Approaching the gateway of the Emerald City the travelers found it
guarded by two girls of the Army of Revolt, who opposed their entrance
by drawing the knitting-needles from their hair and threatening to prod
the first that came near.
But the Tin Woodman was not afraid.
“At the worst they can but scratch my beautiful nickel-plate,” he said.
“But there will be no ‘worst,’ for I think I can manage to frighten
these absurd soldiers very easily. Follow me closely, all of you!”
Then, swinging his axe in a great circle to right and left before him,
he advanced upon the gate, and the others followed him without
hesitation.
The girls, who had expected no resistance whatever, were terrified by
the sweep of the glittering axe and fled screaming into the city; so
that our travelers passed the gates in safety and marched down the
green marble pavement of the wide street toward the royal palace.
“At this rate we will soon have your Majesty upon the throne again,”
said the Tin Woodman, laughing at his easy conquest of the guards.
“Thank you, friend Nick,” returned the Scarecrow, gratefully. “Nothing
can resist your kind heart and your sharp axe.”
As they passed the rows of houses they saw through the open doors that
men were sweeping and dusting and washing dishes, while the women sat
around in groups, gossiping and laughing.
“What has happened?” the Scarecrow asked a sad-looking man with a bushy
beard, who wore an apron and was wheeling a baby-carriage along the
sidewalk.
“Why, we’ve had a revolution, your Majesty as you ought to know very
well,” replied the man; “and since you went away the women have been
running things to suit themselves. I’m glad you have decided to come
back and restore order, for doing housework and minding the children is
wearing out the strength of every man in the Emerald City.”
“Hm!” said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully. “If it is such hard work as you
say, how did the women manage it so easily?”
“I really do not know” replied the man, with a deep sigh. “Perhaps the
women are made of castiron.”
No movement was made, as they passed along the street, to oppose their
progress. Several of the women stopped their gossip long enough to cast
curious looks upon our friends, but immediately they would turn away
with a laugh or a sneer and resume their chatter. And when they met
with several girls belonging to the Army of Revolt, those soldiers,
instead of being alarmed or appearing surprised, merely stepped out of
the way and allowed them to advance without protest.
This action rendered the Scarecrow uneasy.
“I’m afraid we are walking into a trap,” said he.
“Nonsense!” returned Nick Chopper, confidently; “the silly creatures
are conquered already!”
But the Scarecrow shook his head in a way that expressed doubt, and Tip
said:
[Illustration: image192]
“It’s too easy, altogether. Look out for trouble ahead.”
“I will,” returned his Majesty. Unopposed they reached the royal palace
and marched up the marble steps, which had once been thickly crusted
with emeralds but were now filled with tiny holes where the jewels had
been ruthlessly torn from their settings by the Army of Revolt. And so
far not a rebel barred their way.
Through the arched hallways and into the magnificent throne room
marched the Tin Woodman and his followers, and here, when the green
silken curtains fell behind them, they saw a curious sight.
Seated within the glittering throne was General Jinjur, with the
Scarecrow’s second-best crown upon her head, and the royal sceptre in
her right hand. A box of caramels, from which she was eating, rested in
her lap, and the girl seemed entirely at ease in her royal
surroundings.
The Scarecrow stepped forward and confronted her, while the Tin Woodman
leaned upon his axe and the others formed a half-circle back of his
Majesty’s person.
“How dare you sit in my throne?” demanded the Scarecrow, sternly eyeing
the intruder. “Don’t you know you are guilty of treason, and that there
is a law against treason?”
“The throne belongs to whoever is able to take it,” answered Jinjur, as
she slowly ate another caramel. “I have taken it, as you see; so just
now I am the Queen, and all who oppose me are guilty of treason, and
must be punished by the law you have just mentioned.”
This view of the case puzzled the Scarecrow.
“How is it, friend Nick?” he asked, turning to the Tin Woodman.
“Why, when it comes to Law, I have nothing to, say” answered that
personage. “for laws were never meant to be understood, and it is
foolish to make the attempt.”
“Then what shall we do?” asked the Scarecrow, in dismay.
“Why don’t you marry the Queen? And then you can both rule,” suggested
the Woggle-Bug.
Jinjur glared at the insect fiercely. “Why don’t you send her back to
her mother, where she belongs?” asked Jack Pumpkinhead.
Jinjur frowned.
“Why don’t you shut her up in a closet until she behaves herself, and
promises to be good?” enquired Tip. Jinjur’s lip curled scornfully.
“Or give her a good shaking!” added the Saw-Horse.
“No,” said the Tin Woodman, “we must treat the poor girl with
gentleness. Let us give her all the Jewels she can carry, and send her
away happy and contented.”
[Illustration: image195]
At this Queen Jinjur laughed aloud, and the next minute clapped her
pretty hands together thrice, as if for a signal.
“You are very absurd creatures,” said she; “but I am tired of your
nonsense and have no time to bother with you longer.”
While the monarch and his friends listened in amazement to this
impudent speech, a startling thing happened. The Tin Woodman’s axe was
snatched from his grasp by some person behind him, and he found himself
disarmed and helpless. At the same instant a shout of laughter rang in
the ears of the devoted band, and turning to see whence this came they
found themselves surrounded by the Army of Revolt, the girls bearing in
either hand their glistening knitting-needles. The entire throne room
seemed to be filled with the rebels, and the Scarecrow and his comrades
realized that they were prisoners.
“You see how foolish it is to oppose a woman’s wit,” said Jinjur,
gaily; “and this event only proves that I am more fit to rule the
Emerald City than a Scarecrow. I bear you no ill will, I assure you;
but lest you should prove troublesome to me in the future I shall order
you all to be destroyed. That is, all except the boy, who belongs to
old Mombi and must be restored to her keeping. The rest of you are not
human, and therefore it will not be wicked to demolish you. The
Saw-Horse and the Pumpkinhead’s body I will have chopped up for
kindling-wood; and the pumpkin shall be made into tarts. The Scarecrow
will do nicely to start a bonfire, and the tin man can be cut into
small pieces and fed to the goats. As for this immense Woggle-Bug—”
“Highly Magnified, if you please!” interrupted the insect.
“I think I will ask the cook to make green-turtle soup of you,”
continued the Queen, reflectively.
The Woggle-Bug shuddered.
“Or, if that won’t do, we might use you for a Hungarian goulash, stewed
and highly spiced,” she added, cruelly.
This programme of extermination was so terrible that the prisoners
looked upon one another in a panic of fear. The Scarecrow alone did not
give way to despair. He stood quietly before the Queen and his brow was
wrinkled in deep thought as he strove to find some means to escape.
While thus engaged he felt the straw within his breast move gently. At
once his expression changed from sadness to joy, and raising his hand
he quickly unbuttoned the front of his jacket.
This action did not pass unnoticed by the crowd of girls clustering
about him, but none of them suspected what he was doing until a tiny
grey mouse leaped from his bosom to the floor and scampered away
between the feet of the Army of Revolt. Another mouse quickly followed;
then another and another, in rapid succession. And suddenly such a
scream of terror went up from the Army that it might easily have filled
the stoutest heart with consternation. The flight that ensued turned to
a stampede, and the stampede to a panic.
For while the startled mice rushed wildly about the room the Scarecrow
had only time to note a whirl of skirts and a twinkling of feet as the
girls disappeared from the palace—pushing and crowding one another in
their mad efforts to escape.
The Queen, at the first alarm, stood up on the cushions of the throne
and began to dance frantically upon her tiptoes. Then a mouse ran up
the cushions, and with a terrified leap poor Jinjur shot clear over the
head of the Scarecrow and escaped through an archway—never pausing in
her wild career until she had reached the city gates.
So, in less time than I can explain, the throne room was deserted by
all save the Scarecrow and his friends, and the Woggle-Bug heaved a
deep sigh of relief as he exclaimed:
“Thank goodness, we are saved!”
“For a time, yes;” answered the Tin Woodman. “But the enemy will soon
return, I fear.”
“Let us bar all the entrances to the palace!” said the Scarecrow. “Then
we shall have time to think what is best to be done.”
So all except Jack Pumpkinhead, who was still tied fast to the
Saw-Horse, ran to the various entrances of the royal palace and closed
the heavy doors, bolting and locking them securely. Then, knowing that
the Army of Revolt could not batter down the barriers in several days,
the adventurers gathered once more in the throne room for a council of
war.
[Illustration: image201]
[Illustration: image202]
[Illustration: image203]