THE SCARECROW of OZ
Dedicated to
"The
uplifters" of Los Angeles, California, in
gratefulappreciation of the pleasure I have derived
from association with them, and in
recognition of
their
sincere endeavor to
uplifthumanity through
kindness,
consideration and good-fellowship. They are
big men--all of them--and all with the generous
hearts of little children.
L. Frank Baum
THE SCARECROW of OZ
by L. Frank Baum
"TWIXT YOU AND ME
The Army of Children which besieged the Postoffice,
conquered the Postmen and delivered to me its imperious
Commands, insisted that Trot and Cap'n Bill be admitted
to the Land of Oz, where Trot could enjoy the society
of Dorothy, Betsy Bobbin and Ozma, while the one-
legged sailor-man might become a comrade of the Tin
Woodman, the Shaggy Man, Tik-Tok and all the other
quaint people who
inhabit this wonderful fairyland.
It was no easy task to obey this order and land Trot
and Cap'n Bill
safely in Oz, as you will discover by
reading this book. Indeed, it required the best efforts
of our dear old friend, the Scarecrow, to save them
from a
dreadful fate on the journey; but the story
leaves them happily located in Ozma's splendid palace
and Dorothy has promised me that Button-Bright and the
three girls are sure to
encounter, in the near future,
some
marvelous adventures in the Land of Oz, which I
hope to be permitted to
relate to you in the next Oz
Book.
Meantime, I am deeply
grateful to my little readers
for their continued
enthusiasm over the Oz stories, as
evinced in the many letters they send me, all of which
are lovingly cherished. It takes more and more Oz Books
every year to satisfy the demands of old and new
readers, and there have been formed many "Oz Reading
Societies," where the Oz Books owned by different
members are read aloud. All this is very gratifying to
me and encourages me to write more stories. When the
children have had enough of them, I hope they will let
me know, and then I'll try to write something
different.
L. Frank Baum
"Royal Historian of Oz."
"OZCOT"
at HOLLYWOOD
in CALIFORNIA, 1915.
LIST OF CHAPTERS
1 - The Great Whirlpool
2 - The Cavern Under the Sea
3 - Daylight at Last:
4 - The Little Old Man of the Island
5 - The Flight of the Midgets
6 - The Dumpy Man
7 - Button-Bright is Lost, and Found Again
8 - The Kingdom of Jinxland
9 - Pan, the Gardener's Boy
10 - The Wicked King and Googly-Goo
11 - The Wooden-Legged Grasshopper
12 - Glinda the Good and the Scarecrow of Oz
13 - The Frozen Heart
14 - Trot Meets the Scarecrow
15 - Pon Summons the King to Surrender
16 - The Ork Rescues Button-Bright
17 - The Scarecrow Meets an Enemy
18 - The Conquest of the Witch
19 - Queen Gloria
20 - Dorothy, Betsy and Ozma
21 - The Waterfall
22 - The Land of Oz
23 - The Royal Reception
Chapter One
The Great Whirlpool
"Seems to me," said Cap'n Bill, as he sat beside Trot
under the big acacia tree, looking out over the blue
ocean, "seems to me, Trot, as how the more we know, the
more we find we don't know."
"I can't quite make that out, Cap'n Bill," answered
the little girl in a serious voice, after a moment's
thought, during which her eyes followed those of the
old sailor-man across the
glassy surface of the sea.
"Seems to me that all we learn is jus' so much gained."
"I know; it looks that way at first sight," said the
sailor, nodding his head; "but those as knows the least
have a habit of thinkin' they know all there is to
know, while them as knows the most admits what a
turr'ble big world this is. It's the
knowing ones that
realize one
lifetime ain't long enough to git more'n a
few dips o' the oars of knowledge."
Trot didn't answer. She was a very little girl, with
big,
solemn eyes and an
earnest, simple manner.
Cap'n Bill had been her
faithfulcompanion for years
and had taught her almost everything she knew.
He was a wonderful man, this Cap'n Bill. Not so
very old, although his hair was grizzled -- what there
was of it. Most of his head was bald as an egg and
as shiny as oilcloth, and this made his big ears stick
out in a funny way. His eyes had a gentle look and
were pale blue in color, and his round face was rugged
and bronzed. Cap'n Bill's left leg was
missing, from
the knee down, and that was why the sailor no longer
sailed the seas. The
wooden leg he wore was good
enough to stump around with on land, or even to take
Trot out for a row or a sail on the ocean, but when it
came to "runnin' up aloft" or performing active
duties on shipboard, the old sailor was not equal to
the task. The loss of his leg had ruined his career
and the old sailor found comfort in devoting himself
to the education and
companionship of the little girl.
The accident to Cap'n Bill's leg bad happened at
about the time Trot was born, and ever since that he
had lived with Trot's mother as "a star boarder,"
having enough money saved up to pay for his weekly
"keep." He loved the baby and often held her on
his lap; her first ride was on Cap'n Bill's shoulders,
for she had no baby-carriage; and when she began
to toddle around, the child and the sailor became
close comrades and enjoyed many strange adventures
together. It is said the fairies had been present at
Trot's birth and had marked her
forehead with their
invisible
mystic signs, so that she was able to see and
do many wonderful things.
The acacia tree was on top of a high bluff, but a
path ran down the bank in a
zigzag way to the water's
edge, where Cap'n Bill's boat was moored to a rock
by means of a stout cable. It had been a hot, sultry
afternoon, with scarcely a
breath of air
stirring, so
Cap'n Bill and Trot had been quietly sitting beneath
the shade of the tree,
waiting for the sun to get low
enough for them to take a row.
They had
decided to visit one of the great caves
which the waves had washed out of the rocky coast
during many years of steady effort. The caves were
a source of
continual delight to both the girl and the
sailor, who loved to
explore their awesome depths.
"I b'lieve, Cap'n," remarked Trot, at last, "that
it's time for us to start."
The old man cast a
shrewd glance at the sky, the
sea and the
motionless boat. Then he shook his head.
"Mebbe it's time, Trot," he answered, "but I don't
jes' like the looks o' things this afternoon."
"What's wrong?" she asked wonderingly.
"Can't say as to that. Things is too quiet to suit
me, that's all. No
breeze, not a
ripple a-top the water,
nary a gull a-flyin'
anywhere, an' the end o' the hottest
day o' the year. I ain't no weather-prophet, Trot, but
any sailor would know the signs is ominous."
"There's nothing wrong that I can see," said Trot.
"If there was a cloud in the sky even as big as my
thumb, we might worry about it; but -- look, Cap'n! --
the sky is as clear as can be."
He looked again and nodded.
"P'r'aps we can make the cave, all right," he agreed,
not wishing to
disappoint her. "It's only a little way
out, an' we'll be on the watch; so come along, Trot."
Together they descended the winding path to the
beach. It was no trouble for the girl to keep her
footing on the steep way, but Cap'n Bill, because of
his
wooden leg, had to hold on to rocks and roots now
and then to save himself from tumbling. On a level path
he was as spry as anyone, but to climb up hill or down
required some care.
They reached the boat
safely and while Trot was
untying the rope Cap'n Bill reached into a
crevice of
the rock and drew out several
tallow candles and a box
of wax matches, which he
thrust into the capacious
pockets of his "sou'wester." This sou'wester was a
short coat of oilskin which the old sailor wore on all
occasions -- when he wore a coat at all -- and the
pockets always contained a
variety of objects, useful
and
ornamental, which made even Trot wonder where they
all came from and why Cap'n Bill should treasure them.
The jackknives -- a big one and a little one -- the bits
of cord, the fishhooks, the nails: these were handy to
have on certain occasions. But bits of shell, and tin
boxes with unknown
contents, buttons, pincers, bottles
of curious stones and the like, seemed quite
unnecessary to carry around. That was Cap'n Bill's
business, however, and now that he added the candles
and the matches to his
collection Trot made no comment,
for she knew these last were to light their way through
the caves. The sailor always rowed the boat, for he
handled the oars with strength and skill. Trot sat in
the stern and steered. The place where they embarked
was a little bight or
circular bay, and the boat cut
across a much larger bay toward a distant headland
where the caves were located, right at the water's
edge. They were nearly a mile from shore and about
halfway across the bay when Trot suddenly sat up
straight and exclaimed: "What's that, Cap'n?"
He stopped rowing and turned half around to look.
"That, Trot," he slowly replied, "looks to me mighty
like a whirlpool."
"What makes it, Cap'n?"
"A whirl in the air makes the whirl in the water. I
was afraid as we'd meet with trouble, Trot. Things
didn't look right. The air was too still."
"It's coming closer," said the girl.
The old man grabbed the oars and began rowing with