"Then why did she not stay there?" observed the Guard reasonably enough. "Anyone coming into this forest comes under the rule of Gloma, Witch of the Black Forest."
"Witch?" coughed the pig, as Dorothy, tightening her clutch on his neck, almost choked him.
"Yes, witch," repeated the forester calmly. "Now, then, hold up your heads, you pale and pinky skins, for you are in for a good blacking." And before Pigasus knew just what WAS happening the ground slipped away from under him and he and Dorothy were plunged into the rough chilly waters of a tumbling forest stream. Striking out with all four feet, Pigasus managed to breast the flood, when he felt himself and Dorothy being forced completely under. As a matter of fact, the Guard swimming beside him had simply put his hand on Dorothy's head and pushed her and the squealing pig beneath the surface. As they rose, gasping and sputtering, he again seized Pigasus by the wing and pulled him quickly to shore.
"There, now you're all right," he boomed heartily as Dorothy rolled off the pig's back and began shaking the water from her eyes and hair and wringing out her dripping skirts. "Just blot yourselves on the bank!"
"Bl-blot ourselves?" gurgled Pigasus, giving himself a violent shake. "Do you take us for letters? You—you'll be sorry for this!" But right in the middle of his angry sputters he gave a loud and astonished squall. "Dorothy, Dorothy, I can see!" panted the pink pig exultantly.
"So can I," cried Dorothy, running excitedly toward him. "But everything looks black—everything IS black, even you. Oh, Oh! You're perfectly coal black, Piggins, am I black too?"
"Of course," answered the Guard in a bored voice, "and much better so. Since you are black yourselves, you can see in the dark like the rest of us, and what do you think of our forest now?" But Dorothy, instead of telling him, held up her shiny black hands, touched a few strands of her perfectly black hair, and then dropping her head on the pig's shoulder began to weep bitterly. Like drops of ink the tears coursed down her ebony cheeks, and though Pigasus did what he could to comfort her, she continued to sob as if her heart would break.
"Well, I must say I call this ungrateful," the Guard shifted from one foot to the other. "What's the matter with you, anyway? Black is a splendid color, doesn't show dirt, doesn't fade or streak. Besides it's against the law to be any other color in this forest."
"How dare you blacken us against our will?" burst out Pigasus furiously. "Wait till I get loose, I'll—why, I'll tear you to pieces and pitch you into a tar barrel."