"Well, it won't hurt me!" boasted the Scarecrow, holding to his hat with both hands. He had lost the balloons long ago. "And I promise to pick up the rest of you as soon as possible. Is—there—anything in that kit-bag for breaks, sprains and bruises, Wiz?"
"Oh, hold your tongue!" snapped Jellia, trying to peer over the hedge. "We're not going to crash at all! We'll probably get stuck on a steeple or tower!"
"How'd Nick manage with his flying?" shrieked the Wizard, who was anxious to change the subject. The less said about their landing the better. Of course, they could take to the flying sticks and abandon the Cowardly Lion, but that did not seem exactly sporting. So he resolutely put the thought of it out of his mind.
"Grand, just grand!" answered Jellia, making a megaphone of her hands. "Nick had the Oztober going smoothly as a swallow."
"That's good!" boomed the Wizard, beating his arms against his breast to keep warm. "Maybe he'll get the best of Strut yet and bring the Oztober safely down. I'd certainly like to have one ship left to present to Ozma!"
"How long'll it be before we do get down?" called Dorothy, as the Wizard paused for breath. "Seems to me we're falling faster. FASTER AND FASTER!"
"Any minute now," predicted the Wizard, popping his head over the top of the hedge. "Oh! It's going to be all right!" he shouted joyfully. "We're coming down right in the middle of a great big—"
SPLASH!!!
Before the Wizard could finish his sentence, the block of ice struck the smooth surface of a large, mountain lake, and went completely under. As it came bobbing to the top, its drenched and shivering passengers looked at one another with mingled dismay and relief. Dorothy, picking up the Wizard's coat, handed it back and then went slipping and sliding over to help the Scarecrow, who was too water-soaked and sodden even to move.