Oz, The Complete Collection

by L. Frank Baum

  “So that’s why the sign said don’t sing,” thought Dorothy to herself. The air seemed clearer somehow, and she no longer felt sleepy.

  When the last Poke had disappeared, the Knight sighed and climbed gravely back on his stone chair.

  “My singing makes them very wroth. In faith, they cannot endure music; it wakens them,” explained Sir Hokus. “But hold, ’twas food you asked of me. Breakfast, I believe you called it.” With an uneasy glance at the Cowardly Lion, who was sniffing the air hungrily, the Knight banged on his steel armor with his sword, and a fat, lazy Poke shuffled slowly into the hall.

  “Pid, bring the stew,” roared Sir Hokus as the Poke stood blinking at them dully.

  “Stew, Pid!” he repeated loudly, and began to hum under his breath, at which Pid fairly ran out of the room, returning in a few minutes with a large yellow bowl. This he handed ungraciously to Dorothy. Then he brought a great copper tub of the stuff for the Cowardly Lion and retired sulkily.

  Dorothy thought she had never tasted anything more delicious. The Cowardly Lion was gulping down his share with closed eyes, and both, I am very sorry to say, forgot even to thank Sir Hokus.

  “Are you perchance a damsel in distress?”

  Quite startled, Dorothy looked up from her bowl and saw the Knight regarding her wistfully.

  “She’s in Pokes, and that’s the same thing,” said the Cowardly Lion without opening his eyes.

  “We’re lost,” began the little girl, “but—”

  There was something so quaint and gentle about the Knight, that she soon found herself talking to him like an old friend. She told him all of their adventures since leaving the Emerald City and even told about the disappearance of the Scarecrow.

  “Passing strange, yet how refreshing,” murmured Sir Hokus. “And if I seem a little behind times, you must not blame me. For centuries, I have dozed in this grey castle, and it cometh over me that things have greatly changed. This beast now, he talks quite manfully, and this Kingdom that you mention, this Oz? Never heard of it!”

  “Never heard of Oz?” gasped the little girl. “Why, you’re a subject of Oz, and Pokes is in Oz, though I don’t know just where.”

  Here Dorothy gave him a short history of the Fairy country, and of the many adventures she had had since she had come there. Sir Hokus listened with growing melancholy.

  “To think,” he sighed mournfully, “that I was prisoner here while all that was happening!”

  “Are you a prisoner?” asked Dorothy in surprise. “I thought you were King of the Pokes!”

  “Uds daggers!” thundered Sir Hokus so suddenly that Dorothy jumped. “I am a knight!”

  Seeing her startled expression, he controlled himself. “I was a knight,” he continued brokenly. “Long centuries ago, mounted on my goodly steed, I fared from my father’s castle to offer my sword to a mighty king. His name?” Sir Hokus tapped his forehead uncertainly. “Go to, I have forgot.”

  “Could it have been King Arthur?” exclaimed Dorothy, wide-eyed with interest. “Why, just think of your being still alive!”

  “That’s just the point,” choked the Knight. “I’ve been alive—still, so still that I’ve forgotten everything. Why, I can’t even remember how I used to talk,” he confessed miserably.

  “But how did you get here?” rumbled the Cowardly Lion, who did not like being left out of the conversation.

  “I had barely left my father’s castle before I met a stranger,” said Sir Hokus, sitting up very straight, “who challenged me to battle. I spurred my horse forward, our lances met, and the stranger was unseated. But by my faith, ’twas no mortal Knight.” Sir Hokus sighed deeply and lapsed into silence.

  “What happened?” asked Dorothy curiously, for Sir Hokus seemed to have forgotten them.

  “The Knight,” said he with another mighty sigh, “struck the ground with his lance and cried, ‘Live Wretch, for centuries in the stupidest country out of the world,’ and disappeared. And here—here I am!” With a despairing gesture, Sir Hokus arose, big tears splashing down his armor.

  “I feel that I am brave, very brave, but how am I to know until I have encountered danger? Ah, friends, behold in me a Knight who has never had a real adventure, never killed a dragon, nor championed a Lady, nor gone on a Quest!”

  Dropping on his knees before the little girl, Sir Hokus took her hand. “Let me go with you on this Quest for the valiant Scarecrow. Let me be your good Night!” he begged eagerly.

  “Good night,” coughed the Cowardly Lion, who, to tell the truth, was feeling a bit jealous. But Dorothy was thrilled, and as Sir Hokus continued to look at her pleadingly, she took off her hair ribbon and bound it ’round his arm.

  “You shall be my own true Knight, and I your Lady Fair!” she announced solemnly, and exactly as she had read in books.

  At this interesting juncture the Cowardly Lion gave a tremendous yawn, and Sir Hokus with an exclamation of alarm jumped to his feet. The Pokes had returned to the hall, and Dorothy felt herself falling asleep again.

  “Up, up, my lieges and away!

  We take the field again—

  For Ladies fair we fight today

  And KING! Up, up, my merry men!”

  shrilled the Knight as if he were leading an army to battle. The Pokes opened both eyes, but did not immediately retire. Sir Hokus bravely swallowed a yawn and hastily clearing his throat shouted another song, which he evidently made up on the spur of the moment:

  “Avaunt! Be off! Be gone—Methinks

  We’ll be asleep in forty winks!”

  This time the Pokes left sullenly, but the effect of their presence had thrown Dorothy, the Cowardly Lion, and the Knight into a violent fit of the gapes.

  “If I fall asleep, nothing can save you,” said Sir Hokus in an agitated voice. “Hah, hoh, hum! Hah—!”

  The Knight’s eyes closed.

  “Don’t do it, don’t do it!” begged Dorothy, shaking him violently. “Can’t we run away?”

  “I’ve been trying for five centuries,” wailed the Knight in a discouraged voice, “but I always fall asleep before I reach the gate, and they bring me back here. They’re rather fond of me in their slow way,” he added apologetically.

  “Couldn’t you keep singing?” asked the Cowardly Lion anxiously, for the prospect of a five-century stay in Pokes was more than he could bear.

  “Couldn’t we all sing?” suggested Dorothy. “Surely all three of us won’t fall asleep at once.”

  “I’m not much of a singer,” groaned the Cowardly Lion, beginning to tremble, “but I’m willing to do my share!”

  “I like you,” said Sir Hokus, going over and thumping the Cowardly Lion approvingly on the back. “You ought to be knighted!”

  The lion blinked his eyes, for Sir Hokus’ iron fist bruised him severely, but knowing it was kindly meant, he bore it bravely.

  “I am henceforth a beknighted lion,” he whispered to Dorothy while Sir Hokus was straightening his armor. Next the Knight took down an iron poker, which he handed to Dorothy.

  “To wake us up with,” he explained. “And now, Lady Dorothy, if you are ready, we will start on the Quest for the honorable Scarecrow, and remember, everybody sing—Sing for your life!”

  Chapter 6

  SINGING THEIR WAY out of POKES

  aking a deep breath, Sir Hokus, the Cowardly Lion and Dorothy burst out of the hall singing at the top of their voices.

  “Three blind mice—!” sang Dorothy.

  “Across the plain!” shouted Sir Hokus.

  “I am the Cowardly Lion of Oz!” roared the lion.

  The Pokes were so taken aback at the horrid sounds that they ran scurrying right and left. In another minute the three were out of the castle and singing their way through the gloomy garden. Dorothy stuck to the “Three Blind Mice.” Sir Hokus sang verse after verse of an old English ballad, and the Cowardly Lion roared and gurgled a song of his own making, which, considering it was a first attempt, was not so bad:


  “I am the Cowardly Lion of Oz!

  Be good! Begone! Beware! Becoz

  When I am scared full fierce I be;

  Br—rah—grr—ruff, look out for me!”

  The Pokes stumbled this way and that, and all went well until they rushed into a company of Pokes who were playing croquet. The slowness with which they raised their mallets fascinated Dorothy, and she stopped to watch them in spite of herself.

  “Don’t stop! Sing!” growled the Cowardly Lion in the middle of a line. To make up for lost time, Dorothy closed her eyes and sang harder than ever, but alas! next instant she fell over a wicket, which so deprived her of breath that she could barely scramble up, let alone sing. As soon as she stopped singing, the Pokes paused in their flight, and as soon as they paused Dorothy began to gape. Singing for dear life, Sir Hokus jerked Dorothy by the arm, and the Cowardly Lion roared so loud that the Pokes covered their ears and began backing away.

  “There was a Knight! Come on, come on!” sang Sir Hokus, and Dorothy came, and in a few minutes was able to take up the “Three Blind Mice” again. But running and singing at the same time is not an easy task. And running through Pokes is like trying to run through water. (You know how hard that is?)

  “Three Blind Mice—uh—hah—Three Blind—Mice—uh-hah—I can’t sing another note! Thu—ree—!” gasped poor Dorothy, stumbling along, while the Cowardly Lion was puffing like an engine. The Pokes in the garden had recovered from their first alarm and were following at a safe distance. The gates of the city were only a short distance off, but it seemed to Dorothy that she could not go another step.

  A large group of Pokes had gathered at the gates, and unless they could sing their way through, they would fall asleep and be carried ignominiously back to the castle.

  “Now!” wheezed Sir Hokus, “Remember, it is for the Scarecrow!” All of them swallowed, took a deep breath, and put their last remaining strength into their voices. But a wily Poke who had stuffed some cotton in his ears now approached pushing a little cart.

  “Take—!” he drawled, and before Dorothy realized what she was doing, she had accepted a cone from the Poke.

  “Hah, hoh, hum! Why, it’s hokey pokey!” spluttered Dorothy, and with a deep sigh of delight she took a large bite of the pink ice cream. How cool it felt on her dry throat! She opened her mouth for a second taste, yawned terrifically, and fell with a thud to the stone pavement.

  “Dorothy!” wailed Sir Hokus, stopping short in his song and bending over the little girl. The poor Cowardly Lion gave a gulp of despair and began running around the two, roaring and singing in a choked voice. The Pokes nodded to each other in a pleased fashion, and the Chief Poker started cautiously toward them with a long, thick rope. The Cowardly Lion redoubled his efforts. Then, seeing Sir Hokus about to fall, he jumped on the Knight with all his strength. Down crashed Sir Hokus, his armor clanging against the stones that paved the gateway.

  “Sing!” roared the Cowardly Lion, glaring at him fiercely. The fall wakened the poor Knight, but he had not the strength to rise. Sitting on the hard stones and looking reproachfully at the Cowardly Lion, he began his ballad in a half-hearted fashion. The Cowardly Lion’s heart was like to burst between lack of breath and fear, but making one last tremendous effort and still roaring his song, he bounded at the Chief Poker, seized the rope, and was back before the stupid creature had time to yawn.

  “Tie it around your waist; take Dorothy in your arms!” gasped the Cowardly Lion out of the corner of his mouth. Sir Hokus, though completely dazed, had just enough presence of mind to obey, and the next minute the Cowardly Lion, growling between his teeth like a good fellow, was dashing through the group of Pokes, the other end of the rope in his mouth.

  Bumpety bump—bump—bump! Bangety-bang-bang! went Sir Hokus over the cobbles, holding his helmet with one hand and Dorothy fast in the other arm. The Pokes fell this way and that, and such was the determination of the Cowardly Lion that he never stopped till he was out of the gate and halfway up the rough road they had so recently traveled. Then with a mighty sigh, he dropped the rope, rolled over and over down the hill, and lay panting with exhaustion at the bottom.

  The bumping over the cobbles had wakened Sir Hokus thoroughly. Indeed, the poor Knight was black and blue, and his armor dented and scraped frightfully in important places.

  Dorothy, considerably shaken, opened her eyes and began feebly singing “Three Blind Mice.”

  “No need,” puffed Sir Hokus, lifting her off his lap and rising stiffly.

  “Yon noble beast has rescued us.”

  “Won’t the Pokes come up here?” asked Dorothy, staring around a bit dizzily.

  “They cannot live out of the kingdom,” said the Knight, and Dorothy drew a big sigh of relief. Sir Hokus, however, was looking very grave.

  “I have failed on my first adventure. Had it not been for the Cowardly Lion, we would now be prisoners in Pokes,” he murmured sadly. Then he unfastened the plume from his helmet. “It beseemeth me not to wear it,” sighed the Knight mournfully, and though Dorothy tried her best to comfort him, he refused to put it back. Finally, she fastened the plume to her dress, and they went down to the Cowardly Lion.

  There was a little spring nearby, and after they had poured six helmets of water over his head, the lion opened his eyes. “Been in a good many fights,” gasped the lion, “but I never fought one like this. Singing, bah!”

  “Noble Sir, how can I ever repay you?” faltered the Knight. “Alas, that I have failed in the hour of trial!”

  “Why, it wasn’t a question of courage at all,” rumbled the Cowardly Lion, greatly embarrassed. “I had the loudest voice and the most breath, that’s all! You got the rough end of it.” Sir Hokus looked ruefully at his armor. The back was entirely squashed.

  “Never mind!” said the Knight bravely. “It is the front one presents to the foe.”

  “Now you’re talking like a real Knight,” said Dorothy. “A while ago you said, ‘Yon’ and ‘beseemeth,’ and first thing you know the talk will all come back to you.” Sir Hokus’ honest face shone with pleasure.

  “Odds bludgeons and truncheons! The little maid is right!” he exclaimed, striking an attitude. “And once it does, the rest will be easy.”

  “Don’t say rest to me,” begged the Cowardly Lion, getting slowly to his feet. “Hah, hoh, hum! Just to think of it makes me yawn. Now don’t you think we had better start off?”

  “If you’re rested,” began Dorothy. The Cowardly Lion put his paw over his ear and looked so comical that both Dorothy and Sir Hokus laughed heartily.

  “If you’re ready,” amended Dorothy, and the three adventurers started up the steep road. “The first thing to do,” said the little girl, “is to get back to the Emerald City as quickly as we can.”

  At this very minute Glinda, the Good Sorceress of Oz, in her palace in the Quadling Country, was puzzling over an entry in the Magic Record Book. This book tells everything that is happening in the world and out, and while it does not give details, it is a very useful possession.

  “The Emperor of the Silver Islands,” read Glinda, “has returned to his people.”

  “Now who is the Emperor of the Silver Islands?” she asked herself. She puzzled about it for a long while, and then, deciding that it had nothing to do with the Fairy Kingdom of Oz, she closed the book and went for a walk in the palace garden.

  Dorothy and Sir Hokus and the Cowardly Lion had meanwhile reached the first sign in the dim forest, the sign directing travelers to Pokes. Two roads branched out through the forest, and after much debating they took the wider.

  “Do you ’spose this leads to the Emerald City?” asked Cowardly Lion dubiously.

  “Time will tell, time will tell,” said Sir Hokus cheerfully.

  “Yes,” murmured the Cowardly Lion, “time will tell. But what?”

  Chapter 7

  The SCARECROW IS HAILED as EMPEROR!

  eaning forward on the great throne, the Scarecrow waited
impatiently for the ancient gentleman to speak. The grey-skinned courtiers were eyeing him expectantly, and just as the suspense became almost unendurable, the old man threw up his arms and cried sharply:

  “The prophecy of the magic beanstalk has been fulfilled. In this radiant and sublime Scarecrowcus, the spirit of Chang Wang Woe, the mighty, has returned. And I, the Grand Chew Chew of the realm, prostrate myself before this wonderful Scarecrowcus, Emperor of the Silver Islands.” So, likewise, did all the company present, and the Scarecrow, taken unawares, flew up several feet and landed in a heap on the steps leading to the throne. He climbed back hurriedly, picking up the fan and parasol that he had plucked from the beanstalk.

  “I wish Professor Wogglebug could hear this,” said the Scarecrow, settling himself complacently. “But I must watch out, and remember to hold on.”

  The Grand Chew Chew was the first to rise, and folding his arms, he asked solemnly:

  “What are your commands, Ancient and Honorable Scarecrowcus?”

  “If you’d just omit the Cus,” begged the Scarecrow in an embarrassed voice, “I believe I could think better. Am I in China, or where? Are you Chinamen, or what?”

  “We are Silvermen,” said the Grand Chew Chew impressively, “and a much older race than our Chinese cousins. They are people of the sun. We are people of the stars. Has your Highness so soon forgotten?”

  “I am afraid,” said the Scarecrow, rubbing his chin reflectively, “that I have.” He gazed slowly around the great Throne Room. Ozma’s palace itself was not more dazzling. The floor of dull silver blocks was covered with rich blue rugs. Furniture, chairs, screens and everything were made of silver inlaid with precious stones. Filigreed silver lanterns hung from the high ceilings, and tall silver vases filled with pink and blue blossoms filled the rooms with their perfume. Blue flags embroidered with silver stars fluttered from the walls and the tips of the pikebearers’ spears, and silver seemed to be so plentiful that even shoes were fashioned of it. Faintly through the windows came the sweet tones of a hundred silver chimes, and altogether the Scarecrow was quite dazed by his apparent good fortune. Surely they had called him Emperor, but how could that be? He turned to address the Grand Chew Chew; then as he saw out of the corner of his eye that the assemblage were making ready to fall upon their faces, he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper: