She was awakened by a shock,
so sudden and severe that if
Dorothy had not been lying on
the soft bed she might have been
hurt. As it was, the jar made
her catch her breath and wonder
what had happened; and Toto put
his cold little nose into her
face and whined dismally. Dorothy
sat up and noticed that the house
was not moving; nor was it dark,
for the bright sunshine came
in at the window, flooding the
little room. She sprang from
her bed and with Toto at her
heels ran and opened the door.
The little girl gave a cry
of amazement and looked about
her, her eyes growing bigger
and bigger at the wonderful sights
she saw.
The cyclone had set the house
down very gently--for a cyclone--in
the midst of a country of marvelous
beauty. There were lovely patches
of greensward all about, with
stately trees bearing rich and
luscious fruits. Banks of gorgeous
flowers were on every hand, and
birds with rare and brilliant
plumage sang and fluttered in
the trees and bushes. A little
way off was a small brook, rushing
and sparkling along between green
banks, and murmuring in a voice
very grateful to a little girl
who had lived so long on the
dry, gray prairies.
While she stood looking eagerly
at the strange and beautiful
sights, she noticed coming toward
her a group of the queerest people
she had ever seen. They were
not as big as the grown folk
she had always been used to;
but neither were they very small.
In fact, they seemed about as
tall as Dorothy, who was a well-grown
child for her age, although they
were, so far as looks go, many
years older.
Three were men and one a woman,
and all were oddly dressed. They
wore round hats that rose to
a small point a foot above their
heads, with little bells around
the brims that tinkled sweetly
as they moved. The hats of the
men were blue; the little woman's
hat was white, and she wore a
white gown that hung in pleats
from her shoulders. Over it were
sprinkled little stars that glistened
in the sun like diamonds. The
men were dressed in blue, of
the same shade as their hats,
and wore well-polished boots
with a deep roll of blue at the
tops. The men, Dorothy thought,
were about as old as Uncle Henry,
for two of them had beards. But
the little woman was doubtless
much older. Her face was covered
with wrinkles, her hair was nearly
white, and she walked rather
stiffly.
When these people drew near
the house where Dorothy was standing
in the doorway, they paused and
whispered among themselves, as
if afraid to come farther. But
the little old woman walked up
to Dorothy, made a low bow and
said, in a sweet voice:
"You are welcome,
most noble Sorceress, to the
land of the
Munchkins. We are so grateful
to you for having killed the
Wicked Witch of the East, and
for setting our people free from
bondage."
Dorothy listened to this speech
with wonder. What could the little
woman possibly mean by calling
her a sorceress, and saying she
had killed the Wicked Witch of
the East? Dorothy was an innocent,
harmless little girl, who had
been carried by a cyclone many
miles from home; and she had
never killed anything in all
her life.
But the little
woman evidently expected her
to answer; so Dorothy
said, with hesitation, "You are
very kind, but there must be
some mistake. I have not killed
anything."
"Your house did, anyway," replied
the little old woman, with a
laugh, "and that is the same
thing. See!" she continued, pointing
to the corner of the house. "There
are her two feet, still sticking
out from under a block of wood."
Dorothy looked, and gave a
little cry of fright. There,
indeed, just under the corner
of the great beam the house rested
on, two feet were sticking out,
shod in silver shoes with pointed
toes.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" cried
Dorothy, clasping her hands together
in dismay. "The house must have
fallen on her. Whatever shall
we do?"
"There is nothing to be done," said
the little woman calmly.
"But who was she?" asked
Dorothy.
"She was the Wicked Witch of
the East, as I said," answered
the little woman. "She has held
all the Munchkins in bondage
for many years, making them slave
for her night and day. Now they
are all set free, and are grateful
to you for the favor."
"Who are the Munchkins?" inquired
Dorothy.
"They are the
people who live in this land
of the East where
the Wicked Witch ruled."
"Are you a Munchkin?" asked
Dorothy.
"No, but I
am their friend, although I
live in the land of
the North. When they saw the
Witch of the East was dead the
Munchkins sent a swift messenger
to me, and I came at once. I
am the Witch of the North."
"Oh, gracious!" cried Dorothy. "Are
you a real witch?"
"Yes, indeed," answered the
little woman. "But I am a good
witch, and the people love me.
I am not as powerful as the Wicked
Witch was who ruled here, or
I should have set the people
free myself."
"But I thought all witches
were wicked," said the girl,
who was half frightened at facing
a real witch. "Oh, no, that is
a great mistake. There were only
four witches in all the Land
of Oz, and two of them, those
who live in the North and the
South, are good witches. I know
this is true, for I am one of
them myself, and cannot be mistaken.
Those who dwelt in the East and
the West were, indeed, wicked
witches; but now that you have
killed one of them, there is
but one Wicked Witch in all the
Land of Oz--the one who lives
in the West."
"But," said Dorothy, after
a moment's thought, "Aunt Em
has told me that the witches
were all dead--years and years
ago."
"Who is Aunt Em?" inquired
the little old woman.
"She is my
aunt who lives in Kansas, where
I came from."
The Witch of
the North seemed to think for
a time, with her
head bowed and her eyes upon
the ground. Then she looked up
and said, "I do not know where
Kansas is, for I have never heard
that country mentioned before.
But tell me, is it a civilized
country?"
"Oh, yes," replied
Dorothy.
"Then that
accounts for it. In the civilized
countries I
believe there are no witches
left, nor wizards, nor sorceresses,
nor magicians. But, you see,
the Land of Oz has never been
civilized, for we are cut off
from all the rest of the world.
Therefore we still have witches
and wizards amongst us."
"Who are the wizards?" asked
Dorothy.
"Oz himself is the Great Wizard," answered
the Witch, sinking her voice
to a whisper. "He is more powerful
than all the rest of us together.
He lives in the City of Emeralds."
Dorothy was going to ask another
question, but just then the Munchkins,
who had been standing silently
by, gave a loud shout and pointed
to the corner of the house where
the Wicked Witch had been lying.
"What is it?" asked
the little old woman, and looked,
and began
to laugh. The feet of the dead
Witch had disappeared entirely,
and nothing was left but the
silver shoes.
"She was so old," explained
the Witch of the North, that
she dried up quickly in the sun.
That is the end of her. But the
silver shoes are yours, and you
shall have them to wear." She
reached down and picked up the
shoes, and after shaking the
dust out of them handed them
to Dorothy.
"The Witch of the East was
proud of those silver shoes," said
one of the Munchkins, "and there
is some charm connected with
them; but what it is we never
knew."
Dorothy carried the shoes into
the house and placed them on
the table. Then she came out
again to the Munchkins and said:
"I am anxious
to get back to my aunt and
uncle, for I am sure
they will worry about me. Can
you help me find my way?"
The Munchkins and the Witch
first looked at one another,
and then at Dorothy, and then
shook their heads.
"At the East, not far from
here," said one, "there is a
great desert, and none could
live to cross it."
"It is the same at the South," said
another, "for I have been there
and seen it. The South is the
country of the Quadlings."
"I am told," said the third
man, "that it is the same at
the West. And that country, where
the Winkies live, is ruled by
the Wicked Witch of the West,
who would make you her slave
if you passed her way."
"The North is my home," said
the old lady, "and at its edge
is the same great desert that
surrounds this Land of Oz. I'm
afraid, my dear, you will have
to live with us."
Dorothy began
to sob at this, for she felt
lonely among all
these strange people. Her tears
seemed to grieve the kind-hearted
Munchkins, for they immediately
took out their handkerchiefs
and began to weep also. As for
the little old woman, she took
off her cap and balanced the
point on the end of her nose,
while she counted "One, two,
three" in a solemn voice. At
once the cap changed to a slate,
on which was written in big,
white chalk marks:
"LET DOROTHY
GO TO THE CITY OF EMERALDS"
The little
old woman took the slate from
her nose, and having
read the words on it, asked, "Is
your name Dorothy, my dear?"
"Yes," answered
the child, looking up and drying
her tears.
"Then you must
go to the City of Emeralds.
Perhaps Oz will
help you."
"Where is this city?" asked
Dorothy.
"It is exactly
in the center of the country,
and is ruled
by Oz, the Great Wizard I told
you of."
"Is he a good man?" inquired
the girl anxiously.
"He is a good
Wizard. Whether he is a man
or not I cannot tell,
for I have never seen him."
"How can I get there?" asked
Dorothy.
"You must walk.
It is a long journey, through
a country that
is sometimes pleasant and sometimes
dark and terrible. However, I
will use all the magic arts I
know of to keep you from harm."
"Won't you go with me?" pleaded
the girl, who had begun to look
upon the little old woman as
her only friend.
"No, I cannot do that," she
replied, "but I will give you
my kiss, and no one will dare
injure a person who has been
kissed by the Witch of the North."
She came close to Dorothy and
kissed her gently on the forehead.
Where her lips touched the girl
they left a round, shining mark,
as Dorothy found out soon after.
"The road to the City of Emeralds
is paved with yellow brick," said
the Witch, "so you cannot miss
it. When you get to Oz do not
be afraid of him, but tell your
story and ask him to help you.
Good-bye, my dear."
The three Munchkins bowed low
to her and wished her a pleasant
journey, after which they walked
away through the trees. The Witch
gave Dorothy a friendly little
nod, whirled around on her left
heel three times, and straightway
disappeared, much to the surprise
of little Toto, who barked after
her loudly enough when she had
gone, because he had been afraid
even to growl while she stood
by.
But Dorothy, knowing her to
be a witch, had expected her
to disappear in just that way,
and was not surprised in the
least.
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