The Marvelous Land of Oz - L. Frank Baum (red novels TXT) 📗

Jackdaws are the greatest enemies of my race.”

The others were not at all afraid; but the Scarecrow at once decided to save those of the party who were liable to be injured by the angry birds. So he commanded Tip to take off Jack’s head and lie down with it in the bottom of the nest, and when this was done he ordered the Woggle-Bug to lie beside Tip. Nick Chopper, who knew from past experience just what to do, then took the Scarecrow to pieces (all except his head) and scattered the straw over Tip and the Woggle-Bug, completely covering their bodies.

Hardly had this been accomplished when the flock of Jackdaws reached them. Perceiving the intruders in their nest the birds flew down upon them with screams of rage.

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The Tin Woodman was usually a peaceful man, but when occasion required he could fight as fiercely as a Roman gladiator. So, when the Jackdaws nearly knocked him down in their rush of wings, and their sharp beaks and claws threatened to damage his brilliant plating, the Woodman picked up his axe and made it whirl swiftly around his head.

But although many were beaten off in this way, the birds were so numerous and so brave that they continued the attack as furiously as before. Some of them pecked at the eyes of the Gump, which hung over the nest in a helpless condition; but the Gump’s eyes were of glass and could not be injured. Others of the Jackdaws rushed at the Sawhorse; but that animal, being still upon his back, kicked out so viciously with his wooden legs that he beat off as many assailants as did the Woodman’s axe.

Finding themselves thus opposed, the birds fell upon the Scarecrow’s straw, which lay at the center of the nest, covering Tip and the Woggle-Bug and Jack’s pumpkin head, and began tearing it away and flying off with it, only to let it drop, straw by straw into the great gulf beneath.

The Scarecrow’s head, noting with dismay this wanton destruction of his interior, cried to the Tin Woodman to save him; and that good friend responded with renewed energy. His axe fairly flashed among the Jackdaws, and fortunately the Gump began wildly waving the two wings remaining on the left side of its body. The flutter of these great wings filled the Jackdaws with terror, and when the Gump by its exertions freed itself from the peg of rock on which it hung, and sank flopping into the nest, the alarm of the birds knew no bounds and they fled screaming over the mountains.

When the last foe had disappeared, Tip crawled from under the sofas and assisted the Woggle-Bug to follow him.

“We are saved!” shouted the boy, delightedly.

“We are, indeed!” responded the Educated Insect, fairly hugging the stiff head of the Gump in his joy. “and we owe it all to the flopping of the Thing, and the good axe of the Woodman!”

“If I am saved, get me out of here!” called Jack; whose head was still beneath the sofas; and Tip managed to roll the pumpkin out and place it upon its neck again. He also set the Sawhorse upright, and said to it:

“We owe you many thanks for the gallant fight you made.”

“I really think we have escaped very nicely,” remarked the Tin Woodman, in a tone of pride.

“Not so!” exclaimed a hollow voice.

At this they all turned in surprise to look at the Scarecrow’s head, which lay at the back of the nest.

“I am completely ruined!” declared the Scarecrow, as he noted their astonishment. “For where is the straw that stuffs my body?”

The awful question startled them all. They gazed around the nest with horror, for not a vestige of straw remained. The Jackdaws had stolen it to the last wisp and flung it all into the chasm that yawned for hundreds of feet beneath the nest.

“My poor, poor friend!” said the Tin Woodman, taking up the Scarecrow’s head and caressing it tenderly; “whoever could imagine you would come to this untimely end?”

“I did it to save my friends,” returned the head; “and I am glad that I perished in so noble and unselfish a manner.”

“But why are you all so despondent?” inquired the Woggle-Bug. “The Scarecrow’s clothing is still safe.”

“Yes,” answered the Tin Woodman; “but our friend’s clothes are useless without stuffing.”

“Why not stuff him with money?” asked Tip.

“Money!” they all cried, in an amazed chorus.

“To be sure,” said the boy. “In the bottom of the nest are thousands of dollar bills⁠—and two-dollar bills⁠—and five-dollar bills⁠—and tens, and twenties, and fifties. There are enough of them to stuff a dozen Scarecrows. Why not use the money?”

The Tin Woodman began to turn over the rubbish with the handle of his axe; and, sure enough, what they had first thought only worthless papers were found to be all bills of various denominations, which the mischievous Jackdaws had for years been engaged in stealing from the villages and cities they visited.

There was an immense fortune lying in that inaccessible nest; and Tip’s suggestion was, with the Scarecrow’s consent, quickly acted upon.

They selected all the newest and cleanest bills and assorted them into various piles. The Scarecrow’s left leg and boot were stuffed with five-dollar bills; his right leg was stuffed with ten-dollar bills, and his body so closely filled with fifties, one-hundreds and one-thousands that he could scarcely button his jacket with comfort.

“You are now” said the Woggle-Bug, impressively, when the task had been completed, “the most valuable member of our party; and as you are among faithful friends there is little danger of your being spent.”

“Thank you,” returned the Scarecrow, gratefully. “I feel like a new man; and although at first glance I might be mistaken for a Safety Deposit Vault, I beg you to remember that my Brains are still composed of the same old material. And these are the possessions that have always made me a person to be