  For several hours Pigasus flew without slackening his pace. Then, as several suspicious little yawns and sighs floated past his keen upstanding ears, he solemnly slanted downward. If he had chosen it on purpose he could not have found a more comfortable place for Dorothy to spend the night. They had already crossed the border and penetrated far into the Land of the Winkies, and were now landing in the quiet garden of a prosperous Winkie farmer. Set in the center of a dancing bed of yellow daffodils and tulips stood a small summer house, and with Dorothy rubbing her eyes sleepily, Pigasus trotted briskly into the rustic cottage. The door was invitingly open and the moon lit up its cozy one-roomed interior. Snorting with satisfaction, Pigasus pattered over to a broad couch piled high with yellow cushions and, rolling drowsily from his back, Dorothy burrowed contentedly into the center of them, falling asleep before the pig reached his own bed, a soft woolly rug on the hearth. Pigasus slept lightly but well, and waking around six began to gaze rather anxiously at the round yellow farm buildings just visible from the door. The pink pig had had several unfortunate experiences with farmers. They had a way of looking at his plump body that seemed to reduce him at once to slices of bacon and sides of ham. One enterprising fellow had actually caught him and shut him up in an untidy pen. From this foolish prison Pigasus had escaped by spreading his wings and flying away, but the mere mention of farmer gave him the shivers. So now, moving impatiently about the little room, he waited for Dorothy to awaken, and as she continued to slumber on, he flew up over the mantel and swept a large yellow jug to the floor with his wing. The crash of the falling jar aroused Dorothy at once, and without stopping to explain, Pigasus suggested that they start off, and Dorothy, not even noticing the broken jug, readily consented. "We'll probably find a much better place to have breakfast as we fly along," murmured Pigasus as Dorothy seated herself between his wings, holding her small basket of supplies in her lap. "Would it do any harm to stop at the farm And enquire about Ozma and spread the alarm?" asked Dorothy, who had rather counted on a cheerful breakfast at the farm house. "No, it wouldn't do any harm," answered Pigasus, rising in a straight line from the tulip bed and winging rapidly over the yellow fields and fences, "but neither would it do any good. Farmers never know what's happening or going to happen. I tell you, though, we'll ask the first person we meet." "Who would we meet in the air but a bird? Now really Pigasus, that's simply absurd." "Some of the smartest people I know are birds," insisted the pig stoutly. "Take Roger, for instance, he knows more than most of us have forgotten. But look! A brook, a quiet wood! Stop! Listen! Look! For I crave food!" Making a swift downward curve, Pigasus landed cleverly by a rippling stream edged by some tall butternut trees. There were yellow raspberries along the bank and the berries, with some of the sandwiches Dorothy had brought with her, washed down by cool water from the brook made a splendid breakfast. "I wonder whether they'll have the tableaux and pageant without me," sighed Dorothy, biting slowly into a sardine sandwich, "and how'll they manage the circus without you, Piggins, or the picnic supper without Ozma, or the magic and fireworks without the Wizard." "They've probably forgotten all about today's doings," mumbled Pigasus, nosing busily among the leaves for ripe butternuts. "They'll probably spend the time bumping their noses on the floor when that fat Emperor comes waddling through the palace, and bending the right knee every time his white horse sneezes or coughs. Pah!" Choking with indignation, Pigasus began gobbling up so many butternuts, Dorothy feared he would never be able to fly or walk again. "Let's stay on the ground for awhile," she proposed, eyeing him rather nervously as she packed the remaining sandwiches neatly back in the basket. "I believe there's a path beyond those trees. Maybe it leads to a town or village where we may meet someone who can tell us what we want to know." "You don't expect to find out where Ozma and the others are hidden—straight off, do you?" Rubbing his back lazily against one of the butternut trees, Pigasus looked quizzically at his earnest little companion. "No, I don't really expect that," said Dorothy, slipping the basket over her arm, "but it would be pretty nice if we met somebody who even remembered them, after all we've been through." "I can hardly remember them myself unless you are sitting on my back," admitted the pink pig, trotting soberly along at her side. "This Emperor's magic must be strong medicine. Hello! Here comes a fisherman." Pigasus pricked up both ears and his wings. "Shall I question him or will you?" Without bothering to answer, Dorothy ran eagerly toward the tall Winkie who was coming leisurely along the path. He carried a basket and had a fishing rod over his shoulder, and though his clothes were rough, Dorothy could tell by his manner and bearing that he was a person of some importance. "Oh, please, Mr. Winkie," cried the little girl as he nodded politely and would have passed them without stopping, "could you tell us who is King here?" "King?" answered the fisherman, taking his pipe out of his mouth and looking kindly down at his small questioner. "Why, no one in particular, my dear, but of course, we Winkies and the inhabitants of the three other countries of Oz are governed from the capital by Emperor Skamperoo, a great fellow, our Emp, and have you seen his white horse?" "Yes, I've seen it," said Dorothy, shutting her mouth rather grimly. "But I thought Ozma was Queen?" wheezed Pigasus out of breath from running after Dorothy and too many butternuts. "Ozma? What a curious name," mused the fisherman, looking pensively at the winged pig. "What gave you the idea that Ozma was our ruler? Perhaps you are strangers here?" "Well, it would seem so," puffed Pigasus, sitting down and panting a little from sheer discouragement. "Oh, you'll get used to us," laughed the fisherman with a breezy wave. "Fine country, this; sorry I can't show you 'round, but as I've promised my wife some fish for dinner, I'll have to be moving along. Good day to you. Good day, little girl!" "Good day," echoed Dorothy in a rather flat voice, as the fisherman, lifting his hat, strode briskly into the wood. "You see!" she groaned. "Even here everyone is bewitched. Oh, Piggins, what'll we do? No one in Oz will help or believe us." "Goose-tea and turnips! What if they don't!" Pigasus shook his head impatiently. "There are other countries, aren't there? Take Ev, for instance, or Rinkitink, or the Rose Kingdom. Why, there are lots of places whose rulers will remember Ozma, my poor old friend Jinnicky and the others. Come along, my girl, we've only just started. "While people roar for the Emperor We'll seek our rightful ruler From coast to coast from door to door Though foes grow cruel and crueller! "What we need is some magic," finished Pigasus shrewdly. "Know a good place to look for some?" "The Gnome King has plenty of magic," reflected Dorothy, leaning thoughtfully against a tree, "and Ozma and I really helped put him on the throne, so surely he'll help us." "Well, maybe, but I don't set great store by gnomes. They're tricky, nevertheless we'll go to Ev and everywhere else till we restore this country to its proper rulers." Pigasus looked so impressive with his chest and cheeks puffed out with purpose, Dorothy gave him a quick hug. "Down with the Emperor!" snorted Pigasus, though almost suffocated by Dorothy's embrace. "And up with you, my patriotic young Princess." "Now you make me feel like a real one. I'd almost forgotten I was a Princess," smiled Dorothy, climbing obediently on his back. "I believe everything will be better from now on." "Well, it could be a lot worse," chuckled Pigasus, and flapping his wings in a business-like manner, he rose gracefully into the air and headed for the east. Rolling hills dotted with castles, villages and towns, valleys, farm lands and forests flashed in an ever-changing pleasant panorama below. At noon they came down beside the Winkie River, finished up the rest of the sandwiches for lunch, and then looked eagerly around for someone else to question. But the yellow-bearded ferryman who presently came into sight poling his old-fashioned raft across the turbulent river knew no more of Ozma and the other rulers of Oz than the fisherman. But he told them many long and boring stories of Skamperoo and his white horse Chalk. Dorothy and Pigasus had to make such an effort to listen politely they were relieved when he finally shoved off and began poling himself back to the other side. "Have you any idea how far we've come?" asked Pigasus, rolling over and over in the cool grass as Dorothy made a face at the ferryman's back. "Yes," said Dorothy, dropping full length beside him. "This river is in about the center of the Winkie Kingdom, so we are easily half way. We could reach the Deadly Desert by night, fly over tomorrow morning, and either go North to Ev or stop at the underground castle of the Gnome King. Even if Kalico won't lend us his army, he might lend us some magic." "Speaking of armies, they must have whisked the soldier with the green whiskers off with the others. I don't remember seeing him after he left the banquet hall, do you? Which just goes to show this Skamperoo must be a stranger in Oz, for who else would have been afraid of our precious old army? Why, he wouldn't even tread on a caterpillar. By the way, has Kalico any magic that might tell us where to look for our vanished friends and rulers?" "I'm not sure of that," Dorothy told him dubiously, "but he has a wizard, and Ruggedo who was King before Kalico had many magic treasures and powers. He could make floors and walls spin round and round, open yawning caverns at your feet or drop rocks down on your head without even moving." "Sounds lovely," sniffed Pigasus, coming to his feet with a short grunt. "Say, haven't we trouble enough at home without going to look for it? Do you really propose to visit this tricky little metal monarch?" "But Kalico is not nearly so bad as Ruggedo." Dorothy sat up and smoothed her dress earnestly. "Well, just as you wish," Pigasus shrugged his wings, "with me, people are like eggs, either good, or bad. There's no such thing as a nearly good egg, it's got to be completely good or it's just as bad as a bad egg. D'ye see? And if this Gnome King is only as good as a nearly fresh egg, I wouldn't trust him with my second best tooth brush. My idea would be to go to the ruler of Ev." "That's Evardo, a boy King. Ozma helped him, too," Dorothy explained importantly. "But I tell you, Piggins, let's not decide till we cross the Deadly Desert. Something might turn up before then. You never can tell." "No," agreed the pig, shaking his head sagely. "In Oz, you never can. Suppose we continue a ways on foot? My wings are a bit stiff and we really should be on the lookout for a friendly house or castle where we could have supper and spend the night. I could eat a peck of spinach or a bushel of apples right now, so hop up, my dear, and I'll stretch a leg for the good of the coz and Oz!" Chattering away like the good fellow he was, Pigasus trotted briskly across the fields and presently came to a deep rustling forest. "Shall we fly over or walk through?" questioned the pig, sniffing appreciatively the cool air drifting out to them. "Let's go through it, in a wood There might be witches, some are good, A good witch with her magic powers Could solve this mystery of ours!" "But suppose we meet a bad one," muttered Pigasus, stepping gingerly into the forest and picking his way with great care between the giant trees. "Then we'll say goodbye and simply fly," laughed Dorothy, snapping her fingers joyfully. "Yes, but flying would not be so easy in here," objected Pigasus with a troubled glance aloft, "these branches are interlocked so closely I'd stick in a tree like a kite." "Oh, we probably won't meet anyone," said Dorothy. Slipping off his back, she walked along beside him, one arm flung cozily around his neck. She was rather tired of making verses and thought she could think better if her head were not continually buzzing with rhymes. After the hot sunny meadows the cool shade of the forest was very welcome, but as they advanced farther and farther into the shadows, it grew so dark and grim the two began to look at each other in real alarm. "Must be a squall or thunder shower brewing," observed Pigasus in a faint voice. "Yes, it couldn't be night time so soon," agreed Dorothy, looking fearfully over her shoulder. The crackling of twigs as some large animal made its way through the brush sounded like gun fire, and while they were trying to make up their minds whether to run back or push forward, a long hollow roar sent them scittering forward practically as one. Missing trees by mere inches, they pelted at breakneck speed into the dense and even gloomier stretch of woodland ahead. "B-b-b-better climb on my back," directed Pigasus, halting at last from lack of breath rather than inclination. "But where are you? I can't even see you!" wailed Dorothy, feeling about wildly. "Here, here," grunted the frantic pig, making short dashes in four or five directions and finally bumping violently into the groping little girl. Snatching at a wing, Dorothy pulled herself thankfully up and clasped both arms round his neck. In a tense and breathless silence they waited for it to grow lighter. They could not see even an inch before their noses now, and the darkness and silence grew more oppressive and unbearable every minute. "J—j-j-just a cloud passing over," croaked Pigasus, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. "J-j-j—j-j-j—say, what's that? Dorothy, do you hear anything? F—f-footsteps—not four, TWO. Someone's coming. Hello, there. Who are you? Watch out now, we're here." "I see you," answered a flat, matter-of-fact voice. "Oh! He sees us yet we can't see him, I'm frightened deaf and dumb, Oh, try to fly, Pigasus, why Oh why'd we ever come?" "That's what I'd like to know," went on the voice sternly. "Now, then, will you come quietly or must I drag you along?" |
|
