"We couldn't look as funny as you, if we did," replied one old crow, the king of them. "But what has gone wrong with you?"
"The Tin Woodman, my dear friend and companion, has fallen overboard and is now on the bottom of the river," said the Scarecrow. "I'm trying to get him out again, but I fear I shall not succeed."
"Why, it's easy enough," declared the old crow. "Tie a string to him and all of my crows will fly down, take hold of the string, and pull him up out of the water. There are hundreds of us here, so our united strength could lift much more than that."
"But I can't tie a string to him," replied the Scarecrow. "My straw is so light that I am unable to dive through the water. I've tried it, and knocked one eye out."
"Can't you fish for him?"
"Ah, that is a good idea," said the Scarecrow. "I'll make the attempt."
He found a fishline in the boat, with a stout hook at the end of it. No bait was needed, so the Scarecrow dropped the hook into the water till it touched the Woodman.
"Hook it into a joint," advised the crow, who was now perched upon a branch that stuck far out and bent down over the water.
The Scarecrow tried to do this, but having only one eye he could not see the joints very clearly.
"Hurry up, please," begged the Tin Woodman; "you've no idea how damp it is down here."