“Jim’s right,” sighed the Wizard.  “There’s going to be trouble, and my sword isn’t stout enough to cut up those wooden bodies—­so I shall have to get out my revolvers.”

He got his satchel from the buggy and, opening it, took out two deadly looking revolvers that made the children shrink back in alarm just to look at.

“What harm can the Gurgles do?” asked Dorothy.  “They have no weapons to hurt us with.”

“Each of their arms is a wooden club,” answered the little man, “and I’m sure the creatures mean mischief, by the looks of their eyes.  Even these revolvers can merely succeed in damaging a few of their wooden bodies, and after that we will be at their mercy.”

“But why fight at all, in that case?” asked the girl.

“So I may die with a clear conscience,” returned the Wizard, gravely.  “It’s every man’s duty to do the best he knows how; and I’m going to do it.”

“Wish I had an axe,” said Zeb, who by now had unhitched the horse.

“If we had known we were coming we might have brought along several other useful things,” responded the Wizard.  “But we dropped into this adventure rather unexpectedly.”

The Gargoyles had backed away a distance when they heard the sound of talking, for although our friends had spoken in low tones their words seemed loud in the silence surrounding them.  But as soon as the conversation ceased, the grinning, ugly creatures arose in a flock and flew swiftly toward the strangers, their long arms stretched out before them like the bowsprits of a fleet of sail-boats.  The horse had especially attracted their notice, because it was the biggest and strangest creature they had ever seen; so it became the center of their first attack.

But Jim was ready for them, and when he saw them coming he turned his heels toward them and began kicking out as hard as he could.  Crack! crash! bang! went his iron-shod hoofs against the wooden bodies of the Gargoyles, and they were battered right and left with such force that they scattered like straws in the wind.  But the noise and clatter seemed as dreadful to them as Jim’s heels, for all who were able swiftly turned and flew away to a great distance.  The others picked themselves up from the ground one by one and quickly rejoined their fellows, so for a moment the horse thought he had won the fight with ease.

But the Wizard was not so confident.

“Those wooden things are impossible to hurt,” he said, “and all the damage Jim has done to them is to knock a few splinters from their noses and ears.  That cannot make them look any uglier, I’m sure, and it is my opinion they will soon renew the attack.”

“What made them fly away?” asked Dorothy.

“The noise, of course.  Don’t you remember how the Champion escaped them by shouting his battle-cry?”

“Suppose we escape down the stairs, too,” suggested the boy.  “We have time, just now, and I’d rather face the invis’ble bears than those wooden imps.”