The little Munchkin boy had never heard of any person dying in the Land of Oz, but he knew one could suffer a great deal of pain.

His greatest fear at this time was that he would always remain imprisoned in the beautiful leaf and never see the light of day again.
No sound came to him through the leaf; all around was intense silence.
Ojo wondered if Scraps had stopped screaming, or if the folds of the leaf prevented his hearing her.

By and by he thought he heard a whistle, as of some one whistling a tune.

Yes; it really must be some one whistling, he decided, for he could follow the strains of a pretty Munchkin melody that Unc Nunkie used to sing to him.

The sounds were low and sweet and, although they reached Ojo's ears very faintly, they were clear and harmonious.
Could the leaf whistle, Ojo wondered?
Nearer and nearer came the sounds and then they seemed to be just the other side of the leaf that was hugging him.
Suddenly the whole leaf toppled and fell, carrying the boy with it, and while he sprawled at full length the folds slowly relaxed and set him free.