"Here we are, safe in the Land of Oz!" cried the
Scarecrow joyfully.
"Oh, are we?" asked Trot, looking around her curiously.
She could see the shadows of stately trees and the
outlines of rolling hills; beneath her feet was soft
turf, but otherwise the subdued light of the moon
disclosed nothing clearly.
"Seems jus' like any other country," was Cap'n Bill's
comment.
"But it isn't," the Scarecrow assured him. "You are now
within the borders of the most glorious fairyland in all
the world. This part of it is just a corner of the
Quadling Country, and the least interesting portion of
it. It's not very thickly settled, around here, I'll
admit, but --"
He was interrupted by a sudden whir and a rush of air
as the four Orks mounted into the sky.
"Good night!" called the shrill voices of the strange
creatures, and although Trot shouted "Good night!" as
loudly as she could, the little girl was almost ready to
cry because the Orks had not waited to be properly
thanked for all their kindness to her and to Cap'n Bill.
But the Orks were gone, and thanks for good deeds do
not amount to much except to prove one's politeness.
"Well, friends," said the Scarecrow, "we mustn't stay
here in the meadows all night, so let us find a pleasant
place to sleep. Not that it matters to me, in the least,
for I never sleep; but I know that meat people like to
shut their eyes and lie still during the dark hours."
"I'm pretty tired," admitted Trot, yawning as she
followed the straw man along a tiny path, "so, if you
don't find a house handy, Cap'n Bill and I will sleep
under the trees, or even on this soft grass."
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