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It was a long walk, but a pleasant one, and they did not mind it a bit.
Late in the afternoon they drew near to the wonderful tin castle of the Emperor of the Winkies, and Ojo and Sc.r.a.ps, who had never seen it before, were filled with amazement.
Tin abounded in the Winkie Country and the Winkies were said to be the most skillful tinsmiths in all the world. So the Tin Woodman had employed them in building his magnificent castle, which was all of tin, from the ground to the tallest turret, and so brightly polished that it glittered in the sun's rays more gorgeously than silver. Around the grounds of the castle ran a tin wall, with tin gates; but the gates stood wide open because the Emperor had no enemies to disturb him.
When they entered the s.p.a.cious grounds our travelers found more to admire. Tin fountains sent sprays of clear water far into the air and there were many beds of tin flowers, all as perfectly formed as any natural flowers might be. There were tin trees, too, and here and there shady bowers of tin, with tin benches and chairs to sit upon. Also, on the sides of the pathway leading up to the front door of the castle, were rows of tin statuary, very cleverly executed. Among these Ojo recognized statues of Dorothy, Toto, the Scarecrow, the Wizard, the s.h.a.ggy Man, Jack Pumpkinhead and Ozma, all standing upon neat pedestals of tin.
Toto was well acquainted with the residence of the Tin Woodman and, being a.s.sured a joyful welcome, he ran ahead and barked so loudly at the front door that the Tin Woodman heard him and came out in person to see if it were really his old friend Toto. Next moment the tin man had clasped the Scarecrow in a warm embrace and then turned to hug Dorothy.
But now his eye was arrested by the strange sight of the Patchwork Girl, and he gazed upon her in mingled wonder and admiration.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Tin Woodman Objects
The Tin Woodman was one of the most important personages in all Oz.
Though Emperor of the Winkies, he owed allegiance to Ozma, who ruled all the land, and the girl and the tin man were warm personal friends.
He was something of a dandy and kept his tin body brilliantly polished and his tin joints well oiled. Also he was very courteous in manner and so kind and gentle that everyone loved him. The Emperor greeted Ojo and Sc.r.a.ps with cordial hospitality and ushered the entire party into his handsome tin parlor, where all the furniture and pictures were made of tin. The walls were paneled with tin and from the tin ceiling hung tin chandeliers.
The Tin Woodman wanted to know, first of all, where Dorothy had found the Patchwork Girl, so between them the visitors told the story of how Sc.r.a.ps was made, as well as the accident to Margolotte and Unc Nunkie and how Ojo had set out upon a journey to procure the things needed for the Crooked Magician's magic charm. Then Dorothy told of their adventures in the Quadling Country and how at last they succeeded in getting the water from a dark well.
While the little girl was relating these adventures the Tin Woodman sat in an easy chair listening with intense interest, while the others sat grouped around him. Ojo, however, had kept his eyes fixed upon the body of the tin Emperor, and now he noticed that under the joint of his left knee a tiny drop of oil was forming. He watched this drop of oil with a fast-beating heart, and feeling in his pocket brought out a tiny vial of crystal, which he held secreted in his hand.
Presently the Tin Woodman changed his position, and at once Ojo, to the astonishment of all, dropped to the floor and held his crystal vial under the Emperor's knee joint. Just then the drop of oil fell, and the boy caught it in his bottle and immediately corked it tight. Then, with a red face and embarra.s.sed manner, he rose to confront the others.
"What in the world were you doing?" asked the Tin Woodman.
"I caught a drop of oil that fell from your knee-joint," confessed Ojo.
"A drop of oil!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman. "Dear me, how careless my valet must have been in oiling me this morning. I'm afraid I shall have to scold the fellow, for I can't be dropping oil wherever I go."
"Never mind," said Dorothy. "Ojo seems glad to have the oil, for some reason."
"Yes," declared the Munchkin boy, "I am glad. For one of the things the Crooked Magician sent me to get was a drop of oil from a live man's body. I had no idea, at first, that there was such a thing; but it's now safe in the little crystal vial."
"You are very welcome to it, indeed," said the Tin Woodman. "Have you now secured all the things you were in search of?"
"Not quite all," answered Ojo. "There were five things I had to get, and I have found four of them. I have the three hairs in the tip of a Woozy's tail, a six-leaved clover, a gill of water from a dark well and a drop of oil from a live man's body. The last thing is the easiest of all to get, and I'm sure that my dear Unc Nunkie--and good Margolotte, as well--will soon be restored to life."
The Munchkin boy said this with much pride and pleasure.
"Good!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman; "I congratulate you. But what is the fifth and last thing you need, in order to complete the magic charm?"
"The left wing of a yellow b.u.t.terfly," said Ojo. "In this yellow country, and with your kind a.s.sistance, that ought to be very easy to find."
The Tin Woodman stared at him in amazement.
"Surely you are joking!" he said.
"No," replied Ojo, much surprised; "I am in earnest."
"But do you think for a moment that I would permit you, or anyone else, to pull the left wing from a yellow b.u.t.terfly?" demanded the Tin Woodman sternly.
"Why not, sir?"
"Why not? You ask me why not? It would be cruel--one of the most cruel and heartless deeds I ever heard of," a.s.serted the Tin Woodman. "The b.u.t.terflies are among the prettiest of all created things, and they are very sensitive to pain. To tear a wing from one would cause it exquisite torture and it would soon die in great agony. I would not permit such a wicked deed under any circ.u.mstances!"
Ojo was astounded at hearing this. Dorothy, too, looked grave and disconcerted, but she knew in her heart that the Tin Woodman was right.
The Scarecrow nodded his head in approval of his friend's speech, so it was evident that he agreed with the Emperor's decision. Sc.r.a.ps looked from one to another in perplexity.
"Who cares for a b.u.t.terfly?" she asked.
"Don't you?" inquired the Tin Woodman.
"Not the snap of a finger, for I have no heart," said the Patchwork Girl. "But I want to help Ojo, who is my friend, to rescue the uncle whom he loves, and I'd kill a dozen useless b.u.t.terflies to enable him to do that."
The Tin Woodman sighed regretfully.
"You have kind instincts," he said, "and with a heart you would indeed be a fine creature. I cannot blame you for your heartless remark, as you cannot understand the feelings of those who possess hearts. I, for instance, have a very neat and responsive heart which the wonderful Wizard of Oz once gave me, and so I shall never--never--never permit a poor yellow b.u.t.terfly to be tortured by anyone."
"The yellow country of the Winkies," said Ojo sadly, "is the only place in Oz where a yellow b.u.t.terfly can be found."
"I'm glad of that," said the Tin Woodman. "As I rule the Winkie Country, I can protect my b.u.t.terflies."
"Unless I get the wing--just one left wing--" said Ojo miserably, "I can't save Unc Nunkie."
"Then he must remain a marble statue forever," declared the Tin Emperor, firmly.
Ojo wiped his eyes, for he could not hold back the tears.
"I'll tell you what to do," said Sc.r.a.ps. "We'll take a whole yellow b.u.t.terfly, alive and well, to the Crooked Magician, and let him pull the left wing off."
"No, you won't," said the Tin Woodman. "You can't have one of my dear little b.u.t.terflies to treat in that way."
"Then what in the world shall we do?" asked Dorothy.
They all became silent and thoughtful. No one spoke for a long time.
Then the Tin Woodman suddenly roused himself and said:
"We must all go back to the Emerald City and ask Ozma's advice. She's a wise little girl, our Ruler, and she may find a way to help Ojo save his Unc Nunkie."
So the following morning the party started on the journey to the Emerald City, which they reached in due time without any important adventure. It was a sad journey for Ojo, for without the wing of the yellow b.u.t.terfly he saw no way to save Unc Nunkie--unless he waited six years for the Crooked Magician to make a new lot of the Powder of Life.
The boy was utterly discouraged, and as he walked along he groaned aloud.
"Is anything hurting you?" inquired the Tin Woodman in a kindly tone, for the Emperor was with the party.
"I'm Ojo the Unlucky," replied the boy. "I might have known I would fail in anything I tried to do."