Chapter Twenty-One

Hip Hopper the Champion

They must have had good courage to climb all those

rocks, for after getting out of the canyon they

encountered more rock hills to he surmounted. Toto

could jump from one rock to another quite easily,

but the others had to creep and climb with care,

so that after a whole day of such work Dorothy and

Ojo found themselves very tired.

As they gazed upward at the great mass of

tumbled rocks that covered the steep incline,

Dorothy gave a little groan and said:

“That’s going to be a ter’ble hard climb,

Scarecrow. I wish we could find the dark well

without so much trouble.”

“Suppose,” said Ojo, “you wait here and let

me do the climbing, for it’s on my account

we’re searching for the dark well. Then, if I

don’t find anything, I’ll come back and join

you.

“No,” replied the little girl, shaking her head

positively, “we’ll all go together, for that way

we can help each other. If you went alone,

something might happen to you, Ojo.”

So they began the climb and found it indeed

difficult, for a way. But presently, in creeping

over the big crags, they found a path at their

feet which wound in and out among the masses of

rock and was quite smooth and easy to walk upon.

As the path gradually ascended the mountain,

although in a roundabout way, they decided to

follow it.

“This must be the road to the Country of

the Hoppers,” said the Scarecrow.

“Who are the Hoppers?” asked Dorothy.

“Some people Jack Pumpkinhead told me about,” he

replied.

“I didn’t hear him,” replied the girl.

“No; you were asleep,” explained the Scarecrow.

“But he told Scraps and me that the hoppers

and the Horners live on this mountain.”

“He said in the mountain,” declared Scraps;

“but of course he meant on it.”

“Didn’t he say what the Hoppers and Horners were

like?” inquired Dorothy.

“No; he only said they were two separate

nations, and that the Horners were the most

important.”

“Well, if we go to their country we’ll find out

all about ‘em,” said the girl. “But I’ve never

heard Ozma mention those people, so they can’t

be very important.”

“Is this mountain in the Land of Oz?” asked

Scraps.

“Course it is,” answered Dorothy. “It’s in the

South Country of the Quadlings. When one comes to

the edge of Oz, in any direction, there is nothing

more to be seen at all. Once you could see sandy

desert all around Oz; but now it’s diff’rent, and

no other people can see us, any more than we can

see them.”

“If the mountain is under Ozma’s rule, why

doesn’t she know about the Hoppers and the

Horners?” Ojo asked.

“Why, it’s a fairyland,” explained Dorothy, “and

lots of queer people live in places so tucked away

that those in the Emerald City never even hear of

‘em. In the middle of the country it’s diff’rent,

but when you get around the edges you’re sure to

run into strange little corners that surprise you.

I know, for I’ve traveled in Oz a good deal, and

os has the Scarecrow.”

“Yes,” admitted the straw man, “I’ve been

considerable of a traveler, in my time, and I like

to explore strange places. I find I learn much

more by traveling than by staying at home.”

During this conversation they had been walking

up the steep pathway and now found themselves well

up on the mountain. They could see nothing around

them, for the rocks beside their path were higher

than their heads. Nor could they see far in front

of them, because the path was so crooked. But

suddenly they stopped, because the path ended and

there was no place to go. Ahead was a big rock

lying against the side of the mountain, and this

blocked the way completely.

“There wouldn’t be a path, though, if it

didn’t go somewhere,” said the Scarecrow,

wrinkling his forehead in deep thought.

“This is somewhere, isn’t it?” asked the

Patchwork Girl, laughing at the bewildered

looks of the others.

“The path is locked, the way is blocked,

Yet here we’ve innocently flocked;

And now we’re here it’s rather queer

There’s no front door that can be knocked.”

“Please don’t, Scraps,” said Ojo. “You make me nervous.

“Well,” said Dorothy, “I’m glad of a little

rest, for that’s a drea’ful steep path.”

As she spoke she leaned against the edge of

the big rock that stood in their way. To her

surprise it slowly swung backward and showed

behind it a dark hole that looked like the mouth

of a tunnel.

“Why, here’s where the path goes to!” she

exclaimed.

“So it is,” answered the Scarecrow. “But the

question is, do we want to go where the path

does?”

“It’s underground; right inside the mountain,”

said Ojo, peering into the dark hole. “perhaps

there’s a well there; and, if there is, it’s sure

to be a dark one.”

“Why, that’s true enough!” cried Dorothy

with eagerness. “Let’s go in, Scarecrow; ‘cause,

if others have gone, we’re pretty safe to go, too.”

Toto looked in and barked, but he did not

venture to enter until the Scarecrow had bravely

gone first. Scraps followed closely after the

straw man and then Ojo and Dorothy timidly stepped

inside the tunnel. As soon as all of them had

passed the big rock, it slowly turned and filled

up the opening again; but now they were no longer

in the dark, for a soft, rosy light enabled them

to see around them quite distinctly.

It was only a passage, wide enough for two

of them to walk abreast—with Toto in between

them—and it had a high, arched roof. They

could not see where the light which flooded the

place so pleasantly came from, for there were

no lamps anywhere visible. The passage ran

straight for a little way and then made a bend

to the right and another sharp turn to the left,

after which it went straight again. But there

were no side passages, so they could not lose

their way.

After proceeding some distance, Toto, who

had gone on ahead, began to bark loudly. They

ran around a bend to see what was the matter

and found a man sitting on the floor of the

passage and leaning his back against the wall.

He had probably been asleep before Toto’s barks

aroused him, for he was now rubbing his eyes

and staring at the little dog with all his might.

There was something about this man that Toto

objected to, and when he slowly rose to his foot

they saw what it was. He had but one leg, set just

below the middle of his round, fat body; but it

was a stout leg and had a broad, flat foot at the

bottom of it, on which the man seemed to stand

very well. He had never had but this one leg,

which looked something like a pedestal, and when

Toto ran up and made a grab at the man’s ankle he

hopped first one way and then another in a very

active manner, looking so frightened that Scraps

laughed aloud.

Toto was usually a well behaved dog, but this

time he was angry and snapped at the man’s leg

again and again. This filled the poor fellow with

fear, and in hopping out of Toto’s reach he

suddenly lost his balance and tumbled heel over

head upon the floor. When he sat up he kicked Toto

on the nose and made the dog howl angrily, but

Dorothy now ran forward and caught Toto’s collar,

holding him back.

“Do you surrender?” she asked the man.

“Who? Me?” asked the Hopper.

“Yes; you,” said the little girl.

“Am I captured?” he inquired.

“Of course. My dog has captured you,” she said.

“Well,” replied the man, “if I’m captured I must

surrender, for it’s the proper thing to do. I like

to do everything proper, for it saves one a lot of

trouble.”

“It does, indeed,” said Dorothy. “Please tell us

who you are.

“I’m Hip Hopper—Hip Hopper, the Champion.”

“Champion what?” she asked in surprise.

“Champion wrestler. I’m a very strong man,

and that ferocious animal which you are so

kindly holding is the first living thing that has

ever conquered me.”

“And you are a Hopper?” she continued.

“Yes. My people live in a great city not far

from here. Would you like to visit it?”

“I’m not sure,” she said with hesitation. “Have

you any dark wells in your city?”

“I think not. We have wells, you know, hut

they’re all well lighted, and a well lighted well

cannot well be a dark well. But there may be

such a thing as a very dark well in the Horner

Country, which is a black spot on the face of

the earth.”

“Where is the Horner Country?” Ojo inquired.

“The other side of the mountain. There’s a

fence between the Hopper Country and the

Horner Country, and a gate in the fence; but

you can’t pass through just now, because we

are at war with the Horners.”

“That’s too bad,” said the Scarecrow. “What

seems to be the trouble?”

“Why, one of them made a very insulting remark

about my people. He said we were lacking in

understanding, because we had only one leg to a

person. I can’t see that legs have anything to do

with understanding things. The Homers each have

two legs, just as you have. That’s one leg too

many, it seems to me.”

“No,” declared Dorothy, “it’s just the right

number.”

“You don’t need them,” argued the Hopper,

obstinately. “You’ve only one head, and one

body, and one nose and mouth. Two legs are

quite unnecessary, and they spoil one’s shape.”

“But how can you walk, with only one leg?” asked

Ojo.

“Walk! Who wants to walk?” exclaimed the man.

“Walking is a terribly awkward way to travel. I

hop, and so do all my people. It’s so much more

graceful and agreeable than walking.”

“I don’t agree with you,” said the Scarecrow.

“But tell me, is there any way to get to the

Horner Country without going through the city of

the Hoppers?”

“Yes; there is another path from the rocky

lowlands, outside the mountain, that leads

straight to the entrance of the Horner Country.

But it’s a long way around, so you’d better come

with me. Perhaps they will allow you to go

through the gate; but we expect to conquer

them this afternoon, if we get time, and then

you may go and come as you please.”

They thought it best to take the Hopper’s

advice, and asked him to lead the way. This he

did in a series of hops, and he moved so swiftly

in this strange manner that those with two legs

had to run to keep up with him.