wear out his joints.”
“I don’t mind,” said the Saw-Horse. “Anything that suits you suits me.”
Then Tip assisted Jack to get upon the horse.
“Hold on tight,” he cautioned, “or you may fall off and crack your
pumpkin head.”
“That would be horrible!” said Jack, with a shudder. “What shall I hold
on to?”
“Why, hold on to his ears,” replied Tip, after a moment’s hesitation.
“Don’t do that!” remonstrated the Saw-Horse; “for then I can’t hear.”
That seemed reasonable, so Tip tried to think of something else.
“I’ll fix it!” said he, at length. He went into the wood and cut a
short length of limb from a young, stout tree. One end of this he
sharpened to a point, and then he dug a hole in the back of the
Saw-Horse, just behind its head. Next he brought a piece of rock from
the road and hammered the post firmly into the animal’s back.
“Stop! Stop!” shouted the horse; “you’re jarring me terribly.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the boy.
“Not exactly hurt,” answered the animal; “but it makes me quite nervous
to be jarred.”
“Well, it’s all over now” said Tip, encouragingly. “Now, Jack, be sure
to hold fast to this post and then you can’t fall off and get smashed.”
So Jack held on tight, and Tip said to the horse:
“Get up.”
The obedient creature at once walked forward, rocking from side to side
as he raised his feet from the ground.
Tip walked beside the Saw-Horse, quite content with this addition to
their party. Presently he began to whistle.
“What does that sound mean?” asked the horse.
“Don’t pay any attention to it,” said Tip. “I’m just whistling, and
that only means I’m pretty well satisfied.”
“I’d whistle myself, if I could push my lips together,” remarked Jack.
“I fear, dear father, that in some respects I am sadly lacking.”
After journeying on for some distance the narrow path they were
following turned into a broad roadway, paved with yellow brick. By the
side of the road Tip noticed a sign-post that read:
“NINE MILES TO THE EMERALD CITY.”
But it was now growing dark, so he decided to camp for the night by the
roadside and to resume the journey next morning by daybreak. He led the
Saw-Horse to a grassy mound upon which grew several bushy trees, and
carefully assisted the Pumpkinhead to alight.
“I think I’ll lay you upon the ground, overnight,” said the boy. “You
will be safer that way.”
“How about me?” asked the Saw-Horse.
“It won’t hurt you to stand,” replied Tip; “and, as you can’t sleep,
you may as well watch out and see that no one comes near to disturb
us.”
Then the boy stretched himself upon the grass beside the Pumpkinhead,
and being greatly wearied by the journey was soon fast asleep.
Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride to the Emerald City
At daybreak Tip was awakened by the Pumpkinhead. He rubbed the sleep
from his eyes, bathed in a little brook, and then ate a portion of his
bread and cheese. Having thus prepared for a new day the boy said:
“Let us start at once. Nine miles is quite a distance, but we ought to
reach the Emerald City by noon if no accidents happen.” So the
Pumpkinhead was again perched upon the back of the Saw-Horse and the
journey was resumed.
Tip noticed that the purple tint of the grass and trees had now faded
to a dull lavender, and before long this lavender appeared to take on a
greenish tinge that gradually brightened as they drew nearer to the
great City where the Scarecrow ruled.
The little party had traveled but a short two miles upon their way when
the road of yellow brick was parted by a broad and swift river. Tip was
puzzled how to cross over; but after a time he discovered a man in a
ferry-boat approaching from the other side of the stream.
When the man reached the bank Tip asked:
“Will you row us to the other side?”
“Yes, if you have money,” returned the ferryman, whose face looked
cross and disagreeable.
“But I have no money,” said Tip.
“None at all?” inquired the man.
“None at all,” answered the boy.
“Then I’ll not break my back rowing you over,” said the ferryman,
decidedly.
“What a nice man!” remarked the Pumpkinhead, smilingly.
The ferryman stared at him, but made no reply. Tip was trying to think,
for it was a great disappointment to him to find his journey so
suddenly brought to an end.
“I must certainly get to the Emerald City,” he said to the boatman;
“but how can I cross the river if you do not take me?”
The man laughed, and it was not a nice laugh.
“That wooden horse will float,” said he; “and you can ride him across.
As for the pumpkinheaded loon who accompanies you, let him sink or swim
it won’t matter greatly which.”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Jack, smiling pleasantly upon the crabbed
ferryman; “I’m sure I ought to float beautifully.”
Tip thought the experiment was worth making, and the Saw-Horse, who did
not know what danger meant, offered no objections whatever. So the boy
led it down into the water and climbed upon its back. Jack also waded
in up to his knees and grasped the tail of the horse so that he might
keep his pumpkin head above the water.
“Now,” said Tip, instructing the Saw-Horse, “if you wiggle your legs
you will probably swim; and if you swim we shall probably reach the
other side.”
The Saw-Horse at once began to wiggle its legs, which acted as oars and
moved the adventurers slowly across the river to the opposite side. So
successful was the trip that presently they were climbing, wet and
dripping, up the grassy bank.
Tip’s trouser-legs and shoes were thoroughly soaked; but the Saw-Horse
had floated so perfectly that from his knees up the boy was entirely
dry. As for the Pumpkinhead, every stitch of his gorgeous clothing
dripped water.
“The sun will soon dry us,” said Tip “and, anyhow, we are now safely
across, in spite of the ferryman, and can continue our journey.”
“I didn’t mind swimming, at all,” remarked the horse.
“Nor did I,” added Jack.
They soon regained the road of yellow brick, which proved to be a
continuation of the road they had left on the other side, and then Tip
once more mounted the Pumpkinhead upon the back of the Saw-Horse.
“If you ride fast,” said he, “the wind will help to dry your clothing.
I will hold on to the horse’s tail and run after you. In this way we
all will become dry in a very short time.”
“Then the horse must step lively,” said Jack.
“I’ll do my best,” returned the Saw-Horse, cheerfully.
Tip grasped the end of the branch that served as tail to the Saw-Horse,
and called loudly: “Get-up!”
The horse started at a good pace, and Tip followed behind. Then he
decided they could go faster, so he shouted: “Trot!”
Now, the Saw-Horse remembered that this word was the command to go as
fast as he could; so he began rocking along the road at a tremendous
pace, and Tip had hard work—running faster than he ever had before in
his life—to keep his feet.
Soon he was out of breath, and although he wanted to call “Whoa!” to
the horse, he found he could not get the word out of his throat. Then