Trot and Pon covered many leagues of ground, searching through forests,
in fields and in many of the little villages of Jinxland, but could
find no trace of either Cap'n Bill or Button-Bright. Finally they
paused beside a cornfield and sat upon a stile to rest. Pon took some
apples from his pocket and gave one to Trot. Then he began eating
another himself, for this was their time for luncheon. When his apple
was finished Pon tossed the core into the field.
"Tchuk-tchuk!" said a strange voice. "What do you mean by hitting me in
the eye with an apple-core?"
Then rose up the form of the Scarecrow, who had hidden himself in the
cornfield while he examined Pon and Trot and decided whether they were
worthy to be helped.
"Excuse me," said Pon. "I didn't know you were there."
"How did you happen to be there, anyhow?" asked Trot.
The Scarecrow came forward with awkward steps and stood beside them.
"Ah, you are the gardener's boy," he said to Pon. Then he turned to
Trot. "And you are the little girl who came to Jinxland riding on a big
bird, and who has had the misfortune to lose her friend, Cap'n Bill,
and her chum, Button-Bright."
"Why, how did you know all that?" she inquired.
"I know a lot of things," replied the Scarecrow, winking at her
comically. "My brains are the Carefully-Assorted, Double-Distilled,
High-Efficiency sort that the Wizard of Oz makes. He admits, himself,
that my brains are the best he ever manufactured."
"I think I've heard of you," said Trot slowly, as she looked the
Scarecrow over with much interest; "but you used to live in the Land of
Oz."
"Oh, I do now," he replied cheerfully. "I've just come over the
mountains from the Quadling Country to see if I can be of any help to
you."
"Who, me?" asked Pon.
"No, the strangers from the big world. It seems they need looking
after."
"I'm doing that myself," said Pon, a little ungraciously. "If you will
pardon me for saying so, I don't see how a Scarecrow with painted eyes
can look after anyone."
"If you don't see that, you are more blind than the Scarecrow,"
asserted Trot. "He's a fairy man, Pon, and comes from the fairyland of
Oz, so he can do 'most anything. I hope," she added, turning to the
Scarecrow, "you can find Cap'n Bill for me."
"I will try, anyhow," he promised. "But who is that old woman who is
running toward us and shaking her stick at us?"
Trot and Pon turned around and both uttered an exclamation of fear. The
next instant they took to their heels and ran fast up the path. For it
was old Blinkie, the Wicked Witch, who had at last traced them to this
place. Her anger was so great that she was determined not to abandon
the chase of Pon and Trot until she had caught and punished them. The
Scarecrow understood at once that the old woman meant harm to his new
friends, so as she drew near he stepped before her. His appearance was
so sudden and unexpected that Blinkie ran into him and toppled him
over, but she tripped on his straw body and went rolling in the path
beside him.
The Scarecrow sat up and said: "I beg your pardon!" but she whacked him
with her stick and knocked him flat again. Then, furious with rage, the
old witch sprang upon her victim and began pulling the straw out of his
body. The poor Scarecrow was helpless to resist and in a few moments
all that was left of him was an empty suit of clothes and a heap of
straw beside it. Fortunately, Blinkie did not harm his head, for it
rolled into a little hollow and escaped her notice. Fearing that Pon
and Trot would escape her, she quickly resumed the chase and
disappeared over the brow of a hill, following the direction in which
she had seen them go.
Only a short time elapsed before a gray grasshopper with a wooden leg
came hopping along and lit directly on the upturned face of the
Scarecrow's head.
"Pardon me, but you are resting yourself upon my nose," remarked the
Scarecrow.
"Oh! are you alive?" asked the grasshopper.
"That is a question I have never been able to decide," said the
Scarecrow's head. "When my body is properly stuffed I have animation
and can move around as well as any live person. The brains in the head
you are now occupying as a throne, are of very superior quality and do
a lot of very clever thinking. But whether that is being alive, or not,
I cannot prove to you; for one who lives is liable to death, while I am
only liable to destruction."
"Seems to me," said the grasshopper, rubbing his nose with his front
legs, "that in your case it doesn't matter--unless you're destroyed
already."
"I am not; all I need is re-stuffing," declared the Scarecrow; "and if
Pon and Trot escape the witch, and come back here, I am sure they will
do me that favor."
"Tell me! Are Trot and Pon around here?" inquired the grasshopper, its
small voice trembling with excitement.
The Scarecrow did not answer at once, for both his eyes were staring
straight upward at a beautiful face that was slightly bent over his
head. It was, indeed, Princess Gloria, who had wandered to this spot,
very much surprised when she heard the Scarecrow's head talk and the
tiny gray grasshopper answer it.
"This," said the Scarecrow, still staring at her, "must be the Princess
who loves Pon, the gardener's boy."
"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed the grasshopper--who of course was Cap'n
Bill--as he examined the young lady curiously.
"No," said Gloria frigidly, "I do not love Pon, or anyone else, for the
Wicked Witch has frozen my heart."
"What a shame!" cried the Scarecrow. "One so lovely should be able to
love. But would you mind, my dear, stuffing that straw into my body
again?"
The dainty Princess glanced at the straw and at the well-worn blue
Munchkin clothes and shrank back in disdain. But she was spared from
refusing the Scarecrow's request by the appearance of Trot and Pon, who
had hidden in some bushes just over the brow of the hill and waited
until old Blinkie had passed them by. Their hiding place was on the
same side as the witch's blind eye, and she rushed on in the chase of
the girl and the youth without being aware that they had tricked her.
Trot was shocked at the Scarecrow's sad condition and at once began
putting the straw back into his body. Pon, at sight of Gloria, again
appealed to her to take pity on him, but the frozen-hearted Princess
turned coldly away and with a sigh the gardener's boy began to assist
Trot.
Neither of them at first noticed the small grasshopper, which at their
appearance had skipped off the Scarecrow's nose and was now clinging to
a wisp of grass beside the path, where he was not likely to be stepped
upon. Not until the Scarecrow had been neatly restuffed and set upon
his feet again--when he bowed to his restorers and expressed his
thanks--did the grasshopper move from his perch. Then he leaped lightly
into the path and called out:
"Trot--Trot! Look at me. I'm Cap'n Bill! See what the Wicked Witch has
done to me."
The voice was small, to be sure, but it reached Trot's ears and
startled her greatly. She looked intently at the grasshopper, her eyes
wide with fear at first; then she knelt down and, noticing the wooden
leg, she began to weep sorrowfully.
"Oh, Cap'n Bill--dear Cap'n Bill! What a cruel thing to do!" she sobbed.
"Don't cry, Trot," begged the grasshopper. "It didn't hurt any, and it
doesn't hurt now. But it's mighty inconvenient an' humiliatin', to say
the least."
"I wish," said the girl indignantly, while trying hard to restrain her
tears, "that I was big 'nough an' strong 'nough to give that horrid
witch a good beating. She ought to be turned into a toad for doing this
to you, Cap'n Bill!"
"Never mind," urged the Scarecrow, in a comforting voice, "such a
transformation doesn't last always, and as a general thing there's some
way to break the enchantment. I'm sure Glinda could do it, in a jiffy."
"Who is Glinda?" inquired Cap'n Bill.
Then the Scarecrow told them all about Glinda, not forgetting to
mention her beauty and goodness and her wonderful powers of magic. He
also explained how the Royal Sorceress had sent him to Jinxland
especially to help the strangers, whom she knew to be in danger because
of the wiles of the cruel King and the Wicked Witch.