The creatures could not escape from the
enclosure, but in their fright many bounded upward and
caught branches of the trees, and then climbed out of
reach of the dreaded thorn.
Woot was getting pretty tired chasing them, so he
stopped and came over, panting, to where his friends
were sitting, still bound.
"Very well done, my Wanderer," said the Tin Woodman.
"It is evident that we need fear these puffed-up
creatures no longer, so be kind enough to unfasten our
bonds and we will proceed upon our journey."
Woot untied the bonds of the Scarecrow and helped him
to his feet. Then he freed the Tin Woodman, who got up
without help. Looking around them, they saw that the
only Loon now remaining within reach was Bal Loon, the
King, who had remained seated in his throne, watching
the punishment of his people with a bewildered look in
his purple eyes.
"Shall I puncture the King?" the boy asked his
companions.
King Bal must have overheard the question, for he
fumbled with the cord that fastened him to the throne
and managed to release it. Then he floated upward until
he reached the leafy dome, and parting the branches he
disappeared from sight. But the string that was tied to
his body was still connected with the arm of the
throne, and they knew they could pull his Majesty down
again, if they wanted to.
"Let him alone," suggested the Scarecrow. "He seems a
good enough king for his peculiar people, and after we
are gone, the Loons will have something of a job to
pump up all those whom Woot has punctured.
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