After an hour or so most of
the band of Wheelers rolled back
into the forest, leaving only
three of their number to guard
the hill. These curled themselves
up like big dogs and pretended
to go to sleep on the sands;
but neither Dorothy nor Billina
were fooled by this trick, so
they remained in security among
the rocks and paid no attention
to
their cunning enemies.
Finally the
hen, fluttering over the mound,
exclaimed: "Why,
here's a path!"
So Dorothy at once clambered
to where Billina sat, and there,
sure enough, was a smooth path
cut between the rocks. It seemed
to wind around the mound from
top to bottom, like a cork-screw,
twisting here and there between
the rough boulders but always
remaining level and easy to walk
upon.
Indeed, Dorothy wondered at
first why the Wheelers did not
roll up this path; but when she
followed it to the foot of the
mound she found that several
big pieces of rock had been placed
directly across the end of the
way, thus preventing any one
outside from seeing it and also
preventing the Wheelers from
using it to climb up the mound.
Then Dorothy walked back up
the path, and followed it until
she came to the very top of the
hill, where a solitary round
rock stood that was bigger than
any of the others surrounding
it. The path came to an end just
beside this great rock, and for
a moment it puzzled the girl
to know why the path had been
made at all. But the hen, who
had been gravely following her
around and was now perched upon
a point of rock behind Dorothy,
suddenly remarked:
"It looks something
like a door, doesn't it?"
"What looks like a door?" enquired
the child.
"Why, that crack in the rock,
just facing you," replied Billina,
whose little round eyes were
very sharp and seemed to see
everything. "It runs up one side
and down the other, and across
the top and the bottom."
"What does?"
"Why, the crack.
So I think it must be a door
of rock, although
I do not see any hinges."
"Oh, yes," said Dorothy, now
observing for the first time
the crack in the rock. "And isn't
this a key-hole, Billina?" pointing
to a round, deep hole at one
side of the door.
"Of course. If we only had
the key, now, we could unlock
it and see what is there," replied
the yellow hen. "May be it's
a treasure chamber full of diamonds
and rubies, or heaps of shining
gold, or--"
"That reminds me," said Dorothy, "of
the golden key I picked up on
the shore. Do you think that
it would fit this key-hole, Billina?"
"Try it and see," suggested
the hen.
So Dorothy searched in the
pocket of her dress and found
the golden key. And when she
had put it into the hole of the
rock, and turned it, a sudden
sharp snap was heard; then, with
a solemn creak that made the
shivers run down the child's
back, the face of the rock fell
outward, like a door on hinges,
and revealed a small dark chamber
just inside.
"Good gracious!" cried
Dorothy, shrinking back as
far as the
narrow path would let her.
For, standing within the narrow
chamber of rock, was the form
of a man--or, at least, it seemed
like a man, in the dim light.
He was only about as tall as
Dorothy herself, and his body
was round as a ball and made
out of burnished copper. Also
his head and limbs were copper,
and these were jointed or hinged
to his body in a peculiar way,
with metal caps over the joints,
like the armor worn by knights
in days of old. He stood perfectly
still, and where the light struck
upon his form it glittered as
if made of pure gold.
"Don't be frightened," called
Billina, from her perch. "It
isn't alive."
"I see it isn't," replied
the girl, drawing a long breath.
"It is only made out of copper,
like the old kettle in the barn-yard
at home," continued the hen,
turning her head first to one
side and then to the other, so
that both her little round eyes
could examine the object.
"Once," said Dorothy, "I
knew a man made out of tin,
who was
a woodman named Nick Chopper.
But he was as alive as we are,
'cause he was born a real man,
and got his tin body a little
at a time--first a leg and then
a finger and then an ear--for
the reason that he had so many
accidents with his axe, and cut
himself up in a very careless
manner."
"Oh," said
the hen, with a sniff, as if
she did not believe
the story.
"But this copper man," continued
Dorothy, looking at it with big
eyes, "is not alive at all, and
I wonder what it was made for,
and why it was locked up in this
queer place."
"That is a mystery," remarked
the hen, twisting her head to
arrange her wing-feathers with
her bill.
Dorothy stepped inside the
little room to get a back view
of the copper man, and in this
way discovered a printed card
that hung between his shoulders,
it being suspended from a small
copper peg at the back of his
neck. She unfastened this card
and returned to the path, where
the light was better, and sat
herself down upon a slab of rock
to read the printing.
"What does it say?" asked
the hen, curiously.
Dorothy read the card aloud,
spelling out the big words with
some difficulty; and this is
what she read:
+----------------------------------------------------------------+
| | | SMITH & TINKER'S | | Patent
Double-Action, Extra-Responsive,
| | Thought-Creating, Perfect-Talking
| | MECHANICAL MAN | | Fitted
with our Special Clock-Work Attachment.
| | Thinks, Speaks, Acts, and
Does Everything but Live. | |
Manufactured only at our Works
at Evna, Land of Ev. | | All
infringements will be promptly
Prosecuted according to Law.|
| | +----------------------------------------------------------------+
"How queer!" said the yellow
hen. "Do you think that is all
true, my dear?"
"I don't know," answered Dorothy,
who had more to read. "Listen
to this, Billina:"
+--------------------------------------------------+
| | | DIRECTIONS FOR USING: |
| For THINKING:--Wind the Clock-work
Man under his | | left arm, (marked
No. 1.) | | For SPEAKING:--Wind
the Clock-work Man under his
| | right arm, (marked No. 2.)
| | For WALKING and ACTION:--Wind
Clock-work in the | | middle
of his back, (marked No. 3.)
| | N. B.--This Mechanism is
guaranteed to work | | perfectly
for a thousand years. | | | +--------------------------------------------------+
"Well, I declare!" gasped the
yellow hen, in amazement; "if
the copper man can do half of
these things he is a very wonderful
machine. But I suppose it is
all humbug, like so many other
patented articles."
"We might wind him up," suggested
Dorothy, "and see what he'll
do."
"Where is the key to the clock-work?" asked
Billina.
"Hanging on
the peg where I found the card."
"Then," said the hen, "let
us try him, and find out if he
will go. He is warranted for
a thousand years, it seems; but
we do not know how long he has
been standing inside this rock."
Dorothy had already taken the
clock key from the peg.
"Which shall I wind up first?" she
asked, looking again at the directions
on the card.
"Number One, I should think," returned
Billina. "That makes him think,
doesn't it?"
"Yes," said
Dorothy, and wound up Number
One, under the left
arm.
"He doesn't seem any different," remarked
the hen, critically.
"Why, of course not; he is
only thinking, now," said Dorothy.
"I wonder what
he is thinking about."
"I'll wind up his talk, and
then perhaps he can tell us," said
the girl.
So she wound up Number Two,
and immediately the clock-work
man said, without moving any
part of his body except his lips:
"Good morn-ing,
lit-tle girl. Good morn-ing,
Mrs. Hen."
The words sounded a little
hoarse and creaky, and they were
uttered all in the same tone,
without any change of expression
whatever; but both Dorothy and
Billina understood them perfectly.
"Good morning, sir," they
answered, politely.
"Thank you for res-cu-ing me," continued
the machine, in the same monotonous
voice, which seemed to be worked
by a bellows inside of him, like
the little toy lambs and cats
the children squeeze so that
they will make a noise.
"Don't mention it," answered
Dorothy. And then, being very
curious, she asked: "How did
you come to be locked up in this
place?"
"It is a long sto-ry," replied
the copper man; "but I will tell
it to you brief-ly. I was pur-chased
from Smith & Tin-ker, my man-u-fac-tur-ers,
by a cru-el King of Ev, named
Ev-ol-do, who used to beat all
his serv-ants un-til they died.
How-ev-er, he was not a-ble to
kill me, be-cause I was not a-live,
and one must first live in or-der
to die. So that all his beat-ing
did me no harm, and mere-ly kept
my cop-per bod-y well pol-ished.
"This cru-el
king had a love-ly wife and
ten beau-ti-ful chil-dren--five
boys and five girls--but in a
fit of an-ger he sold them all
to the Nome King, who by means
of his mag-ic arts changed them
all in-to oth-er forms and put
them in his un-der-ground pal-ace
to or-na-ment the rooms.
"Af-ter-ward
the King of Ev re-gret-ted
his wick-ed ac-tion,
and tried to get his wife and
chil-dren a-way from the Nome
King, but with-out a-vail. So,
in de-spair, he locked me up
in this rock, threw the key in-to
the o-cean, and then jumped in
af-ter it and was drowned."
"How very dreadful!" exclaimed
Dorothy.
"It is, in-deed," said the
machine. "When I found my-self
im-pris-oned I shout-ed for help
un-til my voice ran down; and
then I walked back and forth
in this lit-tle room un-til my
ac-tion ran down; and then I
stood still and thought un-til
my thoughts ran down. Af-ter
that I re-mem-ber noth-ing un-til
you wound me up a-gain."
"It's a very wonderful story," said
Dorothy, "and proves that the
Land of Ev is really a fairy
land, as I thought it was."
"Of course it is," answered
the copper man. "I do not sup-pose
such a per-fect ma-chine as I
am could be made in an-y place
but a fair-y land."
"I've never seen one in Kansas," said
Dorothy.
"But where did you get the
key to un-lock this door?" asked
the clock-work voice.
"I found it on the shore, where
it was prob'ly washed up by the
waves," she answered. "And now,
sir, if you don't mind, I'll
wind up your action."
"That will please me ve-ry
much," said the machine.
So she wound up Number Three,
and at once the copper man in
a somewhat stiff and jerky fashion
walked out of the rocky cavern,
took off his copper hat and bowed
politely, and then kneeled before
Dorothy. Said he:
"From this
time forth I am your o-be-di-ent
ser-vant. What-ev-er
you com-mand, that I will do
will-ing-ly--if you keep me wound
up."
"What is your name?" she
asked.
"Tik-tok," he replied. "My
for-mer mas-ter gave me that
name be-cause my clock-work al-ways
ticks when it is wound up."
"I can hear it now," said
the yellow hen.
"So can I," said Dorothy. And
then she added, with some anxiety: "You
don't strike, do you?"
"No," answered Tiktok; "and
there is no a-larm con-nec-ted
with my ma-chin-er-y. I can tell
the time, though, by speak-ing,
and as I nev-er sleep I can wak-en
you at an-y hour you wish to
get up in the morn-ing."
"That's nice," said the little
girl; "only I never wish to get
up in the morning."
"You can sleep until I lay
my egg," said the yellow hen. "Then,
when I cackle, Tiktok will know
it is time to waken you."
"Do you lay your egg very early?" asked
Dorothy.
"About eight o'clock," said
Billina. "And everybody ought
to be up by that time, I'm sure."
|