The Lost Princess of Oz
by
L. Frank Baum
Part 2 out of 3
"Nothing like it," said Scraps. "It's a make-believe. You see it,
but it isn't. Come on into the city; we've been wasting our time."
With this, she danced into the wall again and once more disappeared.
Button-Bright, who was rather venture-some, dashed away after her and
also became invisible to them. The others followed more cautiously,
stretching out their hands to feel the wall and finding, to their
astonishment, that they could feel nothing because nothing opposed
them. They walked on a few steps and found themselves in the streets
of a very beautiful city. Behind them they again saw the wall, grim
and forbidding as ever, but now they knew it was merely an illusion
prepared to keep strangers from entering the city.
But the wall was soon forgotten, for in front of them were a number of
quaint people who stared at them in amazement as if wondering where
they had come from. Our friends forgot their good manners for a time
and returned the stares with interest, for so remarkable a people had
never before been discovered in all the remarkable Land of Oz. Their
heads were shaped like diamonds, and their bodies like hearts. All
the hair they had was a little bunch at the tip top of their
diamond-shaped heads, and their eyes were very large and round, and
their noses and mouths very small. Their clothing was tight fitting
and of brilliant colors, being handsomely embroidered in quaint
designs with gold or silver threads; but on their feet they wore
sandals with no stockings whatever. The expression of their faces was
pleasant enough, although they now showed surprise at the appearance
of strangers so unlike themselves, and our friends thought they seemed
quite harmless.
"I beg your pardon," said the Wizard, speaking for his party, "for
intruding upon you uninvited, but we are traveling on important
business and find it necessary to visit your city. Will you kindly
tell us by what name your city is called?"
They looked at one another uncertainly, each expecting some other to
answer. Finally, a short one whose heart-shaped body was very broad
replied, "We have no occasion to call our city anything. It is where
we live, that is all."
"But by what name do others call your city?"asked the Wizard.
"We know of no others except yourselves," said the man. And then he
inquired, "Were you born with those queer forms you have, or has some
cruel magician transformed you to them from your natural shapes?"
"These are our natural shapes," declared the Wizard, "and we consider
them very good shapes, too."
The group of inhabitants was constantly being enlarged by others who
joined it. All were evidently startled and uneasy at the arrival of
strangers. "Have you a King?"asked Dorothy, who knew it was better
to speak with someone in authority.
But the man shook his diamond-like head. "What is a King?" he asked.
"Isn't there anyone who rules over you?"inquired the Wizard.
"No," was the reply, "each of us rules himself, or at least tries to
do so. It is not an easy thing to do, as you probably know."
The Wizard reflected.
"If you have disputes among you," said he after
a little thought, "who settles them?"
"The High Coco-Lorum," they answered in a chorus.
"And who is he?"
"The judge who enforces the laws," said the man who had first spoken.
"Then he is the principal person here?"continued the Wizard.
"Well, I would not say that," returned the man in a puzzled way. "The
High Coco-Lorum is a public servant. However, he represents the laws,
which we must all obey."
"I think," said the Wizard, "we ought to see your High Coco-Lorum and
talk with him. Our mission here requires us to consult one high in
authority, and the High Coco-Lorum ought to be high, whatever else he
is."
The inhabitants seemed to consider this proposition reasonable, for
they nodded their diamond-shaped heads in approval. So the broad one
who had been their spokesman said, "Follow me," and turning led the
way along one of the streets. The entire party followed him, the
natives falling in behind. The dwellings they passed were quite
nicely planned and seemed comfortable and convenient. After leading
them a few blocks, their conductor stopped before a house which was
neither better nor worse than the others. The doorway was shaped to
admit the strangely formed bodies of these people, being narrow at the
top, broad in the middle and tapering at the bottom. The windows were
made in much the same way, giving the house a most peculiar
appearance. When their guide opened the gate, a music box concealed
in the gatepost began to play, and the sound attracted the attention
of the High Coco-Lorum, who appeared at an open window and inquired,
"What has happened now?"
But in the same moment his eyes fell upon the strangers and he
hastened to open the door and admit them--all but the animals, which
were left outside with the throng of natives that had now gathered.
For a small city there seemed to be a large number of inhabitants, but
they did not try to enter the house and contented themselves with
staring curiously at the strange animals. Toto followed Dorothy.
Our friends entered a large room at the front of the house, where the
High Coco-Lorum asked them to be seated. "I hope your mission here is
a peaceful one," he said, looking a little worried, "for the Thists
are not very good fighters and object to being conquered."
"Are your people called Thists?" asked Dorothy.
"Yes. I thought you knew that. And we call our city Thi."
"Oh!"
."We are Thists because we eat thistles, you know," continued the High
Coco-Lorum.
"Do you really eat those prickly things?"inquired Button-Bright
wonderingly.
"Why not?" replied the other. "The sharp points of the thistles
cannot hurt us, because all our insides are gold-lined."
"Gold-lined!"
"To be sure. Our throats and stomachs are lined with solid gold, and
we find the thistles nourishing and good to eat. As a matter of fact,
there is nothing else in our country that is fit for food. All around
the City of Thi grow countless thistles, and all we need do is to go
and gather them. If we wanted anything else to eat, we would have to
plant it, and grow it, and harvest it, and that would be a lot of
trouble and make us work, which is an occupation we detest."
"But tell me, please," said the Wizard, "how does it happen that your
city jumps around so, from one part of the country to another?"
"The city doesn't jump. It doesn't move at all," declared the High
Coco-Lorum. "However, I will admit that the land that surrounds it
has a trick of turning this way or that, and so if one is standing
upon the plain and facing north, he is likely to find himself suddenly
facing west or east or south. But once you reach the thistle fields,
you are on solid ground."
"Ah, I begin to understand," said the Wizard, nodding his head. "But
I have another question to ask: How does it happen that the Thists
have no King to rule over them?"
"Hush!"whispered the High Coco-Lorum, looking uneasily around to make
sure they were not overheard. "In reality, I am the King, but the
people don't know it. They think they rule themselves, but the fact
is I have everything my own way. No one else knows anything about our
laws, and so I make the laws to suit myself. If any oppose me or
question my acts, I tell them it's the law and that settles it. If I
called myself King, however, and wore a crown and lived in royal
style, the people would not like me and might do me harm. As the High
Coco-Lorum of Thi, I am considered a very agreeable person."
"It seems a very clever arrangement," said the Wizard. "And now, as
you are the principal person in Thi, I beg you to tell us if the Royal
Ozma is a captive in your city."
"No," answered the diamond-headed man. "We have no captives. No
strangers but yourselves are here, and we have never before heard of
the Royal Ozma."
"She rules over all of Oz," said Dorothy, "and so she rules your city
and you, because you are in the Winkie Country, which is a part of the
Land of Oz."
"It may be," returned the High Coco-Lorum, "for we do not study
geography and have never inquired whether we live in the Land of Oz or
not. And any Ruler who rules us from a distance and unknown to us is
welcome to the job. But what has happened to your Royal Ozma?"
"Someone has stolen her," said the Wizard. "Do you happen to have any
talented magician among your people, one who is especially clever, you
know?"
"No, none especially clever. We do some magic, of course, but it is
all of the ordinary kind. I do not think any of us has yet aspired to
stealing Rulers, either by magic or otherwise."
"Then we've come a long way for nothing!"exclaimed Trot regretfully.
"But we are going farther than this," asserted the Patchwork Girl,
bending her stuffed body backward until her yarn hair touched the
floor and then walking around on her hands with her feet in the air.
The High Coco-Lorum watched Scraps admiringly.
"You may go farther
on, of course," said he, "but I advise you not to. The Herkus live
back of us, beyond the thistles and the twisting lands, and they are
not very nice people to meet, I assure you."
"Are they giants?" asked Betsy.
"They are worse than that," was the reply. "They have giants for
their slaves and they are so much stronger than giants that the poor
slaves dare not rebel for fear of being torn to pieces."
"How do you know?" asked Scraps.
"Everyone says so," answered the High Coco-Lorum.
"Have you seen the Herkus yourself?"inquired Dorothy.
"No, but what everyone says must be true, otherwise what would be the
use of their saying it?"
"We were told before we got here that you people hitch dragons to your
chariots," said the little girl.
"So we do," declared the High Coco-Lorum. "And that reminds me that I
ought to entertain you as strangers and my guests by taking you for a
ride around our splendid City of Thi." He touched a button, and a
band began to play. At least, they heard the music of a band, but
couldn't tell where it came from. "That tune is the order to my
charioteer to bring around my dragon-chariot," said the High
Coco-Lorum. "Every time I give an order, it is in music, which is a
much more pleasant way to address servants than in cold, stern words."
"Does this dragon of yours bite?" asked Button-Bright.
"Mercy no! Do you think I'd risk the safety of my innocent people by
using a biting dragon to draw my chariot? I'm proud to say that my
dragon is harmless, unless his steering gear breaks, and he was
manufactured at the famous dragon factory in this City of Thi. Here
he comes, and you may examine him for yourselves."
They heard a low rumble and a shrill squeaking sound, and going out to
the front of the house, they saw coming around the corner a car drawn
by a gorgeous jeweled dragon, which moved its head to right and left
and flashed its eyes like headlights of an automobile and uttered a
growling noise as it slowly moved toward them. When it stopped before
the High Coco-Lorum's house, Toto barked sharply at the sprawling
beast, but even tiny Trot could see that the dragon was not alive.
Its scales were of gold, and each one was set with sparkling jewels,
while it walked in such a stiff, regular manner that it could be
nothing else than a machine. The chariot that trailed behind it was
likewise of gold and jewels, and when they entered it, they found
there were no seats. Everyone was supposed to stand up while riding.
The charioteer was a little, diamond-headed fellow who straddled the
neck of the dragon and moved the levers that made it go.
"This," said the High Coco-Lorum pompously, "is a wonderful invention.
We are all very proud of our auto-dragons, many of which are in use by
our wealthy inhabitants. Start the thing going, charioteer!"
The charioteer did not move.
"You forgot to order him in music,"
suggested Dorothy.
"Ah, so I did."
He touched a button and a music box in the dragon's
head began to play a tune. At once the little charioteer pulled over
a lever, and the dragon began to move, very slowly and groaning
dismally as it drew the clumsy chariot after it. Toto trotted between
the wheels. The Sawhorse, the Mule, the Lion and the Woozy followed
after and had no trouble in keeping up with the machine. Indeed, they
had to go slow to keep from running into it. When the wheels turned,
another music box concealed somewhere under the chariot played a
lively march tune which was in striking contrast with the dragging
movement of the strange vehicle, and Button-Bright decided that the
music he had heard when they first sighted this city was nothing else
than a chariot plodding its weary way through the streets.
All the travelers from the Emerald City thought this ride the most
uninteresting and dreary they had ever experienced, but the High
Coco-Lorum seemed to think it was grand. He pointed out the different
buildings and parks and fountains in much the same way that the
conductor does on an American "sightseeing wagon" does, and being
guests they were obliged to submit to the ordeal. But they became a
little worried when their host told them he had ordered a banquet
prepared for them in the City Hall. "What are we going to eat?"asked
Button-Bright suspiciously.
"Thistles," was the reply. "Fine, fresh thistles, gathered this very
day."
Scraps laughed, for she never ate anything, but Dorothy said in a
protesting voice, "OUR insides are not lined with gold, you know."
"How sad!"exclaimed the High Coco-Lorum, and then he added as an
afterthought, "but we can have the thistles boiled, if you prefer."
I'm 'fraid they wouldn't taste good even then," said little Trot.
"Haven't you anything else to eat?"
The High Coco-Lorum shook his diamond-shaped head.
"Nothing that I know of," said he. "But why should we have anything
else when we have so many thistles? However, if you can't eat what
we eat, don't eat anything. We shall not be offended, and the banquet
will be just as merry and delightful."
Knowing his companions were all hungry, the Wizard said, "I trust you
will excuse us from the banquet, sir, which will be merry enough
without us, although it is given in our honor. For, as Ozma is not in
your city, we must leave here at once and seek her elsewhere."
"Sure we must!" Dorothy, and she whispered to Betsy and Trot,
"I'd rather starve somewhere else than in this city, and who knows, we
may run across somebody who eats reg'lar food and will give us some."
So when the ride was finished, in spite of the protests of the High
Coco-Lorum, they insisted on continuing their journey. "It will soon
be dark," he objected.
"We don't mind the darkness," replied the Wizard.
"Some wandering Herku may get you."
"Do you think the Herkus would hurt us?"asked Dorothy.
"I cannot say, not having had the honor of their acquaintance. But
they are said to be so strong that if they had any other place to
stand upon they could lift the world."
"All of them together?"asked Button-Bright wonderingly.
"Any one of them could do it," said the High Coco-Lorum.
"Have you heard of any magicians being among them?"
asked the Wizard, knowing that only a magician could have
stolen Ozma in the way she had been stolen.
"I am told it is quite a magical country," declared the High
Coco-Lorum, "and magic is usually performed by magicians. But I have
never heard that they have any invention or sorcery to equal our
wonderful auto-dragons."
They thanked him for his courtesy, and mounting their own animals rode
to the farther side of the city and right through the Wall of Illusion
out into the open country. "I'm glad we got away so easily," said
Betsy. "I didn't like those queer-shaped people."
"Nor did I," agreed Dorothy. "It seems dreadful to be lined with
sheets of pure gold and have nothing to eat but thistles."
"They seemed happy and contented, though," remarked the Wizard, "and
those who are contented have nothing to regret and nothing more to
wish for."
CHAPTER 10
TOTO LOSES SOMETHING
For a while the travelers were constantly losing their direction, for
beyond the thistle fields they again found themselves upon the
turning-lands, which swung them around one way and then another. But
by keeping the City of Thi constantly behind them, the adventurers
finally passed the treacherous turning-lands and came upon a stony
country where no grass grew at all. There were plenty of bushes,
however, and although it was now almost dark, the girls discovered
some delicious yellow berries growing upon the bushes, one taste of
which set them all to picking as many as they could find. The berries
relieved their pangs of hunger for a time, and as it now became too
dark to see anything, they camped where they were.
The three girls lay down upon one of the blankets--all in a row--and
the Wizard covered them with the other blanket and tucked them in.
Button-Bright crawled under the shelter of some bushes and was asleep
The Wizard sat down with his back to a big stone
and looked at the stars in the sky and thought gravely upon the
dangerous adventure they had undertaken, wondering if they would ever
be able to find their beloved Ozma again. The animals lay in a group
by themselves, a little distance from the others. "I've lost my
growl!" said Toto, who had been very silent and sober all that day.
"What do you suppose has become of it?"
"If you had asked me to keep track of your growl, I might be able to
tell you," remarked the Lion sleepily. "But frankly, Toto, I supposed
you were taking care of it yourself."
"It's an awful thing to lose one's growl," said Toto, wagging his tail
disconsolately. "What if you lost your roar, Lion? Wouldn't you feel
terrible?"
"My roar,"replied the Lion, "is the fiercest thing about me. I depend
on it to frighten my enemies so badly that they won't dare to fight
me."
"Once," said the Mule, "I lost my bray so that I couldn't call to
Betsy to let her know I was hungry. That was before I could talk, you
know, for I had not yet come into the Land of Oz, and I found it was
certainly very uncomfortable not to be able to make a noise."
"You make enough noise now," declared Toto. "But none of you have
answered my question: Where is my growl?"
"You may search ME," said the Woozy. "I don't care for such things,
myself."
"You snore terribly," asserted Toto.
"It may be," said the Woozy. "What one does when asleep one is not
accountable for. I wish you would wake me up sometime when I'm
snoring and let me hear the sound. Then I can judge whether it is
terrible or delightful."
"It isn't pleasant, I assure you," said the Lion, yawning.
"To me it seems wholly unnecessary," declared Hank the Mule.
"You ought to break yourself of the habit," said the Sawhorse. "You
never hear me snore, because I never sleep. I don't even whinny as
those puffy meat horses do. I wish that whoever stole Toto's growl
had taken the Mule's bray and the Lion's roar and the Woozy's snore at
the same time."
"Do you think, then, that my growl was stolen?"
"You have never lost it before, have you?" inquired
inquired the Sawhorse.
"Only once, when I had a sore throat from barking too long at the
moon."
"Is your throat sore now?" asked the Woozy.
"No," replied the dog.
"I can't understand," said Hank, "why dogs bark at the moon. They
can't scare the moon, and the moon doesn't pay any attention to the
bark. So why do dogs do it?"
"Were you ever a dog?" asked Toto.
"No indeed," replied Hank. "I am thankful to say I was created a
mule--the most beautiful of all beasts--and have always remained one."
The Woozy sat upon his square haunches to examine Hank with care.
"Beauty," he said, "must be a matter of taste. I don't say your
judgment is bad, friend Hank, or that you are so vulgar as to be
conceited. But if you admire big, waggy ears and a tail like a
paintbrush and hoofs big enough for an elephant and a long neck and a
body so skinny that one can count the ribs with one eye shut--if
that's your idea of beauty, Hank, then either you or I must be much
mistaken."
"You're full of edges," sneered the Mule. "If I were square as you
are, I suppose you'd think me lovely."
"Outwardly, dear Hank, I would," replied the Woozy.
"But to be really lovely, one must be beautiful without and within."
The Mule couldn't deny this statement, so he gave a disgusted grunt
and rolled over so that his back was toward the Woozy. But the Lion,
regarding the two calmly with his great, yellow eyes, said to the dog,
"My dear Toto, our friends have taught us a lesson in humility. If
the Woozy and the Mule are indeed beautiful creatures as they seem to
think, you and I must be decidedly ugly."
"Not to ourselves," protested Toto, who was a shrewd little dog. "You
and I, Lion, are fine specimens of our own races. I am a fine dog,
and you are a fine lion. Only in point of comparison, one with
another, can we be properly judged, so I will leave it to the poor old
Sawhorse to decide which is the most beautiful animal among us all.
The Sawhorse is wood, so he won't be prejudiced and will speak the
truth."
"I surely will," responded the Sawhorse, wagging his ears, which were
chips set in his wooden head. "Are you all agreed to accept my
judgment?"
"We are!" they declared, each one hopeful.
"Then," said the Sawhorse, "I must point out to you the fact that you
are all meat creatures, who tire unless they sleep and starve unless
they eat and suffer from thirst unless they drink. Such animals must
be very imperfect, and imperfect creatures cannot be beautiful. Now,
I am made of wood."
"You surely have a wooden head," said the Mule.
"Yes, and a wooden body and wooden legs, which are as swift as the
wind and as tireless. I've heard Dorothy say that 'handsome is as
handsome does,' and I surely perform my duties in a handsome manner.
Therefore, if you wish my honest judgment, I will confess that among
us all I am the most beautiful."
The Mule snorted, and the Woozy laughed; Toto had lost his growl and
could only look scornfully at the Sawhorse, who stood in his place
unmoved. But the Lion stretched himself and yawned, saying quietly,
"Were we all like the Sawhorse, we would all be Sawhorses, which would
be too many of the kind. Were we all like Hank, we would be a herd of
mules; if like Toto, we would be a pack of dogs; should we all become
the shape of the Woozy, he would no longer be remarkable for his
unusual appearance. Finally, were you all like me, I would consider
you so common that I would not care to associate with you. To be
individual, my friends, to be different from others, is the only way
to become distinguished from the common herd. Let us be glad,
therefore, that we differ from one another in form and in disposition.
Variety is the spice of life, and we are various enough to enjoy one
another's society; so let us be content."
"There is some truth in that speech," remarked Toto reflectively.
"But how about my lost growl?"
"The growl is of importance only to you," responded the Lion, "so it
is your business to worry over the loss, not ours. If you love us, do
not afflict your burdens on us; be unhappy all by yourself."
"If the same person stole my growl who stole Ozma," said the little
dog, "I hope we shall find him very soon and punish him as he
deserves. He must be the most cruel person in all the world, for to
prevent a dog from growling when it is his nature to growl is just as
wicked, in my opinion, as stealing all the magic in Oz."
CHAPTER 11
BUTTON-BRIGHT LOSES HIMSELF
The Patchwork Girl, who never slept and who could see very well in the
dark, had wandered among the rocks and bushes all night long, with the
result that she was able to tell some good news the next morning.
"Over the crest of the hill before us," she said, "is a big grove of
trees of many kinds on which all sorts of fruits grow. If you will go
there, you will find a nice breakfast awaiting you." This made them
eager to start, so as soon as the blankets were folded and strapped to
the back of the Sawhorse, they all took their places on the animals
and set out for the big grove Scraps had told them of.
As soon as they got over the brow of the hill, they discovered it to
be a really immense orchard, extending for miles to the right and left
of them. As their way led straight through the trees, they hurried
forward as fast as possible. The first trees they came to bore
quinces, which they did not like. Then there were rows of citron
trees and then crab apples and afterward limes and lemons. But beyond
these they found a grove of big, golden oranges, juicy and sweet, and
the fruit hung low on the branches so they could pluck it easily.
They helped themselves freely and all ate oranges as they continued on
their way. Then, a little farther along, they came to some trees
bearing fine, red apples, which they also feasted on, and the Wizard
stopped here long enough to tie a lot of the apples in one end of a
blanket.
"We do not know what will happen to us after we leave this
delightful orchard," he said, "so I think it wise to carry a supply of
apples with us. We can't starve as long as we have apples, you know."
Scraps wasn't riding the Woozy just now. She loved to climb the trees
and swing herself by the branches from one tree to another. Some of
the choicest fruit was gathered by the Patchwork Girl from the very
highest limbs and tossed down to the others. Suddenly, Trot asked,
"Where's Button-Bright?" and when the others looked for him, they
found the boy had disappeared.
"Dear me!" cried Dorothy. "I guess he's lost again, and that will
mean our waiting here until we can find him."
"It's a good place to wait," suggested Betsy, who had found a plum
tree and was eating some of its fruit.
"How can you wait here and find Button-Bright at one and the same
time?" inquired the Patchwork Girl, hanging by her toes on a limb just
over the heads of the three mortal girls.
"Perhaps he'll come back here," answered Dorothy.
"If he tries that, he'll prob'ly lose his way," said Trot. "I've
known him to do that lots of times. It's losing his way that gets him
lost."
"Very true," said the Wizard. "So all the rest of you must stay here
while I go look for the boy."
"Won't YOU get lost, too?" asked Betsy.
"I hope not, my dear."
"Let ME go," said Scraps, dropping lightly to the ground. "I can't
get lost, and I'm more likely to find Button-Bright than any of you."
Without waiting for permission, she darted away through the trees and
soon disappeared from their view.
"Dorothy," said Toto, squatting beside his little mistress, "I've lost
my growl."
"How did that happen?" she asked.
"I don't know," replied Toto. "Yesterday morning the Woozy nearly
stepped on me, and I tried to growl at him and found I couldn't growl
a bit."
"Can you bark?" inquired Dorothy.
"Oh, yes indeed."
"Then never mind the growl," said she.
"But what will I do when I get home to the Glass Cat and the Pink
Kitten?" asked the little dog in an anxious tone.
"They won't mind if you can't growl at them, I'm sure," said Dorothy.
"I'm sorry for you, of course, Toto, for it's just those things we
can't do that we want to do most of all; but before we get back, you
may find your growl again."
"Do you think the person who stole Ozma stole my growl?"
Dorothy smiled.
"Perhaps, Toto."
"Then he's a scoundrel!" cried the little dog.
"Anyone who would steal Ozma is as bad as bad can be," agreed Dorothy,
"and when we remember that our dear friend, the lovely Ruler of Oz, is
lost, we ought not to worry over just a growl."
Toto was not entirely satisfied with this remark, for the more he
thought upon his lost growl, the more important his misfortune became.
When no one was looking, he went away among the trees and tried his
best to growl--even a little bit--but could not manage to do so. All
he could do was bark, and a bark cannot take the place of a growl, so
he sadly returned to the others.
Now Button-Bright had no idea that he was lost at first. He had
merely wandered from tree to tree seeking the finest fruit until he
discovered he was alone in the great orchard. But that didn't worry
him just then, and seeing some apricot trees farther on, he went to
them. Then he discovered some cherry trees; just beyond these were
some tangerines. "We've found 'most ev'ry kind of fruit but peaches,"
he said to himself, "so I guess there are peaches here, too, if I can
find the trees."
He searched here and there, paying no attention to his way, until he
found that the trees surrounding him bore only nuts. He put some
walnuts in his pockets and kept on searching, and at last--right among
the nut trees--he came upon one solitary peach tree. It was a
graceful, beautiful tree, but although it was thickly leaved, it bore
no fruit except one large, splendid peach, rosy-cheeked and fuzzy and
just right to eat.
In his heart he doubted this statement, for this was a solitary peach
tree, while all the other fruits grew upon many trees set close to one
another; but that one luscious bite made him unable to resist eating
the rest of it, and soon the peach was all gone except the pit.
Button-Bright was about to throw this peach pit away when he noticed
that it was of pure gold. Of course, this surprised him, but so many
things in the Land of Oz were surprising that he did not give much
thought to the golden peach pit. He put it in his pocket, however, to
show to the girls, and five minutes afterward had forgotten all about
it.
For now he realized that he was far separated from his companions, and
knowing that this would worry them and delay their journey, he began
to shout as loud as he could. His voice did not penetrate very far
among all those trees, and after shouting a dozen times and getting no
answer, he sat down on the ground and said, "Well, I'm lost again.
It's too bad, but I don't see how it can be helped."
As he leaned his back against a tree, he looked up and saw a Bluefinch
fly down from the sky and alight upon a branch just before him. The
bird looked and looked at him. First it looked with one bright eye
and then turned its head and looked at him with the other eye. Then,
fluttering its wings a little, it said, "Oho! So you've eaten the
enchanted peach, have you?"
"Was it enchanted?" asked Button-Bright.
"Of course," replied the Bluefinch."Ugu the Shoemaker did that."
"But why? And how was it enchanted? And what will happen to one who
eats it?" questioned the boy.
."Ask Ugu the Shoemaker. He knows," said the bird, preening its
feathers with its bill.
"And who is Ugu the Shoemaker?"
"The one who enchanted the peach and placed it here--in the exact
center of the Great Orchard--so no one would ever find it. We birds
didn't dare to eat it; we are too wise for that. But you are
Button-Bright from the Emerald City, and you, YOU, YOU ate the
enchanted peach!
You must explain to Ugu the Shoemaker why you did
that." And then, before the boy could ask any more questions, the
bird flew away and left him alone.
Button-Bright was not much worried to find that the peach he had eaten
was enchanted. It certainly had tasted very good, and his stomach
didn't ache a bit. So again he began to reflect upon the best way to
rejoin his friends. "Whichever direction I follow is likely to be the
wrong one," he said to himself, "so I'd better stay just where I am
and let THEM find ME--if they can."
A White Rabbit came hopping through the orchard and paused a little
way off to look at him. "Don't be afraid," said Button-Bright. "I
won't hurt you."
"Oh, I'm not afraid for myself," returned the White Rabbit. "It's you
I'm worried about."
."Yes, I'm lost,' said the boy.
"I fear you are, indeed," answered the Rabbit. "Why on earth did you
eat the enchanted peach?"
The boy looked at the excited little animal thoughtfully. "There were
two reasons," he explained. "One reason was that I like peaches, and
the other reason was that I didn't know it was enchanted."
"That won't save you from Ugu the Shoemaker," declared the White
Rabbit, and it scurried away before the boy could ask any more
questions.
"Rabbits and birds," he thought, "are timid creatures and seem afraid
of this shoemaker, whoever he may be. If there was another peach half
as good as that other, I'd eat it in spite of a dozen enchantments or
a hundred shoemakers!"
Just then, Scraps came dancing along and saw him sitting at the foot
of the tree. "Oh, here you are!" she said. "Up to your old tricks,
eh? Don't you know it's impolite to get lost and keep everybody
waiting for you? Come along, and I'll lead you back to Dorothy and
the others."
Button-Bright rose slowly to accompany her.
"That wasn't much of a loss," he said cheerfully. "I haven't
been gone half a day, so there's no harm done."
Dorothy, however, when the boy rejoined the party, gave him a good
scolding. "When we're doing such an important thing as searching for
Ozma," said she, "it's naughty for you to wander away and keep us from
getting on. S'pose she's a pris'ner in a dungeon cell! Do you want
to keep our dear Ozma there any longer than we can help?"
"If she's in a dungeon cell, how are you going to get her out?"
inquired the boy.
"Never you mind. We'll leave that to the Wizard. He's sure to find a
way."
The Wizard said nothing, for he realized that without his magic tools
he could do no more than any other person. But there was no use
reminding his companions of that fact; it might discourage them. "The
important thing just now," he remarked, "is to find Ozma, and as our
party is again happily reunited, I propose we move on."
As they came to the edge of the Great Orchard, the sun was setting and
they knew it would soon be dark. So it was decided to camp under the
trees, as another broad plain was before them. The Wizard spread the
blankets on a bed of soft leaves, and presently all of them except
Scraps and the Sawhorse were fast asleep. Toto snuggled close to his
friend the Lion, and the Woozy snored so loudly that the Patchwork
Girl covered his square head with her apron to deaden the sound.
CHAPTER 12
CZAROVER OF HERKU
Trot wakened just as the sun rose, and slipping out of the blankets,
went to the edge of the Great Orchard and looked across the plain.
Something glittered in the far distance. "That looks like another
city," she said half aloud.
"And another city it is," declared Scraps, who had crept to Trot's
side unheard, for her stuffed feet made no sound. "The Sawhorse and I
made a journey in the dark while you were all asleep, and we found
over there a bigger city than Thi. There's a wall around it, too, but
it has gates and plenty of pathways."
"Did you get in?" asked Trot.
"No, for the gates were locked and the wall was a real wall. So we
came back here again. It isn't far to the city. We can reach it in
two hours after you've had your breakfasts."
Trot went back, and finding the other girls now awake, told them what
Scraps had said. So they hurriedly ate some fruit--there were plenty
of plums and fijoas in this part of the orchard--and then they mounted
the animals and set out upon the journey to the strange city. Hank
the Mule had breakfasted on grass, and the Lion had stolen away and
found a breakfast to his liking; he never told what it was, but
Dorothy hoped the little rabbits and the field mice had kept out of
his way. She warned Toto not to chase birds and gave the dog some
apple, with which he was quite content. The Woozy was as fond of
fruit as of any other food except honey, and the Sawhorse never ate at
all.
Except for their worry over Ozma, they were all in good spirits as
they proceeded swiftly over the plain. Toto still worried over his
lost growl, but like a wise little dog kept his worry to himself.
Before long, the city grew nearer and they could examine it with
interest.
In outward appearance the place was more imposing than Thi,
and it was a square city, with a square, four-sided wall around it,
and on each side was a square gate of burnished copper. Everything
about the city looked solid and substantial; there were no banners
flying, and the towers that rose above the city wall seemed bare of
any ornament whatever.
A path led from the fruit orchard directly to one of the city gates,
showing that the inhabitants preferred fruit to thistles. Our friends
followed this path to the gate, which they found fast shut. But the
Wizard advanced and pounded upon it with his fist, saying in a loud
voice, "Open!"
At once there rose above the great wall a row of immense heads, all of
which looked down at them as if to see who was intruding. The size of
these heads was astonishing, and our friends at once realized that
they belonged to giants who were standing within the city. All had
thick, bushy hair and whiskers, on some the hair being white and on
others black or red or yellow, while the hair of a few was just
turning gray, showing that the giants were of all ages. However
fierce the heads might seem, the eyes were mild in expression, as if
the creatures had been long subdued, and their faces expressed
patience rather than ferocity.
"What's wanted?" asked one old giant in a low, grumbling voice.
"We are strangers, and we wish to enter the city," replied the Wizard.
"Do you come in war or peace?" asked another.
"In peace, of course," retorted the Wizard, and he added impatiently,
"Do we look like an army of conquest?"
"No," said the first giant who had spoken, "you look like innocent
tramps; but you never can tell by appearances. Wait here until we
report to our masters. No one can enter here without the permission
of Vig, the Czarover."
"Who's that?" inquired Dorothy.
But the heads had all bobbed down and disappeared behind
the walls, so there was no answer. They waited a long time
before the gate rolled back with a rumbling sound, and a
loud voice cried, "Enter!" But they lost no time in taking advantage
of the invitation.
On either side of the broad street that led into the city from the
gate stood a row of huge giants, twenty of them on a side and all
standing so close together that their elbows touched. They wore
uniforms of blue and yellow and were armed with clubs as big around as
treetrunks. Each giant had around his neck a broad band of gold,
riveted on, to show he was a slave.
As our friends entered riding upon the Lion, the Woozy, the Sawhorse
and the Mule, the giants half turned and walked in two files on either
side of them, as if escorting them on their way. It looked to Dorothy
as if all her party had been made prisoners, for even mounted on their
animals their heads scarcely reached to the knees of the marching
giants. The girls and Button-Bright were anxious to know what sort of
a city they had entered, and what the people were like who had made
these powerful creatures their slaves. Through the legs of the giants
as they walked, Dorothy could see rows of houses on each side of the
street and throngs of people standing on the sidewalks, but the people
were of ordinary size and the only remarkable thing about them was the
fact that they were dreadfully lean and thin. Between their skin and
their bones there seemed to be little or no flesh, and they were
mostly stoop-shouldered and weary looking, even to the little
children.
More and more, Dorothy wondered how and why the great giants had ever
submitted to become slaves of such skinny, languid masters, but there
was no chance to question anyone until they arrived at a big palace
located in the heart of the city. Here the giants formed lines to the
entrance and stood still while our friends rode into the courtyard of
the palace. Then the gates closed behind them, and before them was a
skinny little man who bowed low and said in a sad voice, "If you will
be so obliging as to dismount, it will give me pleasure to lead you
into the presence of the World's Most Mighty Ruler, Vig the Czarover."
"I don't believe it!" said Dorothy indignantly.
"What don't you believe?" asked the man.
"I don't believe your Czarover can hold a candle to our Ozma."
"He wouldn't hold a candle under any circumstances, or to any living
person," replied the man very seriously, "for he has slaves to do such
things and the Mighty Vig is too dignified to do anything that others
can do for him. He even obliges a slave to sneeze for him, if ever he
catches cold. However, if you dare to face our powerful ruler, follow
me."
"We dare anything," said the Wizard, "so go ahead."
Through several marble corridors having lofty ceilings they passed,
finding each corridor and doorway guarded by servants. But these
servants of the palace were of the people and not giants, and they
were so thin that they almost resembled skeletons. Finally, they
entered a great circular room with a high, domed ceiling, where the
Czarover sat on a throne cut from a solid block of white marble and
decorated with purple silk hangings and gold tassels.
The ruler of these people was combing his eyebrows when our friends
entered the throne room and stood before him, but he put the comb in
his pocket and examined the strangers with evident curiosity. Then he
said, "Dear me, what a surprise! You have really shocked me. For no
outsider has ever before come to our City of Herku, and I cannot
imagine why you have ventured to do so."
"We are looking for Ozma, the Supreme Ruler of the Land of Oz,"
replied the Wizard.
"Do you see her anywhere around here?" asked the Czarover.
"Not yet, Your Majesty, but perhaps you may tell us where she is."
"No, I have my hands full keeping track of my own people. I find them
hard to manage because they are so tremendously strong."
"They don't look very strong," said Dorothy. "It seems as if a good
wind would blow 'em way out of the city if it wasn't for the wall."
"Just so, just so," admitted the Czarover. "They really look that
way, don't they? But you must never trust to appearances, which have
a way of fooling one. Perhaps you noticed that I prevented you from
meeting any of my people. I protected you with my giants while you
were on the way from the gates to my palace so that not a Herku got
near you."
"Are your people so dangerous, then?"asked the Wizard.
"To strangers, yes. But only because they are so friendly. For if
they shake hands with you, they are likely to break your arms or crush
your fingers to a jelly."
"Why?" asked Button-Bright.
"Because we are the strongest people in all the world."
"Pshaw!"exclaimed the boy. "That's bragging. You prob'ly don't know
how strong other people are. Why, once I knew a man in Philadelphi'
who could bend iron bars with just his hands!"
"But mercy me, it's no trick to bend iron bars," said His Majesty.
"Tell me, could this man crush a block of stone with his bare hands?"
"No one could do that," declared the boy.
"If I had a block of stone, I'd show you," said the Czarover, looking
around the room. "Ah, here is my throne. The back is too high,
anyhow, so I'll just break off a piece of that." He rose to his feet
and tottered in an uncertain way around the throne. Then he took hold
of the back and broke off a piece of marble over a foot thick.
"This," said he, coming back to his seat, "is very solid marble and
much harder than ordinary stone. Yet I can crumble it easily with my
fingers, a proof that I am very strong."
Even as he spoke, he began breaking off chunks of marble and crumbling
them as one would a bit of earth. The Wizard was so astonished that
he took a piece in his own hands and tested it, finding it very hard
indeed.
Just then one of the giant servants entered and exclaimed, "Oh, Your
Majesty, the cook has burned the soup! What shall we do?"
"How dare you interrupt me?".
"asked the Czarover, and grasping the
immense giant by one of his legs, he raised him in the air and threw
him headfirst out of an open window. "Now, tell me," he said, turning
to Button-Bright, "could your man in Philadelphia crumble marble in
his fingers?"
."I guess not," said Button-Bright, much impressed by the skinny
monarch's strength.
"What makes you so strong?" inquired Dorothy.
"It's the zosozo," he explained, "which is an invention of my own. I
and all my people eat zosozo, and it gives us tremendous strength.
Would you like to eat some?"
"No thank you," replied the girl. "I--I don't want to get so thin."
"Well, of course one can't have strength and flesh at the same time,"
said the Czarover. "Zosozo is pure energy, and it's the only compound
of its sort in existence. I never allow our giants to have it, you
know, or they would soon become our masters, since they are bigger
that we; so I keep all the stuff locked up in my private laboratory.
Once a year I feed a teaspoonful of it to each of my people--men,
women and children--so every one of them is nearly as strong as I am.
Wouldn't YOU like a dose, sir?" he asked, turning to the Wizard.
"Well," said the Wizard, "if you would give me a little zosozo in a
bottle, I'd like to take it with me on my travels. It might come in
handy on occasion."
"To be sure. I'll give you enough for six doses," promised the
Czarover.
"But don't take more than a teaspoonful at a time. Once Ugu
the Shoemaker took two teaspoonsful, and it made him so strong that
when he leaned against the city wall, he pushed it over, and we had to
build it up again."
"Who is Ugu the Shoemaker?"
Button-Bright curiously, for he now remembered that the bird and
the rabbit had claimed Ugu the Shoemaker had enchanted the
peach he had eaten.
"Why, Ugu is a great magician who used to live here. But he's gone
away now," replied the Czarover.
"Where has he gone?" asked the Wizard quickly.
"I am told he lives in a wickerwork castle in the mountains to the
west of here. You see, Ugu became such a powerful magician that he
didn't care to live in our city any longer for fear we would discover
some of his secrets. So he went to the mountains and built him a
splendid wicker castle which is so strong that even I and my people
could not batter it down, and there he lives all by himself."
"This is good news," declared the Wizard, "for I think this is just
the magician we are searching for. But why is he called Ugu the
Shoemaker?"
"Once he was a very common citizen here and made shoes for a living,"
replied the monarch of Herku. "But he was descended from the greatest
wizard and sorcerer who ever lived in this or in any other country,
and one day Ugu the Shoemaker discovered all the magical books and
recipes of his famous great-grandfather, which had been hidden away in
the attic of his house. So he began to study the papers and books and
to practice magic, and in time he became so skillful that, as I said,
he scorned our city and built a solitary castle for himself."
"Do you think" asked Dorothy anxiously, "that Ugu the Shoemaker would
be wicked enough to steal our Ozma of Oz?"
"And the Magic Picture?" asked Trot.
"And the Great Book of Records of Glinda the Good?"
asked Betsy.
"And my own magic tools?" asked the Wizard.
" replied the Czarover, "I won't say that Ugu is wicked,
exactly, but he is very ambitious to become the most powerful magician
in the world, and so I suppose he would not be too proud to steal any
magic things that belonged to anybody else--if he could manage to do
so."
"But how about Ozma? Why would he wish to steal HER?"questioned
Dorothy.
"Don't ask me, my dear. Ugu doesn't tell me why he does things, I
assure you."
Then we must go and ask him ourselves," declared the little girl.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," advised the Czarover, looking
first at the three girls and then at the boy and the little Wizard and
finally at the stuffed Patchwork Girl. "If Ugu has really stolen your
Ozma, he will probably keep her a prisoner, in spite of all your
threats or entreaties. And with all his magical knowledge he would be
a dangerous person to attack. Therefore, if you are wise, you will go
home again and find a new Ruler for the Emerald City and the Land of
Oz. But perhaps it isn't Ugu the Shoemaker who has stolen your Ozma."
"The only way to settle that question," replied the Wizard, "is to go
to Ugu's castle and see if Ozma is there. If she is, we will report
the matter to the great Sorceress Glinda the Good, and I'm pretty sure
she will find a way to rescue our darling ruler from the Shoemaker."
"Well, do as you please," said the Czarover, "but if you are all
transformed into hummingbirds or caterpillars, don't blame me for not
warning you."
They stayed the rest of that day in the City of Herku and were fed at
the royal table of the Czarover and given sleeping rooms in his
palace. The strong monarch treated them very nicely and gave the
Wizard a little golden vial of zosozo to use if ever he or any of his
Even at the last, the Czarover tried to persuade them not to go
near Ugu the Shoemaker, but they were resolved on the venture,
and the next morning bade the friendly monarch a cordial goodbye
and, mounting upon their animals, left the Herkus and the City of
Herku and headed for the mountains that lay to the west.
CHAPTER 13
TRUTH POND
It seems a long time since we have heard anything of the Frogman and
Cayke the Cookie Cook, who had left the Yip Country in search of the
diamond-studded dishpan which had been mysteriously stolen the same
night that Ozma had disappeared from the Emerald City.
But you must remember that while the Frogman and the Cookie
Cook were preparing to descend from their mountaintop, and
even while on their way to the farmhouse of Wiljon the Winkie,
Dorothy and the Wizard and their friends were encountering
the adventures we have just related.
So it was that on the very morning when the travelers from the Emerald
City bade farewell to the Czarover of the City of Herku, Cayke and the
Frogman awoke in a grove in which they had passed the night sleeping
on beds of leaves. There were plenty of farmhouses in the
neighborhood, but no one seemed to welcome the puffy, haughty Frogman
or the little dried-up Cookie Cook, and so they slept comfortably
enough underneath the trees of the grove. The Frogman wakened first
on this morning, and after going to the tree where Cayke slept and
finding her still wrapped in slumber, he decided to take a little walk
and seek some breakfast. Coming to the edge of the grove, he observed
half a mile away a pretty yellow house that was surrounded by a yellow
picket fence, so he walked toward this house and on entering the yard
found a Winkie woman picking up sticks with which to build a fire to
cook her morning meal.
"For goodness sake!" she exclaimed on seeing the Frogman. "What are
you doing out of your frog-pond?"
"I am traveling in search of a jeweled gold dishpan, my good woman,"
he replied with an air of great dignity.
"You won't find it here, then," said she."Our dishpans are tin, and
they're good enough for anybody. So go back to your pond and leave me
alone." She spoke rather crossly and with a lack of respect that
greatly annoyed the Frogman.
"Allow me to tell you, madam," said he, "that although I am a frog, I
am the Greatest and Wisest Frog in all the world. I may add that I
possess much more wisdom than any Winkie--man or woman--in this land.
Wherever I go, people fall on their knees before me and render homage
to the Great Frogman! No one else knows so much as I; no one else is
so grand, so magnificent!"
"If you know so much," she retorted, "why don't you know where your
dishpan is instead of chasing around the country after it?"
"Presently," he answered, "I am going where it is, but just now I am
traveling and have had no breakfast. Therefore I honor you by asking
you for something to eat."
"Oho! The Great Frogman is hungry as any tramp, is he? Then pick up
these sticks and help me to build the fire," said the woman
contemptuously.
"Me! The Great Frogman pick up sticks?" he exclaimed in horror. "In
the Yip Country where I am more honored and powerful than any King
could be, people weep with joy when I ask them to feed me."
"Then that's the place to go for your breakfast," declared the woman.
"I fear you do not realize my importance," urged the Frogman.
"Exceeding wisdom renders me superior to menial duties."
"It's a great wonder to me," remarked the woman, carrying her sticks
to the house, "that your wisdom doesn't inform you that you'll get no
breakfast here." And she went in and slammed the door behind her.
The Frogman felt he had been insulted, so he gave a loud croak of
indignation and turned away. After going a short distance, he came
upon a faint path which led across a meadow in the direction of a
grove of pretty trees, and thinking this circle of evergreens must
surround a house where perhaps he would be kindly received, he decided
to follow the path. And by and by he came to the trees, which were
set close together, and pushing aside some branches he found no house
inside the circle, but instead a very beautiful pond of clear water.
Now the Frogman, although he was so big and well educated and now aped
the ways and customs of human beings, was still a frog. As he gazed
at this solitary, deserted pond, his love for water returned to him
with irresistible force. "If I cannot get a breakfast, I may at least
have a fine swim," said he, and pushing his way between the trees, he
reached the bank. There he took off his fine clothing, laying his
shiny purple hat and his gold-headed cane beside it. A moment later,
he sprang with one leap into the water and dived to the very bottom of
the pond.
The water was deliciously cool and grateful to his thick, rough skin,
and the Frogman swam around the pond several times before he stopped
to rest. Then he floated upon the surface and examined the pond with
The bottom and sides were all lined with glossy tiles of a light pink
color; just one place in the bottom where the water bubbled up from
a hidden spring had been left free. On the banks, the green grass
grew to the edge of the pink tiling. And now, as the Frogman examined
the place, he found that on one side of the pool, just above the water
line, had been set a golden plate on which some words were deeply
engraved. He swam toward this plate, and on reaching it read the
following inscription:
This is
THE TRUTH POND
$$Whoever bathes in this
water must always afterward tell
THE TRUTH.&&
This statement startled the Frogman. It even worried him, so that he
leaped upon the bank and hurriedly began to dress himself. "A great
misfortune has befallen me," he told himself, "for hereafter I cannot
tell people I am wise, since it is not the truth. The truth is that
my boasted wisdom is all a sham, assumed by me to deceive people and
make them defer to me. In truth, no living creature can know much
more than his fellows, for one may know one thing, and another know
another thing, so that wisdom is evenly scattered throughout the
world. But--ah me!--what a terrible fate will now be mine. Even
Cayke the Cookie Cook will soon discover that my knowledge is no
greater than her own, for having bathed in the enchanted water of the
Truth Pond, I can no longer deceive her or tell a lie."
More humbled than he had been for many years, the Frogman went back to
the grove where he had left Cayke and found the woman now awake and
washing her face in a tiny brook. "Where has Your Honor been?" she
asked.
"To a farmhouse to ask for something to eat," said he, "but the woman
refused me."
"How dreadful!" she exclaimed. "But never mind, there are other
houses where the people will be glad to feed the Wisest Creature in
all the World."
"Do you mean yourself?" he asked.
"No, I mean you."
The Frogman felt strongly impelled to tell the truth, but struggled
hard against it. His reason told him there was no use in letting
Cayke know he was not wise, for then she would lose much respect for
him, but each time he opened his mouth to speak, he realized he was
about to tell the truth and shut it again as quickly as possible. He
tried to talk about something else, but the words necessary to
undeceive the woman would force themselves to his lips in spite of all
his struggles. Finally, knowing that he must either remain dumb or
let the truth prevail, he gave a low groan of despair and said,
"Cayke, I am NOT the Wisest Creature in all the World; I am not wise
at all."
"Oh, you must be!" she protested. "You told me so yourself, only last evening."
"Then last evening I failed to tell you the truth," he admitted,
looking very shamefaced for a frog. "I am sorry I told you this lie,
my good Cayke, but if you must know the truth, the whole truth and
nothing but the truth, I am not really as wise as you are."
The Cookie Cook was greatly shocked to hear this, for it shattered one
of her most pleasing illusions. She looked at the gorgeously dressed
Frogman in amazement. "What has caused you to change your mind so
suddenly?" she inquired.
"I have bathed in the Truth Pond," he said, "and whoever bathes in
that water is ever afterward obliged to tell the truth."
"You were foolish to do that," declared the woman.
"It is often very embarrassing to tell the truth. I'm glad I didn't
bathe in that dreadful water!"
The Frogman looked at his companion thoughtfully. "Cayke," said he,
"I want you to go to the Truth Pond and take a bath in its water. For
if we are to travel together and encounter unknown adventures, it
would not be fair that I alone must always tell you the truth, while
you could tell me whatever you pleased. If we both dip in the
enchanted water, there will be no chance in the future of our
deceiving one another."
"No," she asserted, shaking her head positively, "I won't do it, Your
Honor. For if I told you the truth, I'm sure you wouldn't like me.
No Truth Pond for me.
I'll be just as I am, an honest woman who can
say what she wants to without hurting anyone's feelings."
With this decision the Frogman was forced to be content, although he
was sorry the Cookie Cook would not listen to his advice.
CHAPTER 14
THE UNHAPPY FERRYMAN
Leaving the grove where they had slept, the Frogman and the Cookie
Cook turned to the east to seek another house, and after a short walk
came to one where the people received them very politely. The
children stared rather hard at the big, pompous Frogman, but the woman
of the house, when Cayke asked for something to eat, at once brought
them food and said they were welcome to it. "Few people in need of
help pass this way," she remarked, "for the Winkies are all prosperous
and love to stay in their own homes. But perhaps you are not a
Winkie," she added.
"No," said Cayke, "I am a Yip, and my home is on a high mountain at
the southeast of your country."
"And the Frogman, is he also a Yip?"
"I do not know what he is, other than a very remarkable and highly
educated creature," replied the Cookie Cook. "But he has lived many
years among the Yips, who have found him so wise and intelligent that
they always go to him for advice."
"May I ask why you have left your home and where you are going?" said
the Winkie woman.
Then Cayke told her of the diamond-studded gold dishpan and how it had
been mysteriously stolen from her house, after which she had
discovered that she could no longer cook good cookies. So she had
resolved to search until she found her dishpan again, because a Cookie
cook who cannot cook good cookies is not of much use. The Frogman,
who had wanted to see more of the world, had accompanied her to assist
in the search. When the woman had listened to this story, she asked,
"Then you have no idea as yet who has stolen your dishpan?"
"I only know it must have been some mischievous fairy, or a magician,
or some such powerful person, because none other could have climbed
the steep mountain to the Yip Country. And who else could have
carried away my beautiful magic dishpan without being seen?"
The woman thought about this during the time that Cayke and the
Frogman ate their breakfast. When they had finished, she said, "Where
are you going next?"
"We have not decided," answered the Cookie cook.
"Our plan," explained the Frogman in his important way, "is to travel
from place to place until we learn where the thief is located and then
to force him to return the dishpan to its proper owner."
"The plan is all right," agreed the woman, "but it may take you a long
time before you succeed, your method being sort of haphazard and
indefinite. However, I advise you to travel toward the east."
"Why?" asked the Frogman.
"Because if you went west, you would soon come to the desert, and also
because in this part of the Winkie Country no one steals, so your time
here would be wasted. But toward the east, beyond the river, live
many strange people whose honesty I would not vouch for. Moreover, if
you journey far enough east and cross the river for a second time, you
will come to the Emerald City, where there is much magic and sorcery.
The Emerald City is ruled by a dear little girl called Ozma, who also
rules the Emperor of the Winkies and all the Land of Oz. So, as Ozma
is a fairy, she may be able to tell you just who has taken your
precious dishpan. Provided, of course, you do not find it before you
reach her."
."This seems to be to be excellent advice," said the Frogman, and Cayke
agreed with him.
."The most sensible thing for you to do," continued the woman, "would
be to return to your home and use another dishpan, learn to cook
cookies as other people cook cookies, without the aid of magic. But
if you cannot be happy without the magic dishpan you have lost, you
are likely to learn more about it in the Emerald City than at any
other place in Oz."
They thanked the good woman, and on leaving her house faced the east
and continued in that direction all the way. Toward evening they came
to the west branch of the Winkie River and there, on the riverbank,
found a ferryman who lived all alone in a little yellow house. This
ferryman was a Winkie with a very small head and a very large body.
He was sitting in his doorway as the travelers approached him and did
not even turn his head to look at them.
"Good evening," said the Frogman.
The ferryman made no reply.
"We would like some supper and the privilege of sleeping in your house
until morning," continued the Frogman. "At daybreak, we would like
some breakfast, and then we would like to have you row us across the
river."
The ferryman neither moved nor spoke. He sat in his doorway and
looked straight ahead. "I think he must be deaf and dumb," Cayke
whispered to her companion. Then she stood directly in front of the
ferryman, and putting her mouth close to his ear, she yelled as loudly
as she could, "Good evening!"
The ferryman scowled.
"Why do you yell at me, woman?" he asked.
"Can you hear what I say?" asked in her ordinary tone of voice.
"Of course," replied the man.
"Then why didn't you answer the Frogman?"
"Because," said the ferryman, "I don't understand the frog language."
"He speaks the same words that I do and in the same way," declared
Cayke.
"Perhaps," replied the ferryman, "but to me his voice sounded like a
frog's croak. I know that in the Land of Oz animals can speak our
language, and so can the birds and bugs and fishes; but in MY ears,
they sound merely like growls and chirps and croaks."
"Why is that?" asked the Cookie Cook in surprise.
"Once, many years ago, I cut the tail off a fox which had taunted me,
and I stole some birds' eggs from a nest to make an omelet with, and
also I pulled a fish from the river and left it lying on the bank to
gasp for lack of water until it died. I don't know why I did those
wicked things, but I did them. So the Emperor of the Winkies--who is
the Tin Woodman and has a very tender tin heart--punished me by
denying me any communication with beasts, birds or fishes. I cannot
understand them when they speak to me, although I know that other
people can do so, nor can the creatures understand a word I say to
them. Every time I meet one of them, I am reminded of my former
cruelty, and it makes me very unhappy."
"Really," said Cayke, "I'm sorry for you, although the Tin Woodman is
not to blame for punishing you."
"What is he mumbling about?" asked the Frogman.
"He is talking to me, but you don't understand him," she replied. And
then she told him of the ferryman's punishment and afterward explained
to the ferryman that they wanted to stay all night with him and be
fed. He gave them some fruit and bread, which was the only sort of
food he had, and he allowed Cayke to sleep in a room of his cottage.
But the Frogman he refused to admit to his house, saying that the
frog's presence made him miserable and unhappy. At no time would he
directly at the Frogman, or even toward him, fearing he would
shed tears if he did so; so the big frog slept on the riverbank where
he could hear little frogs croaking in the river all the night
through. But that did not keep him awake; it merely soothed him to
slumber, for he realized how much superior he was to them.
Just as the sun was rising on a new day, the ferryman rowed the two
travelers across the river--keeping his back to the Frogman all the
way--and then Cayke thanked him and bade him goodbye and the ferryman
rowed home again.
On this side of the river, there were no paths at
all, so it was evident they had reached a part of the country little
frequented by travelers. There was a marsh at the south of them,
sandhills at the north, and a growth of scrubby underbrush leading
toward a forest at the east. So the east was really the least
difficult way to go, and that direction was the one they had
determined to follow.
Now the Frogman, although he wore green patent-leather shoes with ruby
buttons, had very large and flat feet, and when he tramped through the
scrub, his weight crushed down the underbrush and made a path for
Cayke to follow him. Therefore they soon reached the forest, where
the tall trees were set far apart but were so leafy that they shaded
all the spaces between them with their branches. "There are no bushes
here," said Cayke, much pleased, "so we can now travel faster and with
more comfort."
CHAPTER 15
THE BIG LAVENDER BEAR
It was a pleasant place to wander, and the two travelers were
proceeding at a brisk pace when suddenly a voice shouted, "Halt!"
They looked around in surprise, seeing at first no one at all. Then
from behind a tree there stepped a brown, fuzzy bear whose head came
about as high as Cayke's waist--and Cayke was a small woman. The bear
was chubby as well as fuzzy; his body was even puffy, while his legs
and arms seemed jointed at the knees and elbows and fastened to his
body by pins or rivets. His ears were round in shape and stuck out in
a comical way, while his round, black eyes were bright and sparkling
as beads. Over his shoulder the little brown bear bore a gun with a
tin barrel. The barrel had a cork in the end of it, and a string was
attached to the cork and to the handle of the gun. Both the Frogman
and Cayke gazed hard at this curious bear, standing silent for some
time. But finally the Frogman recovered from his surprise and
remarked, "It seems to me that you are stuffed with sawdust and ought
not to be alive."
"That's all you know about it," answered the little Brown Bear in a
squeaky voice. "I am stuffed with a very good quality of curled hair,
and my skin is the best plush that was ever made. As for my being
alive, that is my own affair and cannot concern you at all, except
that it gives me the privilege to say you are my prisoners."
"Prisoners! Why do you speak such nonsense?" the Frogman
angrily. "Do you think we are afraid of a toy bear with a toy gun?"
"You ought to be," was the confident reply, "for I am merely the
sentry guarding the way to Bear Center, which is a city containing
hundreds of my race, who are ruled by a very powerful sorcerer known
as the Lavender Bear.
He ought to be a purple color, you know, seeing
he is a King, but he's only light lavender, which is, of course,
second cousin to royal purple. So unless you come with me peaceably
as my prisoners, I shall fire my gun and bring a hundred bears of all
sizes and colors to capture you."
"Why do you wish to capture us?" inquired the Frogman, who had
listened to his speech with much astonishment.
"I don't wish to, as a matter of fact," replied the little Brown Bear,
"but it is my duty to, because you are now trespassing on the domain
of His Majesty, the King of Bear Center. Also, I will admit that
things are rather quiet in our city just now, and the excitement of
your capture, followed by your trial and execution, should afford us
much entertainment."
"We defy you!" said the Frogman.
"Oh no, don't do that," pleaded Cayke, speaking to her companion. "He
says his King is a sorcerer, so perhaps it is he or one of his bears
who ventured to steal my jeweled dishpan. Let us go to the City of
the Bears and discover if my dishpan is there."
"I must now register one more charge against you," remarked the little
Brown Bear with evident satisfaction. "You have just accused us of
stealing, and that is such a dreadful thing to say that I am quite
sure our noble King will command you to be executed."
"But how could you execute us?" inquired the Cookie Cook.
"I've no idea. But our King is a wonderful inventor, and there is no
doubt he can find a proper way to destroy you. So tell me, are you
going to struggle, or will you go peaceably to meet your doom?"
It was all so ridiculous that Cayke laughed aloud, and even the
Frogman's wide mouth curled in a smile. Neither was a bit afraid to
go to the Bear City, and it seemed to both that there was a
possibility they might discover the missing dishpan. So the Frogman
said, "Lead the way, little Bear, and we will follow without a
struggle."
"That's very sensible of you, very sensible indeed," declared the
Brown Bear. "So for-ward, MARCH!" And with the command he turned
around and began to waddle along a path that led between the trees.
Cayke and the Frogman, as they followed their conductor, could scarce
forbear laughing at his stiff, awkward manner of walking, and although
he moved his stuffy legs fast, his steps were so short that they had
to go slowly in order not to run into him. But after a time they
reached a large, circular space in the center of the forest, which was
clear of any stumps or underbrush. The ground was covered by a soft,
gray moss, pleasant to tread upon. All the trees surrounding this
space seemed to be hollow and had round holes in their trunks, set a
little way above the ground, but otherwise there was nothing unusual
about the place and nothing, in the opinion of the prisoners, to
indicate a settlement. But the little Brown Bear said in a proud and
impressive voice (although it still squeaked), "This is the wonderful
city known to fame as Bear Center!"
"But there are no houses, there are no bears living here at all!"
exclaimed Cayke.
"Oh indeed!" retorted their captor, and raising his gun he pulled the
trigger. The cork flew out of the tin barrel with a loud "pop!" and
at once from every hole in every tree within view of the clearing
appeared the head of a bear. They were of many colors and of many
sizes, but all were made in the same manner as the bear who had met
and captured them.
At first a chorus of growls arose, and then a sharp voice cried, "What
has happened, Corporal Waddle?"
"Captives, Your Majesty!" answered the Brown Bear. "Intruders upon
our domain and slanderers of our good name."
"Ah, that's important," answered the voice.
Then from out the hollow trees tumbled a whole regiment of stuffed
bears, some carrying tin swords, some popguns and others long spears
with gay ribbons tied to the handles. There were hundreds of them,
altogether, and they quietly formed a circle around the Frogman and
the Cookie Cook, but kept at a distance and left a large space for the
prisoners to stand in. Presently, this circle parted, and into the
center of it stalked a huge toy bear of a lovely lavender color. He
walked upon his hind legs, as did all the others, and on his head he
wore a tin crown set with diamonds and amethysts, while in one paw he
carried a short wand of some glittering metal that resembled silver
but wasn't.
"His Majesty the King!" Corporal Waddle, and all the bears
bowed low. Some bowed so low that they lost their balance and toppled
over, but they soon scrambled up again, and the Lavender King squatted
on his haunches before the prisoners and gazed at them steadily with
his bright, pink eyes.
CHAPTER 16
THE LITTLE PINK BEAR
"One Person and one Freak," said the big Lavender Bear when he had
carefully examined the strangers.
"I am sorry to hear you call poor Cayke the Cookie Cook a Freak,"
remonstrated the Frogman.
"She is the Person," asserted the King. "Unless I am mistaken, it is
you who are the Freak."
The Frogman was silent, for he could not truthfully deny it.
"Why have you dared intrude in my forest?" demanded
demanded the Bear King.
"We didn't know it was your forest," said Cayke, "and we are on our
way to the far east, where the Emerald City is."
"Ah, it's a long way from here to the Emerald City," remarked the
King. "It is so far away, indeed, that no bear among us has even been
there. But what errand requires you to travel such a distance?"
"Someone has stolen my diamond-studded gold dishpan," explained Cayke,
"and as I cannot be happy without it, I have decided to search the
world over until I find it again. The Frogman, who is very learned
and wonderfully wise, has come with me to give me his assistance.
Isn't it kind of him?"
The King looked at the Frogman.
"What makes you so wonderfully wise?"
he asked.
"I'm not," was the candid reply."The Cookie Cook and some others in
the Yip Country think because I am a big frog and talk and act like a
man that I must be very wise. I have learned more than a frog usually
knows, it is true, but I am not yet so wise as I hope to become at
some future time."
The King nodded, and when he did so, something squeaked in his chest.
"Did Your Majesty speak?" asked Cayke.
"Not just then," answered the Lavender Bear, seeming to be somewhat
embarrassed. "I am so built, you must know, that when anything pushes
against my chest, as my chin accidentally did just then, I make that
silly noise. In this city it isn't considered good manners to notice.
But I like your Frogman.
He is honest and truthful, which is more than can be said
of many others. As for your late lamented dishpan, I'll
show it to you." With this he waved three times the metal wand
which he held in his paw, and instantly there appeared upon the ground
midway between the King and Cayke a big, round pan made of beaten
gold. Around the top edge was a row of small diamonds; around the
center of the pan was another row of larger diamonds; and at the
bottom was a row of exceedingly large and brilliant diamonds. In
fact, they all sparkled magnificently, and the pan was so big and
broad that it took a lot of diamonds to go around it three times.
Cayke stared so hard that her eyes seemed about to pop out of her
head. "O-o-o-h!" she exclaimed, drawing a deep breath of delight.
"Is this your dishpan?" inquired the King.
"It is, it is!" cried the Cookie Cook, and rushing forward, she fell
on her knees and threw her arms around the precious pan. But her arms
came together without meeting any resistance at all. Cayke tried to
seize the edge, but found nothing to grasp. The pan was surely there,
she thought, for she could see it plainly; but it was not solid; she
could not feel it at all. With a moan of astonishment and despair,
she raised her head to look at the Bear King, who was watching her
actions curiously. Then she turned to the pan again, only to find it
had completely disappeared.
"Poor creature!" murmured the King pityingly. "You must have thought,
for the moment, that you had actually recovered your dishpan. But
what you saw was merely the image of it, conjured up by means of my
magic. It is a pretty dishpan, indeed, though rather big and awkward
to handle. I hope you will some day find it."
Cayke was grievously disappointed. She began to cry, wiping her eyes
on her apron. The King turned to the throng of toy bears surrounding
him and asked, "Has any of you ever seen this golden dishpan before?"
"No," they answered in a chorus.
The King seemed to reflect. Presently he inquired, "Where is the
Little Pink Bear?"
"At home, Your Majesty," was the reply.
"Fetch him here," commanded the King.
Several of the bears waddled over to one of the trees and pulled
from its hollow a tiny pink bear, smaller than any of the others.
A big, white bear carried the pink one in his arms and set it down
beside the King, arranging the joints of its legs so that it would stand upright.
This Pink Bear seemed lifeless until the King turned a crank which
protruded from its side, when the little creature turned its head
stiffly from side to side and said in a small, shrill voice, "Hurrah
for the King of Bear Center!"
"Very good," said the big Lavender Bear. "He seems to be working very
well today. Tell me, my Pink Pinkerton, what has become of this
lady's jeweled dishpan?"
"U-u-u," said the Pink Bear, and then stopped short.
The King turned the crank again.
"U-g-u the Shoemaker has it," said
the Pink Bear.
"Who is Ugu the Shoemaker?" demanded the King, again turning the
crank.
"A magician who lives on a mountain in a wickerwork castle," was the
reply.
"Where is the mountain?" was the next question.
"Nineteen miles and three furlongs from Bear Center to the northeast."
"And is the dishpan still at the castle of Ugu the Shoemaker?" asked
the King.
"It is."
The King turned to Cayke.
"You may rely on this information," said he. "The Pink
Bear can tell us anything we wish to know, and his
words are always words of truth."
"Is he alive?" asked the Frogman, much interested in the Pink Bear.
"Something animates him when you turn his crank," replied the King.
"I do not know if it is life or what it is or how it happens that the
Little Pink Bear can answer correctly every question put to him. We
discovered his talent a long time ago, and whenever we wish to know
anything--which is not very often--we ask the Pink Bear. There is no
doubt whatever, madam, that Ugu the Magician has your dishpan, and if
you dare to go to him, you may be able to recover it. But of that I
am not certain."
"Can't the Pink Bear tell?" asked Cayke anxiously.
"No, for that is in the future. He can tell anything that HAS
happened, but nothing that is going to happen. Don't ask me why, for
I don't know."
"Well," said the Cookie Cook after a little thought, "I mean to go to
this magician, anyhow, and tell him I want my dishpan. I wish I knew
what Ugu the Shoemaker is like."
"Then I'll show him to you," promised the King. "But do not be
frightened. It won't be Ugu, remember, but only his image." With
this, he waved his metal wand, and in the circle suddenly appeared a
thin little man, very old and skinny, who was seated on a wicker stool
before a wicker table. On the table lay a Great Book with gold
clasps. The Book was open, and the man was reading in it. He wore
great spectacles which were fastened before his eyes by means of a
ribbon that passed around his head and was tied in a bow at the neck.
His hair was very thin and white; his skin, which clung fast to his
bones, was brown and seared with furrows; he had a big, fat nose and
little eyes set close together.
On no account was Ugu the Shoemaker a pleasant person to gaze at. As
his image appeared before the, all were silent and intent until
Corporal Waddle, the Brown Bear, became nervous and pulled the trigger
of his gun. Instantly, the cork flew out of the tin barrel with a
loud "pop!" that made them all jump. And at this sound, the image of
the magician vanished. "So THAT'S the thief, is it?" said Cayke in an
angry voice. "I should think he'd be ashamed of himself for stealing
a poor woman's diamond dishpan! But I mean to face him in his wicker
castle and force him to return my property."
"To me," said the Bear King reflectively, "he looked like a dangerous
person. I hope he won't be so unkind as to argue the matter with
you."
The Frogman was much disturbed by the vision of Ugu the Shoemaker, and
Cayke's determination to go to the magician filled her companion with
misgivings. But he would not break his pledged word to assist the
Cookie Cook, and after breathing a deep sigh of resignation, he asked
the King, "Will Your Majesty lend us this Pink Bear who answers
questions that we may take him with us on our journey? He would be
very useful to us, and we will promise to bring him safely back to
you."
The King did not reply at once. He seemed to be thinking.
"PLEASE let us take the Pink Bear," begged Cayke. "I'm sure he would
be a great help to us."
"The Pink Bear," said the King, "is the best bit of magic I possess,
and there is not another like him in the world. I do not care to let
him out of my sight, nor do I wish to disappoint you; so I believe I
will make the journey in your company and carry my Pink Bear with me.
He can walk when you wind the other side of him, but so slowly and
awkwardly that he would delay you. But if I go along, I can carry him
in my arms, so I will join your party. Whenever you are ready to
start, let me know."
"But Your Majesty!" exclaimed Corporal Waddle in protest, "I hope you
do not intend to let these prisoners escape without punishment."
"Of what crime do you accuse them?" inquired the King.
"Why, they trespassed on your domain, for one thing," said the Brown
Bear.
"We didn't know it was private property, Your Majesty," said the
Cookie Cook. "And they asked if any of us had stolen the dishpan!"
continued Corporal Waddle indignantly. "That is the same thing as calling us
thieves and robbers and bandits and brigands, is it not?"
"Every person has the right to ask questions," said the Frogman.
"But the Corporal is quite correct," declared the Lavender Bear. "I
condemn you both to death, the execution to take place ten years from
this hour."
"But we belong in the Land of Oz, where no one ever dies," Cayke
reminded him.
"Very true," said the King. "I condemn you to death merely as a
matter of form. It sounds quite terrible, and in ten years we shall
have forgotten all about it. Are you ready to start for the wicker
castle of Ugu the Shoemaker?"
"Quite ready, Your Majesty."
"But who will rule in your place while you are gone?" asked a big
Yellow Bear.
"I myself will rule while I am gone," was the reply.
"A King isn't required to stay at home forever, and if he takes a notion
to travel, whose business is it but his own? All I ask is that you bears
behave yourselves while I am away. If any of you is naughty, I'll send him
to some girl or boy in America to play with."
This dreadful threat made all the toy bears look solemn. They assured
the King in a chorus of growls that they would be good. Then the big
Lavender Bear picked up the little Pink Bear, and after tucking it
carefully under one arm, he said, "Goodbye till I come back!" and
waddled along the path that led through the forest. The Frogman and
Cayke the Cookie Cook also said goodbye to the bears and then followed
after the King, much to the regret of the little Brown Bear, who
pulled the trigger of his gun and popped the cork as a parting salute.
CHAPTER 17
THE MEETING
While the Frogman and his party were advancing from the west, Dorothy
and her party were advancing from the east, and so it happened that on
the following night they all camped at a little hill that was only a
few miles from the wicker castle of Ugu the Shoemaker.
But the two parties did not see one another that night, for one
camped on one side of the hill while the other camped on the opposite
side. But the next morning, the Frogman thought he would climb the
hill and see what was on top of it, and at the same time Scraps, the
Patchwork Girl, also decided to climb the hill to find if the wicker
castle was visible from its top. So she stuck her head over an edge just as the
Frogman's head appeared over another edge, and both, being surprised,
kept still while they took a good look at one another.
Scraps recovered from her astonishment first, and bounding upward, she
turned a somersault and landed sitting down and facing the big
Frogman, who slowly advanced and sat opposite her. "Well met,
Stranger!" cried the Patchwork Girl with a whoop of laughter. "You
are quite the funniest individual I have seen in all my travels."
"Do you suppose I can be any funnier than you?" asked the Frogman,
gazing at her in wonder.
"I'm not funny to myself, you know," returned Scraps. "I wish I were.
And perhaps you are so used to your own absurd shape that you do not
laugh whenever you see your reflection in a pool or in a mirror."
"No," said the Frogman gravely, "I do not. I used to be proud of my
great size and vain of my culture and education, but since I bathed in
the Truth Pond, I sometimes think it is not right that I should be
different from all other frogs."
"Right or wrong," said the Patchwork Girl, "to be different is to be
distinguished. Now in my case, I'm just like all other Patchwork
Girls because I'm the only one there is. But tell me, where did you
come from?"
"The Yip Country," said he.
"Is that in the Land of Oz?"
"Of course," replied the Frogman.
"And do you know that your Ruler, Ozma of Oz, has been stolen?"
"I was not aware that I had a Ruler, so of course I couldn't know that
she was stolen."
"Well, you have. All the people of Oz," explained Scraps, "are ruled
by Ozma, whether they know it or not. And she has been stolen.
Aren't you angry? Aren't you indignant? Your Ruler, whom you didn't
know you had, has positively been stolen!"
"That is queer," remarked the Frogman thoughtfully.
"Stealing is a thing practically unknown in Oz, yet this Ozma has
been taken, and a friend of mine has also had her dishpan stolen.
With her I have traveled all the way from the Yip Country in order to
recover it."
"I don't see any connection between a Royal Ruler of Oz and a
dishpan!" declared Scraps.
"They've both been stolen, haven't they?"
"True. But why can't your friend wash her dishes in another dishpan?"
asked Scraps.
"Why can't you use another Royal Ruler? I suppose you prefer the one
who is lost, and my friend wants her own dishpan, which is made of
gold and studded with diamonds and has magic powers."
"Magic, eh?" exclaimed Scraps. "THERE is a link that connects the two
steals, anyhow, for it seems that all the magic in the Land of Oz was
stolen at the same time, whether it was in the Emerald City of in
Glinda's castle or in the Yip Country. Seems mighty strange and
mysterious, doesn't it?"
"It used to seem that way to me," admitted the Frogman, "but we have
now discovered who took our dishpan. It was Ugu the Shoemaker."
"Ugu? Good gracious! That's the same magician we think has stolen
Ozma. We are now on our way to the castle of this Shoemaker."
"So are we," said the Frogman.
"Then follow me, quick! And let me introduce you to Dorothy and the
other girls and to the Wizard of Oz and all the rest of us."
She sprang up and seized his coatsleeve, dragging him off the hilltop
and down the other side from that whence he had come. And at the foot
of the hill, the Frogman was astonished to find the three girls and
the Wizard and Button-Bright, who were surrounded by a wooden
Sawhorse, a lean Mule, a square Woozy, and a Cowardly Lion. A little
black dog ran up and smelled at the Frogman, but couldn't growl at
him.
"I've discovered another party that has been robbed," shouted Scraps
as she joined them. "This is their leader, and they're all going to
Ugu's castle to fight the wicked Shoemaker!"
They regarded the Frogman with much curiosity and interest, and
finding all eyes fixed upon him, the newcomer arranged his necktie and
smoothed his beautiful vest and swung his gold-headed cane like a
regular dandy. The big spectacles over his eyes quite altered his
froglike countenance and gave him a learned and impressive look. Used
as she was to seeing strange creatures in the Land of Oz, Dorothy was
amazed at discovering the Frogman. So were all her companions.
Toto wanted to growl at him, but couldn't, and he didn't dare bark. The
Sawhorse snorted rather contemptuously, but the Lion whispered to the
wooden steed, "Bear with this strange creature, my friend, and
remember he is no more extraordinary than you are.
Indeed, it is more natural for a frog to be big than for a Sawhorse to be alive."
On being questioned, the Frogman told them the whole story of the loss
of Cayke's highly prized dishpan and their adventures in search of it.
When he came to tell of the Lavender Bear King and of the Little Pink
Bear who could tell anything you wanted to know, his hearers became
eager to see such interesting animals. "It will be best," said the
Wizard, "to unite our two parties and share our fortunes together, for
we are all bound on the same errand, and as one band we may more
easily defy this shoemaker magician than if separate.
Let us be allies."
"I will ask my friends about that," replied the Frogman, and he
climbed over the hill to find Cayke and the toy bears. The Patchwork
Girl accompanied him, and when they came upon the Cookie Cook and the
Lavender Bear and the Pink Bear, it was hard to tell which of the lot
was the most surprised.
"Mercy me!" cried Cayke, addressing the Patchwork Girl. "However did
you come alive?"
Scraps stared at the bears.
"Mercy me!" she echoed, "You are stuffed,
as I am, with cotton, and you appear to be living. That makes me feel
ashamed, for I have prided myself on being the only live
cotton-stuffed person in Oz."
"Perhaps you are," returned the Lavender Bear, "for I am stuffed with
extra-quality curled hair, and so is the Little Pink Bear."
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