Now,
General Jinjur -- who, you will
remember, commanded the Army
of Revolt -- was rendered very
uneasy by the escape of the Scarecrow
from the Emerald City. She feared,
and with good reason, that if
his Majesty and the Tin Woodman
Joined forces, it would mean
danger to her and her entire
army; for the people of Oz had
not yet forgotten the deeds of
these famous heroes, who had
passed successfully through so
many startling adventures.
So Jinjur sent post-haste for
old Mombi, the witch, and promised
her large rewards if she would
come to the assistance of the
rebel army.
Mombi was furious at the trick
Tip had played upon her as well
as at his escape and the theft
of the precious Powder of Life;
so she needed no urging to induce
her to travel to the Emerald
City to assist Jinjur in defeating
the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman,
who had made Tip one of their
friends.
Mombi had no sooner arrived
at the royal palace than she
discovered, by means of her secret
magic, that the adventurers were
starting upon their Journey to
the Emerald City; so she retired
to a small room high up in a
tower and locked herself in while
she practised such arts as she
could command to prevent the
return of the Scarecrow and his
companions.
That was why the Tin Woodman
presently stopped and said:
"Something
very curious
has happened.
I ought to
know by
heart and every step of this
Journey, yet I fear we have already
lost our way."
"That is quite impossible!" protested
the Scarecrow. "Why do you think,
my dear friend, that we have
gone astray?"
"Why,
here before
us is a great
field of sunflowers -- and I
never saw this field before in
all my life."
At these words they all looked
around, only to find that they
were indeed surrounded by a field
of tall stalks, every stalk bearing
at its top a gigantic sunflower.
And not only were these flowers
almost blinding in their vivid
hues of red and gold, but each
one whirled around upon its stalk
like a miniature wind-mill, completely
dazzling the vision of the beholders
and so mystifying them that they
knew not which way to turn.
"It's witchcraft!" exclaimed
Tip.
While they paused, hesitating
and wondering, the Tin Woodman
uttered a cry of impatience and
advanced with swinging axe to
cut down the stalks before him.
But now the sunflowers suddenly
stopped their rapid whirling,
and the travelers plainly saw
a girl's face appear in the center
of each flower. These lovely
faces looked upon the astonished
band with mocking smiles, and
then burst into a chorus of merry
laughter at the dismay their
appearance caused.
"Stop! stop!" cried Tip, seizing
the Woodman's arm; "they're alive!
they're girls!"
At that moment the flowers
began whirling again, and the
faces faded away and were lost
in the rapid revolutions.
The Tin Woodman dropped his
axe and sat down upon the ground.
"It would be heartless to chop
down those pretty creatures," said
he, despondently. "and yet I
do not know how else we can proceed
upon our way"
"They looked to me strangely
like the faces of the Army of
Revolt," mused the Scarecrow. "But
I cannot conceive how the girls
could have followed us here so
quickly."
"I believe it's magic," said
Tip, positively, "and that someone
is playing a trick upon us. I've
known old Mombi do things like
that before. Probably it's nothing
more than an illusion, and there
are no sunflowers here at all."
"Then let us shut our eyes
and walk forward," suggested
the Woodman.
"Excuse me," replied the Scarecrow. "My
eyes are not painted to shut.
Because you happen to have tin
eyelids, you must not imagine
we are all built in the same
way."
"And the eyes of the Saw-Horse
are knot eyes," said Jack, leaning
forward to examine them.
"Nevertheless, you must ride
quickly forward," commanded Tip, "and
we will follow after you and
so try to escape. My eyes are
already so dazzled that I can
scarcely see."
So the Pumpkinhead rode boldly
forward, and Tip grasped the
stub tail of the Saw-Horse and
followed with closed eyes. The
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman
brought up the rear, and before
they had gone many yards a Joyful
shout from Jack announced that
the way was clear before them.
Then all paused to look backward,
but not a trace of the field
of sunflowers remained.
More cheerfully, now they proceeded
upon their Journey; but old Mombi
had so changed the appearance
of the landscape that they would
surely have been lost had not
the Scarecrow wisely concluded
to take their direction from
the sun. For no witch-craft could
change the course of the sun,
and it was therefore a safe guide.
However, other difficulties
lay before them. The Saw-Horse
stepped into a rabbit hole and
fell to the ground. The Pumpkinhead
was pitched high into the air,
and his history would probably
have ended at that exact moment
had not the Tin Woodman skillfully
caught the pumpkin as it descended
and saved it from injury.
Tip soon had it fitted to the
neck again and replaced Jack
upon his feet. But the Saw-Horse
did not escape so easily. For
when his leg was pulled from
the rabbit hole it was found
to be broken short off, and must
be replaced or repaired before
he could go a step farther.
"This is quite serious," said
the Tin Woodman." If there were
trees near by I might soon manufacture
another leg for this animal;
but I cannot see even a shrub
for miles around."
"And there are neither fences
nor houses in this part of the
land of Oz," added the Scarecrow,
disconsolately.
"Then what shall we do?" enquired
the boy.
"I suppose I must start my
brains working," replied his
Majesty the Scarecrow; "for experience
has, taught me that I can do
anything if I but take time to
think it out."
"Let us all think," said Tip; "and
perhaps we shall find a way to
repair the Saw-Horse."
So they sat in a row upon the
grass and began to think, while
the Saw-Horse occupied itself
by gazing curiously upon its
broken limb.
"Does it hurt?" asked
the Tin Woodman,
in a soft,
sympathetic
voice.
"Not in the least," returned
the Saw-Horse; "but my pride
is injured to find that my anatomy
is so brittle."
For a time the little group
remained in silent thought. Presently
the Tin Woodman raised his head
and looked over the fields.
"What sort of creature is that
which approaches us?" he asked,
wonderingly.
The others followed his gaze,
and discovered coming toward
them the most extraordinary object
they had ever beheld. It advanced
quickly and noiselessly over
the soft grass and in a few minutes
stood before the adventurers
and regarded them with an astonishment
equal to their own.
The Scarecrow was calm under
all circumstances.
"Good morning!" he
said, politely.
The stranger removed his hat
with a flourish, bowed very low,
and then responded:
"Good
morning, one
and all. I
hope you are,
as an aggregation,
enjoying excellent health. Permit
me to present my card."
With this courteous speech
it extended a card toward the
Scarecrow, who accepted it, turned
it over and over, and handed
it with a shake of his head to
Tip.
The boy read aloud:
"MR.
H. M. WOGGLE-BUG,
T. E."
"Dear me!" ejaculated
the Pumpkinhead,
staring somewhat intently.
"How very peculiar!" said
the Tin Woodman.
Tip's eyes were round and wondering,
and the Saw-Horse uttered a sigh
and turned away its head.
"Are you really a Woggle-Bug?" enquired
the Scarecrow.
"Most certainly, my dear sir!" answered
the stranger, briskly. "Is not
my name upon the card?"
"It is," said the Scarecrow. "But
may I ask what 'H. M.' stands
for?"
"'H. M.' means Highly Magnified," returned
the Woggle-Bug, proudly.
"Oh, I see." The Scarecrow
viewed the stranger critically. "And
are you, in truth, highly magnified?"
"Sir," said the Woggle-Bug, "I
take you for a gentleman of judgment
and discernment. Does it not
occur to you that I am several
thousand times greater than any
Woggle-Bug you ever saw before?
Therefore it is plainly evident
that I am Highly Magnified, and
there is no good reason why you
should doubt the fact."
"Pardon me," returned the Scarecrow. "My
brains are slightly mixed since
I was last laundered. Would it
be improper for me to ask, also,
what the 'T.E.' at the end of
your name stands for?"
"Those letters express my degree," answered
the Woggle-Bug, with a condescending
smile. "To be more explicit,
the initials mean that I am Thoroughly
Educated."
"Oh!" said
the Scarecrow,
much relieved.
Tip
had not yet
taken his eyes
off this wonderful personage.
What he saw was a great, round,
buglike body supported upon two
slender legs which ended in delicate
feet -- the toes curling upward.
The body of the Woggle-Bug was
rather flat, and judging from
what could be seen of it was
of a glistening dark brown color
upon the back, while the front
was striped with alternate bands
of light brown and white, blending
together at the edges. Its arms
were fully as slender as its
legs, and upon a rather long
neck was perched its head --
not unlike the head of a man,
except that its nose ended in
a curling antenna, or "feeler," and
its ears from the upper points
bore antennae that decorated
the sides of its head like two
miniature, curling pig tails.
It must be admitted that the
round, black eyes were rather
bulging in appearance; but the
expression upon the Woggle-Bug's
face was by no means unpleasant.
For dress the insect wore a
dark-blue swallowtail coat with
a yellow silk lining and a flower
in the button-hole; a vest of
white duck that stretched tightly
across the wide body; knickerbockers
of fawn-colored plush, fastened
at the knees with gilt buckles;
and, perched upon its small head,
was jauntily set a tall silk
hat.
Standing upright before our
amazed friends the Woggle-Bug
appeared to be fully as tall
as the Tin Woodman; and surely
no bug in all the Land of Oz
had ever before attained so enormous
a size.
"I confess," said the Scarecrow, "that
your abrupt appearance has caused
me surprise, and no doubt has
startled my companions. I hope,
however, that this circumstance
will not distress you. We shall
probably get used to you in time."
"Do not apologize, I beg of
you!" returned the Woggle-Bug,
earnestly. "It affords me great
pleasure to surprise people;
for surely I cannot be classed
with ordinary insects and am
entitled to both curiosity and
admiration from those I meet."
"You are, indeed," agreed
his Majesty.
"If you will permit me to seat
myself in your august company," continued
the stranger, "I will gladly
relate my history, so that you
will be better able to comprehend
my unusual -- may I say remarkable?
-- appearance."
"You may say what you please," answered
the Tin Woodman, briefly.
So the Woggle-Bug sat down
upon the grass, facing the little
group of wanderers, and told
them the following story:
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