When Pon and Trot had run so far that they were confident they had made good their escape, they sat down near the edge of a forest to get their breath again, for both were panting hard from their exertions. Trot was the first to recover speech, and she said to her companion:
“My! wasn’t it terr’ble?”
“The most terrible thing I ever saw,” Pon agreed.
“And they froze Gloria’s heart; so now she can’t love you any more.”
“Well, they froze her heart, to be sure,” admitted Pon, “but I’m in hopes I can melt it with my love.”
“Where do you s’pose Gloria is?” asked the girl, after a pause.
“She left the Witch’s house just before we did. Perhaps she has gone back to the King’s castle,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure she started off in a diff’rent direction,” declared Trot. “I looked over my shoulder, as I ran, to see how close the Witches were, and I’m sure I saw Gloria walking slowly away toward the north.”
“Then let us circle around that way,” proposed Pon, “and perhaps we shall meet her.”
Trot agreed to this and they left the grove and began to circle around toward the north, thus drawing nearer and nearer to old Blinkie’s house again. The Wicked Witch did not suspect this change of direction, so when she came to the grove she passed through it and continued on.
Pon and Trot had reached a place less than half a mile from the Witch’s house when they saw Gloria walking toward them. The Princess moved with great dignity and with no show of haste whatever, holding her head high and looking neither to right nor left.
Pon rushed forward, holding out his arms as if to embrace her and calling her sweet names. But Gloria gazed upon him coldly and repelled him with a haughty gesture. At this the poor gardener’s boy sank upon his knees and hid his face in his arms, weeping bitter tears; but the Princess was not at all moved by his distress. Passing him by, she drew her skirts aside, as if unwilling they should touch him, and then she walked up the path a way and hesitated, as if uncertain where to go next.
Trot was grieved by Pon’s sobs and indignant because Gloria treated him so badly. But she remembered why.
“I guess your heart is frozen, all right,” she said to the Princess. Gloria nodded gravely, in reply, and then turned her back upon the little girl. “Can’t you like even me?” asked Trot, half pleadingly.
“No,” said Gloria.
“Your voice sounds like a refrig’rator,” sighed the little girl. “I’m awful sorry for you, ’cause you were sweet an’ nice to me before this happened. You can’t help it, of course; but it’s a dreadful thing, jus’ the same.”
“My heart is frozen to all mortal loves,” announced Gloria, calmly. “I do not love even myself.”
“That’s too bad,” said Trot, “for, if you can’t love anybody, you can’t expect anybody to love you.”
“I do!” cried Pon. “I shall always love her.”
“Well, you’re just a gardener’s boy,” replied Trot, “and I didn’t think you ’mounted to much, from the first. I can love the old Princess Gloria, with a warm heart an’ nice manners, but this one gives me the shivers.”
“It’s her icy heart, that’s all,” said Pon.
“That’s enough,” insisted Trot. “Seeing her heart isn’t big enough to skate on, I can’t see that she’s of any use to anyone. For my part, I’m goin’ to try to find Button-Bright an’ Cap’n Bill.”
“I will go with you,” decided Pon. “It is evident that Gloria no longer loves me and that her heart is frozen too stiff for me to melt it with my own love; therefore I may as well help you to find your friends.”
As Trot started off, Pon cast one more imploring look at the Princess, who returned it with a chilly stare. So he followed after the little girl.
As for the Princess, she hesitated a moment and then turned in the same direction the others had taken, but going far more slowly. Soon she heard footsteps pattering behind her, and up came Googly-Goo, a little out of breath with running.
“Stop, Gloria!” he cried. “I have come to take you back to my mansion, where we are to be married.”
She looked at him wonderingly a moment, then tossed her head disdainfully and walked on. But Googly-Goo kept beside her.
“What does this mean?” he demanded. “Haven’t you discovered that you no longer love that gardener’s boy, who stood in my way?”
“Yes; I have discovered it,” she replied. “My heart is frozen to all mortal loves. I cannot love you, or Pon, or the cruel King my uncle, or even myself. Go your way, Googly-Goo, for I will wed no one at all.”
He stopped in dismay when he heard this, but in another minute he exclaimed angrily:
“You must wed me, Princess Gloria, whether you want to or not! I paid to have your heart frozen; I also paid the King to permit our marriage. If you now refuse me it will mean that I have been robbed—robbed—robbed of my precious money and jewels!”
He almost wept with despair, but she laughed a cold, bitter laugh and passed on. Googly-Goo caught at her arm, as if to restrain her, but she whirled and dealt him a blow that sent him reeling into a ditch beside the path. Here he lay for a long time, half covered by muddy water, dazed with surprise.
Finally the old courtier arose, dripping, and climbed from the ditch. The Princess had gone; so, muttering threats of vengeance upon her, upon the King and upon Blinkie, old Googly-Goo hobbled back to his mansion to have the mud removed from his costly velvet clothes.
Chapter 15
TROT MEETS the SCARECROW
rot and Pon covered many leagues of ground, searching through forests, in fields and in many of the little villages of Jinxland, but could find no trace of either Cap’n Bill or Button-Bright. Finally they paused beside a cornfield and sat upon a stile to rest. Pon took some apples from his pocket and gave one to Trot. Then he began eating another himself, for this was their time for luncheon. When his apple was finished Pon tossed the core into the field.
“Tchuk-tchuk!” said a strange voice. “What do you mean by hitting me in the eye with an apple-core?”
Then rose up the form of the Scarecrow, who had hidden himself in the cornfield while he examined Pon and Trot and decided whether they were worthy to be helped.
“Excuse me,” said Pon. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“How did you happen to be there, anyhow?” asked Trot.
The Scarecrow came forward with awkward steps and stood beside them.
“Ah, you are the gardener’s boy,” he said to Pon. Then he turned to Trot. “And you are the little girl who came to Jinxland riding on a big bird, and who has had the misfortune to lose her friend, Cap’n Bill, and her chum, Button-Bright.”
“Why, how did you know all that?” she inquired.
“I know a lot of things,” replied the Scarecrow, winking at her comically. “My brains are the Carefully-Assorted, Double-Distilled, High-Efficiency sort that the Wizard of Oz makes. He admits, himself, that my brains are the best he ever manufactured.”
“I think I’ve heard of you,” said Trot slowly, as she looked the Scarecrow over with much interest; “but you used to live in the Land of Oz.”
“Oh, I do now,” he replied cheerfully. “I’ve just come over the mountains from the Quadling Country to see if I can be of any help to you.”
“Who, me?” asked Pon.
“No, the strangers from the big world. It seems they need looking after.”
“I’m doing that myself,” said Pon, a little ungraciously. “If you will pardon me for saying so, I don’t see how a Scarecrow with painted eyes can look after anyone.”
“If you don’t see that, you are more blind than the Scarecrow,” asserted Trot. “He’s a fairy man, Pon, and comes from the fairyland of Oz, so he can do ’most anything. I hope,” she added, turning to the Scarecrow, “you can find Cap’n Bill for me.”
“I will try, anyhow,” he promised. “But who is that old woman who is running toward
us and shaking her stick at us?”
Trot and Pon turned around and both uttered an exclamation of fear. The next instant they took to their heels and ran fast up the path. For it was old Blinkie, the Wicked Witch, who had at last traced them to this place. Her anger was so great that she was determined not to abandon the chase of Pon and Trot until she had caught and punished them. The Scarecrow understood at once that the old woman meant harm to his new friends, so as she drew near he stepped before her. His appearance was so sudden and unexpected that Blinkie ran into him and toppled him over, but she tripped on his straw body and went rolling in the path beside him.
The Scarecrow sat up and said: “I beg your pardon!” but she whacked him with her stick and knocked him flat again. Then, furious with rage, the old Witch sprang upon her victim and began pulling the straw out of his body. The poor Scarecrow was helpless to resist and in a few moments all that was left of him was an empty suit of clothes and a heap of straw beside it. Fortunately, Blinkie did not harm his head, for it rolled into a little hollow and escaped her notice. Fearing that Pon and Trot would escape her, she quickly resumed the chase and disappeared over the brow of a hill, following the direction in which she had seen them go.
Only a short time elapsed before a grey grasshopper with a wooden leg came hopping along and lit directly on the upturned face of the Scarecrow’s head.
“Pardon me, but you are resting yourself upon my nose,” remarked the Scarecrow.
“Oh! are you alive?” asked the grasshopper.
“That is a question I have never been able to decide,” said the Scarecrow’s head. “When my body is properly stuffed I have animation and can move around as well as any live person. The brains in the head you are now occupying as a throne, are of very superior quality and do a lot of very clever thinking. But whether that is being alive, or not, I cannot prove to you; for one who lives is liable to death, while I am only liable to destruction.”
“Seems to me,” said the grasshopper, rubbing his nose with his front legs, “that in your case it doesn’t matter—unless you’re destroyed already.”
“I am not; all I need is re-stuffing,” declared the Scarecrow; “and if Pon and Trot escape the Witch, and come back here, I am sure they will do me that favor.”
“Tell me! Are Trot and Pon around here?” inquired the grasshopper, its small voice trembling with excitement.
The Scarecrow did not answer at once, for both his eyes were staring straight upward at a beautiful face that was slightly bent over his head. It was, indeed, Princess Gloria, who had wandered to this spot, very much surprised when she heard the Scarecrow’s head talk and the tiny grey grasshopper answer it.
“This,” said the Scarecrow, still staring at her, “must be the Princess who loves Pon, the gardener’s boy.”
“Oh, indeed!” exclaimed the grasshopper—who of course was Cap’n Bill—as he examined the young lady curiously.
“No,” said Gloria frigidly, “I do not love Pon, or anyone else, for the Wicked Witch has frozen my heart.”
“What a shame!” cried the Scarecrow. “One so lovely should be able to love. But would you mind, my dear, stuffing that straw into my body again?”
The dainty Princess glanced at the straw and at the well-worn blue Munchkin clothes and shrank back in disdain. But she was spared from refusing the Scarecrow’s request by the appearance of Trot and Pon, who had hidden in some bushes just over the brow of the hill and waited until old Blinkie had passed them by. Their hiding place was on the same side as the Witch’s blind eye, and she rushed on in the chase of the girl and the youth without being aware that they had tricked her.
Trot was shocked at the Scarecrow’s sad condition and at once began putting the straw back into his body. Pon, at sight of Gloria, again appealed to her to take pity on him, but the frozen-hearted Princess turned coldly away and with a sigh the gardener’s boy began to assist Trot.
Neither of them at first noticed the small grasshopper, which at their appearance had skipped off the Scarecrow’s nose and was now clinging to a wisp of grass beside the path, where he was not likely to be stepped upon. Not until the Scarecrow had been neatly restuffed and set upon his feet again—when he bowed to his restorers and expressed his thanks—did the grasshopper move from his perch. Then he leaped lightly into the path and called out:
“Trot—Trot! Look at me. I’m Cap’n Bill! See what the Wicked Witch has done to me.”
The voice was small, to be sure, but it reached Trot’s ears and startled her greatly. She looked intently at the grasshopper, her eyes wide with fear at first; then she knelt down and, noticing the wooden leg, she began to weep sorrowfully.
“Oh, Cap’n Bill—dear Cap’n Bill! What a cruel thing to do!” she sobbed.
“Don’t cry, Trot,” begged the grasshopper. “It didn’t hurt any, and it doesn’t hurt now. But it’s mighty inconvenient an’ humiliatin’, to say the least.”
“I wish,” said the girl indignantly, while trying hard to restrain her tears, “that I was big ’nough an’ strong ’nough to give that horrid Witch a good beating. She ought to be turned into a toad for doing this to you, Cap’n Bill!”
“Never mind,” urged the Scarecrow, in a comforting voice, “such a transformation doesn’t last always, and as a general thing there’s some way to break the enchantment. I’m sure Glinda could do it, in a jiffy.”
“Who is Glinda?” inquired Cap’n Bill.
Then the Scarecrow told them all about Glinda, not forgetting to mention her beauty and goodness and her wonderful powers of magic. He also explained how the Royal Sorceress had sent him to Jinxland especially to help the strangers, whom she knew to be in danger because of the wiles of the cruel King and the Wicked Witch.
Chapter 16
PON SUMMONS the KING to SURRENDER
loria had drawn near to the group to listen to their talk, and it seemed to interest her in spite of her frigid manner. They knew, of course, that the poor Princess could not help being cold and reserved, so they tried not to blame her.
“I ought to have come here a little sooner,” said the Scarecrow, regretfully; “but Glinda sent me as soon as she discovered you were here and were likely to get into trouble. And now that we are all together—except Button-Bright, over whom it is useless to worry—I propose we hold a council of war, to decide what is best to be done.”
That seemed a wise thing to do, so they all sat down upon the grass, including Gloria, and the grasshopper perched upon Trot’s shoulder and allowed her to stroke him gently with her hand.
“In the first place,” began the Scarecrow, “this King Krewl is a usurper and has no right to rule this Kingdom of Jinxland.”
“That is true,” said Pon, eagerly. “My father was King before him, and I—”
“You are a gardener’s boy,” interrupted the Scarecrow. “Your father had no right to rule, either, for the rightful King of this land was the father of Princess Gloria, and only she is entitled to sit upon the throne of Jinxland.”
“Good!” exclaimed Trot. “But what’ll we do with King Krewl? I s’pose he won’t give up the throne unless he has to.”
“No, of course not,” said the Scarecrow. “Therefore it will be our duty to make him give up the throne.”
“How?” asked Trot.
“Give me time to think,” was the reply. “That’s what my brains are for. I don’t know whether you people ever think, or not, but my brains are the best that the Wizard of Oz ever turned out, and if I give them plenty of time to work, the result usually surprises me.”
“Take your time, then,” suggested Trot. “There’s no hurry.”
“Thank you,” said the straw man, and sat perfectly still for half an hour. During this interval the grasshopper whispered in Trot’s ear, to which he was very close, and Trot whispered back to the grasshopper sitting upon her shoulder. Pon cast loving glances at Gloria, who paid not the slightest heed to them.
Finally the Scarecrow laughed aloud.
>
“Brains working?” inquired Trot.
“Yes. They seem in fine order to-day. We will conquer King Krewl and put Gloria upon his throne as Queen of Jinxland.”
“Fine!” cried the little girl, clapping her hands together gleefully. “But how?”
“Leave the how to me,” said the Scarecrow proudly. “As a conqueror I’m a wonder. We will, first of all, write a message to send to King Krewl, asking him to surrender. If he refuses, then we will make him surrender.”
“Why ask him, when we know he’ll refuse?” inquired Pon.
“Why, we must be polite, whatever we do,” explained the Scarecrow. “It would be very rude to conquer a King without proper notice.”
They found it difficult to write a message without paper, pen and ink, none of which was at hand; so it was decided to send Pon as a messenger, with instructions to ask the King, politely but firmly, to surrender.
Pon was not anxious to be the messenger. Indeed, he hinted that it might prove a dangerous mission. But the Scarecrow was now the acknowledged head of the Army of Conquest, and he would listen to no refusal. So off Pon started for the King’s castle, and the others accompanied him as far as his hut, where they had decided to await the gardener’s boy’s return.
I think it was because Pon had known the Scarecrow such a short time that he lacked confidence in the straw man’s wisdom. It was easy to say: “We will conquer King Krewl,” but when Pon drew near to the great castle he began to doubt the ability of a straw-stuffed man, a girl, a grasshopper and a frozen-hearted Princess to do it. As for himself, he had never thought of defying the King before.
That was why the gardener’s boy was not very bold when he entered the castle and passed through to the enclosed court where the King was just then seated, with his favorite courtiers around him. None prevented Pon’s entrance, because he was known to be the gardener’s boy, but when the King saw him he began to frown fiercely. He considered Pon to be to blame for all his trouble with Princess Gloria, who since her heart had been frozen had escaped to some unknown place, instead of returning to the castle to wed Googly-Goo, as she had been expected to do. So the King bared his teeth angrily as he demanded:
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