Dorothy had a good ducking, you may be sure, but she didn't lose her presence of mind
even for a second. She kept tight hold of the stout slats and as soon as she could get the
water out of her eyes she saw that the wind had ripped the cover from the coop, and the poor
chickens were fluttering away in every direction, being blown by the wind until they looked
like feather dusters without handles. The bottom of the coop was made of thick boards, so
Dorothy found she was clinging to a sort of raft, with sides of slats, which readily bore up
her weight. After coughing the water out of her throat and getting her breath again, she
managed to climb over the slats and stand upon the firm wooden bottom of the coop, which
supported her easily enough.
«Why, I've got a ship of my own!» she thought, more amused than frightened at her
sudden change of condition; and then, as the coop climbed up to the top of a big wave, she
looked eagerly around for the ship from which she had been blown.
It was far, far away, by this time. Perhaps no one on board had yet missed her, or knew
of her strange adventure. Down into a valley between the waves the coop swept her, and
when she climbed another crest the ship looked like a toy boat, it was such a long way off.
Soon it had entirely disappeared in the gloom, and then Dorothy gave a sigh of regret at
parting with Uncle Henry and began to wonder what was going to happen to her next.
Just now she was tossing on the bosom of a big ocean, with nothing to keep her afloat
but a miserable wooden hen−coop that had a plank bottom and slatted sides, through which
the water constantly splashed and wetted her through to the skin! And there was nothing to
eat when she became hungry – as she was sure to do before long – and no fresh water to
drink and no dry clothes to put on.
«Well, I declare!» she exclaimed, with a laugh. «You're in a pretty fix, Dorothy Gale, I
can tell you! and I haven't the least idea how you're going to get out of it!»
As if to add to her troubles the night was now creeping on, and the gray clouds
overhead changed to inky blackness. But the wind, as if satisfied at last with its mischievous
pranks, stopped blowing this ocean and hurried away to another part of the world to blow
something else; so that the waves, not being joggled any more, began to quiet down and
behave themselves.
It was lucky for Dorothy, I think, that the storm subsided; otherwise, brave though she
was, I fear she might have perished. Many children, in her place, would have wept and given
way to despair; but because Dorothy had encountered so many adventures and come safely
through them it did not occur to her at this time to be especially afraid. She was wet and
uncomfortable, it is true; but, after sighing that one sigh I told you of, she managed to recall
some of her customary cheerfulness and decided to patiently await whatever her fate might
be.
Ozma of Oz
Chapter 1. The Girl in the Chicken Coop 5