But at that moment a dreadful thing happened. Sprawled on a huge camp chair on the sloping terrace before the castle, its huge, red-bearded owner suddenly sighted the flying sticks and their riders. Seizing the long bow that lay beside him on the grass, he sent two arrows speeding upward, one right after the other. Each arrow found its mark and splintered a flying stick. With spine-shattering suddenness the travellers crashed to earth. Dorothy, describing it to Ozma later, explained that although she never had been in a battle, she knew exactly how a warrior felt when his horse was shot from under him. Except, of course, that a horseman would not have had so far to fall. The Scarecrow, tumbling off first, softened the bump for both girls. The Wizard and Soldier plunged headlong into a red-pepper bush. While not seriously injured, they were grievously scratched and shaken. But the worst was not the blow to their pride and persons, the worst was to see the upper and winged halves of their precious sticks flying away without them.
"Oh! Oh!" groaned the Wizard, leaping out of the pepper bush and running for an anguished yard or two after the vanishing staffs. "This is awful, AWFUL! Come back! Come down!" he implored, realizing even as he shouted that the sticks could neither hear nor obey.
"Noo then, whew are yew?" The startled Red Beard hoisted himself out of his camp chair. "W—itches riding on br—hoom sticks? Noo then, call off yewer dog!" The Cowardly Lion, noting the mischief already done by the Red King's bow, had seized it in his teeth and backed rapidly into the bushes. The Wizard, reluctantly withdrawing his gaze from the sky, now stamped over to the astonished owner of the castle.
"Just see what you've done," he cried angrily. "Destroyed the only winged staffs in Oz. We flew them all the way from the Strat and now, how are we to reach the Emerald City in time to stop the airlanders? Don't you realize—but how could you?" In sudden discouragement the Wizard broke off and stared despondently around the rugged mountain top. "I must tell you," he began again in a hoarse and desperate voice, "that Ozma and the Emerald City are in great danger. Strut of the Strat and a host of his flying Stratovanians are descending to conquer Oz and carry off Ozma's treasure. If we fail to warn her the city is lost—doomed—I tell you! Since you have shattered our flying sticks you must quickly supply us with some other means of travel. We must reach the capital before morning!"
"MUST!" roared the Bearded Bowman. "Are yew shouting 'must' at ME?"
"Be careful!" cried Dorothy. For the Wizard, in his earnestness, had stepped closer and closer to the red King. But her cry was too late. Without any warning, the King's pointed beard, rising with his wrath, pointed straight out and struck the valiant Wizard to the earth. For a whole minute he lay perfectly still, staring up at this curious phenomenon. Though he had seen many a beard in his day, he had never been knocked down by one before.
"Whew are yew?" demanded the burly mountain monarch again. "How dare yew fly over my castle and swim in my lake without permission?" Stroking his beard which gradually resumed a vertical position on his chest, he stared from one to the other of the adventurers. "No use to run," he sneered as Wantowin Battles began to back toward the bushes. "My bowmen will be here any moment now! But WHEW are YEW?"
"Wheww!" groaned Jellia, propping the bedraggled Scarecrow against a rock. "A body'd hardly know, after such a welcome. Whew are yew, yewerself, yew old Redbeard!"
"I?" roared the Bowman, taken completely by surprise. "Why, don't yew know? I am Bustabo, King of the Kudgers and Red Top Mountain."