The Magic of Oz: Stuck Fast (10/23)

The day was nearly gone when, at last, the raft was ready.

“It ain’t so very big,” said the old sailor, “but I don’t weigh much, an’ you, Trot, don’t weigh half as much as I do, an’ the glass pussy don’t count.”

“But it’s safe, isn’t it?” inquired the girl.

“Yes; it’s good enough to carry us to the island an’ back again, an’ that’s about all we can expect of it.”

Saying this, Cap’n Bill pushed the raft into the water, and when it was afloat, stepped upon it and held out his hand to Trot, who quickly followed him. The Glass Cat boarded the raft last of all.

The sailor had cut a long pole, and had also whittled a flat paddle, and with these he easily propelled the raft across the river. As they approached the island, the Wonderful Flower became more plainly visible, and they quickly decided that the Glass Cat had not praised it too highly. The colors of the flowers that bloomed in quick succession were strikingly bright and beautiful, and the shapes of the blossoms were varied and curious. Indeed, they did not resemble ordinary flowers at all.

So intently did Trot and Cap’n Bill gaze upon the Golden Flower pot that held the Magic Flower that they scarcely noticed the island itself until the raft beached upon its sands. But then the girl exclaimed: “How funny it is, Cap’n Bill, that nothing else grows here excep’ the Magic Flower.”

Then the sailor glanced at the island and saw that it was all bare ground, without a weed, a stone or a blade of grass. Trot, eager to examine the Flower closer, sprang from the raft and ran up the bank until she reached the Golden Flowerpot. Then she stood beside it motionless and filled with wonder. Cap’n Bill joined her, coming more leisurely, and he, too, stood in silent admiration for a time.

“Ozma will like this,” remarked the Glass Cat, sitting down to watch the shifting hues of the flowers. “I’m sure she won’t have as fine a birthday present from anyone else.”

“Do you s’pose it’s very heavy, Cap’n? And can we get it home without breaking it?” asked Trot anxiously.

“Well, I’ve lifted many bigger things than that,” he replied; “but let’s see what it weighs.”

He tried to take a step forward, but could not lift his meat foot from the ground. His wooden leg seemed free enough, but the other would not budge.

“I seem stuck, Trot,” he said, with a perplexed look at his foot. “It ain’t mud, an’ it ain’t glue, but somethin’s holdin’ me down.”

The girl attempted to lift her own feet, to go nearer to her friend, but the ground held them as fast as it held Cap’n Bill’s foot. She tried to slide them, or to twist them around, but it was no use; she could not move either foot a hair’s breadth.

“This is funny!” she exclaimed. “What do you ’spose has happened to us, Cap’n Bill?”

“I’m tryin’ to make out,” he answered. “Take off your shoes, Trot. P’raps it’s the leather soles that’s stuck to the ground.”

She leaned down and unlaced her shoes, but found she could not pull her feet out of them. The Glass Cat, which was walking around as naturally as ever, now said:

“Your foot has got roots to it, Cap’n, and I can see the roots going into the ground, where they spread out in all directions. It’s the same way with Trot. That’s why you can’t move. The roots hold you fast.”

Cap’n Bill was rather fat and couldn’t see his own feet very well, but he squatted down and examined Trot’s feet and decided that the Glass Cat was right.

“This is hard luck,” he declared, in a voice that showed he was uneasy at the discovery. “We’re pris’ners, Trot, on this funny island, an’ I’d like to know how we’re ever goin’ to get loose, so’s we can get home again.”

“Now I know why the Kalidah laughed at us,” said the girl, “and why he said none of the beasts ever came to this island. The horrid creature knew we’d be caught, and wouldn’t warn us.”

In the meantime, the Kalidah, although pinned fast to the earth by Cap’n Bill’s stake, was facing the island, and now the ugly expression which passed over its face when it defied and sneered at Cap’n Bill and Trot, had changed to one of amusement and curiosity. When it saw the adventurers had actually reached the island and were standing beside the Magic Flower, it heaved a breath of satisfaction—a long, deep breath that swelled the deep chest until the beast could feel the stake that held him move a little, as if withdrawing itself from the ground.

“Ah ha!” murmured the Kalidah, “a little more of this will set me free and allow me to escape!”

So he began breathing as hard as he could, puffing out his chest as much as possible with each indrawing breath, and by doing this he managed to raise the stake with each powerful breath, until at last the Kalidah—using the muscles of his four legs as well as his deep breaths—found itself free of the sandy soil. The stake was sticking right through him, however, so he found a rock deeply set in the bank and pressed the sharp point of the stake upon the surface of this rock until he had driven it clear through his body. Then, by getting the stake tangled among some thorny bushes, and wiggling his body, he managed to draw it out altogether.

“There!” he exclaimed, “except for those two holes in me, I’m as good as ever; but I must admit that that old wooden-legged fellow saved both himself and the girl by making me a prisoner.”

Now the Kalidahs, although the most disagreeable creatures in the Land of Oz, were nevertheless magical inhabitants of a magical Fairyland, and in their natures a certain amount of good was mingled with the evil. This one was not very revengeful, and now that his late foes were in danger of perishing, his anger against them faded away.

“Our own Kalidah King,” he reflected, “has certain magical powers of his own. Perhaps he knows how to fill up these two holes in my body.”

So without paying any more attention to Trot and Cap’n Bill than they were paying to him, he entered the forest and trotted along a secret path that led to the hidden lair of all the Kalidahs.

While the Kalidah was making good its escape Cap’n Bill took his pipe from his pocket and filled it with tobacco and lighted it. Then, as he puffed out the smoke, he tried to think what could be done.

“The Glass Cat seems all right,” he said, “an’ my wooden leg didn’t take roots and grow, either. So it’s only flesh that gets caught.”

“It’s magic that does it, Cap’n!”

“I know, Trot, and that’s what sticks me. We’re livin’ in a magic country, but neither of us knows any magic an’ so we can’t help ourselves.”

“Couldn’t the Wizard of Oz help us—or Glinda the Good?” asked the little girl.

“Ah, now we’re beginnin’ to reason,” he answered. “I’d probably thought o’ that, myself, in a minute more. By good luck the Glass Cat is free, an’ so it can run back to the Emerald City an’ tell the Wizard about our fix, an’ ask him to come an’ help us get loose.”

“Will you go?” Trot asked the cat, speaking very earnestly.

“I’m no messenger, to be sent here and there,” asserted the curious animal in a sulky tone of voice.

“Well,” said Cap’n Bill, “you’ve got to go home, anyhow, ’cause you don’t want to stay here, I take it. And, when you get home, it wouldn’t worry you much to tell the Wizard what’s happened to us.”

“That’s true,” said the cat, sitting on its haunches and lazily washing its face with one glass paw. “I don’t mind telling the Wizard—when I get home.”

“Won’t you go now?” pleaded Trot. “We don’t want to stay here any longer than we can help, and everybody in Oz will be interested in you, and call you a hero, and say nice things about you because you helped your friends out of trouble.”

That was the best way to manage the Glass Cat, which was so vain that it loved to be praised.

“I’m going home right away,” said the creature, “and I’ll tell the Wizard to come and help you.”

Saying this, it walked down to the water and disappeared under the surface. Not being able to manage the raft alone, the Glass Cat walked on the bottom of the river as it had done when it visited the island before, and soon they saw it appear on the farther bank and trot into the forest, where it was quickly lost to sight among the trees.

Then Trot heaved a deep sigh.

“Cap’n,” said she, “we’re in a bad fix. There’s nothing here to eat, and we can’t even lie down to sleep. Unless the Glass Cat hurries, and the Wizard hurries, I don’t know what’s going to become of us!”


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