The Scarecrow of Oz

The birds considered this gravely. Living in a magic country, they had no doubt but that the strange one-legged man could do what he said. After a little, one of them asked:

“If you make us big, would we stay big always?”

“I think so,” replied Cap’n Bill.

They chattered a while among themselves and then the bird that had first spoken said: “Til go, for one.”

“So will I,” said another; and after a pause a third said: “I’ll go, too.”

Perhaps more would have volunteered, for it seemed that for some reason they all longed to be bigger than they were; but three were enough for Cap’n Bill’s purpose and so he promptly released all the others, who immediately flew away.

The three that remained were cousins, and all were of the same brilliant plumage and in size about as large as eagles. When Trot questioned them she found they were quite young, having only abandoned their nests a few weeks before. They were strong young birds, with clear, brave eyes, and the little girl decided they were the most beautiful of all the feathered creatures she had ever seen.

Cap’n Bill now took from his pocket the wooden box with the sliding cover and removed the three purple berries, which were still in good condition.

“Eat these,” he said, and gave one to each of the birds. They obeyed, finding the fruit very pleasant to taste. In a few seconds they began to grow in size and grew so fast that Trot feared they would never stop. But they finally did stop growing, and then they were much larger than the Ork, and nearly the size of full-grown ostriches.

Cap’n Bill was much pleased by this result.

“You can carry us now, all right,” said he.

The birds strutted around with pride, highly pleased with their immense size.

“I don’t see, though,” said Trot doubtfully, “how we’re going to ride on their backs without falling off.”

“We’re not going to ride on their backs,” answered Cap’n Bill. “I’m going to make swings for us to ride in.”

He then asked the Bumpy Man for some rope, but the man had no rope. He had, however, an old suit of gray clothes which he gladly presented to Cap’n Bill, who cut the cloth into strips and twisted it so that it was almost as strong as rope. With this material he attached to each bird a swing that dangled below its feet, and Button-Bright made a trial flight in one of them to prove that it was safe and comfortable. When all this had been arranged one of the birds asked:

“Where do you wish us to take you?”

“Why, just follow the Ork,” said Cap’n Bill. “He will be our leader, and wherever the Ork flies you are to fly, and wherever the Ork lands you are to land. Is that satisfactory?”

The birds declared it was quite satisfactory, so Cap’n Bill took counsel with the Ork.

“On our way here,” said that peculiar creature, “I noticed a broad, sandy desert at the left of me, on which was no living thing.”

“Then we’d better keep away from it,” replied the sailor.

“Not so,” insisted the Ork. "I have found, on my travels, that the most pleasant countries often lie in the midst of deserts; so I think it would be wise for us to fly over this desert and discover what lies beyond it. For in the direction we came from lies the ocean, as we well know, and beyond here is this strange Land of Mo, which we do not care to explore. On one side, as we can see from this mountain, is a broad expanse of plain, and on the other the desert. For my part, I vote for the desert."

“What do you say, Trot?” inquired Cap’n Bill.

“It’s all the same to me,” she replied.

No one thought of asking Button-Bright’s opinion, so it was decided to fly over the desert. They bade good-bye to the Bumpy Man and thanked him for his kindness and hospitality. Then they seated themselves in the swings – one for each bird – and told the Ork to start away and they would follow.

The whirl of the Ork’s tail astonished the birds at first, but after he had gone a short distance they rose in the air, carrying their passengers easily, and flew with strong, regular strokes of their great wings in the wake of their leader.

CHAPTER 9

The Kingdom of Jinxland

Trot rode with more comfort than she had expected, although the swing swayed so much that she had to hold on tight with both hands. Cap’n Bill’s bird followed the Ork, and Trot came next, with Button-Bright trailing behind her. It was quite an imposing procession, but unfortunately there was no one to see it, for the Ork had headed straight for the great sandy desert and in a few minutes after starting they were flying high over the broad waste, where no living thing could exist.

The little girl thought this would be a bad place for the birds to lose strength, or for the cloth ropes to give way; but although she could not help feeling a trifle nervous and fidgety she had confidence in the huge and brilliantly plumaged bird that bore her, as well as in Cap’n Bill’s knowledge of how to twist and fasten a rope so it would hold.

That was a remarkably big desert. There was nothing to relieve the monotony of view and every minute seemed an hour and every hour a day. Disagreeable fumes and gases rose from the sands, which would have been deadly to the travelers had they not been so high in the air. As it was, Trot was beginning to feel sick, when a breath of fresher air filled her nostrils and on looking ahead she saw a great cloud of pink-tinted mist. Even while she wondered what it could be, the Ork plunged boldly into the mist and the other birds followed. She could see nothing for a time, nor could the bird which carried her see where the Ork had gone, but it kept flying as sturdily as ever and in a few moments the mist was passed and the girl saw a most beautiful landscape spread out below her, extending as far as her eye could reach.

She saw bits of forest, verdure clothed hills, fields of waving grain, fountains, rivers and lakes; and throughout the scene were scattered groups of pretty houses and a few grand castles and palaces.

Over all this delightful landscape – which from Trot’s high perch seemed like a magnificent painted picture – was a rosy glow such as we sometimes see in the west at sunset. In this case, however, it was not in the west only, but everywhere.

No wonder the Ork paused to circle slowly over this lovely country. The other birds followed his action, all eyeing the place with equal delight. Then, as with one accord, the four formed a group and slowly sailed downward. This brought them to that part of the newly-discovered land which bordered on the desert’s edge; but it was just as pretty here as anywhere, so the Ork and the birds alighted and the three passengers at once got out of their swings.

“Oh, Cap’n Bill, isn’t this fine an’ dandy?” exclaimed Trot rapturously. “How lucky we were to discover this beautiful country!”

“The country seems rather high class, I’ll admit, Trot,” replied the old sailor-man, looking around him, “but we don’t know, as yet, what its people are like.”

“No one could live in such a country without being happy and good – I’m sure of that,” she said earnestly. “Don’t you think so, Button-Bright?”

“I’m not thinking, just now,” answered the little boy. "It tires me to think, and I never seem to gain anything by it. When we see the people who live here we will know what they are like, and no ’mount of thinking will make them any different."

“That’s true enough,” said the Ork. “But now I want to make a proposal. While you are getting acquainted with this new country, which looks as if it contains everything to make one happy, I would like to fly along – all by myself – and see if I can find my home on the other side of the great desert. If I do, I will stay there, of course. But if I fail to find Orkland I will return to you in a week, to see if I can do anything more to assist you.”

They were sorry to lose their queer companion, but could offer no objection to the plan; so the Ork bade them good-bye and rising swiftly in the air, he flew over the country and was soon lost to view in the distance.

The three birds which had carried our friends now begged permission to return by the way they had come, to their own homes, saying they were anxious to show their families how big they had become. So Cap’n Bill and Trot and Button-Bright all thanked them gratefully for their assistance and soon the birds began their long flight toward the Land of Mo.

Being now left to themselves in this strange land, the three comrades selected a pretty pathway and began walking along it. They believed this path would lead them to a splendid castle which they espied in the distance, the turrets of which towered far above the tops of the trees which surrounded it. It did not seem very far away, so they sauntered on slowly, admiring the beautiful ferns and flowers that lined the pathway and listening to the singing of the birds and the soft chirping of the grasshoppers.

Presently the path wound over a little hill. In a valley that lay beyond the hill was a tiny cottage surrounded by flower beds and fruit trees. On the shady porch of the cottage they saw, as they approached, a pleasant faced woman sitting amidst a group of children, to whom she was telling stories. The children quickly discovered the strangers and ran toward them with exclamations of astonishment, so that Trot and her friends became the center of a curious group, all chattering excitedly. Cap’n Bill’s wooden leg seemed to arouse the wonder of the children, as they could not understand why he had not two meat legs. This attention seemed to please the old sailor, who patted the heads of the children kindly and then, raising his hat to the woman, he inquired:

“Can you tell us, madam, just what country this is?”

She stared hard at all three of the strangers as she replied briefly: “Jinxland.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Cap’n Bill, with a puzzled look. “And where is Jinxland, please?”

“In the Quadling Country,” said she.

“What!” cried Trot, in sudden excitement. “Do you mean to say this is the Quadling Country of the Land of Oz?”

“To be sure I do,” the woman answered. “Every bit of land that is surrounded by the great desert is the Land of Oz, as you ought to know as well as I do; but I’m sorry to say that Jinxland is separated from the rest of the Quadling Country by that row of high mountains you see yonder, which have such steep sides that no one can cross them. So we live here all by ourselves, and are ruled by our own King, instead of by Ozma of Oz.”

“I’ve been to the Land of Oz before,” said Button-Bright, “but I’ve never been here.”

"Did you ever hear of Jinxland before?’ asked Trot.

“No,” said Button-Bright.

“It is on the Map of Oz, though,” asserted the woman, “and it’s a fine country, I assure you. If only,” she added, and then paused to look around her with a frightened expression. “If only – ” here she stopped again, as if not daring to go on with her speech.

“If only what, ma’am?” asked Cap’n Bill.

The woman sent the children into the house. Then she came closer to the strangers and whispered: “If only we had a different King, we would be very happy and contented.”

“What’s the matter with your King?” asked Trot, curiously. But the woman seemed frightened to have said so much. She retreated to her porch, merely saying:

“The King punishes severely any treason on the part of his subjects.”

“What’s treason?” asked Button-Bright.

“In this case,” replied Cap’n Bill, “treason seems to consist of knockin’ the King; but I guess we know his disposition now as well as if the lady had said more.”

“I wonder,” said Trot, going up to the woman, “if you could spare us something to eat. We haven’t had anything but popcorn and lemonade for a long time.”

“Bless your heart! Of course I can spare you some food,” the woman answered, and entering her cottage she soon returned with a tray loaded with sandwiches, cakes and cheese. One of the children drew a bucket of clear, cold water from a spring and the three wanderers ate heartily and enjoyed the good things immensely.

When Button-Bright could eat no more he filled the pockets of his jacket with cakes and cheese, and not even the children objected to this. Indeed they all seemed pleased to see the strangers eat, so Cap’n Bill decided that no matter what the King of Jinxland was like, the people would prove friendly and hospitable.

“Whose castle is that, yonder, ma’am?” he asked, waving his hand toward the towers that rose above the trees.

“It belongs to his Majesty, King Krewl,” she said.

“Oh, indeed; and does he live there?”

“When he is not out hunting with his fierce courtiers and war captains,” she replied.

“Is he hunting now?” Trot inquired.

“I do not know, my dear. The less we know about the King’s actions the safer we are.”

It was evident the woman did not like to talk about King Krewl and so, having finished their meal, they said good-bye and continued along the pathway.

“Don’t you think we’d better keep away from that King’s castle, Cap’n?” asked Trot.

“Well,” said he, “King Krewl would find out, sooner or later, that we are in his country, so we may as well face the music now. Perhaps he isn’t quite so bad as that woman thinks he is. Kings aren’t always popular with their people, you know, even if they do the best they know how.”

“Ozma is pop’lar,” said Button-Bright.

“Ozma is diff’rent from any other Ruler, from all I’ve heard,” remarked Trot musingly, as she walked beside the boy. “And, after all, we are really in the Land of Oz, where Ozma rules ev’ry King and ev’rybody else. I never heard of anybody getting hurt in her dominions, did you, Button-Bright?”

“Not when she knows about it,” he replied. “But those birds landed us in just the wrong place, seems to me. They might have carried us right on, over that row of mountains, to the Em’rald City.”

“True enough,” said Cap’n Bill; “but they didn’t, an’ so we must make the best of Jinxland. Let’s try not to be afraid.”

“Oh, I’m not very scared,” said Button-Bright, pausing to look at a pink rabbit that popped its head out of a hole in the field near by.

“Nor am I,” added Trot. “Really, Cap’n, I’m so glad to be anywhere at all in the wonderful fairyland of Oz that I think I’m the luckiest girl in all the world. Dorothy lives in the Em’rald City, you know, and so does the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and Tik-Tok and the Shaggy Man – and all the rest of ’em that we’ve heard so much about not to mention Ozma, who must be the sweetest and loveliest girl in all the world!”

“Take your time, Trot,” advised Button-Bright. “You don’t have to say it all in one breath, you know. And you haven’t mentioned half of the curious people in the Em’rald City.”

“That ’ere Em’rald City,” said Cap’n Bill impressively, “happens to be on the other side o’ those mountains, that we’re told no one is able to cross. I don’t want to discourage of you, Trot, but we’re a’most as much separated from your Ozma an’ Dorothy as we were when we lived in Californy.”

There was so much truth in this statement that they all walked on in silence for some time. Finally they reached the grove of stately trees that bordered the grounds of the King’s castle. They had gone half-way through it when the sound of sobbing, as of someone in bitter distress, reached their ears and caused them to halt abruptly.

CHAPTER 10

Pon, the Gardener’s Boy

It was Button-Bright who first discovered, lying on his face beneath a broad spreading tree near the pathway, a young man whose body shook with the force of his sobs. He was dressed in a long brown smock and had sandals on his feet, betokening one in humble life. His head was bare and showed a shock of brown, curly hair. Button-Bright looked down on the young man and said:

“Who cares, anyhow?”

“I do!” cried the young man, interrupting his sobs to roll over, face upward, that he might see who had spoken. “I care, for my heart is broken!”

“Can’t you get another one?” asked the little boy.

“I don’t want another!” wailed the young man.

By this time Trot and Cap’n Bill arrived at the spot and the girl leaned over and said in a sympathetic voice:

“Tell us your troubles and perhaps we may help you.”

The youth sat up, then, and bowed politely. Afterward he got upon his feet, but still kept wringing his hands as he tried to choke down his sobs. Trot thought he was very brave to control such awful agony so well.

“My name is Pon,” he began. “I’m the gardener’s boy.”

“Then the gardener of the King is your father, I suppose,” said Trot.

“Not my father, but my master,” was the reply.

“I do the work and the gardener gives the orders. And it was not my fault, in the least, that the Princess Gloria fell in love with me.”

“Did she, really?” asked the little girl.

“I don’t see why,” remarked Button-Bright, staring at the youth.

“And who may the Princess Gloria be?” inquired Cap’n Bill.

“She is the niece of King Krewl, who is her guardian. The Princess lives in the castle and is the loveliest and sweetest maiden in all Jinxland. She is fond of flowers and used to walk in the gardens with her attendants. At such times, if I was working at my tasks, I used to cast down my eyes as Gloria passed me; but one day I glanced up and found her gazing at me with a very tender look in her eyes. The next day she dismissed her attendants and, coming to my side, began to talk with me. She said I had touched her heart as no other young man had ever done. I kissed her hand. Just then the King came around a bend in the walk. He struck me with his fist and kicked me with his foot. Then he seized the arm of the Princess and rudely dragged her into the castle.”

“Wasn’t he awful!” gasped Trot indignantly.

“He is a very abrupt King,” said Pon, "so it was the least I could expect. Up to that time I had not thought of loving Princess Gloria, but realizing it would be impolite not to return her love, I did so. We met at evening, now and then, and she told me the King wanted her to marry a rich courtier named Googly-Goo, who is old enough to be Gloria’s father. She has refused Googly-Goo thirty-nine times, but he still persists and has brought many rich presents to bribe the King. On that account King Krewl has commanded his niece to marry the old man, but the Princess has assured me, time and again, that she will wed only me. This morning we happened to meet in the grape arbor and as I was respectfully saluting the cheek of the Princess, two of the King’s guards seized me and beat me terribly before the very eyes of Gloria, whom the King himself held back so she could not interfere."

“Why, this King must be a monster!” cried Trot.

“He is far worse than that,” said Pon, mournfully.

“But, see here,” interrupted Cap’n Bill, who had listened carefully to Pon. “This King may not be so much to blame, after all. Kings are proud folks, because they’re so high an’ mighty, an’ it isn’t reasonable for a royal Princess to marry a common gardener’s boy.”

“It isn’t right,” declared Button-Bright. “A Princess should marry a Prince.”

“I’m not a common gardener’s boy,” protested Pon. “If I had my rights I would be the King instead of Krewl. As it is, I’m a Prince, and as royal as any man in Jinxland.”

“How does that come?” asked Cap’n Bill.

“My father used to be the King and Krewl was his Prime Minister. But one day while out hunting, King Phearse – that was my father’s name – had a quarrel with Krewl and tapped him gently on the nose with the knuckles of his closed hand. This so provoked the wicked Krewl that he tripped my father backward, so that he fell into a deep pond. At once Krewl threw in a mass of heavy stones, which so weighted down my poor father that his body could not rise again to the surface. It is impossible to kill anyone in this land, as perhaps you know, but when my father was pressed down into the mud at the bottom of the deep pool and the stones held him so he could never escape, he was of no more use to himself or the world than if he had died. Knowing this, Krewl proclaimed himself King, taking possession of the royal castle and driving all my father’s people out. I was a small boy, then, but when I grew up I became a gardener. I have served King Krewl without his knowing that I am the son of the same King Phearse whom he so cruelly made away with.”

“My, but that’s a terr’bly exciting story!” said Trot, drawing a long breath. “But tell us, Pon, who was Gloria’s father?”

“Oh, he was the King before my father,” replied Pon. “Father was Prime Minister for King Kynd, who was Gloria’s father. She was only a baby when King Kynd fell into the Great Gulf that lies just this side of the mountains – the same mountains that separate Jinxland from the rest of the Land of Oz. It is said the Great Gulf has no bottom; but, however that may be, King Kynd has never been seen again and my father became King in his place.”

“Seems to me,” said Trot, “that if Gloria had her rights she would be Queen of Jinxland.”

“Well, her father was a King,” admitted Pon, “and so was my father; so we are of equal rank, although she’s a great lady and I’m a humble gardener’s boy. I can’t see why we should not marry if we want to – except that King Krewl won’t let us.”

“It’s a sort of mixed-up mess, taken altogether,” remarked Cap’n Bill. “But we are on our way to visit King Krewl, and if we get a chance, young man, we’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Do, please!” begged Pon.

"Was it the flogging you got that broke your heart?’ inquired Button-Bright.

“Why, it helped to break it, of course,” said Pon.

“I’d get it fixed up, if I were you,” advised the boy, tossing a pebble at a chipmunk in a tree.

“You ought to give Gloria just as good a heart as she gives you.”

“That’s common sense,” agreed Cap’n Bill. So they left the gardener’s boy standing beside the path, and resumed their journey toward the castle.

CHAPTER 11

The Wicked King and Googly-Goo

When our friends approached the great doorway of the castle they found it guarded by several soldiers dressed in splendid uniforms. They were armed with swords and lances. Cap’n Bill walked straight up to them and asked:

“Does the King happen to be at home?”

“His Magnificent and Glorious Majesty, King Krewl, is at present inhabiting his Royal Castle,” was the stiff reply.

“Then I guess we’ll go in an’ say how-d’ye-do,” continued Cap’n Bill, attempting to enter the doorway. But a soldier barred his way with a lance.

"Who are you, what are your names, and where do you come from? 7 demanded the soldier.

“You wouldn’t know if we told you,” returned the sailor, “seein’ as we’re strangers in a strange land.”

“Oh, if you are strangers you will be permitted to enter,” said the soldier, lowering his lance. “His Majesty is very fond of strangers.”

“Do many strangers come here?” asked Trot.

“You are the first that ever came to our country,” said the man. “But his Majesty has often said that if strangers ever arrived in Jinxland he would see that they had a very exciting time.”

Cap’n Bill scratched his chin thoughtfully. He wasn’t very favorably impressed by this last remark. But he decided that as there was no way of escape from Jinxland it would be wise to confront – the King boldly and try to win his favor. So they entered the castle, escorted by one of the soldiers.

It was certainly a fine castle, with many large rooms, all beautifully furnished. The passages were winding and handsomely decorated, and after following several of these the soldier led them into an open court that occupied the very center of the huge building. It was surrounded on every side by high turreted walls, and contained beds of flowers, fountains and walks of many colored marbles which were matched together in quaint designs. In an open space near the middle of the court they saw a group of courtiers and their ladies, who surrounded a lean man who wore upon his head a jeweled crown. His face was hard and sullen and through the slits of his half-closed eyelids the eyes glowed like coals of fire. He was dressed in brilliant satins and velvets and was seated in a golden throne-chair.

This personage was King Krewl, and as soon as Cap’n Bill saw him the old sailor knew at once that he was not going to like the King of Jinxland.

“Hello! who’s here?” said his Majesty, with a deep scowl.

“Strangers, Sire,” answered the soldier, bowing so low that his forehead touched the marble tiles.