As she flew over his head, he grabbed the tail end of her broomstick. It
stopped -- but she didn't. She flew head over heels through the air. Over
and over she went, landing upside down, her head stuck in the mud.
Dorothy ran over to her. By the time she got there, she was already up
to her waist, her legs sticking out and flailing around frantically. She
obviously could not breathe.
Dorothy grabbed her legs and heaved, but she couldn't budge her.
"She'll die for sure. Run!" said the Scarecrow to Dorothy.
Dorothy hesitated. As much as she had been abused by the witch, she
could not bear to leave her to die.
"Look!" said the Tin Woodman. One of the witch's legs was waving back
and forth, with her long, pointed shoe vigorously jabbing towards a tree
stump.
"Looks like she's trying to tell us something," shouted the Scarecrow.
Dorothy ran over to the tree stump. "I can't see anything unusual about
it," she said. Meanwhile, the witch's kicking got weaker and weaker
until she was not moving at all.
"She's dead," said the Lion.
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