The Scarecrow, who is a gentleman of
great wisdom, thinks I'm beautiful," retorted
Scraps.
"Never mind all that," said Dorothy. "Tell us,
good Quadling, how we can get across the river."
"I don't know," replied the Quadling.
"Don't you ever cross it?" asked the girl.
"Never."
"Don't travelers cross it?"
"Not to my knowledge," said he.
They were much surprised to hear this, and
the man added: "It's a pretty big river, and the
current is strong. I know a man who lives on
the opposite bank, for I've seen him there a good
many years; but we've never spoken because
neither of us has ever crossed over."
"That's queer," said the Scarecrow. "Don't you
own a boat?"
The man shook his head.
"Nor a raft?"
"Where does this river go to?" asked Dorothy.
"That way," answered the man, pointing with
one hand, "it goes into the Country of the
Winkies, which is ruled by the Tin Emperor,
who must be a mighty magician because he's
all made of tin, and yet he's alive. And that
way," pointing with the other hand, "the river
runs between two mountains where dangerous
people dwell."
The Scarecrow looked at the water before them.
"The current flows toward the Winkie Country,"
said he; "and so, if we had a boat, or a raft, the
river would float us there more quickly and more
easily than we could walk.
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