Another breathless climb brought
our adventurers to a third
landing where there was a rift
in the mountain. On peering
out all they could see was
rolling banks of clouds, so
thick that they obscured all
else.
But the travellers were obliged
to rest, and while they were
sitting on the rocky floor
the Wizard felt in his pocket
and brought out the nine tiny
piglets. To his delight they
were now plainly visible, which
proved that they had passed
beyond the influence of the
magical Valley of Voe.
"Why, we can see each other
again!" cried one, joyfully.
"Yes," sighed Eureka; "and
I also can see you again, and
the sight makes me dreadfully
hungry. Please, Mr. Wizard,
may I eat just one of the fat
little piglets? You'd never
miss ONE of them, I'm sure!"
"What a horrid, savage beast!" exclaimed
a piglet; "and after we've
been such good friends, too,
and played with one another!"
"When I'm not hungry, I love
to play with you all," said
the kitten, demurely; "but
when my stomach is empty it
seems that nothing would fill
it so nicely as a fat piglet."
"And we trusted you so!" said
another of the nine, reproachfully.
"And thought you were respectable!" said
another.
"It seems we were mistaken," declared
a third, looking at the kitten
timorously, "no one with such
murderous desires should belong
to our party, I'm sure."
"You see, Eureka," remarked
Dorothy, reprovingly, "you
are making yourself disliked.
There are certain things proper
for a kitten to eat; but I
never heard of a kitten eating
a pig, under ANY cir'stances."
"Did you ever see such little
pigs before?" asked the kitten. "They
are no bigger than mice, and
I'm sure mice are proper for
me to eat."
"It isn't the bigness, dear;
its the variety," replied the
girl. "These are Mr. Wizard's
pets, just as you are my pet,
and it wouldn't be any more
proper for you to eat them
than it would be for Jim to
eat you."
"And that's just what I shall
do if you don't let those little
balls of pork alone," said
Jim, glaring at the kitten
with his round, big eyes. "If
you injure any one of them
I'll chew you up instantly."
The kitten looked at the
horse thoughtfully, as if trying
to decide whether he meant
it or not.
"In that case," she said, "I'll
leave them alone. You haven't
many teeth left, Jim, but the
few you have are sharp enough
to make me shudder. So the
piglets will be perfectly safe,
hereafter, as far as I am concerned."
"That is right, Eureka," remarked
the Wizard, earnestly. "Let
us all be a happy family and
love one another."
Eureka yawned and stretched
herself.
"I've always loved the piglets," she
said; "but they don't love
me."
"No one can love a person
he's afraid of," asserted Dorothy. "If
you behave, and don't scare
the little pigs, I'm sure they'll
grow very fond of you."
The Wizard now put the nine
tiny ones back into his pocket
and the journey was resumed.
"We must be pretty near the
top, now," said the boy, as
they climbed wearily up the
dark, winding stairway.
"The Country of the Gurgles
can't be far from the top of
the earth," remarked Dorothy. "It
isn't very nice down here.
I'd like to get home again,
I'm sure."
No one replied to this, because
they found they needed all
their breath for the climb.
The stairs had become narrower
and Zeb and the Wizard often
had to help Jim pull the buggy
from one step to another, or
keep it from jamming against
the rocky walls.
At last, however, a dim light
appeared ahead of them, which
grew clearer and stronger as
they advanced.
"Thank goodness we're nearly
there!" panted the little Wizard.
Jim, who was in advance,
saw the last stair before him
and stuck his head above the
rocky sides of the stairway.
Then he halted, ducked down
and began to back up, so that
he nearly fell with the buggy
onto the others.
"Let's go down again!" he
said, in his hoarse voice.
"Nonsense!" snapped the tired
Wizard. "What's the matter
with you, old man?"
"Everything," grumbled the
horse. "I've taken a look at
this place, and it's no fit
country for real creatures
to go to. Everything's dead,
up there--no flesh or blood
or growing thing anywhere."
"Never mind;. we can't turn
back," said Dorothy; "and we
don't intend to stay there,
anyhow."
"It's dangerous," growled
Jim, in a stubborn tone.
"See here, my good steed," broke
in the Wizard, "little Dorothy
and I have been in many queer
countries in our travels, and
always escaped without harm.
We've even been to the marvelous
Land of Oz--haven't we, Dorothy?--so
we don't much care what the
Country of the Gargoyles is
like. Go ahead, Jim, and whatever
happens we'll make the best
of it."
"All right," answered the
horse; "this is your excursion,
and not mine; so if you get
into trouble don't blame me."
With this speech he bent
forward and dragged the buggy
up the remaining steps. The
others followed and soon they
were all standing upon a broad
platform and gazing at the
most curious and startling
sight their eyes had ever beheld.
"The Country of the Gargoyles
is all wooden!" exclaimed Zeb;
and so it was. The ground was
sawdust and the pebbles scattered
around were hard knots from
trees, worn smooth in course
of time. There were odd wooden
houses, with carved wooden
flowers in the front yards.
The tree-trunks were of coarse
wood, but the leaves of the
trees were shavings. The patches
of grass were splinters of
wood, and where neither grass
nor sawdust showed was a solid
wooden flooring. Wooden birds
fluttered among the trees and
wooden cows were browsing upon
the wooden grass; but the most
amazing things of all were
the wooden people--the creatures
known as Gargoyles.
These were very numerous,
for the place was thickly inhabited,
and a large group of the queer
people clustered near, gazing
sharply upon the strangers
who had emerged from the long
spiral stairway.
The Gargoyles were very small
of stature, being less than
three feet in height. Their
bodies were round, their legs
short and thick and their arms
extraordinarily long and stout.
Their heads were too big for
their bodies and their faces
were decidedly ugly to look
upon. Some had long, curved
noses and chins, small eyes
and wide, grinning mouths.
Others had flat noses, protruding
eyes, and ears that were shaped
like those of an elephant.
There were many types, indeed,
scarcely two being alike; but
all were equally disagreeable
in appearance. The tops of
their heads had no hair, but
were carved into a variety
of fantastic shapes, some having
a row of points or balls around
the top, others designs resembling
flowers or vegetables, and
still others having squares
that looked like waffles cut
criss-cross on their heads.
They all wore short wooden
wings which were fastened to
their wooden bodies by means
of wooden hinges with wooden
screws, and with these wings
they flew swiftly and noiselessly
here and there, their legs
being of little use to them.
This noiseless motion was
one of the most peculiar things
about the Gargoyles. They made
no sounds at all, either in
flying or trying to speak,
and they conversed mainly by
means of quick signals made
with their wooden fingers or
lips. Neither was there any
sound to be heard anywhere
throughout the wooden country.
The birds did not sing, nor
did the cows moo; yet there
was more than ordinary activity
everywhere.
The group of these queer
creatures which was discovered
clustered near the stairs at
first remained staring and
motionless, glaring with evil
eyes at the intruders who had
so suddenly appeared in their
land. In turn the Wizard and
the children, the horse and
the kitten, examined the Gargoyles
with the same silent attention.
"There's going to be trouble,
I'm sure," remarked the horse. "Unhitch
those tugs, Zeb, and set me
free from the buggy, so I can
fight comfortably."
"Jim's right," sighed the
Wizard. "There's going to be
trouble, and my sword isn't
stout enough to cut up those
wooden bodies--so I shall have
to get out my revolvers."
He got his satchel from the
buggy and, opening it, took
out two deadly looking revolvers
that made the children shrink
back in alarm just to look
at.
"What harm can the Gurgles
do?" asked Dorothy. "They have
no weapons to hurt us with."
"Each of their arms is a
wooden club," answered the
little man, "and I'm sure the
creatures mean mischief, by
the looks of their eyes. Even
these revolvers can merely
succeed in damaging a few of
their wooden bodies, and after
that we will be at their mercy."
"But why fight at all, in
that case?" asked the girl.
"So I may die with a clear
conscience," returned the Wizard,
gravely. "It's every man's
duty to do the best he knows
how; and I'm going to do it."
"Wish I had an axe," said
Zeb, who by now had unhitched
the horse.
"If we had known we were
coming we might have brought
along several other useful
things," responded the Wizard. "But
we dropped into this adventure
rather unexpectedly."
The Gargoyles had backed
away a distance when they heard
the sound of talking, for although
our friends had spoken in low
tones their words seemed loud
in the silence surrounding
them. But as soon as the conversation
ceased, the grinning, ugly
creatures arose in a flock
and flew swiftly toward the
strangers, their long arms
stretched out before them like
the bowsprits of a fleet of
sail-boats. The horse had especially
attracted their notice, because
it was the biggest and strangest
creature they had ever seen;
so it became the center of
their first attack.
But Jim was ready for them,
and when he saw them coming
he turned his heels toward
them and began kicking out
as hard as he could. Crack!
crash! bang! went his iron-shod
hoofs against the wooden bodies
of the Gargoyles, and they
were battered right and left
with such force that they scattered
like straws in the wind. But
the noise and clatter seemed
as dreadful to them as Jim's
heels, for all who were able
swiftly turned and flew away
to a great distance. The others
picked themselves up from the
ground one by one and quickly
rejoined their fellows, so
for a moment the horse thought
he had won the fight with ease.
But the Wizard was not so
confident.
"Those wooden things are
impossible to hurt," he said, "and
all the damage Jim has done
to them is to knock a few splinters
from their noses and ears.
That cannot make them look
any uglier, I'm sure, and it
is my opinion they will soon
renew the attack."
"What made them fly away?" asked
Dorothy.
"The
noise,
of course.
Don't you
remember
how the
Champion
escaped them by shouting his
battle-cry?"
"Suppose we escape down the
stairs, too," suggested the
boy. "We have time, just now,
and I'd rather face the invis'ble
bears than those wooden imps."
"No," returned Dorothy, stoutly, "it
won't do to go back, for then
we would never get home. Let's
fight it out."
"That is what I advise," said
the Wizard. "They haven't defeated
us yet, and Jim is worth a
whole army."
But the Gargoyles were clever
enough not to attack the horse
the next time. They advanced
in a great swarm, having been
joined by many more of their
kind, and they flew straight
over Jim's head to where the
others were standing.
The Wizard raised one of
his revolvers and fired into
the throng of his enemies,
and the shot resounded like
a clap of thunder in that silent
place.
Some of the wooden beings
fell flat upon the ground,
where they quivered and trembled
in every limb; but most of
them managed to wheel and escape
again to a distance.
Zeb ran and picked up one
of the Gargoyles that lay nearest
to him. The top of its head
was carved into a crown and
the Wizard's bullet had struck
it exactly in the left eye,
which was a hard wooden knot.
Half of the bullet stuck in
the wood and half stuck out,
so it had been the jar and
the sudden noise that had knocked
the creature down, more than
the fact that it was really
hurt. Before this crowned Gargoyle
had recovered himself Zeb had
wound a strap several times
around its body, confining
its wings and arms so that
it could not move. Then, having
tied the wooden creature securely,
the boy buckled the strap and
tossed his prisoner into the
buggy. By that time the others
had all retired.
|