The Marvelous Land of Oz - Lyman Frank Baum (book club reads TXT) 📗

were stiff and awkward, for there were no knee-joints in them; so that presently he bumped against Jack Pumpkinhead and sent that personage tumbling upon the moss that lined the roadside.

 

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Tip became alarmed at this accident, as well as at the persistence of the SawHorse in prancing around in a circle; so he called out:

“Whoa! Whoa, there!”

The SawHorse paid no attention whatever to this command, and the next instant brought one of his wooden legs down upon Tip’s foot so forcibly that the boy danced away in pain to a safer distance, from where he again yelled:

“Whoa! Whoa, I say!”

Jack had now managed to raise himself to a sitting position, and he looked at the SawHorse with much interest.

“I don’t believe the animal can hear you,” he remarked.

“I shout loud enough, don’t I?” answered Tip, angrily.

“Yes; but the horse has no ears,” said the smiling Pumpkinhead.

“Sure enough!” exclaimed Tip, noting the fact for the first time. “How, then, am I going to stop him?”

But at that instant the SawHorse stopped himself, having concluded it was impossible to see his own body. He saw Tip, however, and came close to the boy to observe him more fully.

 

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It was really comical to see the creature walk; for it moved the legs on its right side together, and those on its left side together, as a pacing horse does; and that made its body rock sidewise, like a cradle.

Tip patted it upon the head, and said “Good boy! Good Boy!” in a coaxing tone; and the SawHorse pranced away to examine with its bulging eyes the form of Jack Pumpkinhead.

“I must find a halter for him,” said Tip; and having made a search in his pocket he produced a roll of strong cord. Unwinding this, he approached the SawHorse and tied the cord around its neck, afterward fastening the other end to a large tree. The SawHorse, not understanding the action, stepped backward and snapped the string easily; but it made no attempt to run away.

“He’s stronger than I thought,” said the boy, “and rather obstinate, too.”

“Why don’t you make him some ears?” asked Jack. “Then you can tell him what to do.”

“That’s a splendid idea!” said Tip. “How did you happen to think of it?”

“Why, I didn’t think of it,” answered the Pumpkinhead; “I didn’t need to, for it’s the simplest and easiest thing to do.”

 

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So Tip got out his knife and fashioned some ears out of the bark of a small tree.

“I mustn’t make them too big,” he said, as he whittled, “or our horse would become a donkey.”

“How is that?” inquired Jack, from the roadside.

“Why, a horse has bigger ears than a man; and a donkey has bigger ears than a horse,” explained Tip.

“Then, if my ears were longer, would I be a horse?” asked Jack.

“My friend,” said Tip, gravely, “you’ll never be anything but a Pumpkinhead, no matter how big your ears are.”

“Oh,” returned Jack, nodding; “I think I understand.”

“If you do, you’re a wonder,” remarked the boy “but there’s no harm in thinking you understand. I guess these ears are ready now. Will you hold the horse while I stick them on?”

“Certainly, if you’ll help me up,” said Jack.

So Tip raised him to his feet, and the Pumpkinhead went to the horse and held its head while the boy bored two holes in it with his knife-blade and inserted the ears.

“They make him look very handsome,” said Jack, admiringly.

 

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But those words, spoken close to the SawHorse, and being the first sounds he had ever heard, so startled the animal that he made a bound forward and tumbled Tip on one side and Jack on the other. Then he continued to rush forward as if frightened by the clatter of his own footsteps.

“Whoa!” shouted Tip, picking himself up; “whoa! you idiot whoa!” The SawHorse would probably have paid no attention to this, but just then it stepped a leg into a gopher-hole and stumbled head-over-heels to the ground, where it lay upon its back, frantically waving its four legs in the air.

Tip ran up to it.

“You’re a nice sort of a horse, I must say!” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t you stop when I yelled ‘whoa?’”

“Does ‘whoa’ mean to stop?” asked the SawHorse, in a surprised voice, as it rolled its eyes upward to look at the boy.

“Of course it does,” answered Tip.

“And a hole in the ground means to stop, also, doesn’t it?” continued the horse.

“To be sure; unless you step over it,” said Tip.

“What a strange place this is,” the creature exclaimed, as if amazed. “What am I doing here, anyway?”

 

52 Full page line-art drawing.

“DO KEEP THOSE LEGS STILL.”

 

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“Why, I’ve brought you to life,” answered the boy “but it won’t hurt you any, if you mind me and do as I tell you.”

“Then I will do as you tell me,” replied the SawHorse, humbly. “But what happened to me, a moment ago? I don’t seem to be just right, someway.”

“You’re upside down,” explained Tip. “But just keep those legs still a minute and I’ll set you right side up again.”

“How many sides have I?” asked the creature, wonderingly.

“Several,” said Tip, briefly. “But do keep those legs still.”

The SawHorse now became quiet, and held its legs rigid; so that Tip, after several efforts, was able to roll him over and set him upright.

“Ah, I seem all right now,” said the queer animal, with a sigh.

“One of your ears is broken,” Tip announced, after a careful examination. “I’ll have to make a new one.”

Then he led the SawHorse back to where Jack was vainly struggling to regain his feet, and after assisting the Pumpkinhead to stand upright Tip whittled out a new ear and fastened it to the horse’s head.

 

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“Now,” said he, addressing his steed, “pay attention to what I’m going to tell you. ‘Whoa!’ means to stop; ‘Get-Up!’ means to walk forward; ‘Trot!’ means to go as fast as you can. Understand?”

“I believe I do,” returned the horse.

“Very good. We are all going on a journey to the Emerald City, to see His Majesty, the Scarecrow; and Jack Pumpkinhead is going to ride on your back, so he won’t wear out his joints.”

“I don’t mind,” said the SawHorse. “Anything that suits you suits me.”

Then Tip assisted Jack to get upon the horse.

“Hold on tight,” he cautioned, “or you may fall off and crack your pumpkin head.”

“That would be horrible!” said Jack, with a shudder. “What shall I hold on to?”

“Why, hold on to his ears,” replied Tip, after a moment’s hesitation.

“Don’t do that!” remonstrated the SawHorse; “for then I can’t hear.”

That seemed reasonable, so Tip tried to think of something else.

“I’ll fix it!” said he, at length. He went into the wood and cut a short length of limb from a young, stout tree. One end of this he sharpened to a point, and then he dug a hole in the back of

 

55 Full page line-art drawing.

“DOES IT HURT?” ASKED THE BOY

 

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the SawHorse, just behind its head. Next he brought a piece of rock from the road and hammered the post firmly into the animal’s back.

“Stop! Stop!” shouted the horse; “you’re jarring me terribly.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the boy.

“Not exactly hurt,” answered the animal; “but it makes me quite nervous to be jarred.”

“Well, it’s all over now” said Tip, encouragingly. “Now, Jack, be sure to hold fast to this post and then you can’t fall off and get smashed.”

So Jack held on tight, and Tip said to the horse:

“Get up.”

The obedient creature at once walked forward, rocking from side to side as he raised his feet from the ground.

Tip walked beside the SawHorse, quite content with this addition to their party. Presently he began to whistle.

“What does that sound mean?” asked the horse.

“Don’t pay any attention to it,” said Tip. “I’m just whistling, and that only means I’m pretty well satisfied.”

“I’d whistle myself, if I could push my lips together,” remarked Jack. “I fear, dear father, that in some respects I am sadly lacking.”

 

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After journeying on for some distance the narrow path they were following turned into a broad roadway, paved with yellow brick. By the side of the road Tip noticed a sign-post that read:

“NINE MILES TO THE EMERALD CITY.”

 

But it was now growing dark, so he decided to camp for the night by the roadside and to resume the journey next morning by daybreak. He led the SawHorse to a grassy mound upon which grew several bushy trees, and carefully assisted the Pumpkinhead to alight.

“I think I’ll lay you upon the ground, overnight,” said the boy. “You will be safer that way.”

“How about me?” asked the SawHorse.

“It won’t hurt you to stand,” replied Tip; “and, as you can’t sleep, you may as well watch out and see that no one comes near to disturb us.”

Then the boy stretched himself upon the grass beside the Pumpkinhead, and being greatly wearied by the journey was soon fast asleep.

Line-Art Drawing

 

58 Full page line-art drawing.

 

59 Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride to the Emerald City

 

At daybreak Tip was awakened by the Pumpkinhead. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, bathed in a little brook, and then ate a portion of his bread and cheese. Having thus prepared for a new day the boy said:

“Let us start at once. Nine miles is quite a distance, but we ought to reach the Emerald City by noon if no accidents happen.” So the Pumpkinhead was again perched upon the back of the SawHorse and the journey was resumed.

Tip noticed that the purple tint of the grass and trees had now faded to a dull lavender, and before long this lavender appeared to take on a greenish tinge that gradually brightened as they drew nearer to the great City where the Scarecrow ruled.

 

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The little party had traveled but a short two miles upon their way when the road of yellow brick was parted by a broad and swift river. Tip was puzzled how to cross over; but after a time he discovered a man in a ferry-boat approaching from the other side of the stream.

When the man reached the bank Tip asked:

“Will you row us to the other side?”

“Yes, if you have money,” returned the ferryman, whose face looked cross and disagreeable.

“But I have no money,” said Tip.

“None at all?” inquired the man.

“None at all,” answered the boy.

“Then I’ll not break my back rowing you over,” said the ferryman, decidedly.

“What a nice man!” remarked the Pumpkinhead, smilingly.

The ferryman stared at him, but made no reply. Tip was trying to think, for it was a great disappointment to him to find his journey so suddenly brought to an end.

“I must certainly get to the Emerald City,” he said to the boatman; “but how can I cross the river if you do not take me?”

The man laughed, and it was not a nice laugh.

“That wooden horse will float,” said he; “and

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you can ride him across. As for the pumpkinheaded loon who accompanies you, let him sink or swim it won’t matter greatly which.”

“Don’t worry about me,” said Jack, smiling pleasantly upon the crabbed ferryman; “I’m sure I ought to float beautifully.”

Tip thought the experiment was worth making, and the SawHorse, who did not know what danger meant, offered no objections whatever. So