They slept that night in a warm little grove of trees, and set off gaily the next day under beautiful blue skies. The Scarecrow was whistling a Grunchkin walking song, and Dorothy and the Lion were exchanging puns, while the Tin Woodsfan walked in the rear, taking notes for a travel report which he would publish later.
They had covered almost all of the distance to the edge of Iz, and could smell the fumes of the burning desert of Public Contempt, when suddenly a horde of flying squirrels swooped down on the little band, from out of nowhere, and attacked them ferociously. The Tin Woodsfan swung his axe fiercely, and put many of the little animals out of action, but a dozen or more threw stones at him from behind, while yet more tugged at his axe until he had to drop it.
At least fifty of the small criminals attacked the Scarecrow, pulling his straw out, and chewing at his clothes, until the poor Scarecrow was absolutely helpless.
The Cowardly Lion was put to flight by a handful of squirrels pulling at his mane and tail. It would have been very easy to bat them out of the air with a sweep of his great paws, but they chattered so loudly about feuds and lion steak that he turned and ran for the forest.
But the fiendish squirrels did not hurt Dorothy in any way. Three hundred of them picked her up and flew off with her. The helpless Tin Woodsfan, protecting himself from stones and squirrels, watched her being carried off and could do nothing to help her. As she was carried out of sight, the criminal squirrels left the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodsfan, to follow their flock. One large squirrel, trying to fly away and take with him a whole load of stone to throw from above, couldn't get off the ground, and the Tin Woodsfan caught him, although the creature protested very loudly.
"Where have those others taken Dorothy?" shouted the Tin Woodsfan, shaking the squirrel.
"You let me go, you let me go!" chattered the squirrel, trying to throw stones. But he couldn't hurt the Woodsfan from such a short distance, so he just sat down where he was, and started counting the stones.
"Where is Dorothy?" the Tin Woodsfan demanded, keeping ahold of the little creature.
"Oh, they sort of just took her a little ways off," said the squirrel, and continued his counting.
The Scarecrow sat up, and patted himself into shape. "Where did they take her?" he demanded also.
"Well," said the animal, finishing his counting, "they took her to the castle of the Wicked Witch of the West."
"What?!" shouted the two friends, stepping back in astonishment.
"One hunnert and fifty," said the squirrel. "Lotta stones there. And I've got 'em all, every one." He stood up. "Yup, they took her to the witch. Be seeing ya." And before either of them could recover, the squirrel took off into the air, and disappeared from sight.
Just then the Lion came up very timidly and asked, "Are all of them gone?" When they told him they were, and told him where they had taken Dorothy, the Lion conquered his great fear of the animals, and strode off towards the West to rescue Dorothy, the Tin Woodsfan and the Scarecrow right behind him.
(Data entered by Judy Bemis)