The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Лаймен Фрэнк Баум
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stuck on a pole in the middle of a river. I am afraid I shall never have any brains, after all!”
Down the stream the raft floated, and the poor Scarecrow was left far behind. Then the Lion said, “Something must be done to save us. I think I can swim to the shore and pull the raft after me, if you will only hold fast to the tip of my tail.”
So he sprang into the water, and the Tin Woodman caught fast hold of his tail. Then the Lion began to swim with all his might toward the shore. It was hard work, although he was so big. But by and by they were drawn out of the current, and then Dorothy took the Tin Woodman’s long pole and helped push the raft to the land.
They were all tired out when they reached the shore at last and stepped off upon the pretty green grass, and they also knew that the stream had carried them a long way past the road of yellow brick that led to the Emerald City.
“What shall we do now?” asked the Tin Woodman, as the Lion lay down on the grass to let the sun dry him.
“We must get back to the road, in some way,” said Dorothy.
“The best plan will be to walk along the riverbank until we come to the road again,” remarked the Lion.
So, when they were rested, Dorothy picked up her basket and they started along the grassy bank, back to the road from which the river had carried them. It was a lovely country, with plenty of flowers and fruit trees and sunshine to cheer them; and had they not felt so sorry for the poor Scarecrow, they could have been very happy.
They walked along as fast as they could, Dorothy only stopping once to pick a beautiful flower; and after a time the Tin Woodman cried out, “Look!”
Then they all looked at the river and saw the Scarecrow perched upon his pole in the middle of the water, looking very lonely and sad.
“What can we do to save him?” asked Dorothy.
The Lion and the Woodman both shook their heads, for they did not know. So they sat down upon the bank and gazed wistfully at the Scarecrow until a Stork flew by, who, upon seeing them, stopped to rest at the water’s edge.
“Who are you and where are you going?” asked the Stork.
“I am Dorothy,” answered the girl, “and these are my friends, the Tin Woodman and the Cowardly Lion. We are going to the Emerald City.”
“This isn’t the road,” said the Stork, as she twisted her long neck and looked sharply at the queer party.
“I know it,” returned Dorothy, “but we have lost the Scarecrow, and are wondering how we shall get him again.”
“Where is he?” asked the Stork.
“Over there in the river,” answered the little girl.
“If he weren’t so big and heavy I would get him for you,” remarked the Stork.
“He isn’t heavy a bit,” said Dorothy eagerly, “for he is stuffed with straw. If you will bring him back to us, we shall thank you ever and ever so much.”
“Well, I’ll try,” said the Stork. “But if I find he is too heavy to carry I shall have to drop him in the river again.”
So the big bird flew into the air and over the water till she came to where the Scarecrow was perched upon his pole. Then the Stork with her great claws grabbed the Scarecrow by the arm and carried him up into the air and back to the bank, where Dorothy and the Lion and the Tin Woodman and Toto were sitting.
When the Scarecrow found himself among his friends again, he was so happy that he hugged them all, even the Lion and Toto. And as they walked along he sang “Tol-de-ri-de-oh!” at every step, he felt so gay.
“I was afraid I should have to stay in the river forever,” he said, “but the kind Stork saved me. If I ever get any brains I shall find the Stork again and do her some kindness in return.”
“That’s all right,” said the Stork, who was flying along beside them. “I always like to help anyone in trouble. But I must go now, for my babies are waiting in the nest for me. I hope you will find the Emerald City and that Oz will help you.”
“Thank you,” replied Dorothy. Then the kind Stork flew into the air and was soon out of sight.
They walked along listening to the singing of the brightly colored birds and looking at the lovely flowers which now became so thick that the ground was carpeted with them. There were big yellow and white and blue and purple blossoms, besides great clusters of scarlet poppies, which were so brilliant in color they almost dazzled Dorothy’s eyes.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” the girl asked, as she breathed in the spicy scent of the bright flowers.
“I suppose so,” answered the Scarecrow. “When I have brains, I shall probably like them better.”
“If I only had a heart, I should love them,” added the Tin Woodman.
“I always did like flowers,” said the Lion. “They seem so helpless and frail. But there are none in the forest so bright as these.”
They now came upon more and more of the big scarlet poppies, and fewer and fewer of the other flowers. And soon they found themselves in the midst of a great meadow of poppies. Now it is well known that when there are many of these flowers together, their odor is so powerful that anyone who breathes it falls asleep. And if the sleeper is not carried away from the scent of the flowers, he sleeps on and on forever. But Dorothy did not know this, nor could she get away from the bright red flowers that were everywhere about. So presently her eyes grew heavy and she felt she must sit down to rest and to sleep.
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