When the last foe had disappeared, Tip crawled from under the sofas and
assisted the Woggle-Bug to follow him.
"We are saved!" shouted the boy, delightedly.
"We are, indeed!" responded the Educated Insect, fairly hugging the stiff
head of the Gump in his joy. "and we owe it all to the flopping of the
Thing, and the good axe of the Woodman!"
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"If I am saved, get me out of here!" called Jack; whose head was still
beneath the sofas; and Tip managed to roll the pumpkin out and place it upon
its neck again. He also set the Saw-Horse upright, and said to it:
"We owe you many thanks for the gallant fight you made."
"I really think we have escaped very nicely," remarked the Tin Woodman, in a
tone of pride.
"Not so!" exclaimed a hollow voice.
At this they all turned in surprise to look at the Scarecrow's head, which
lay at the back of the nest.
"I am completely ruined!" declared the Scarecrow, as he noted their
astonishment. "For where is the straw that stuffs my body?"
The awful question startled them all. They gazed around the nest with
horror, for not a vestige of straw remained. The
222
Jackdaws had stolen it to the last wisp and flung it all into the chasm that
yawned for hundreds of feet beneath the nest.
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