"What does that sound mean?" asked the horse.
"Don't pay any attention to it," said Tip. "I'm just whistling, and that only means I'm pretty well satisfied."
"I'd whistle myself, if I could push my lips together," remarked Jack. "I fear, dear father, that in some respects I am sadly lacking."
After journeying on for some distance the narrow path they were following turned into a broad road-way, paved with yellow brick. By the side of the road Tip noticed a sign-post that read:
"NINE MILES TO THE EMERALD CITY."
But it was now growing dark, so he decided to camp for the night by the roadside and to resume the journey next morning by daybreak. He led the Saw-Horse to a grassy mound upon which grew several bushy trees, and carefully assisted the Pumpkinhead to alight.
"I think I'll lay you upon the ground, overnight," said the boy. "You will be safer that way."
"How about me?" asked the Saw-Horse.
"It won't hurt you to stand," replied Tip; "and, as you can't sleep, you may as well watch out and see that no one comes near to disturb us."