The Royal Book of Oz Page 3

  CHAPTER 3

  DOWN THE MAGIC BEAN POLE

  Hugging the bean pole for dear life, the Scarecrow slid rapidlydownward, Everything was dark, but at times a confused roaringsounded in his ears.

  "Father, I hear something falling past!" shouted a gruff voice all atonce.

  "Then reach out and pull it in," growled a still deeper voice. Therewas a flash of light, a door opened suddenly, and a giant handsnatched the air just above the Scarecrow's head.

  "It's a good thing I haven't a heart to fail me," murmured theScarecrow, glancing up fearfully and clinging more tightly to thepole. "Though I fall, I shall not falter. But where under the eartham I falling to?" At that minute, a door opened far below, andsomeone called up:

  "Who are you? Have out your toll and be ready to salute the RoyalRuler of the Middlings!"

  The Scarecrow had learned in the course of his many and strangeadventures that it was best to accede to every request that wasreasonable or possible. Realizing that unless he answered at once hewould fall past his strange questioners, he shouted amiably:

  "I am the Scarecrow of Oz, sliding down my family tree!" The wordsechoed oddly in the narrow passageway, and by the time he reached theword "tree" the Scarecrow could make out two large brown men leaningfrom a door somewhere below. Next minute he came to a sharp stop. Aboard had shot out and closed off the passageway. So sudden was thestop that the Scarecrow was tossed violently upward. While heendeavored to regain his balance, the two Middlings eyed himcuriously.

  "So this is the kind of thing they grow on top," said one, holding alantern close to the Scarecrow's head.

  "Toll, Toll!" droned the other, holding out a horribly twisted hand.

  "One moment, your Royal Middleness!" cried the Scarecrow, backing asfar away from the lantern as he could, for with a straw stuffing onecannot be too careful of fire. He felt in his pocket for an emeraldhe had picked up in the Emerald City a few days before and handed itgingerly to the Muddy monarch.

  "Why do you call me Middleness?" the King demanded angrily, takingthe emerald.

  "Is your kingdom not in the middle of the earth, and are you notroyalty? What could be more proper than Royal Middleness?" asked theScarecrow, flecking the dust from his hat.

  Now that he had a better view, he saw that _the two were entirely menof mud,_ and very roughly put together. Dried grass hair stood erectupon each head, and their faces were large and lumpy and had adisconcerting way of changing shape. Indeed, when the King leanedover to examine the Scarecrow, his features were so soft they seemedto run into his cheek, which hung down alarmingly, while his noseturned sideways and lengthened at least an inch!

  Muddle pushed the King's nose back and began spreading his cheek intoplace. Instead of hands and feet, the Middlings had gnarled andtwisted roots which curled up in a perfectly terrifying manner. Theirteeth were gold, and their eyes shone like small electric lights.They wore stiff coats of dried mud, buttoned clumsily with lumps ofcoal, and the King had a tall mud crown. Altogether, the Scarecrowthought he had never seen more disagreeable looking creatures.

  "What he needs," spluttered the King, fingering the jewel greedily,"is a coat of mud! Shall we pull him in, Muddle?"

  "He's very poorly made, your Mudjesty. Can you work, Carescrow?"asked Muddle, thumping him rudely in the chest.

  "Scarecrow, if you please!" The Scarecrow drew himself up and spokewith great difficulty. "I can work with my head!" he added proudly.

  "Your head!" roared the King. "Did you hear that, Muddle? He workswith his head. What's the matter with your hands?" Again the Kinglunged forward, and this time his face fell on the other side and hadbulged enormously before Muddle could pat it into shape. They beganwhispering excitedly together, but the Scarecrow made no reply, forlooking over their shoulder he glimpsed a dark, forbidding cavernlighted only by the flashing red eyes of thousands of Middlings. Theyappeared to be digging, and above the rattle of the shovels and pickscame the hoarse voice of one of them singing the Middling NationalAir. Or so the Scarecrow gathered from the words:

  "Oh, chop the brown clods as they fall with a thud! Three croaks for the Middlings, who stick in the Mud. Oh, mud, rich and wormy! Oh, mud, sweet and squirmy! Oh what is so lovely as Mud! Oh what is so lovely as Mud! Three croaks for the Middlings, who delve all the day In their beautiful Kingdom of soft mud and clay!"

  The croaks that came at the end of the song were so terrifying thatthe Scarecrow shivered in spite of himself.

  "Ugh! Hardly a place for a pleasant visit!" he gasped, flatteninghimself against the wall of the passage. Feeling that matters hadgone far enough, he repeated in a loud voice:

  "I am the Scarecrow of Oz and desire to continue my fall. I have paidmy toll and unless your Royal Middleness release me--"

  "Might as well drop him--a useless creature!" whispered Muddle, andbefore the King had time to object, he jerked the board back. "Fallon!" he screeched maliciously, and the Scarecrow shot down into thedarkness, the hoarse screams of the two Middlings echoing after himthrough the gloom.

  No use trying to think! The poor Scarecrow bumped and banged fromside to side of the passage. It was all he could do to keep hold ofthe bean pole, so swiftly was he falling.

  "A good thing I'm not made of meat like little Dorothy," he wheezedbreathlessly. His gloves were getting worn through from friction withthe pole, and the rush of air past his ears was so confusing that hegave up all idea of thinking. Even magic brains refuse to work undersuch conditions. Down--down--down he plunged till he lost all countof time. Down--down--down--hours and hours! Would he never stop?Then suddenly it grew quite light, and he flashed through whatappeared to be a hole in the roof of a huge silver palace, whirleddown several stories and landed in a heap on the floor of a greathall. In one hand he clutched a small fan, and in the other a parasolthat had snapped off the beanstalk just before he reached the palaceroof.

  Shaken and bent over double though he was, the Scarecrow could seethat he had fallen into a company of great magnificence. He had aconfused glimpse of silken clad courtiers, embroidered screens,inlaid floors, and flashing silver lanterns, when there was athundering bang that hurled him halfway to the roof again. Falling toa sitting position and still clinging to the bean pole, he saw twogiant kettle drums nearby, still vibrating from the terrible blowsthey had received.

  The company were staring at him solemnly, and as he attempted torise, they fell prostrate on their faces. Up flew the poor flimsyScarecrow again, such was the draught, and this time landed on hisface. He was beginning to feel terribly annoyed, but before he couldopen his mouth or stand up, a deep voice boomed:

  "He has come!"

  "He has come!" shrilled the rest of the company, thumping their headson the stone floor. The language seemed strange to the Scarecrow, butoddly enough, he could understand it perfectly. Keeping a tight graspon the bean pole, he gazed at the prostrate assemblage, tooastonished to speak. They looked exactly like the pictures of someChinamen he had seen in one of Dorothy's picture books back in Oz,but instead of being yellow, their skin was a curious gray, and thehair of old and young alike was silver and worn in long, stiffqueues. Before he had time to observe any more, an old, old courtierhobbled forward and beckoned imperiously to a page at the door. Thepage immediately unfurled a huge silk umbrella and, running forward,held it over the Scarecrow's head.

  "Welcome home, sublime and noble Ancestor! Welcome, honorable andexalted Sir." The old gentleman made several deep salaams.

  "Welcome, immortal and illustrious Ancestor! Welcome, ancient andserene Father!" cried the others, banging their heads hard on thefloor--so hard that their queues flew into the air.

  "Ancestor! Father!" mumbled the Scarecrow in a puzzled voice. Then,collecting himself somewhat, he made a deep bow, and sweeping off hishat with a truly royal gesture began: "I am indeed honored--" But hegot no farther. The silken clad courtiers sprang to their feet in afrenzy of joy. A dozen seized him bodily and carried him to a gr
eatsilver throne room.

  "The same beautiful voice!" cried the ancient gentleman, clasping hishands in an ecstasy of feeling.

  "It is he! The Emperor! The Emperor has returned! Long live theEmperor!" shouted everyone at once. The confusion grew worse andworse.

  "Ancestor! Father! Emperor!" The Scarecrow could scarcely believe hisears. "For a fallen man, I am rising like yeast!" he murmured tohimself. Half a dozen courtiers had run outdoors to spread thewonderful news, and soon silver gongs and bells began ringing allover the kingdom, and cries of "The Emperor! The Emperor!" added tothe general excitement. Holding fast to the sides of the throne andstill grasping the little fan and parasol, the Scarecrow sat blinkingwith embarrassment.

  "If they would just stop emperoring, I could ask them who I am,"thought the poor Scarecrow. As if in answer to his thoughts, thetottery old nobleman raised his long arm, and at once the hall becameabsolutely silent.

  "Now!" sighed the Scarecrow, leaning forward. "Now I shall hearsomething of interest."