Chapter IV
The Road Through the Forest
After a few hours the road began to be rough, and the walking grew so
difficult that the Scarecrow often stumbled over the yellow bricks, which
were here very uneven. Sometimes, indeed, they were broken or missing
altogether, leaving holes that Toto jumped across and Dorothy walked
around. As for the Scarecrow, having no brains, he walked straight ahead,
and so stepped into the holes and fell at full length on the hard bricks. It
never hurt him, however, and Dorothy would pick him up and set him upon
his feet again, while he joined her in laughing merrily at his own mishap.
The farms were not nearly so well cared for here as they were farther
back. There were fewer houses and fewer fruit trees, and the farther they
went the more dismal and lonesome the country became.
At noon they sat down by the roadside, near a little brook, and Dorothy
opened her basket and got out some bread. She offered a piece to the
Scarecrow, but he refused.
“I am never hungry,” he said, “and it is a lucky thing I am not, for my mouth
is only painted, and if I should cut a hole in it so I could eat, the straw I am
stuffed with would come out, and that would spoil the shape of my head.”
Dorothy saw at once that this was true, so she only nodded and went on
eating her bread.
“Tell me something about yourself and the country you came from,” said
the Scarecrow, when she had finished her dinner. So she told him all about
Kansas, and how gray everything was there, and how the cyclone had carried
her to this queer Land of Oz.
The Scarecrow listened carefully, and said, “I cannot understand why you
should wish to leave this beautiful country and go back to the dry, gray place
you call Kansas.”
“That is because you have no brains” answered the girl. “No matter how
dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would rather
live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful. There is no place
like home.”
The Scarecrow sighed.
“Of course I cannot understand it,” he said. “If your heads were stuffed
with straw, like mine, you would probably all live in the beautiful places,
and then Kansas would have no people at all. It is fortunate for Kansas that
you have brains.”
“Won’t you tell me a story, while we are resting?” asked the child.
The Scarecrow looked at her reproachfully, and answered:
“My life has been so short that I really know nothing whatever. I was only
made day before yesterday. What happened in the world before that time is
all unknown to me. Luckily, when the farmer made my head, one of the first
things he did was to paint my ears, so that I heard what was going on. There
was another Munchkin with him, and the first thing I heard was the farmer
saying, ‘How do you like those ears?’
“‘They aren’t straight,’” answered the other.
“‘Never mind,’” said the farmer. “‘They are ears just the same,’” which
was true enough.
“‘Now I’ll make the eyes,’” said the farmer. So he painted my right eye,
and as soon as it was finished I found myself looking at him and at everything
around me with a great deal of curiosity, for this was my first glimpse of the
world.
“‘That’s a rather pretty eye,’” remarked the Munchkin who was watching
the farmer. “‘Blue paint is just the color for eyes.’
“‘I think I’ll make the other a little bigger,’” said the farmer. And when the
second eye was done I could see much better than before. Then he made my
nose and my mouth. But I did not speak, because at that time I didn’t know
what a mouth was for. I had the fun of watching them make my body and my
arms and legs; and when they fastened on my head, at last, I felt very proud,
for I thought I was just as good a man as anyone.
“‘This fellow will scare the crows fast enough,’ said the farmer. ‘He looks
just like a man.’
“‘Why, he is a man,’ said the other, and I quite agreed with him. The
farmer carried me under his arm to the cornfield, and set me up on a tall
stick, where you found me. He and his friend soon after walked away and left
me alone.
“I did not like to be deserted this way. So I tried to walk after them. But
my feet would not touch the ground, and I was forced to stay on that pole. It
was a lonely life to lead, for I had nothing to think of, having been made such
a little while before. Many crows and other birds flew into the cornfield, but
as soon as they saw me they flew away again, thinking I was a Munchkin; and
this pleased me and made me feel that I was quite an important person. By
and by an old crow flew near me, and after looking at me carefully he
perched upon my shoulder and said:
“‘I wonder if that farmer thought to fool me in this clumsy manner. Any
crow of sense could see that you are only stuffed with straw.’ Then he
hopped down at my feet and ate all the corn he wanted. The other birds,
seeing he was not harmed by me, came to eat the corn too, so in a short time
there was a great flock of them about me.
“I felt sad at this, for it showed I was not such a good Scarecrow after all;
but the old crow comforted me, saying, ‘If you only had brains in your head
you would be as good a man as any of them, and a better man than some of
them. Brains are the only things worth having in this world, no matter
whether one is a crow or a man.’
“After the crows had gone I thought this over, and decided I would try hard
to get some brains. By good luck you came along and pulled me off the stake,
and from what you say I am sure the Great Oz will give me brains as soon as
we get to the Emerald City.”
“I hope so,” said Dorothy earnestly, “since you seem anxious to have
them.”
“Oh, yes; I am anxious,” returned the Scarecrow. “It is such an
uncomfortable feeling to know one is a fool.”
“Well,” said the girl, “let us go.” And she handed the basket to the
Scarecrow.
There were no fences at all by the roadside now, and the land was rough
and untilled. Toward evening they came to a great forest, where the trees
grew so big and close together that their branches met over the road of
yellow brick. It was almost dark under the trees, for the branches shut out the
daylight; but the travelers did not stop, and went on into the forest.
“If this road goes in, it must come out,” said the Scarecrow, “and as the
Emerald City is at the other end of the road, we must go wherever it leads
us.”
“Anyone would know that,” said Dorothy.
“Certainly; that is why I know it,” returned the Scarecrow. “If it required
brains to figure it out, I never should have said it.”
After an hour or so the light faded away, and they found themselves
stumbling along in the darkness. Dorothy could not see at all, but Toto could,
for some dogs see very well in the dark; and the Scarecrow declared he
could see as well as by day. So she took hold of his arm and managed to get
along fairly well.
“If you see any house, or any place where we can pass the night,” she said,
“you must tell me; for it is very uncomfortable walking in the dark.”
Soon after the Scarecrow stopped.
“I see a little cottage at the right of us,” he said, “built of logs and
branches. Shall we go there?”
“Yes, indeed,” answered the child. “I am all tired out.”
So the Scarecrow led her through the trees until they reached the cottage,
and Dorothy entered and found a bed of dried leaves in one corner. She lay
down at once, and with Toto beside her soon fell into a sound sleep. The
Scarecrow, who was never tired, stood up in another corner and waited
patiently until morning came.
