AbdulHannanMujawar/ch_development · Datasets at Hugging Face

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Jim, who was in advance, saw the last stair before him and stuck his
head above the rocky sides of the stairway. Then he halted, ducked down
and began to back up, so that he nearly fell with the buggy onto the
others.

"Let's go down again!" he said, in his hoarse voice.

"Nonsense!" snapped the tired Wizard. "What's the matter with you, old
man?"

"Everything," grumbled the horse. "I've taken a look at this place, and
it's no fit country for real creatures to go to. Everything's dead, up
there--no flesh or blood or growing thing anywhere."

"Never mind; we can't turn back," said Dorothy; "and we don't intend to
stay there, anyhow."

"It's dangerous," growled Jim, in a stubborn tone.

"See here, my good steed," broke in the Wizard, "little Dorothy and I
have been in many queer countries in our travels, and always escaped
without harm. We've even been to the marvelous Land of Oz--haven't we,
Dorothy?--so we don't much care what the Country of the Gargoyles is
like. Go ahead, Jim, and whatever happens we'll make the best of it."

"All right," answered the horse; "this is your excursion, and not mine;
so if you get into trouble don't blame me."

With this speech he bent forward and dragged the buggy up the remaining
steps. The others followed and soon they were all standing upon a broad
platform and gazing at the most curious and startling sight their eyes
had ever beheld.

"The Country of the Gargoyles is all wooden!" exclaimed Zeb; and so it
was. The ground was sawdust and the pebbles scattered around were hard
knots from trees, worn smooth in course of time. There were odd wooden
houses, with carved wooden flowers in the front yards. The tree-trunks
were of coarse wood, but the leaves of the trees were shavings. The
patches of grass were splinters of wood, and where neither grass nor
sawdust showed was a solid wooden flooring. Wooden birds fluttered
among the trees and wooden cows were browsing upon the wooden grass; but
the most amazing things of all were the wooden people--the creatures
known as Gargoyles.

These were very numerous, for the palace was thickly inhabited, and a
large group of the queer people clustered near, gazing sharply upon the
strangers who had emerged from the long spiral stairway.

The Gargoyles were very small of stature, being less than three feet in
height. Their bodies were round, their legs short and thick and their
arms extraordinarily long and stout. Their heads were too big for their
bodies and their faces were decidedly ugly to look upon. Some had long,
curved noses and chins, small eyes and wide, grinning mouths. Others had
flat noses, protruding eyes, and ears that were shaped like those of an
elephant. There were many types, indeed, scarcely two being alike; but
all were equally disagreeable in appearance. The tops of their heads had
no hair, but were carved into a variety of fantastic shapes, some having
a row of points or balls around the top, other designs resembling
flowers or vegetables, and still others having squares that looked like
waffles cut criss-cross on their heads. They all wore short wooden wings
which were fastened to their wooden bodies by means of wooden hinges
with wooden screws, and with these wings they flew swiftly and
noiselessly here and there, their legs being of little use to them.

This noiseless motion was one of the most peculiar things about the
Gargoyles. They made no sounds at all, either in flying or trying to
speak, and they conversed mainly by means of quick signals made with
their wooden fingers or lips. Neither was there any sound to be heard
anywhere throughout the wooden country. The birds did not sing, nor did
the cows moo; yet there was more than ordinary activity everywhere.

The group of these queer creatures which was discovered clustered near
the stairs at first remained staring and motionless, glaring with evil
eyes at the intruders who had so suddenly appeared in their land. In
turn the Wizard and the children, the horse and the kitten, examined the
Gargoyles with the same silent attention.

"There's going to be trouble, I'm sure," remarked the horse. "Unhitch
those tugs, Zeb, and set me free from the buggy, so I can fight
comfortably."

"Jim's right," sighed the Wizard. "There's going to be trouble, and my
sword isn't stout enough to cut up those wooden bodies--so I shall have
to get out my revolvers."

He got his satchel from the buggy and, opening it, took out two deadly
looking revolvers that made the children shrink back in alarm just to
look at.

"What harm can the Gurgles do?" asked Dorothy. "They have no weapons to
hurt us with."

"Each of their arms is a wooden club," answered the little man, "and I'm
sure the creatures mean mischief, by the looks of their eyes. Even these
revolvers can merely succeed in damaging a few of their wooden bodies,
and after that we will be at their mercy."

"But why fight at all, in that case?" asked the girl.

"So I may die with a clear conscience," returned the Wizard, gravely.

Jim, who was in advance, saw the last stair before him and stuck his

head above the rocky sides of the stairway. Then he halted, ducked down

and began to back up, so that he nearly fell with the buggy onto the

others.

"Let's go down again!" he said, in his hoarse voice.

"Nonsense!" snapped the tired Wizard. "What's the matter with you, old

man?"

"Everything," grumbled the horse. "I've taken a look at this place, and

it's no fit country for real creatures to go to. Everything's dead, up

there--no flesh or blood or growing thing anywhere."

"Never mind; we can't turn back," said Dorothy; "and we don't intend to

stay there, anyhow."

"It's dangerous," growled Jim, in a stubborn tone.

"See here, my good steed," broke in the Wizard, "little Dorothy and I

have been in many queer countries in our travels, and always escaped

without harm. We've even been to the marvelous Land of Oz--haven't we,

Dorothy?--so we don't much care what the Country of the Gargoyles is

like. Go ahead, Jim, and whatever happens we'll make the best of it."

"All right," answered the horse; "this is your excursion, and not mine;

so if you get into trouble don't blame me."

With this speech he bent forward and dragged the buggy up the remaining

steps. The others followed and soon they were all standing upon a broad

platform and gazing at the most curious and startling sight their eyes

had ever beheld.

"The Country of the Gargoyles is all wooden!" exclaimed Zeb; and so it

was. The ground was sawdust and the pebbles scattered around were hard

knots from trees, worn smooth in course of time. There were odd wooden

houses, with carved wooden flowers in the front yards. The tree-trunks

were of coarse wood, but the leaves of the trees were shavings. The

patches of grass were splinters of wood, and where neither grass nor

sawdust showed was a solid wooden flooring. Wooden birds fluttered

among the trees and wooden cows were browsing upon the wooden grass; but

the most amazing things of all were the wooden people--the creatures

known as Gargoyles.

These were very numerous, for the palace was thickly inhabited, and a

large group of the queer people clustered near, gazing sharply upon the

strangers who had emerged from the long spiral stairway.

The Gargoyles were very small of stature, being less than three feet in

height. Their bodies were round, their legs short and thick and their

arms extraordinarily long and stout. Their heads were too big for their

bodies and their faces were decidedly ugly to look upon. Some had long,

curved noses and chins, small eyes and wide, grinning mouths. Others had

flat noses, protruding eyes, and ears that were shaped like those of an

elephant. There were many types, indeed, scarcely two being alike; but

all were equally disagreeable in appearance. The tops of their heads had

no hair, but were carved into a variety of fantastic shapes, some having

a row of points or balls around the top, other designs resembling

flowers or vegetables, and still others having squares that looked like

waffles cut criss-cross on their heads. They all wore short wooden wings

which were fastened to their wooden bodies by means of wooden hinges

with wooden screws, and with these wings they flew swiftly and

noiselessly here and there, their legs being of little use to them.

This noiseless motion was one of the most peculiar things about the

Gargoyles. They made no sounds at all, either in flying or trying to

speak, and they conversed mainly by means of quick signals made with

their wooden fingers or lips. Neither was there any sound to be heard

anywhere throughout the wooden country. The birds did not sing, nor did

the cows moo; yet there was more than ordinary activity everywhere.

The group of these queer creatures which was discovered clustered near

the stairs at first remained staring and motionless, glaring with evil

eyes at the intruders who had so suddenly appeared in their land. In

turn the Wizard and the children, the horse and the kitten, examined the

Gargoyles with the same silent attention.

"There's going to be trouble, I'm sure," remarked the horse. "Unhitch

those tugs, Zeb, and set me free from the buggy, so I can fight

comfortably."

"Jim's right," sighed the Wizard. "There's going to be trouble, and my

sword isn't stout enough to cut up those wooden bodies--so I shall have

to get out my revolvers."

He got his satchel from the buggy and, opening it, took out two deadly

looking revolvers that made the children shrink back in alarm just to

look at.

"What harm can the Gurgles do?" asked Dorothy. "They have no weapons to

hurt us with."

"Each of their arms is a wooden club," answered the little man, "and I'm

sure the creatures mean mischief, by the looks of their eyes. Even these

revolvers can merely succeed in damaging a few of their wooden bodies,

and after that we will be at their mercy."

"But why fight at all, in that case?" asked the girl.

"So I may die with a clear conscience," returned the Wizard, gravely.