"Why, you saved the ship. You stopped her. See, all the buttons are up again!" Removing Jellia's clutching fingers gently from the table top, Nick discovered a flat bar on the under side of the board. As soon as Jellia pressed the bar, all the buttons had popped back to their normal position. "So THAT'S it!" exclaimed Nick, rubbing his tin forehead anxiously. "Each time you want to change the course, you press this bar and then begin all over again."
"But now we're sinking," groaned Jellia. And sinking herself, into the seat back of Nick, she stared at him with round, desperate eyes.
"Sinking, are we? Well, I'll soon put a stop to that!" Pouncing on the green button to inflate the Oztober's gas bag, Nick pressed it quickly, for of course, as soon as Jellia had touched the bar, the buttons all had sprung up and the magic gas had begun to seep out of the plane's balloon attachment. As it again filled and became taut, the slow downward drift of the ship ceased, and again it hung motionless between a cloud and a star. "Now!" breathed the Tin Woodman eyeing the button board with grim purpose and determination, "Now we can take our time and start off right."
"Oh, Nick! Must we go through all that again?" Jellia began to cry softly, drying her eyes on the sash of her party dress. "Oh, Nick, I never thought flying would be like this. Please can't we just stay as we are?"
"Certainly not," said the Tin Woodman briskly. "Hanging 'round the sky is dangerous. We might be hit by a shooting star or even by a meteor. Now, just trust yourself to me, my dear Jellia. Remember I am the Emperor of the East!" Nick smote his tin chest a resounding blow. "And after ruling the Winkies all these years, I surely can handle one small plane!"
Reassuring himself, if not Jellia, the Tin Woodman searched the array of buttons for one marked "slow." After he had found it, he slowly began to map his course. He would continue to fly up, for a time. Next he would take a horizontal direction until he grew more accustomed to piloting the Ozoplane. Then, as night passed and the sun rose, he would zig and zag slowly downward and make a safe landing near the Emerald City.
The Soldier with Green Whiskers had regained consciousness, only to fall at once into a heavy slumber. His snores blended nicely with Jellia's sobs, as Nick Chopper pushed the "up," the "South" and the "slow" buttons. Braced for a new shock, Jellia grasped the arms of her seat. But this time the Oztober soared gently and gracefully aloft, the motion of the plane so smooth and pleasant, Ozma's little Maid in Waiting soon forgot all her fears. Relaxing against the soft green cushions, she, too, fell asleep. This left only Nick awake and alert. But if the Wizard had searched all over Oz, he could not have found a better pilot than the Tin Woodman. Being practically tireless and requiring neither food nor rest, he could keep his place at the wheel for days if necessary. Delighted at the way the Oztober responded to his clever manipulation of the wheel and buttons, he flew up and up and on and on, scarcely realizing the distance he was putting between himself and Oz. Glancing out the round window beside him, Nick viewed the starry expanse of the upper air with growing interest and enthusiasm. Sometimes he was almost tempted to waken Jellia to point out the splendid cloud mountains and cities they were passing. As he swept along, the sky turned from deep blue to grey and was now suffused with the rainbow tints of early morning. Switching off the lights, the Tin Woodman slightly changed his course.
"I really need a lot more practice before I go back or try to make a safe landing," he observed softly to himself. "It never would do to crack up a valuable ship like this." But the truth of the matter was, the Tin Woodman did not wish to turn back. And after all—who was to insist? The Soldier and Jellia still slept on, and far ahead, between a bank of fog and an arch of platinum sun rays, loomed a long, lavender crescent. Nick even fancied he could see people moving about its glittering surface.