Leaving the grove where they had slept, the Frogman and the Cookie Cook turned to the east to seek another house, and after a short walk came to one where the people received them very politely. The children stared rather hard at the big, pompous Frogman, but the woman of the house, when Cayke asked for something to eat, at once brought them food and said they were welcome to it. “Few people in need of help pass this way,” she remarked, “for the Winkies are all prosperous and love to stay in their own homes. But perhaps you are not a Winkie,” she added.
“No,” said Cayke, “I am a Yip, and my home is on a high mountain at the southeast of your country.”
“And the Frogman, is he also a Yip?”
“I do not know what he is, other than a very remarkable and highly educated creature,” replied the Cookie Cook. “But he has lived many years among the Yips, who have found him so wise and intelligent that they always go to him for advice.”
“May I ask why you have left your home and where you are going?” said the Winkie woman.
Then Cayke told her of the diamond-studded gold dishpan and how it had been mysteriously stolen from her house, after which she had discovered that she could no longer cook good cookies. So she had resolved to search until she found her dishpan again, because a Cookie cook who cannot cook good cookies is not of much use. The Frogman, who had wanted to see more of the world, had accompanied her to assist in the search. When the woman had listened to this story, she asked, “Then you have no idea as yet who has stolen your dishpan?”
“I only know it must have been some mischievous fairy, or a magician, or some such powerful person, because none other could have climbed the steep mountain to the Yip Country. And who else could have carried away my beautiful magic dishpan without being seen?”
The woman thought about this during the time that Cayke and the Frogman ate their breakfast. When they had finished, she said, “Where are you going next?”
“We have not decided,” answered the Cookie cook.
“Our plan,” explained the Frogman in his important way, “is to travel from place to place until we learn where the thief is located and then to force him to return the dishpan to its proper owner.”
“The plan is all right,” agreed the woman, “but it may take you a long time before you succeed, your method being sort of haphazard and indefinite. However, I advise you to travel toward the east.”
“Why?” asked the Frogman.
“Because if you went west, you would soon come to the desert, and also because in this part of the Winkie Country no one steals, so your time here would be wasted. But toward the east, beyond the river, live many strange people whose honesty I would not vouch for. Moreover, if you journey far enough east and cross the river for a second time, you will come to the Emerald City, where there is much magic and sorcery. The Emerald City is ruled by a dear little girl called Ozma, who also rules the Emperor of the Winkies and all the Land of Oz. So, as Ozma is a fairy, she may be able to tell you just who has taken your precious dishpan. Provided, of course, you do not find it before you reach her.”
“This seems to be to be excellent advice,” said the Frogman, and Cayke agreed with him.
“The most sensible thing for you to do,” continued the woman, “would be to return to your home and use another dishpan, learn to cook cookies as other people cook cookies, without the aid of magic. But if you cannot be happy without the magic dishpan you have lost, you are likely to learn more about it in the Emerald City than at any other place in Oz.”
They thanked the good woman, and on leaving her house faced the east and continued in that direction all the way. Toward evening they came to the west branch of the Winkie River and there, on the riverbank, found a ferryman who lived all alone in a little yellow house. This ferryman was a Winkie with a very small head and a very large body. He was sitting in his doorway as the travelers approached him and did not even turn his head to look at them.
“Good evening,” said the Frogman.
The ferryman made no reply.
“We would like some supper and the privilege of sleeping in your house until morning,” continued the Frogman. “At daybreak, we would like some breakfast, and then we would like to have you row us across the river.”
The ferryman neither moved nor spoke. He sat in his doorway and looked straight ahead. “I think he must be deaf and dumb,” Cayke whispered to her companion. Then she stood directly in front of the ferryman, and putting her mouth close to his ear, she yelled as loudly as she could, “Good evening!”
The ferryman scowled.
“Why do you yell at me, woman?” he asked.
“Can you hear what I say?” asked in her ordinary tone of voice.
“Of course,” replied the man.
“Then why didn’t you answer the Frogman?”
“Because,” said the ferryman, “I don’t understand the frog language.”
“He speaks the same words that I do and in the same way,” declared Cayke.
“Perhaps,” replied the ferryman, “but to me his voice sounded like a frog’s croak. I know that in the Land of Oz animals can speak our language, and so can the birds and bugs and fishes; but in MY ears, they sound merely like growls and chirps and croaks.”
“Why is that?” asked the Cookie Cook in surprise.
“Once, many years ago, I cut the tail off a fox which had taunted me, and I stole some birds’ eggs from a nest to make an omelet with, and also I pulled a fish from the river and left it lying on the bank to gasp for lack of water until it died. I don’t know why I did those wicked things, but I did them. So the Emperor of the Winkies—who is the Tin Woodman and has a very tender tin heart—punished me by denying me any communication with beasts, birds or fishes. I cannot understand them when they speak to me, although I know that other people can do so, nor can the creatures understand a word I say to them. Every time I meet one of them, I am reminded of my former cruelty, and it makes me very unhappy.”
“Really,” said Cayke, “I’m sorry for you, although the Tin Woodman is not to blame for punishing you.”
“What is he mumbling about?” asked the Frogman.
“He is talking to me, but you don’t understand him,” she replied. And then she told him of the ferryman’s punishment and afterward explained to the ferryman that they wanted to stay all night with him and be fed.
He gave them some fruit and bread, which was the only sort of food he had, and he allowed Cayke to sleep in a room of his cottage. But the Frogman he refused to admit to his house, saying that the frog’s presence made him miserable and unhappy. At no time would he look directly at the Frogman, or even toward him, fearing he would shed tears if he did so; so the big frog slept on the riverbank where he could hear little frogs croaking in the river all the night through. But that did not keep him awake; it merely soothed him to slumber, for he realized how much superior he was to them.
Just as the sun was rising on a new day, the ferryman rowed the two travelers across the river—keeping his back to the Frogman all the way—and then Cayke thanked him and bade him goodbye and the ferryman rowed home again.
On this side of the river, there were no paths at all, so it was evident they had reached a part of the country little frequented by travelers. There was a marsh at the south of them, sandhills at the north, and a growth of scrubby underbrush leading toward a forest at the east. So the east was really the least difficult way to go, and that direction was the one they had determined to follow.
Now the Frogman, although he wore green patent-leather shoes with ruby buttons, had very large and flat feet, and when he tramped through the scrub, his weight crushed down the underbrush and made a path for Cayke to follow him. Therefore they soon reached the forest, where the tall trees were set far apart but were so leafy that they shaded all the spaces between them with their branches. “There are no bushes here,” said Cayke, much pleased, “so we can now travel faster and with more comfort.”
