"Tymlie, what are you doing with that oil can?" asked Glinda the Good.
Tymlie Tell looked down at her shoes. She wasn't aware she had been watched. She had found the oil can in the tool room at the end hall of the palace. Like all possessions of her ruler and master, it was very elegant. It was pure gold and decorated with thirteen small but fiery rubies. Just right for the royal guest.
She had been meaning to do well but now that she had been seen she wasn't so sure.
"If you please, your Highness," she began timidly, "I thought as the right Honorable Nick Chopper, Radiant and Supreme Emperor of the Winkies, the exalted Tin Woodman of Oz doesn't eat, he might wish to oil his joints as undoubtedly he'll be quite stiff from his long journey." Hastily she added, "It's quite humid today."
"Why my dear child" replied Glinda quite surprised, "wherever did you learn those long and fanciful words? You mustn't use them around the Tin Woodman for he's a very modest fellow."
"Yes Ma'am" replied Tymlie, still looking at her shoes. They were red with ruby buckles.
"Tymlie, that was very thoughtful. I'm quite please and surprised. I hadn't expected such cleverness and consideration from any of my servants but the Tin Woodman always carries his own oil can wherever he goes, so it is really quite unnecessary to set one at his place" continued Glinda.
"I'm sorry, your Highness" Tymlie was looking at the floor under her feet. It was made of red marble slabs placed in a checkerboard pattern. She began to walk away.
"Tymlie."
"Yes, Ma'am." What had she done now?
"Look at me."
Tymlie turned around and looked into Glinda's eyes. They were deep and calm. They told of great wisdom. Glinda was smiling.
"Tymlie," she said slowly and clearly, "Don't ever be ashamed of a good idea."
Suddenly whether through some deep magic of the ancient but beautiful sorceress or because no-one can feel sad for too long, Tymlie felt a surge of self-confidence and happiness swell through her.
"Oh no, never, Glinda" she beamed and ran down the hall to return the oil can.
Glinda sighed. She's a wonderful servant, she thought. She's certainly bright. No-one else would have thought to have supplied an oil can for the Tin Woodman. I wish she were less timid though.
Glinda walked through her palace watching her maids set the tables and arrange the long sofas in the reception room.
"Crysta" she called "Go bring my Magic Book from my studio to the reception room." Glinda removed the gold key she always wore around her neck and handed it to the maid. Glinda remembered how much Dorothy loved to browse through the Magic Book whenever she visited.
Crysta hurried to Glinda's studio where all the magical tools and supplies were kept. The finest of all of Glinda's magical objects was her Magic Book of Records. This book stood in the center of the large room locked up with gold chains. This book is truly marvelous as any event that ever happens anywhere in the world is instantly recorded in the book. Of course to cover all events, the book often condenses them to short and puzzling sentences.
Unlocking the chains with the gold key Glinda had given her, Crysta lifted the huge book off its stand but dropped it immediately as it was too heavy for one young girl to carry.
"Reds, get over here" she called. "Help me lift this thing."
Tymlie, who had just returned the oil can turned to see what Crysta was talking about and nearly screamed.
"Crysta! You wicked girl. Why are you stealing Glinda's Book of Records?" she cried.
"Oh, shut up. She told me to bring it to the reception room so c'mon and give me a hand, Reds."
Crysta called Tymlie Reds because Tymlie was a true Quadling. As you probably know as well as I do, The Quadling country is the southern region of the marvelous land of Oz. The favorite color of the Quadlings is red and Tymlie Tell was certainly red. She had beautiful deep red hair, dark red lips, florid red skin that was quite dark to give her a healthy appearance and even red eyes which may sound strange but ,I assure you, are really quite attractive.
Tymlie was the only child of Boll and Penna Tell, two Quadling farmers. From birth, Tymlie had always been intelligent, strong, loyal, and very brave. Oddly enough she thought very little of herself and felt she was no good at all.
"Where's the wanderer?" asked her father during dinner one night a few weeks earlier. The wanderer was their nickname for Tymlie.
"I don't know" answered Penna "Probably collecting bird eggs or chasing frogs somewhere."
"Honestly, that child gets into more trouble," said Boll.
"No she doesn't" replied Penna. "She finished he chores early today. You know how quick she is. She's just the adventurous type, that's all. It's too bad there's nothing here for her to do except become a farmer when she grows up."
"She can marry," said Boll gruffly. "You did."
"Hah," snorted Penna. "She'd make someone a good wife, all right, but I don't think there's anyone for miles who'd make her a good husband. No, she needs adventure and travel in her life."
That night they decided that Tymlie Tell should become a servant at Glinda's palace.
Glinda the Good is the kind and powerful sorceress who rules the Quadling country. She lives in a splendid palace in the southern part of the Quadling country. For servants, she employs many young maidens from all over Oz. These girls enjoy their work as much as their play and spend more time holding hands and singing than actual hard work. Naturally, only the smartest and strongest girls get to be Glinda's servants and naturally, Tymlie Tell was one.
Tymlie loved working for Glinda. The work was fun but more importantly it was exciting. With luck, some adventure would happen and Glinda would call on her for help. Maybe Glinda might even teach her some magic. Of course, magic is illegal in Oz except when done by Glinda or the wonderful Wizard of Oz or the ruler of all Oz herself, the beautiful Princess Ozma.
Maybe adventure will happen tonight when all the celebrities of Oz arrive to have dinner with Glinda. Tymlie could hardly wait to meet these unusual people. There would be Nick Chopper, the famous Woodman made entirely of tin but as alive as you and me, the Scarecrow also alive with wonderful brains, Tik-Tok the clockwork man, Jack Pumpkinhead, the Cowardly Lion, the Hungry Tiger, the Sawhorse made of wood, the Patchwork Girl made from a patchwork quilt and many more; some she may never have even heard of. Why there was the door now!
Dorothy ran through the halls, followed quickly by the little Wizard of Oz, her dog Toto, her Aunt Em and Uncle Henry, her friend Trot and her guardian Cap'n Bill, her friend Betsy and her mule Hank, her friend Button-Bright, the yellow hen Billina, and the famous wooden Sawhorse. She gave Glinda a fond embrace and said "Whew, that foolish Sawhorse brought us here so fast our hair got all tangled.. Just 'cause he felt he had to race the Woozy."
"And I beat that block-head, even while dragging the Red Wagon" added the sly Sawhorse. "He should know better than to try to beat a horse who never tire."
"Nonsense" grumbled a low voice, and they all turned to see the Woozy himself coming through the door with a very dizzy Patchwork Girl on his back. "That knot-head only has longer legs. I can go a year without tiring."
"Oh Wooz, you know you can only go a month," said the Patchwork Girl.
The Woozy is a queer creature that could only exist in the bizarre land of Oz. He is a small amiable animal with entirely square sides. His head is a box. Likewise, his legs, body, and even tail are boxes. He was discovered many years ago by the Patchwork Girl.
Glinda was looking out the door. "Ah, here come the Tin Woodman and Scarecrow," she said.
"Good" replied Dorothy "then we only have to wait for Ozma's royal chariot. She's bringing everyone else."
After dinner they all retired to the reception room, sat around the fireplace, chatting about old times and sipping Glinda's fine brew of Locasta. The Hungry Tiger and the Cowardly Lion curled like two great kittens by the fire, while the smaller animals cuddled beside them. Betsy lay with her head of her darling Hank's side and Dorothy flipped through the pages of Glinda's Great Book of Records.
"A fine vintage" remarked the Shaggy Man about the Locasta, "strong and full-bodied yet sweet and lively."
"Tastes like Ras'berry Pop," commented Betsy not noticing how that ruined Shaggy's speech.
"Just the thing for a late night like this" remarked the Wizard.
"Oh, if I get any more comfortable, I'll just fall asleep," yawned Tiny Trot. She already had her eyes closed and was leaning heavily on her sailor friend and guardian Cap'n Bill.
"Ah, what a joyous thing it is to never have to sleep," began the Scarecrow who was seated quite far from the fire.
"And to never know the comfort of sleeping on someone's shoulder while the warm fire burns at your toes. And soothing voices continue around you. Nor to be able to drink and taste this won'erful Locasta," finished Trot. She was too tired to listen to the Scarecrow's favorite speech especially when she felt this good just being flesh and normal while lying about with good friends. Oh if only this could go on forever! "I notice you have two new servants," Ozma changed the subject.
"Oh, yes. Tymlie is an excellent worker and very cheerful and friendly but quite afraid of doing something wrong, which of course she never does.
"Now I've had Crysta longer. She's a good worker but terribly cross and resentful.. She won't get along with the other servants and I'm afraid she only makes things worse for poor Tymlie."
"Why do you keep her then?" asked Ozma.
"I'm hoping that by being among good company she'll change her ways. I just hope that by being around her the good company doesn't change its ways." And with that Glinda took a long sip of Locasta. "Why Tymlie what are you doing up so late?"
"Oh, if you please, your Highness: began the timid girl "I came to see if any help was needed of me. Cleaning up and so forth."
"Of course I please, but everything can be left for tomorrow, except my Magic Book must be locked of course, but I can do that myself. Now come sit down, dear, and have a sip of Locasta with us" offered the good Sorceress.
"Oh but I couldn't" stammered the poor girl.
"Of course you can" said Betsy, " Come sit by me. Hank's really soft."
Tymlie took a glass and sat on the floor next to Betsy. We're the age, she thought. Maybe if we become friends she'll invite me to the Emerald City and we'll have adventures.
"Cap'n Bill" said Dorothy suddenly. "You have a brother, don't you:"
"Aye," remarked the old sailor, "Cap'n Joe Wheedles of the 'Gladsome;. We thought he had gone under once."
"But he hadn't, had he, Cap'n?" added Trot now very awake. "He was kidnapped by Zog, the Terrible, the evil Sea Lord. An' he turned him into a fish servant."
"A slave, ye mean" corrected Cap'n Bill. "An' fishified an' all. Wi' gills t' breath water jus' like a fish but same ol' Cap'n Joe body. Woodin leg an' all"
"It kept floating an' knocking him over" added Trot.
"But we got 'im a gold 'un. A sol'd gol' leg. An we kilt that ol' nasty Zog an lef' ol' Joe th' king o'' the fish folk. Din't we Trot?" He looked affectionately at his long time companion.
We shore did, Cap'n" she smiled, squeezing his arm. "But only with the help of Queen Aquareine and the Sea Fairies."
"And King Anko, the Sea Serpent", added the Cap'n wistfully.
"Well, It says in Glinda's Magic Book that he's been captured," said Dorothy.
"Kapshored?" shouted Cap'n, "Pore Joe, by who, by thunneration."
" 'Cap'n Joe Wheedles, King of the Castle of Men-fish and several men-fish have been captured by the citizens of Florimdor, and have been displayed in the local aquarium." recited Dorothy.
"Aquwheryem!" Cap'n Bill was beside himself with rage. "My poor brother in an Awk-where-ee-um. Him that taught me to walk. In a sea zoo like a commin catfish. Where is this Floor-him-door?'
"Beats me" answered Dorothy. That's all the Book says.
"I've never heard of the country," said Ozma.
"I neither," answered Glinda after some thought.
"The Book lies," said Professor H.M. Woggle-bug T.E. "I've made all the maps of Oz and none of them tell of a country called Florimdor.:
"Well, what if it hain't in Oz, you great big humbug? Joe's from the bottom o' the Ocean. Why in Truncation shou' he be in Oz?" yelled Cap'n Bill with more fury seen in Oz for quite some time.
"Please Cap'n, control yourself," begged the Tin Woodman whose kind heart couldn't bear to see such a fight.
Professor H.M. Woggle-bug T.E. merely muttered to himself, "Humbug? Me? Humbug?"
Once he had been a common woggle-bug crawling in a schoolhouse. By listening to the professor he became Thoroughly Educated (thus the T.E. at the end of his name). Later he became Highly Magnified (hence the H.M. at the start of his name. It had been a long time since anyone had called him a humbug (if ever).
"North" said the Wizard suddenly. "Far north. Above the Arctic Circle. That's where Florimdor is."
"Really, Wizard, how come we've, I mean the Americans have never heard of it?" asked Dorothy.
"Oh, they've flown over it in their new airships but they've never thought it was important enough to bother with. It looks like ice from above" explained the Wizard.
"For gosh sake, what's the blamed place like" asked Cap'n Bill.
"I don't know. It's not civilized like America so magic can exist. But it doesn't have any magic (at least not as we know it) as Oz does." answered the Wizard
"North, huh," muttered Cap'n Bill, "That'll mean the Gilliken country. Then I gotta cross th' Deadly Desert. Waal, I done it afore so I kin do it agin. Then I go through Ix 'n get a boat, than I'm as good as gotten t' the North Pole."
"Don't go by boat, Cap'n," suggested Trot. "We can use my magic ring an' get the Sea Fairies to help us."
"Now, Trot, I don' think this rightly calls fer disterbin' them mermaids, an' it's a mughty dengerous jernee fer a small tyke like you."
"Nonsense Cap'n. You swore to take care of me an' how can you when you go off by yourself to the North Pole. An' with the fairies help, we can become mermaids ourselves and swim faster and safer than any boat. Heck, they might even know the way to Florimdor" concluded Trot
"Wait, wait," beckoned Ozma. "You aren't planning a dangerous trip to rescue Cap'n Joe are you?"
"Sure we are" answered Trot. "You can run the country without us. We can't let poor Joe waste away in an aquarium.:
"My sen'a'men's egzackly, Trot" chuckled Cap'n Bill.
"But the danger," pleaded the Tin Woodman who was mortally afraid of water for fear of rusting. "Certainly you should take someone along."
"Why, we kin watch out for each other," said Trot, " an' 'sides, you're all needed here."
Tymlie dropped her glass of Locasta.
"Oops, careful l there, Tymlie," cautioned Betsy.
"Oh, I'll get a towel and wipe it up." Tymlie jumped up.
"No Tymlie," said Glinda, "you've worked hard today. Crysta can take care of it. Crysta! Come clean this spill."
Crysta entered, towel in hand, and gave Tymlie such a scowl that she wished Glinda had let her clean the mess.
"Here Crysta, have some Locasta," Glinda offered the servant after she had sufficiently cleaned the floor. Crysta accepted without a word or smile and sat and drank in gulps. Tymlie edged toward the wall.
"Well," said the Scarecrow to Cap'n Bill, "if you're planning an adventure to Florimdor, surely you will need to take some more people for protection."
"I got Trot," said Cap'n Bill. "She's as good as any guardin' angel. Now I'm no ekspert on a'venshores, but I been thru' quite a few in travels an' I allus found that the more people to cum are jes' more people to get los' an' hurt. An' no disrespeck but mos' o' you magic folks woul' look mighty queer among the mermaids."
"And no disrespect taken" replied Ozma. "Your plan sounds wise, Cap'n Bill. Tomorrow when we return to the Emerald City, I shall lend you my magic carpet and accompanied by the sawhorse you may travel through the Gilliken Country, across the Deadly Desert and the Shifting Sands, through Ix and to the sea. The Sawhorse will return and I'll watch your adventures through my magic picture. When you return, I'll send the Sawhorse to bring you home. Does that plan sound satisfactory?"
"S'fine with me. How's it to you, Trot?", answered Cap'n Bill.
"Sounds great to me. How 'bout you, Sawhorse?" Trot replied.
"Oh I don't mind. Just as long as I'm not expected to travel to frozen Florimdor," answered the wooden beast.
"Good, it is settled then," concurred Glinda rising. "And now, I believe we should all journey to our beds as it is long past eleven o'clock. Crysta, give me my gold key."
"Oh, why I left it in my bedroom, Glinda. Wait a moment. I'll be right back," said Crysta quickly running out the room. Was it a trick of the light or did Tymlie see a glint of gold around Crysta's wrist:
Crysta returned shortly and Tymlie helped Glinda carry the great book to the Good Sorceress' studio.
What a night! Cap'n Bill and Trot are planning an adventure and I heard it all. Still, I wonder what that gold glint on Crysta's wrist was. The thoughts raced through Tymlie's head and the poor maid was so excited she could hardly sleep. Not being able to sleep, the little servant decided to explore the palace.
Passing by the Sorceress' Studio, she heard strange noises from within. Upon glancing in the poor servant nearly screamed. There was Crysta, gold key in hand, unlocking the gold chains binding the Magic Record Book.
I must tell Glinda, she thought, as she ran to the Good Sorceress' sleeping chamber. She was about to awaken the kind ruler when she noticed that around Glinda's neck was the very gold key, the only one that would unlock the Magic Books chains.
Maybe she had been seeing things, for surely Crysta couldn't have the key if it were here around Glinda's neck and oh, Glinda would be so angry if Tymlie awoke her for a mistake. She must go back to the studio and make sure Crysta was stealing the book. Maybe she was only reading it and there was nothing wrong with that.
Tymlie ran back to the studio. There was no mistake now. Crysta was dragging the Great Book down the hall. I must follow her, Tymlie thought.
Down corridors, and out the main entrance, down the front steps, and to the royal stables, Crysta dragged the Book while Tymlie pursued in the shadows. What ever does she want in the stables, mused Tymlie. Great rubies! She's assembling Glinda's swan-drawn chariot. She'll fly away! But I mustn't let her.
Tik-Tok, the Scarecrow, the Patchwork Girl, Jack Pumpkinhead, and the Tin Woodman all don't sleep. During the long hours of night they usually watch the stars and think deep thoughts, but tonight while they had each other's company they had settled in the reception room engaged in conversation. Jack was about to comment on the excellent batch of pumpkin seeds that he uses for brains, when the door flew open and in rushed the young servant, Tymlie Tell.
"If you please, your excellencies," she panted, "could you please tell me where I might find the fabulous Sawhorse?"
"He was not in-ter-est-ed in con-ver-sa-tion to-night so he re- tir-ed to the Gal-ler-y," drawled Tik-Tok in his monotonous voice.
"Come tell me what you see
The Sawhorse in the Gallery
What's he doing there, pray tell
Polishing the dinner bell,"
sang the Patchwork Girl turning Cartwheel but Tymlie had already left.
The Sawhorse was not polishing the dinner bell but was instead enjoying a painting of an oak tree by a young Winkie artist. The Quadling and Gilliken paintings were quite exotic and elegant but he preferred the simplicity of the Winkies' landscapes.
He was a simple beast. Once he had been a common Sawhorse used for sawing wood but one day he had been magically brought to life. He became a favorite of Ozma of Oz who took him in as her royal steed. She had his feet shod with gold to keep his legs from wearing down.
His thoughts were interrupted by the quick entrance of Tymlie Tell.
"Please sir, you must let me ride you," she gasped. "The evil servant Crysta is flying away with the Magic Record Book."
The wooden horse needed to hear no more. There were none in all Oz as fast as he, for being made entirely of wood he never tired. Fast as the wind he could run, and fast as the wind he would. "Hop on," he cried and at once she had a firm grip around his neck. He raced out the Gallery and into the night.
The swan-drawn Chariot was already flying but quite visible when they arrived at the stables. The Chariot was used almost exclusively by Glinda on formal visits only, although many of her servants also knew how to control it. It was drawn by twenty-four snow white swans that flew through the air.
Miles and miles, and hours and hours, the Sawhorse and the servant pursued the glorious Chariot. Many rivers were swum and fences jumped to Tymlie's surprised. She had never ridden before and hadn't considered these obstacles. Soon it became light.
"Why this country is all yellow!" exclaimed Tymlie.
"Yes. This country is the western country of the Winkies where everything is yellow," answered the Sawhorse.
"Oh, how pretty. I've never been outside the Quadling country," replied the girl.
"Yes. and I imagine with your bright red looks, we'd be an easy sight to see if that renegade servant were to turn around," muttered the beast.
But Crysta never turned around, so intent was she in her journey. No-one knew where in Oz she had come from. Surely no-one in Oz had such white hair and eyebrows, or so cold a manner. Her skin had a slight tinge, like ice, but very slight and hard to distinguish at a distance.
Finally the chariot lowered to the ground in front of a small cottage. Crysta stepped out of the chariot and walked through the front door of the small house. Fortunately she didn't look back as our heroes had nowhere to hide in the tall grass. Once she was in the cottage the snuck to the window and Tymlie spied through.
The inside of the cottage was a single room as was the style of the Winkie Country. In front of the stove sat an old man, at least he looked old with white hair and bluish skin. But as he turned to greet Crysta, Tymlie noticed he had no wrinkles. His skin and hair were exactly like Crysta's.
"Hello Daughter," he greeted the evil servant, "what brings you to visit me?"
"Father," she answered, "the Oz people are planning a journey to Florimdor."
"But why daughter?"
"I don't know. I entered to clean a spill a spoiled brat of a servant had made and I overheard the one-legged sailor known as Cap'n Bill plan a journey to Florimdor."
"Just he alone?"
"No, he would also take his daughter Trot, but that would be all."
"Trot's not his daughter. She's just his companion. But how do they plan to travel?"
"They shall travel to Ix, and I imagine that they'll buy or rent a boat."
"We must stop them."
"Yes, Father, I brought Glinda's Book of Records so she will never know of our plans."
"Very good, Daughter, but Glinda is a good friend of Princess Ozma of Oz who owns the Powerful Magic Picture. This picture will show anyone or any scene desired. With it she can find our cottage and the magic book. As well she can follow the travels of the sailor man unless we also steal this picture."
"Oh, dear" Said Crysta.
Her father merely shrugged and threw many powders into the stove. Suddenly there was a purple flash and in the center of the stove was a gold framed picture of a calm countryside. Suddenly it changed to a picture of a forest, then a lake.
"This" said Crysta's father, "is the famous Magic Picture of Oz. Bring me the Magic Book." Crysta did. "I shall place them both in this wicker trunk." He did. "Now they'll never be found by the Oz folk; at least not until we've completed our plans. Daughter, bring me that small notebook beside the stove.
"Now" chanted the evil father
Notebook will you kindly show
Just how big you'd like to grow"
Slowly the notebook grew until it was the exact size and shape of Glinda's Magic Book.
"Crysta, return to the palace- there are still a few hours before anyone will awake- and place this book in Glinda's Studio. It is exactly like Glinda's actual book even in the writing except it won't write anything new and it has no mention of our plans. It should fool her for a couple of days. Now remember, always be calm. Even when she finds it's a fake, she'll not be able to use her magic to find the thief. That spell only works when the thief is from Oz or when she places some dirt from the thief's land in her mouth. And she has no dirt from our land."
"Yes, Father, and while she sleeps I'll replace her real gold key and take back my bedroom key."
"Good girl. Now, I must go to Queen Zixi of Ix's palace and warn her of the sailor's journey."
The evil father went to the cupboard and removed what looked like a simple spring scale. After placing it on the floor, he proceeded to adjust the dial. "Now, Ix is to the northeast of here so now it should be set right" he muttered.
He then stepped on the scale and BOING! was thrown clear to the ceiling where he promptly vanished.
"Ah good" chuckled Crysta "my dear father has just flown to Ix by his by his scalaporter. Now I must return to the Quadling country for it's getting quite light and soon the sun will rise and then it will only be a short time when the palace awakens."
Dragging the huge imitation Magic Book, she boarded Glinda's flying chariot and flew away.
"Quick" cried Tymlie "we must return the real Book and Picture." She ran into the cottage and tugged at the lid of the wicker trunk but by some magic it was sealed shut.
"Oh what shall we do now?" she wailed.
"Quick Little One" answered the Sawhorse at her side "Climb up on my back and we'll warn Glinda and thwart their plans."
Tymlie eagerly mounted the wooden friend and away went the Sawhorse, quick as the wind.
But...unfortunately, his first step placed him directly upon the magic scalaporter and the next thing they knew, Tymlie and the wooden horse were flying toward the ceiling and then, they promptly vanished.
"Well, have you found any sign of him?" asked Dorothy when Scraps returned.
"None what-so-ever" answered the Patchwork Girl while somersaulting across the floor. "Wherever that wily Sawhorse is hiding, he's certainly doing a good job."
"And Glinda's servant Tymlie Tell is also missing" added the Scarecrow. "We last saw her in the middle of the night when she was anxiously looking for the Sawhorse. We didn't see either of the two after that."
"But why?" asked Glinda. "She's usually such a good servant. Why should she run away with the Sawhorse in the night and not return?"
"I can't make any sense out of it" admitted Ozma. "I suggest we all return to the Royal Palace and look for them in the Magic Picture.:
That's a good idea, Ozma, but without the Sawhorse who'll carry the red wagon?" asked Dorothy.
"Oh, we can leave it here and walk" stated the spry Wizard. "If we leave soon, we can make it to the palace by tomorrow afternoon--and the country is pleasant."
"Oh, that sounds nice, but without the Sawhorse Trot and Cap'n Bill can't start their journey" said Betsy.
"Oh, don' go a-worrin' 'bout us, Mate. We can allus raft up to the Gill'kin lan'." answered Cap'n Bill.
"But you then couldn't cross the Impassable Desert unless-"began Glinda and then she ran off.
"What she do thet fer?" questioned Cap'n Bill.
"Glinda never does anything foolish" replied Ozma.
In a few moments the good Sorceress returned with a more dignified gait.
"Here Cap'n" she held out her hand in which were four large white tablets each marked with the letters TW. "When you reach the Impassable Desert, place two of these tablets in the nearest body of water you can find. Thus you shall safely cross the desert. But remember, until use they must be kept dry."
Cap'n Bill accepted the tablets graciously. "Aye, I'll guard 'em with my life. Thank ye' kindly." He placed them in his handy steel box amid matches, fish hooks, candle-stubs and various other handy objects. Cap'n Bill never went anywhere without his steel box and tool-heads--for one never could tell when they might come in handy.
Cap'n Bill was a practical man. Once he'd been a sailor on the rolling seas but one day he lost his left leg in a bad accident. With a new wooden-leg to replace his lost meat one, the old sailor settled as best he could to life on the mainland as companion and guardian for baby Trot.
As Trot got older, she grew to love the old sailor. His long tales of adventures and sea-faring were an endless delight to the small girl. On fine days they would row out on their little rowboat and explore the many wondrous caves. On one such day, their small boat was caught in a whirlpool and cast into an underwater cave. From there they journeyed through subterranean tunnels until they found themselves in the land of Oz where they've lived ever since.
The company departed, thanking Glinda for her hospitality and invited her to the Royal Palace for dinner anytime she pleased.
"And if that nice servant Tymlie Tell shows up, bring her too. I'm sure she'd like to see the Emerald City" invited Dorothy.
The day was pleasant and the small red flowers were in bloom They walked steadily northward, resting occasionally to smell the fragrant blossoms. Soon they arrived at the great Quadling River.
"Waal, I guess we part company here" said Cap'n Bill, "fer I think Trot 'n' me oughter build a raft an' raft up."
"Very wise" answered the Wizard, "but wait a minute. I have some thing which will certainly help you." He rummaged through his small black bag.
"Here you are," he said pulling out a small black jar. "Rub this ointment on your raft, and it will always float northwardly, despite any river current."
"Oh, thank you. Now we'll have no problem getting to Ix" beamed Trot.
Everyone shook hands and wished them luck and then proceeded across the Quadling bridge.
Cap'n Bill went to the nearest group of trees and began to look for a short branch.
"Here's one Cap'n," cried Trot who know just he wanted.
Cap'n Bill scratched the red fringe of his whiskers which grew around his face. The branch was just thick enough to wrap his fingers around and was about half the length of his arm. "`S a trifle short, Trot," he said, "but it has a nice thickness to it. Yep, that'll jes' 'bout fix the ticket."
Cap'n Bill reached into his pocket and pulled out his large penknife. He whittled one end of the branch to a sharp point and then handed the knife to Trot. "Kerful o' the blade. It's sharp" he said. Trot took the knife and proceeded to cut down the thick vines which grew around the trees.
Cap'n Bill extracted a small hatchet blade and placed his newly carved stake through the eye of the blade. He then took a large rock from the riverbed and pounded the head of his new tool until the hatchet blade was firm. The sailor walked to the thinnest and tallest tree and chopped it down with his new hatchet. Once the tree was felled he chopped down two more.
By this time Trot had gathered a whole bushel full of vine. The young girl asked Cap'n Bill for his fishhook, some matches, and a bit of string which the old man obligingly gave. She then tied the hook to the string, found a strawberry growing in a patch and placed it on the hook and threw the into the river while holding her end of the string. After a long and patient wait a large trout with red stripes down it's belly bit into the berry and was caught. Trot gathered small scraps of bark which she placed in a small pile and lit with the matches. In the center of the flames, she put small rocks about half the size of her fist. When the rocks became hot, she spread the fish over the rocks. This way the fish would cook without falling in the ashes.
Cap'n Bill had just finished chopping the three trees into eight foot long logs and was wiping his bald head with a red and white handkerchief. Together he and Trot, used the vines, to bind the logs into a sturdy raft. When this hard work was done, it was quite late and they were both hungry so they eagerly gulped down the baked trout.
After a desert of wild strawberries, Cap'n Bill lay back and said "Now's all's we gotta do is put on the Wizard's magic potion an' cast off."
"Yes, Cap'n but the raft needs a name," replied Trot.
"Right you are, Trot. As it's ol' Joe we is aimin' t' rescue, I b'leive it'd be quite fittin' to name our raft the Gladsome after the proud ship my brother used to cap'n 'fore it went down an' my poor brother, Cap'n Joe, was fishified," answered the sailor
"The Gladsome" mused the girl after a pause. "I like that."
Soon they applied the Wizard's magic salve and pushed the wooden raft into the river and jumped aboard. "Whee!" cried Trot, "This is wonderful." And indeed it was. The beautiful scenery passed by as the good raft floated downstream. Aboard the passengers were breathing the clean country air with sprays of water refreshing their tired souls. Soon a smaller river flowed down from the north and joined the Quadling. Rather than continuing down the Quadling River, the raft suddenly turned and went up the smaller river.
"Oh, look, Cap'n" cried Trot. "It's working. We're floating UPSTREAM! It's wonderful."
"That it is, Mate. Why we might not e'en have t' think a bit on this trip. The Gladsome may do it all fer us."
When Trot awoke the next morning, she found the Gladsome beached by the bank of a clear river with Cap'n Bill snoring peacefully by its side. The river was small-- only fifteen feet across and about five feet deep-- but the current was swift. It ran northward through a deep valley with rolling plains of purple grass and lavender bushes. All the leaves of the trees and blades of grass were purple so the little girl knew at once they were in the Gilliken region of Oz.
"Well, here's breakfast anyway," she said as she approached the first tree which was loaded with luscious purple plums. She gathered a small armload. At the next tree she picked a large handful of healthy nuts. At a boysenberry bush she picked the dark juicy purple berries to her heart's content. She carried her harvest in the folds of her blue cotton skirt. Back at the Gladsome Cap'n Bill was now awake, puffing on his pipe.
Although it was quite light it was very early and the sun wouldn't rise for a couple of hours. "Good Morning, Cap'n," greeted the girl. "Where are we?"
"Oh, I'd say 'bout half way through the Gill'ken country," answered the sailor.
"Half way! Why we were still in the Quadling country when I fell asleep."
"Aye, but only at the nuther-most part. A hour later we passed through th' green place, you know, the area aroun' the Em'rald City. And two more hours we was hal'way this here purple country. An' then, I felt I needed a little shut-eye."
"Why if the current holds up we ought to reach the deadly dessert by sunrise. With any luck, we might even make it to the sea by night-fall."
"Yup," responded the kindly Cap'n, "if the current holds up. But don' fergit, Trot that'd be a might tirin' day and I don't think we kin get through Ix in mere one day, not without the sawhorse."
"We can raft," suggested the girl
"We kin, but I doubt if Ix has as miny river's 's Oz. Even 'f it did, we don't have no more magic potion t' go upstream. I don' think any rivers'll go our way 'ntill many miles pas' the desert. Raft building is long hard work. Nope, Trot, I think our best bet'll be to walk. If'n we get a early start we'll be at the sea tommory night."
"Well," stated the girl, "we can't get an early start, 'less we begin now. So let's go."