"Well, my pretty, what say you now, eh?" She screamed again as she flew about them. Large jagged crimson red spikes flew from her hands towards them, also ugly blobs of brownish gray with red spikes sticking out. From her eyes shot slithering snake-like pointed shapes with colored stripes of dirty green and yellow and muddy orange. They writhed about, trying to stick their sharp points into Dorothy's feet. "Quick now," said the Tin Woodman. "Close your eyes and think nice thoughts." Dorothy closed her eyes and thought of Aunt Em and Uncle Henry, and Toto and the little one-room farmhouse. A great love arose from within her and poured out to them. The minute this happened, a beautiful white light appeared around the little group huddled together. All of the horrible blobs flew back to their signs, while the barbs that had come from the Wicked Witch turned around and sped like bullets back towards her. Now it was her turn to scream with fright. She motioned her legs as if she were riding a bicycle and pedaled as fast as she could to try to get away. But the blobs caught up with her, hooking onto her clothes. One hooked her large nose. The snake-like shapes attached themselves to her behind with their pointed heads. She pedaled furiously off into the distance, grabbing at them, trying to pull them off. Everyone roared with laughter. "Don't forget," the Lion said, when the laughter had subsided, "what that first sign said: /Think golden yellow daffodils/." So they all closed their eyes and imagined that they were surrounded by golden yellow daffodils. When they opened their eyes again, they were amazed to see miles of golden daffodils all around them. "I have a feeling we are out of Thoughtformland," said the Tin Woodman. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness," said Dorothy. "That was too much." * Chapter Seventeen: Americanindianland * As they walked through the daffodils, everyone felt immensely cheerful. They were chatting away about this and that, when the Scarecrow spotted smoke signals in the distance. "Look," he said, pointing. "It must be Americanindianland," said the Tin Woodman excitedly. "Oh, I'm so looking forward to this," said Dorothy, as the beat of the tom-toms and the chant of the Indians' singing reached her ears. When they reached the camp, they were not surprised to see the traditional Indian scene of teepees with skins drying and dogs barking and such. The squaws and papooses and braves and chiefs were gathered around in a big circle in which a group of dancers was singing and chanting. When Dorothy's party arrived, a beautiful majestic chief motioned them to come and sit by him while the proceedings continued. And what a sight to behold -- chiefs in full head dress from every tribe: Cherokee, Shawnee, Apache, Hopi, Navaho -- every single one. Dancers representing each tribe were performing their ceremonial dances.