“Will they be injured in any way?” asked the Queen, doubtfully.
“I think not,” replied the Scarecrow. “I will carry them hidden in the straw which stuffs my body, and when I give them the signal by unbuttoning my jacket, they have only to rush out and scamper home again as fast as they can. By doing this they will assist me to regain my throne, which the Army of Revolt has taken from me.”
“In that case,” said the Queen, “I will not refuse your request. Whenever you are ready, I will call twelve of my most intelligent subjects.”
“I am ready now” returned the Scarecrow. Then he lay flat upon the ground and unbuttoned his jacket, displaying the mass of straw with which he was stuffed.
The Queen uttered a little piping call, and in an instant a dozen pretty field mice had emerged from their holes and stood before their ruler, awaiting her orders.
What the Queen said to them none of our travelers could understand, for it was in the mouse language; but the field mice obeyed without hesitation, running one after the other to the Scarecrow and hiding themselves in the straw of his breast.
When all of the twelve mice had thus concealed themselves, the Scarecrow buttoned his Jacket securely and then arose and thanked the Queen for her kindness.
“One thing more you might do to serve us,” suggested the Tin Woodman; “and that is to run ahead and show us the way to the Emerald City. For some enemy is evidently trying to prevent us from reaching it.”
“I will do that gladly,” returned the Queen. “Are you ready?”
The Tin Woodman looked at Tip.
“I’m rested,” said the boy. “Let us start.”
Then they resumed their journey, the little grey Queen of the Field Mice running swiftly ahead and then pausing until the travelers drew near, when away she would dart again.
Without this unerring guide the Scarecrow and his comrades might never have gained the Emerald City; for many were the obstacles thrown in their way by the arts of old Mombi. Yet not one of the obstacles really existed—all were cleverly contrived deceptions. For when they came to the banks of a rushing river that threatened to bar their way the little Queen kept steadily on, passing through the seeming flood in safety; and our travelers followed her without encountering a single drop of water.
Again, a high wall of granite towered high above their heads and opposed their advance. But the grey Field Mouse walked straight through it, and the others did the same, the wall melting into mist as they passed it.
Afterward, when they had stopped for a moment to allow Tip to rest, they saw forty roads branching off from their feet in forty different directions; and soon these forty roads began whirling around like a mighty wheel, first in one direction and then in the other, completely bewildering their vision.
But the Queen called for them to follow her and darted off in a straight line; and when they had gone a few paces the whirling pathways vanished and were seen no more.
Mombi’s last trick was the most fearful of all. She sent a sheet of crackling flame rushing over the meadow to consume them; and for the first time the Scarecrow became afraid and turned to fly.
“If that fire reaches me I will be gone in no time!” said he, trembling until his straw rattled. “It’s the most dangerous thing I ever encountered.”
“I’m off, too!” cried the SawHorse, turning and prancing with agitation; “for my wood is so dry it would burn like kindlings.”
“Is fire dangerous to pumpkins?” asked Jack, fearfully.
“You’ll be baked like a tart—and so will I!” answered the WoggleBug, getting down on all fours so he could run the faster.
But the Tin Woodman, having no fear of fire, averted the stampede by a few sensible words.
“Look at the Field Mouse!” he shouted. “The fire does not burn her in the least. In fact, it is no fire at all, but only a deception.”
Indeed, to watch the little Queen march calmly through the advancing flames restored courage to every member of the party, and they followed her without being even scorched.
“This is surely a most extraordinary adventure,” said the WoggleBug, who was greatly amazed; “for it upsets all the Natural Laws that I heard Professor Nowitall teach in the school-house.”
“Of course it does,” said the Scarecrow, wisely. “All magic is unnatural, and for that reason is to be feared and avoided. But I see before us the gates of the Emerald City, so I imagine we have now overcome all the magical obstacles that seemed to oppose us.”
Indeed, the walls of the City were plainly visible, and the Queen of the Field Mice, who had guided them so faithfully, came near to bid them goodbye.
“We are very grateful to your Majesty for your kind assistance,” said the Tin Woodman, bowing before the pretty creature.
“I am always pleased to be of service to my friends,” answered the Queen, and in a flash she had darted away upon her journey home.
15. The Prisoners of the Queen
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