Bob nodded, and at this a little rustle went rippling through the forest as if the trees had actually heard him, and in the same instant each tree quietly opened its trunk and drew forth a fiddle. Before Notta and Bob had recovered from their surprise a wave of music swept through the wood, now soft, now loud, but more entrancing than any they had ever heard. And the trees, swaying and bending in the dim starlight, plied their bows with more skill than any orchestra in the mortal world. For Bob and Notta, you see, had come to the Fiddlestick Forest of Oz.
Chapter 18
Notta's Last Disguise
Of all his adventures, Bob remembered this strange concert longest. The fairylike music, that even made the Moon bend down to listen, the drumlike accompaniment of Nick's snores and the misty faces of the trees themselves, bending down in the dim starlight, all added to the enchantment. Bob could not remember falling asleep, for all through his dreams marched the music of the fiddles—but he must have slept, for opening his eyes suddenly, he found the sun out and shining merrily. He looked around to ask Notta whether he had dreamed about the fiddles or really heard them, but Notta was nowhere to be seen. Nick, too, had vanished.
Rather alarmed, Bob jumped up. As he did so a large green leaf with white lines traced on it fluttered to the ground.
"You may use the Fiddlebow Boat," said the leaf and, looking up, Bob fancied the big tree was smiling at him. So he made a stiff little bow and, holding fast to the leaf, started off uneasily to find his friends. The sound of water rippling over stones took him to the left, for he was terribly thirsty and in a few seconds he had come out on a rapid little stream. The water was so clear Bob could see the white stones gleaming on the bottom. Throwing himself down, he took a long, satisfying drink. When he straightened up he was astonished to see a boat tied to a slim birch that leaned far out over the water's edge.
"Why, this must be the Fiddlebow Boat," cried the little boy, hastening over to examine it. It was of a smooth and satiny garnet, and exactly the shape of a huge, hollowed-out fiddle. It rode gaily at the end of its pink line, and this discovery only made Bob more anxious than ever to find the clown. Calling first Notta and then Nick, he ran back to the big tree, and just as he reached it was horrified to see a witch bending over the pile of leaves he had slept on. With a shrill scream Bob turned to flee but the witch came bounding and hobbling after, calling to him in pleading tones not to run away. But the more the witch called, the faster Bob ran, and he might have been running yet, had he not tripped over the roots of a tree and fallen headlong. In an instant the black hands of his pursuer jerked him to his feet.