“Is there such a road?” asked the Scarecrow.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I s’pose we can go back the way we came, to Jack Pumpkinhead’s house, and then turn into the Winkie Country; but that seems like running ’round a haystack, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” said the Scarecrow. “What is the next thing Ojo must get?”
“A yellow butterfly,” answered the boy.
“That means the Winkie Country, all right, for it’s the yellow country of Oz,” remarked Dorothy. “I think, Scarecrow, we ought to take him to the Tin Woodman, for he’s the Emp’ror of the Winkies and will help us to find what Ojo wants.”
“Of course,” replied the Scarecrow, brightening at the suggestion. “The Tin Woodman will do anything we ask him, for he’s one of my dearest friends. I believe we can take a crosscut into his country and so get to his castle a day sooner than if we travel back the way we came.”
“I think so, too,” said the girl; “and that means we must keep to the left.”
They were obliged to go down the mountain before they found any path that led in the direction they wanted to go, but among the tumbled rocks at the foot of the mountain was a faint trail which they decided to follow. Two or three hours walk along this trail brought them to a clear, level country, where there were a few farms and some scattered houses. But they knew they were still in the Country of the Quadlings, because everything had a bright red color. Not that the trees and grasses were red, but the fences and houses were painted that color and all the wild-flowers that bloomed by the wayside had red blossoms. This part of the Quadling Country seemed peaceful and prosperous, if rather lonely, and the road was more distinct and easier to follow.
But just as they were congratulating themselves upon the progress they had made they came upon a broad river which swept along between high banks, and here the road ended and there was no bridge of any sort to allow them to cross.
“This is queer,” mused Dorothy, looking at the water reflectively. “Why should there be any road, if the river stops everyone walking along it?”
“Wow!” said Toto, gazing earnestly into her face.
“That’s the best answer you’ll get,” declared the Scarecrow, with his comical smile, “for no one knows any more than Toto about this road.”
Said Scraps:
“Ev’ry time I see a river,
I have chills that make me shiver,
For I never can forget
All the water’s very wet.
If my patches get a soak
It will be a sorry joke;
So to swim I’ll never try
Till I find the water dry.”
“Try to control yourself, Scraps,” said Ojo; “you’re getting crazy again. No one intends to swim that river.”
“No,” decided Dorothy, “we couldn’t swim it if we tried. It’s too big a river, and the water moves awful fast.”
“There ought to be a ferryman with a boat,” said the Scarecrow; “but I don’t see any.”
“Couldn’t we make a raft?” suggested Ojo.
“There’s nothing to make one of,” answered Dorothy.
“Wow!” said Toto again, and Dorothy saw he was looking along the bank of the river.
“Why, he sees a house over there!” cried the little girl. “I wonder we didn’t notice it ourselves. Let’s go and ask the people how to get ’cross the river.”
A quarter of a mile along the bank stood a small, round house, painted bright red, and as it was on their side of the river they hurried toward it. A chubby little man, dressed all in red, came out to greet them, and with him were two children, also in red costumes. The man’s eyes were big and staring as he examined the Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl, and the children shyly hid behind him and peeked timidly at Toto.
“Do you live here, my good man?” asked the Scarecrow.
“I think I do, Most Mighty Magician,” replied the Quadling, bowing low; “but whether I’m awake or dreaming I can’t be positive, so I’m not sure where I live. If you’ll kindly pinch me I’ll find out all about it!”
“You’re awake,” said Dorothy, “and this is no magician, but just the Scarecrow.”
“But he’s alive,” protested the man, “and he oughtn’t to be, you know. And that other dreadful person—the girl who is all patches—seems to be alive, too.”
“Very much so,” declared Scraps, making a face at him. “But that isn’t your affair, you know.”
“I’ve a right to be surprised, haven’t I?” asked the man meekly.
“I’m not sure; but anyhow you’ve no right to say I’m dreadful. The Scarecrow, who is a gentleman of great wisdom, thinks I’m beautiful,” retorted Scraps.
“Never mind all that,” said Dorothy. “Tell us, good Quadling, how we can get across the river.”
“I don’t know,” replied the Quadling.
“Don’t you ever cross it?” asked the girl.
“Never.”
“Don’t travelers cross it?”
“Not to my knowledge,” said he.
They were much surprised to hear this, and the man added: “It’s a pretty big river, and the current is strong. I know a man who lives on the opposite bank, for I’ve seen him there a good many years; but we’ve never spoken because neither of us has ever crossed over.”
“That’s queer,” said the Scarecrow. “Don’t you own a boat?”
The man shook his head.
“Nor a raft?”
“Where does this river go to?” asked Dorothy.
“That way,” answered the man, pointing with one hand, “it goes into the Country of the Winkies, which is ruled by the Tin Emperor, who must be a mighty magician because he’s all made of tin, and yet he’s alive. And that way,” pointing with the other hand, “the river runs between two mountains where dangerous people dwell.”
The Scarecrow looked at the water before them.
“The current flows toward the Winkie Country,” said he; “and so, if we had a boat, or a raft, the river would float us there more quickly and more easily than we could walk.”
“That is true,” agreed Dorothy; and then they all looked thoughtful and wondered what could be done.
“Why can’t the man make us a raft?” asked Ojo.
“Will you?” inquired Dorothy, turning to the Quadling.
The chubby man shook his head.
“I’m too lazy,” he said. “My wife says I’m the laziest man in all Oz, and she is a truthful woman. I hate work of any kind, and making a raft is hard work.”
“I’ll give you my em’rald ring,” promised the girl.
“No; I don’t care for emeralds. If it were a ruby, which is the color I like best, I might work a little while.”
“I’ve got some Square Meal Tablets,” said the Scarecrow. “Each one is the same as a dish of soup, a fried fish, a mutton pot-pie, lobster salad, charlotte russe and lemon jelly—all made into one little tablet that you can swallow without trouble.”
“Without trouble!” exclaimed the Quadling, much interested; “then those tablets would be fine for a lazy man. It’s such hard work to chew when you eat.”
“I’ll give you six of those tablets if you’ll help us make a raft,” promised the Scarecrow. “They’re a combination of food which people who eat are very fond of. I never eat, you know, being straw; but some of my friends eat regularly. What do you say to my offer, Quadling?”
“I’ll do it,” decided the man. “I’ll help, and you can do most of the work. But my wife has gone fishing for red eels to-day, so some of you will have to mind the children.”
Scraps promised to do that, and the children were not so shy when the Patchwork Girl sat down to play with them. They grew to like Toto, too, and the little dog allowed them to pat him on his head, which gave the little ones much joy.
There were a number of fallen trees near the house and the Quadling got his axe and chopped them into logs of equal length. He took his wife’s clothesline t
o bind these logs together, so that they would form a raft, and Ojo found some strips of wood and nailed them along the tops of the logs, to render them more firm. The Scarecrow and Dorothy helped roll the logs together and carry the strips of wood, but it took so long to make the raft that evening came just as it was finished, and with evening the Quadling’s wife returned from her fishing.
The woman proved to be cross and bad-tempered, perhaps because she had only caught one red eel during all the day. When she found that her husband had used her clothesline, and the logs she had wanted for firewood, and the boards she had intended to mend the shed with, and a lot of gold nails, she became very angry. Scraps wanted to shake the woman, to make her behave, but Dorothy talked to her in a gentle tone and told the Quadling’s wife she was a Princess of Oz and a friend of Ozma and that when she got back to the Emerald City she would send them a lot of things to repay them for the raft, including a new clothes-line. This promise pleased the woman and she soon became more pleasant, saying they could stay the night at her house and begin their voyage on the river next morning.
This they did, spending a pleasant evening with the Quadling family and being entertained with such hospitality as the poor people were able to offer them. The man groaned a good deal and said he had overworked himself by chopping the logs, but the Scarecrow gave him two more tablets than he had promised, which seemed to comfort the lazy fellow.
Chapter 26
The TRICK RIVER
ext morning they pushed the raft into the water and all got aboard. The Quadling man had to hold the log craft fast while they took their places, and the flow of the river was so powerful that it nearly tore the raft from his hands. As soon as they were all seated upon the logs he let go and away it floated and the adventurers had begun their voyage toward the Winkie Country.
The little house of the Quadlings was out of sight almost before they had cried their good-byes, and the Scarecrow said in a pleased voice: “It won’t take us long to get to the Winkie Country, at this rate.”
They had floated several miles down the stream and were enjoying the ride when suddenly the raft slowed up, stopped short, and then began to float back the way it had come.
“Why, what’s wrong?” asked Dorothy, in astonishment; but they were all just as bewildered as she was and at first no one could answer the question. Soon, however, they realized the truth: that the current of the river had reversed and the water was now flowing in the opposite direction—toward the mountains.
They began to recognize the scenes they had passed, and by and by they came in sight of the little house of the Quadlings again. The man was standing on the river bank and he called to them:
“How do you do? Glad to see you again. I forgot to tell you that the river changes its direction every little while. Sometimes it flows one way, and sometimes the other.”
They had no time to answer him, for the raft was swept past the house and a long distance on the other side of it.
“We’re going just the way we don’t want to go,” said Dorothy, “and I guess the best thing we can do is to get to land before we’re carried any farther.”
But they could not get to land. They had no oars, nor even a pole to guide the raft with. The logs which bore them floated in the middle of the stream and were held fast in that position by the strong current.
So they sat still and waited and, even while they were wondering what could be done, the raft slowed down, stopped, and began drifting the other way—in the direction it had first followed. After a time they repassed the Quadling house and the man was still standing on the bank. He cried out to them:
“Good day! Glad to see you again. I expect I shall see you a good many times, as you go by, unless you happen to swim ashore.”
By that time they had left him behind and were headed once more straight toward the Winkie Country.
“This is pretty hard luck,” said Ojo in a discouraged voice. “The Trick River keeps changing, it seems, and here we must float back and forward forever, unless we manage in some way to get ashore.”
“Can you swim?” asked Dorothy.
“No; I’m Ojo the Unlucky.”
“Neither can I. Toto can swim a little, but that won’t help us to get to shore.”
“I don’t know whether I could swim, or not,” remarked Scraps; “but if I tried it I’d surely ruin my lovely patches.”
“My straw would get soggy in the water and I would sink,” said the Scarecrow.
So there seemed no way out of their dilemma and being helpless they simply sat still. Ojo, who was on the front of the raft, looked over into the water and thought he saw some large fishes swimming about. He found a loose end of the clothesline which fastened the logs together, and taking a gold nail from his pocket he bent it nearly double, to form a hook, and tied it to the end of the line. Having baited the hook with some bread which he broke from his loaf, he dropped the line into the water and almost instantly it was seized by a great fish.
They knew it was a great fish, because it pulled so hard on the line that it dragged the raft forward even faster than the current of the river had carried it. The fish was frightened, and it was a strong swimmer. As the other end of the clothesline was bound around the logs he could not get it away, and as he had greedily swallowed the gold hook at the first bite he could not get rid of that, either.
When they reached the place where the current had before changed, the fish was still swimming ahead in its wild attempt to escape. The raft slowed down, yet it did not stop, because the fish would not let it. It continued to move in the same direction it had been going. As the current reversed and rushed backward on its course it failed to drag the raft with it. Slowly, inch by inch, they floated on, and the fish tugged and tugged and kept them going.
“I hope he won’t give up,” said Ojo anxiously. “If the fish can hold out until the current changes again, we’ll be all right.”
The fish did not give up, but held the raft bravely on its course, till at last the water in the river shifted again and floated them the way they wanted to go. But now the captive fish found its strength failing. Seeking a refuge, it began to drag the raft toward the shore. As they did not wish to land in this place the boy cut the rope with his pocket-knife and set the fish free, just in time to prevent the raft from grounding.
The next time the river backed up the Scarecrow managed to seize the branch of a tree that overhung the water and they all assisted him to hold fast and prevent the raft from being carried backward. While they waited here, Ojo spied a long broken branch lying upon the bank, so he leaped ashore and got it. When he had stripped off the side shoots he believed he could use the branch as a pole, to guide the raft in case of emergency.
They clung to the tree until they found the water flowing the right way, when they let go and permitted the raft to resume its voyage. In spite of these pauses they were really making good progress toward the Winkie Country and having found a way to conquer the adverse current their spirits rose considerably. They could see little of the country through which they were passing, because of the high banks, and they met with no boats or other craft upon the surface of the river.
Once more the trick river reversed its current, but this time the Scarecrow was on guard and used the pole to push the raft toward a big rock which lay in the water. He believed the rock would prevent their floating backward with the current, and so it did. They clung to this anchorage until the water resumed its proper direction, when they allowed the raft to drift on.
Floating around a bend they saw ahead a high bank of water, extending across the entire river, and toward this they were being irresistibly carried. There being no way to arrest the progress of the raft they clung fast to the logs and let the river sweep them on. Swiftly the raft climbed the bank of water and slid down on the other side, plunging its edge deep into the water and drenching them all with spray.
As again the raft righted and drifted on, Dorothy and Ojo laughed at the ducking they had r
eceived; but Scraps was much dismayed and the Scarecrow took out his handkerchief and wiped the water off the Patchwork Girl’s patches as well as he was able to. The sun soon dried her and the colors of her patches proved good, for they did not run together nor did they fade.
After passing the wall of water the current did not change or flow backward any more but continued to sweep them steadily forward. The banks of the river grew lower, too, permitting them to see more of the country, and presently they discovered yellow buttercups and dandelions growing amongst the grass, from which evidence they knew they had reached the Winkie Country.
“Don’t you think we ought to land?” Dorothy asked the Scarecrow.
“Pretty soon,” he replied. “The Tin Woodman’s castle is in the southern part of the Winkie Country, and so it can’t be a great way from here.”
Fearing they might drift too far, Dorothy and Ojo now stood up and raised the Scarecrow in their arms, as high as they could, thus allowing him a good view of the country. For a time he saw nothing he recognized, but finally he cried:
“There it is! There it is!”
“What?” asked Dorothy.
“The Tin Woodman’s tin castle. I can see its turrets glittering in the sun. It’s quite a way off, but we’d better land as quickly as we can.”
They let him down and began to urge the raft toward the shore by means of the pole. It obeyed very well, for the current was more sluggish now, and soon they had reached the bank and landed safely.
The Winkie Country was really beautiful, and across the fields they could see afar the silvery sheen of the tin castle. With light hearts they hurried toward it, being fully rested by their long ride on the river.
By and by they began to cross an immense field of splendid yellow lilies, the delicate fragrance of which was very delightful.
“How beautiful they are!” cried Dorothy, stopping to admire the perfection of these exquisite flowers.
“Yes,” said the Scarecrow, reflectively, “but we must be careful not to crush or injure any of these lilies.”
“Why not?” asked Ojo.
Oz, The Complete Collection Page 95
