  The Cowardly Lion's Quest Quite unconscious of Mustafa's evil plans for his capture, the Cowardly Lion of Oz paced to and fro on the wide veranda of the loveliest palace in Oz. It was early morning in the Emerald City, and Ozma and her court had not yet risen, but many of the palace pets were abroad and talking sociably together in the garden. Ozma's Saw Horse was running races with Hank, Betsy Bobbin's small mule, the Comfortable Camel and Doubtful Dromedary were ambling down the paths in their wobbly-kneed fashion, while Dorothy's little dog, Toto, and the Glass Cat were arguing over the Patchwork Girl's last verses. They all seemed happy and contented and the Cowardly Lion, noting this, sighed heavily. "Not one of them is ever afraid," he murmured sorrowfully. "I, of all creatures in Oz, am the only cowardly one." "What say?" The Cowardly Lion jumped, as he always did at an unexpected sound, then gave a little roar of relief as the Soldier with the Green Whiskers stepped out from behind a pillar. "What say?" repeated the Soldier, putting down his gun which was never loaded, and regarding the Cowardly Lion inquiringly. "I was saying that I am the only cowardly person in Oz." "Well, you can fight, can't you?" The Soldier tugged his green whiskers thoughtfully as he asked this question. "Now, I am a very brave man, but I can never fight, so there you are." This was perfectly true. The Soldier with the Green Whiskers, who was Ozma's entire army, never was afraid, but he always ran at the first sign of danger. While the Cowardly Lion trembled terribly as enemies approached, he always fought until he overcame them. "So what's the difference," said the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, shouldering his gun and marching down the steps. "You feel cowardly and act bravely. I feel brave and act cowardly." "It makes a great difference to me," mumbled the Cowardly Lion. "I want to feel brave. Oh, if only once I could feel brave!" Shaking his mane mournfully, he padded down the steps after the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, and soon came upon the Comfortable Camel and Doubtful Dromedary, who were swaying idly under a tall breakfast tree. "Morning," wheezed the Comfortable Camel, twitching his crooked nose. "Handsome as ever, I see." "I doubt that, Camy," said the Doubtful Dromedary, eying the Cowardly Lion solemnly. "He's always doubting things," smiled the Comfortable Camel, rolling his large, limpid eyes. "Now, I never do." "He's right this time. I'm not handsome at all; no coward could be handsome," said the lion gruffly, flinging himself on the ground beside the strange pair. "Ah, if I could only feel courageous!" "You're nice as you are, you dear cowardly old thing," snorted the camel, wagging his head affectionately. "Why, if you were brave, you would be just like any other lion. It's being cowardly that makes you so interesting." "I'd rather be brave than interesting," rumbled the lion sadly. "You know perfectly well that courage is the finest thing in the world." "I doubt that," put in the dromedary, shifting a mouthful of grass from one cheek to the other, "I doubt that very much." "What's the matter?" cried the Patchwork Girl, bouncing out merrily from the other side of the tree. "You all sound as solemn as Pokes!" The Patchwork Girl is a great favorite in the Emerald City. She was made long ago by a magician's wife and brought to life by the powder of life. But Ojo, a little Munchkin boy, who happened to be present while the magician was mixing Scrap's brains, put in a large portion of cleverness and curiosity while the old wizard's back was turned, so that instead of being a good and obedient servant as the wizard had intended her to be, the Patchwork Girl was full of fun and mischief. Indeed, she refused to be a servant at all, and ran off to the Emerald City, where Ozma has allowed her to live ever since. The Emerald City is the capital of Oz and located in the exact center of that great and magic wonderland. Its palace of green marble and emeralds, its flowering gardens and quaint green cottages make it the loveliest of all fairy cities, and so many strange and delightful people live there it is the most interesting place you could imagine. First in interest is Ozma, the fairy ruler of Oz. No one could help loving her. Then there is Dorothy, who has had more adventures than any little girl you have ever heard of and who prefers to be a Princess in Oz to returning to her old home in Kansas. There is Tik Tok, a marvelous machine man who is bright as the copper that he is made of, and who can think, walk and work when properly wound. And there's the Scarecrow, as lively and accomplished a gentleman as ever advised a Queen. Oh, think of a live Scarecrow! There's Jack Pumpkinhead, made entirely of wood, excepting his pumpkin head, and there's Sir Hokus of Pokes, a knight so many centuries old that only in Oz could he be alive at all. There's the Tin Woodman, Emperor of the Winkies, who comes often to the capital to visit his old friends. There are hundreds of the gentle Oz folk, who live in the little green cottages and bow politely when friends pass. There are the magnificent courtiers and palace servants, ready at a moment's notice to pass round lemonade, while the Scarecrow dishes out Oz-cream and cake. And last but not least there are the amusing animals who have come to live in the royal stables. No wonder everyone is anxious to visit the Emerald City. If I could just find a magic umbrella or a handy cyclone I would go myself. Why, it would be worth the journey just to hear the Cowardly Lion and Comfortable Camel talking together like old cronies. The Comfortable Camel and the Doubtful Dromedary were recently discovered by Sir Hokus of Pokes and Dorothy, and are comparative new comers in the Emerald City, but the Cowardly Lion was one of the very first of the Oz creatures to arrive at the capital and is a prime favorite with everyone from Princess Dorothy to the royal cook. In the palace the Scarecrow dishes out the Oz-cream and cake But all the time I've been telling you this, the conversation under the breakfast tree has been growing more interesting. "I thought the Wizard of Oz gave you a large dose of courage when you first came here," drawled the camel, looking anxiously up at the Patchwork Girl, who was swinging head down from the breakfast tree. "He did," mourned the Cowardly Lion dreamily, "but it has worn off and, though he has tried and tried, he can't seem to mix up any more." "What is courage? Does it grow Like potatoes in a row? Don't ask me for I don't know!" shouted Scraps, the Patchwork Girl, diving suddenly from the tree top and bouncing upon the Doubtful Dromedary. Being stuffed with cotton made Scraps very daring. "I've a hunch," began the Comfortable Camel, very much relieved that the Patchwork Girl had fallen on his friend. "Where? On your back?" screamed Scraps, flinging her arms about his neck. "I've a hunch," continued the camel calmly, paying no attention at all to the Patchwork Girl, "that courage isn't the way you feel, but the way you act. As you always act bravely, why worry about the way you feel?" "But you never felt as frightened as I feel," objected the Cowardly Lion. "His knees do quake, His teeth do chatter, His big old heart goes pitter patter! But what's the odds— Though stiff with fright He still can fight with mane and might!" cried Scraps, sitting down with a thud. "The more mane the more might," she finished brilliantly. "So rub some tonic on your brain And just increase your might and mane!" "I doubt that," mumbled the Doubtful Dromedary, looking at Scraps reprovingly. "There might be something in it," said the camel, chewing a wisp of grass in his slow precise fashion. "My mane is a little thin," mused the Cowardly Lion, rubbing it thoughtfully with his paw. "If I were you," said the Patchwork Girl, rising unsteadily, "I should find a very brave person and then eat him up. That ought to give you a big dose of courage." "I doubt that," said the Doubtful Dromedary sharply. "Think how uncomfortable it would be for the poor brave person," sighed the camel. "My dear, I am afraid you have no heart." "Of course I have no heart," cried Scraps, starting to run down the path, "but I have a marvelous head." The Comfortable Camel sighed and glanced uneasily at the Cowardly Lion. The Cowardly Lion had a far-away look in his eye, as if Scraps' naughty suggestion had given him an idea, and it was not long before he made some excuse to get away from the two gentle creatures. He wanted to think. After all, why should he, the most famous lion in all Oz, forever be called cowardly? He would tell no one, but he would go off on a long journey and perhaps—even to himself the Cowardly Lion did not say it, but the idea of swallowing a brave person did seem a reasonable way to acquire courage. "I need never tell little Dorothy," muttered the great beast uncomfortably, "but how proud she will be when I return full of courage!" He slipped noiselessly out of the quiet, lovely garden and, avoiding the yellow brick road, struck off through a deep forest toward the Munchkin Country to the south. Many brave woodcutters live in the Munchkin forests, and the Cowardly Lion was resolved darkly to swallow the bravest of them, ax and all. "If only my cowardly heart does not fail me at the last moment," he groaned nervously, as he went crackling through the heavy underbrush. "I could swallow one whole, and that oughtn't to hurt much." Already his kind, cowardly, comfortable old heart was beginning to quake at the thought of swallowing a woodcutter. But, arguing and rumbling to himself, he continued his race toward the south. By the time the castle clocks chimed eight, he was miles and miles away from the safe and delightful Emerald City of Oz. |
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