Holding the handle of the parasol, Dorothy steered it with all theskill of an aviator, and in several minutes after their start theparty had entered the deep, black passage down which the Scarecrowhad fallen. Each one of the adventurers was fastened to the parasolwith ropes of different length so that none of them bumped together,but even with all the care in the world it was not possible to keepthem from bumping the sides of the tube. The Comfortable Camelgrunted plaintively from time to time, and Dorothy could hear theDoubtful Dromedary complaining bitterly in the darkness. It was pitchdark, but by keeping one hand in touch with the bean pole, Dorothymanaged to hold the parasol in the center.
"How long will it take?" she called breathlessly to the Scarecrow,who was dangling just below.
"Hours!" wheezed the Scarecrow, holding fast to his hat. "I hope noneof the parties on this line hear us," he added nervously, thinking ofthe Middlings.
"What recks it?" blustered Sir Hokus. "Hast forgotten my trustysword?" But his words were completely drowned in the rattle of hisarmor.
"Hush!" warned the Scarecrow, "Or we'll be pulled in." So for almostan hour, they flew up the dark, chimney-like tube with only anoccasional groan as one or another scraped against the rough sides ofthe passage. Then, before they knew what was happening, the parasolcrashed into something, half closed, and the whole party started tofall head over heels over helmets.
"O!" gasped Dorothy, turning a complete somersault, "catch hold ofthe bean pole, somebody!"
"Put up the parasol!" shrieked the Scarecrow. Just then Dorothy,finding herself right side up, grasped the pole herself and snappedthe parasol wide open. Up, up, up they soared again, faster thanever!
"We're flying up much faster than I fell down. We must be at thetop!" called the Scarecrow hoarsely, "and somebody has closed theopening!"