Chapter Twenty-Six

The Trick River

Next morning they pushed the raft into the water

and all got aboard. The Quadling man had to hold

the log craft fast while they took their places,

and the flow of the river was so powerful that it

nearly tore the raft from his hands. As soon as

they were all seated upon the logs he let go and

away it floated and the adventurers had begun

their voyage toward the Winkie Country.

The little house of the Quadlings was out of

sight almost before they had cried their good-byes, and the Scarecrow said in a pleased voice:

“It won’t take us long to get to the Winkie

Country, at this rate.”

They had floated several miles down the stream

and were enjoying the ride when suddenly the raft

slowed up, stopped short, and then began to float

back the way it had come.

“Why, what’s wrong?” asked Dorothy, in

astonishment; but they were all just as bewildered

as she was and at first no one could answer the

question. Soon, however, they realized the truth:

that the current of the river had reversed and the

water was now flowing in the opposite direction—

toward the mountains.

They began to recognize the scenes they had

passed, and by and by they came in sight of the

little house of the Quadlings again. The man

was standing on the river bank and he called

to them:

“How do you do? Glad to see you again. I forgot

to tell you that the river changes its direction

every little while. Sometimes it flows one way,

and sometimes the other.”

They had no time to answer him, for the raft

was swept past the house and a long distance on

the other side of it.

“We’re going just the way we don’t want to

go,” said Dorothy, “and I guess the best thing

we can do is to get to land before we’re carried

any farther.”

But they could not get to land. They had

no oars, nor even a pole to guide the raft with.

The logs which bore them floated in the middle

of the stream and were held fast in that position

by the strong current.

So they sat still and waited and, even while

they were wondering what could be done, the raft

slowed down, stopped, and began drifting the other

way—in the direction it had first followed. After

a time they repassed the Quadling house and the

man was still standing on the bank. He cried out

to them:

“Good day! Glad to see you again. I expect

I shall see you a good many times, as you go

by, unless you happen to swim ashore.”

By that time they had left him behind and

were headed once more straight toward the

Winkie Country.

“This is pretty hard luck,” said Ojo in a

discouraged voice. “The Trick River keeps

changing, it seems, and here we must float back

and forward forever, unless we manage in some way

to get ashore.”

“Can you swim?” asked Dorothy.

“No; I’m Ojo the Unlucky.”

“Neither can I. Toto can swim a little, but

that won’t help us to get to shore.”

“I don’t know whether I could swim, or not,”

remarked Scraps; “but if I tried it I’d surely ruin

my lovely patches.”

“My straw would get soggy in the water and

I would sink,” said the Scarecrow.

So there seemed no way out of their dilemma

and being helpless they simply sat still. Ojo,

who was on the front of the raft, looked over

into the water and thought he saw some large

fishes swimming about. He found a loose end

of the clothesline which fastened the logs

together, and taking a gold nail from his pocket

he bent it nearly double, to form a hook, and

tied it to the end of the line. Having baited the

hook with some bread which he broke from his

loaf, he dropped the line into the water and

almost instantly it was seized by a great fish.

They knew it was a great fish, because it

pulled so hard on the line that it dragged the

raft forward even faster than the current of the

river had carried it. The fish was frightened,

and it was a strong swimmer. As the other end

of the clothesline was bound around the logs

he could not get it away, and as he had greedily

swallowed the gold hook at the first bite he

could not get rid of that, either.

When they reached the place where the current

had before changed, the fish was still swimming

ahead in its wild attempt to escape. The raft

slowed down, yet it did not stop, because the fish

would not let it. It continued to move in the same

direction it had been going. As the current

reversed and rushed backward on its course it

failed to drag the raft with it. Slowly, inch by

inch, they floated on, and the fish tugged and

tugged and kept them going.

“I hope he won’t give up,” said Ojo anxiously.

“If the fish can hold out until the current

changes again, we’ll be all right.”

The fish did not give up, but held the raft

bravely on its course, till at last the water in

the river shifted again and floated them the way

they wanted to go. But now the captive fish

found its strength failing. Seeking a refuge, it

began to drag the raft toward the shore. As they

did not wish to land in this place the boy cut

the rope with his pocket-knife and set the fish

free, just in time to prevent the raft from

grounding.

The next time the river backed up the Scarecrow

managed to seize the branch of a tree that

overhung the water and they all assisted him to

hold fast and prevent the raft from being carried

backward. While they waited here, Ojo spied a long

broken branch lying upon the bank, so he leaped

ashore and got it. When he had stripped off the

side shoots he believed he could use the branch as

a pole, to guide the raft in case of emergency.

They clung to the tree until they found the

water flowing the right way, when they let go

and permitted the raft to resume its voyage. In

spite of these pauses they were really making

good progress toward the Winkie Country and

having found a way to conquer the adverse

current their spirits rose considerably. They

could see little of the country through which

they were passing, because of the high banks,

and they met with no boats or other craft upon

the surface of the river.

Once more the trick river reversed its current,

but this time the Scarecrow was on guard and

used the pole to push the raft toward a big

rock which lay in the water. He believed the

rock would prevent their floating backward with

the current, and so it did. They clung to this

anchorage until the water resumed its proper

direction, when they allowed the raft to drift on.

Floating around a bend they saw ahead a high

bank of water, extending across the entire river,

and toward this they were being irresistibly

carried. There being no way to arrest the progress

of the raft they clung fast to the logs and let

the river sweep them on. Swiftly the raft climbed

the bank of water and slid down on the other side,

plunging its edge deep into the water and

drenching them all with spray.

As again the raft righted and drifted on,

Dorothy and Ojo laughed at the ducking they had

received; but Scraps was much dismayed and the

Scarecrow took out his handkerchief and wiped the

water off the Patchwork Girl’s patches as well as

he was able to. The sun soon dried her and the

colors of her patches proved good, for they did

not run together nor did they fade.

After passing the wall of water the current did

not change or flow backward any more but continued

to sweep them steadily forward. The banks of the

river grew lower, too, permitting them to see more

of the country, and presently they discovered

yellow buttercups and dandelions growing amongst

the grass, from which evidence they knew they had

reached the Winkie Country.

“Don’t you think we ought to land?” Dorothy

asked the Scarecrow.

“Pretty soon,” he replied. “The Tin Woodman’s

castle is in the southern part of the Winkie

Country, and so it can’t be a great way from

here.”

Fearing they might drift too far, Dorothy and

Ojo now stood up and raised the Scarecrow in

their arms, as high as they could, thus allowing

him a good view of the country. For a time he

saw nothing he recognized, but finally he cried:

“There it is! There it is!”

“What?” asked Dorothy.

“The Tin Woodman’s tin castle. I can see

its turrets glittering in the sun. It’s quite a way

off, but we’d better land as quickly as we can.”

They let him down and began to urge the raft

toward the shore by means of the pole. It obeyed

very well, for the current was more sluggish

now, and soon they had reached the bank and

landed safely.

The Winkie Country was really beautiful,

and across the fields they could see afar the

silvery sheen of the tin castle. With light hearts

they hurried toward it, being fully rested by

their long ride on the river.

By and by they began to cross an immense

field of splendid yellow lilies, the delicate

fragrance of which was very delightful.

“How beautiful they are!” cried Dorothy,

stopping to admire the perfection of these

exquisite flowers.

“Yes,” said the Scarecrow, reflectively, “but

we must be careful not to crush or injure any

of these lilies.”

“Why not?” asked Ojo.

“The Tin Woodman is very kind-hearted,”

was the reply, “and he hates to see any living

thing hurt in any way.

“Are flowers alive?” asked Scraps.

“Yes, of course. And these flowers belong to

the Tin Woodman. So, in order not to offend

him, we must not tread on a single blossom.”

“Once,” said Dorothy, “the Tin Woodman

stepped on a beetle and killed the little creature.

That made him very unhappy and he cried until

his tears rusted his joints, so he couldn’t move

‘em.”

“What did he do then?” asked Ojo.

“Put oil on them, until the joints worked

smooth again.

“Oh!” exclaimed the boy, as if a great discovery

had flashed across his mind. But he did not tell

anybody what the discovery was and kept the idea

to himself.

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

Scraps, 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 spacious 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 Shaggy 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 assured 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.