Dorothy's Mystical Adventures in Oz Part 33

Soon everyone was doing beautifully, swooping down on each other and veering away just in time to avoid a collision.

"Wheee!" squealed the Lioness. "This is fun!"

Everyone was having such a good time that they forgot about continuing their journey.

"All right, everyone," said the Witch. "I can see you are all accomplished flyers now. I believe we should be on our way."

"Absolutely," said Dorothy, who was enjoying herself as much as anyone.

"All right. Here we go." Up, up, and away they went, high into the sky.

"Look down," shouted the Witch to Dorothy.

"Oh, how breathtaking!" gasped Dorothy.

The Land of Oz stretched out beneath them in a panorama of colors and shapes. The red country of the Quadlings was in the south. The blue territory of the Munchkins lay to the east. The western country of the Winkies was its proper yellow, while the purple Gillikin land was at the north. The sparkling green Emerald City, of course, was in the center.

As they flew back downward, they could make out more details.

"Look!" said Dorothy. "There's Octapongland directly below us!"

They could make out groups of Octapong scattered about, looking at them.

"Let's take a closer look!" shouted Dorothy.

Down they zoomed, over the heads of the Octapong. The Octapong stampeded like cattle, their eight legs running like the wind, with that one shoe going clippity-clop.

Dorothy shouted for the Octapong to stop, but to no avail. Pretty soon the Octapong had outpaced them, for they could run extremely fast. Up again they flew, as they were all anxious to reach the Emerald City.

Chapter Twenty-four:

At Last, The Emerald City

"Approaching Emerald City!" shouted the Lion.

"Point your broomsticks down," said the Witch. "We're coming in to land."

As they zoomed down, people strolling about the streets looked up.

"Run!" they heard someone shout. "Run for your life! It's the Wicked Witch!"

"Oh, dear," said the Witch. "It's these clothes again. They never fail to put a scare into people. My pointed hat especially scares them."

"Then take it off," shouted Dorothy above the wind. "It won't be long before you'll be rid of the witch-clothes, too. I don't think, though, that the people are as frightened of those as they are of the broomsticks. I should have thought of that before."

Everyone landed without mishap. Of course, the streets were now deserted. They walked across the street to the Scarecrow's palace.

Oddly, the entrance was barred.

"I'm locked out of my own castle?" said the Scarecrow, as he rang the bell.

A little door in the big door opened, and the Guardian of the Gates peered out at them. "Who are you?" he said, rather sharply.

"I am your king, as appointed by the Wonderful Wizard of Oz himself.

This is Dorothy, and we are her friends."

"What about her?" said the guard, staring at the Witch suspiciously.

"She's our friend, too," said the Tin Woodman.

"I don't believe you," said the guardian, and he slammed the little door shut.

The Tin Woodman banged on the door with his fist.

"Go away!" shouted the guardian.

The Tin Woodman banged on the door again, this time using his ax handle.

"I said, GO AWAY!" The guardian was obviously getting quite perturbed.

"What shall we do now?" asked the Tin Woodman.

"Let me try a different tactic," said Dorothy. She knocked on the door lightly and said, "Please open the door. We can explain."

The little door opened slowly. "I'll say you need to explain," said the guardian. "n.o.body has a Wicked Witch for a friend -- except another Wicked Witch."

"Well, I'm not a Wicked Witch," said Dorothy. "I'm a friend of the Scarecrow's."

"She's not," said the guardian. "And she's not a friend of the Scarecrow's. And if she's your friend, your scarecrow must be an impostor!" With that, the door slammed shut again.

"Now what?" said the Scarecrow. "He doesn't even believe I'm really me!"

"I have an idea," said Dorothy. "Knock on the door again."

The Tin Woodman knocked loudly.

"What is it this time?" said the guardian impatiently, while opening the little door slightly.

"You don't understand," said Dorothy. "She's our prisoner."

"I thought you said she's your /friend/," retorted the guardian, mockingly.

"Well...." Dorothy hesitated.

"Well, what? I'm waiting," replied the man.