The Collected Works of L. Frank Baum (Illustrated) - L. Frank Baum

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couldn’t tell much about direction himself, because he had spent his time prowling among the bushes and running here and there; nor had Billina paid much attention to where they were going, being interested in picking bugs from the moss as they passed along. The Yellow Hen now turned one eye up toward the little girl and asked:

      “Have you forgotten where the camp is, Dorothy?”

      “Yes,” she admitted; “have you, Billina?”

      “I didn’t try to remember,” returned Billina. “I’d no idea you would get lost, Dorothy.”

      “It’s the thing we don’t expect, Billina, that usually happens,” observed the girl, thoughtfully. “But it’s no use standing here. Let’s go in that direction,” pointing a finger at random. “It may be we’ll get out of the forest over there.”

      So on they went again, but this way the trees were closer together, and the vines were so tangled that often they tripped Dorothy up.

      Suddenly a voice cried sharply:

      “Halt!”

      At first, Dorothy could see nothing, although she looked around very carefully. But Billina exclaimed:

      “Well, I declare!”

      “What is it?” asked the little girl: for Toto began barking at something, and following his gaze she discovered what it was.

      A row of spoons had surrounded the three, and these spoons stood straight up on their handles and carried swords and muskets. Their faces were outlined in the polished bowls and they looked very stern and severe.

      Dorothy laughed at the queer things.

      “Who are you?” she asked.

      “We’re the Spoon Brigade,” said one.

      “In the service of his Majesty King Kleaver,” said another.

      “And you are our prisoners,” said a third.

      Dorothy sat down on an old stump and looked at them, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

      “What would happen,” she inquired, “if I should set my dog on your Brigade?”

      “He would die,” replied one of the spoons, sharply. “One shot from our deadly muskets would kill him, big as he is.”

      “Don’t risk it, Dorothy,” advised the Yellow Hen. “Remember this is a fairy country, yet none of us three happens to be a fairy.”

      Dorothy grew sober at this.

      “P’raps you’re right, Billina,” she answered. “But how funny it is, to be captured by a lot of spoons!”

      “I do not see anything very funny about it,” declared a spoon. “We’re the regular military brigade of the kingdom.”

      “What kingdom?” she asked.

      “Utensia,” said he.

      “I never heard of it before,” asserted Dorothy. Then she added thoughtfully, “I don’t believe Ozma ever heard of Utensia, either. Tell me, are you not subjects of Ozma of Oz?”

      “We have never heard of her,” retorted a spoon. “We are subjects of King Kleaver, and obey only his orders, which are to bring all prisoners to him as soon as they are captured. So step lively, my girl, and march with us, or we may be tempted to cut off a few of your toes with our swords.”

      This threat made Dorothy laugh again. She did not believe she was in any danger; but here was a new and interesting adventure, so she was willing to be taken to Utensia that she might see what King Kleaver’s kingdom was like.

      16. How Dorothy Visited Utensia

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      There must have been from six to eight dozen spoons in the Brigade, and they marched away in the shape of a hollow square, with Dorothy, Billina and Toto in the center of the square. Before they had gone very far Toto knocked over one of the spoons by wagging his tail, and then the Captain of the Spoons told the little dog to be more careful, or he would be punished. So Toto was careful, and the Spoon Brigade moved along with astonishing swiftness, while Dorothy really had to walk fast to keep up with it.

      By and by they left the woods and entered a big clearing, in which was the Kingdom of Utensia.

      Standing all around the clearing were a good many cookstoves, ranges and grills, of all sizes and shapes, and besides these there were several kitchen cabinets and cupboards and a few kitchen tables. These things were crowded with utensils of all sorts: frying pans, sauce pans, kettles, forks, knives, basting and soup spoons, nutmeg graters, sifters, colanders, meat saws, flat irons, rolling pins and many other things of a like nature.

      When the Spoon Brigade appeared with the prisoners a wild shout arose and many of the utensils hopped off their stoves or their benches and ran crowding around Dorothy and the hen and the dog.

      “Stand back!” cried the Captain, sternly, and he led his captives through the curious throng until they came before a big range that stood in the center of the clearing. Beside this range was a butcher block upon which lay a great cleaver with a keen edge. It rested upon the flat of its back, its legs were crossed and it was smoking a long pipe.

      “Wake up, your Majesty,” said the Captain. “Here are prisoners.”

      Hearing this, King Kleaver sat up and looked at Dorothy sharply.

      “Gristle and fat!” he cried. “Where did this girl come from?”

      “I found her in the forest and brought her here a prisoner,” replied the Captain.

      “Why did you do that?” inquired the King, puffing his pipe lazily.

      “To create some excitement,” the Captain answered. “It is so quiet here that we are all getting rusty for want of amusement. For my part, I prefer to see stirring times.”

      “Naturally,” returned the cleaver, with a nod. “I have always said, Captain, without a bit of irony, that you are a sterling officer and a solid citizen, bowled and polished to a degree. But what do you expect me to do with these prisoners?”

      “That is for you to decide,” declared the Captain. “You are the King.”

      “To be sure; to be sure,” muttered the cleaver, musingly. “As you say, we have had dull times since the steel and grindstone eloped and left us. Command my Counselors and the Royal Courtiers to attend me, as well as the High Priest and the Judge. We’ll then decide what can be done.”

      The Captain saluted and retired and Dorothy sat down on an overturned kettle and asked:

      “Have you anything to eat in your kingdom?”

      “Here! Get up! Get off from me!” cried a faint voice, at which his Majesty the cleaver said:

      “Excuse me, but you’re sitting on my friend the Ten-quart Kettle.”

      Dorothy at once arose, and the kettle turned right side up and looked at her reproachfully.

      “I’m a friend of the King, so no one dares sit on me,” said he.

      “I’d prefer a chair, anyway,” she replied.

      “Sit on that hearth,” commanded the King.

      So Dorothy sat on the hearth-shelf of the big range, and the subjects of Utensia began to gather around in a large and inquisitive throng. Toto lay at Dorothy’s feet and Billina flew upon the range, which had no fire in it, and perched there as comfortably as she could.

      When all the Counselors and Courtiers had assembled—and these seemed to include most of the inhabitants of the kingdom—the King rapped on the block for order and said:

      “Friends and

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