http://www.Gutenberg.us - Project Gutenberg Consortia Center Collection, a member of the World eBook Library, bringing the world's eBook collections together.

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or full complete details are online at: http://gutenberg.net/license.

Here are 3 of the more major items to consider:

1. The eBooks on the PG sites are not 100% public domain, some of them are copyrighted and used by permission and thus you may charge for redistribution only via direct permission from the copyright holders.
2. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark [TM]. For any other purpose than to redistribute eBooks containing the entire Project Gutenberg file free of charge and with the headers intact, permission is required.
3. The public domain status is per U.S. copyright law. This eBook is from the Project Gutenberg Consortium Center of the United States.

The mission of the Project Gutenberg Consortia Center is to provide a similar framework for the collection of eBook collections as does Project Gutenberg for single eBooks, operating under the practices, and general guidelines of Project Gutenberg. The major additional function of Project Gutenberg Consortia Center is to manage the addition of large collections of eBooks from other eBook creation and collection centers around the world.

---

 

The Lost Princess of Oz

by L. Frank Baum

June, 1997  [eBook #959]

PGCC Collection: The Lost Princess of Oz, by Baum*
*eBook File: 11woz10.htm or 11woz10.pdf

Corrected EDITIONS, 12woz10.htm.
Separate source VERSION, 11woz10a.htm.


Prepared by Anthony Matonac.









Ver.04.29.93*





THE LOST PRINCESS OF OZ
by L. FRANK BAUM


This Book is Dedicated
To My Granddaughter
OZMA BAUM


To My Readers

Some of my youthful readers are developing wonderful
imaginations. This pleases me. Imagination has brought
mankind through the Dark Ages to its present state of
civilization. Imagination led Columbus to discover
America. Imagination led Franklin to discover
electricity. Imagination has given us the steam engine,
the telephone, the talking-machine and the automobile,
for these things had to be dreamed of before they
became realities. So I believe that dreams -- day
dreams, you know, with your eyes wide open and your
brain-machinery whizzing -- are likely to lead to the
betterment of the world. The imaginative child will
become the imaginative man or woman most apt to create,
to invent, and therefore to foster civilization. A
prominent educator tells me that fairy tales are of
untold value in developing imagination in the young. I
believe it.

Among the letters I receive from children are many
containing suggestions of "what to write about in the
next Oz Book." Some of the ideas advanced are mighty
interesting, while others are too extravagant to be
seriously considered -- even in a fairy tale. Yet I
like them all, and I must admit that the main idea in
"The Lost Princess of Oz" was suggested to me by a
sweet little girl of eleven who called to see me and to
talk about the Land of Oz. Said she: "I s'pose if Ozma
ever got lost, or stolen, ev'rybody in Oz would be
dreadful sorry."

That was all, but quite enough foundation to build
this present story on. If you happen to like the story,
give credit to my little friend's clever hint.

L. Frank Baum
Royal Historian of Oz


1 A Terrible Loss
2 The Troubles of Glinda the Good
3 The Robbery of Cayke the Cookie Cook
4 Among the Winkies
5 Ozma's Friends Are Perplexed
6 The Search Party
7 The Merry-Go-Round Mountains
8 The Mysterious City
9 The High Coco-Lorum of Thi
10 Toto Loses Something
11 Button-Bright Loses Himself
12 The Czarover of Herku
13 The Truth Pond
14 The Unhappy Ferryman
15 The Big Lavender Bear
16 The Little Pink Bear
17 The Meeting
18 The Conference
19 Ugu the Shoemaker
20 More Surprises
21 Magic Against Magic
22 In the Wicker Castle
23 The Defiance of Ugu the Shoemaker
24 The Little Pink Bear Speaks Truly
25 Ozma of Oz
26 Dorothy Forgives



THE LOST PRINCESS of OZ




Chapter One

A Terrible Loss


There could be no doubt of the fact: Princess Ozma, the
lovely girl ruler of the Fairyland of Oz, was lost. She
had completely disappeared. Not one of her subjects --
not even her closest friends -- knew what had become of her.

It was Dorothy who first discovered it. Dorothy was a
little Kansas girl who had come to the Land of Oz to
live and had been given a delightful suite of rooms in
Ozma's royal palace, just because Ozma loved Dorothy
and wanted her to live as near her as possible, so the
two girls might be much together.

Dorothy was not the only girl from the outside world
who had been welcomed to Oz and lived in the royal
palace. There was another named Betsy Bobbin, whose
adventures had led her to seek refuge with Ozma, and
still another named Trot, who had been invited,
together with her faithful companion, Cap'n Bill, to
make her home in this wonderful fairyland. The three
girls all had rooms in the palace and were great chums;
but Dorothy was the dearest friend of their gracious
Ruler and only she at any hour dared to seek Ozma in
her royal apartments. For Dorothy had lived in Oz much
longer than the other girls and had been made a
Princess of the realm.

Betsy was a year older than Dorothy and Trot was a
year younger, yet the three were near enough of an age
to become great playmates and to have nice times
together. It was while the three were talking together
one morning in Dorothy's room that Betsy proposed they
make a journey into the Munchkin Country, which was one
of the four great countries of the Land of Oz ruled by
Ozma.

"I've never been there yet," said Betsy Bobbin, "but
the Scarecrow once told me it is the prettiest country
in all Oz."

"I'd like to go, too," added Trot.

"All right," said Dorothy, "I'll go and ask Ozma.
Perhaps she will let us take the Sawhorse and the Red
Wagon, which would be much nicer for us than having to
walk all the way. This Land of Oz is a pretty big
place, when you get to all the edges of it."

So she jumped up and went along the balls of the
splendid palace until she came to the royal suite,
which filled all the front of the second floor. In a
little waiting room sat Ozma's maid, Jellia Jamb, who
was busily sewing.

"Is Ozma up yet?" inquired Dorothy.

"I don't know, my dear," replied Jellia. "I haven't
heard a word from her this morning. She hasn't even
called for her bath or her breakfast, and it is far
past her usual time for them."

"That's strange!" exclaimed the little girl.

"Yes," agreed the maid; "but of course no harm could
have happened to her. No one can die or be killed in
the Land of Oz and Ozma is herself a powerful fairy,
and she has no enemies, so far as we know. Therefore I
am not at all worried about her, though I must admit
her silence is unusual."

"Perhaps," said Dorothy, thoughtfully, "she has
overslept. Or she may be reading, or working out some
new sort of magic to do good to her people."

"Any of these things may be true," replied Jellia
Jamb, "so I haven't dared disturb our royal mistress.
You, however, are a privileged character, Princess, and
I am sure that Ozma wouldn't mind at all if you went in
to see her."

"Of course not," said Dorothy, and opening the door
of the outer chamber she went in. All was still here.
She walked into another room, which was Ozma's boudoir,
and then, pushing hack a heavy drapery richly broidered
with threads of pure gold, the girl entered the
sleeping-room of the fairy Ruler of Oz. The bed of
ivory and gold was vacant; the room was vacant; not a
trace of Ozma was to be found.

Very much surprised, yet still with no fear that
anything had happened to her friend, Dorothy returned
through the boudoir to the other rooms of the suite.
She went into the music room, the library, the
laboratory, the bath, the wardrobe and even into the
great throne room, which adjoined the royal suite, but
in none of these places could she find Ozma.

So she returned to the anteroom where she had left
the maid, Jellia Jamb, and said:

"She isn't in her rooms now, so she must have gone
out."

"I don't understand how she could do that without my
seeing her," replied Jellia, "unless she made herself
invisible."

"She isn't there, anyhow," declared Dorothy.

"Then let us go find her," suggested the maid, who
appeared to be a little uneasy.

So they went into the corridors and there Dorothy
almost stumbled over a queer girl who was dancing
lightly along the passage.

"Stop a minute, Scraps!" she called. "Have you seen
Ozma this morning?"

"Not I!" replied the queer girl, dancing nearer. "I
lost both my eyes in a tussle with the Woozy, last
night, for the creature scraped 'em both off my face
with his square paws. So I put the eyes in my pocket
and this morning Button-Bright led me to Aunt Em, who
sewed 'em on again. So I've seen nothing at all today,
except during the last five minutes. So of course I
haven't seen Ozma."

"Very well, Scraps," said Dorothy, looking curiously
at the eyes, which were merely two round black buttons
sewed upon the girl's face.

There were other things about Scraps that would have
seemed curious to one seeing her for the first time.
She was commonly called 'The Patchwork Girl," because
her body and limbs were made from a gaycolored
patchwork quilt which had been cut into shape and
stuffed with cotton. Her head was a round ball stuffed
in the same manner and fastened to her shoulders. For
hair she had a mass of brown yarn and to make a nose
for her a pan of the cloth had been pulled out into the
shape of a knob and tied with a string to hold it in
place. Her mouth had been carefully made by cutting a
slit in the proper place and lining it with red silk,
adding two rows of pearls for teeth and a bit of red
flannel for a tongue.

In spite of this queer make-up, the Patchwork Girl
was magically alive and had proved herself not the
least jolly and agreeable of the many quaint characters
who inhabit the astonishing Fairyland of Oz. Indeed,
Scraps was a general favorite, although she was rather
flighty and erratic and did and said many things that
surprised her friends. She was seldom still, but loved
to dance, to turn handsprings and somersaults, to climb
trees and to indulge in many other active sports.

"I'm going to search for Ozma," remarked Dorothy,
"for she isn't in her rooms and I want to ask her a
question."

"I'll go with you," said Scraps, "for my eyes are
brighter than yours and they can see farther."

"I'm not sure of that," remarked Dorothy. "But come
along, if you like."

Together they searched all through the great palace
and even to the farthest limits of the palace grounds,
which were quite extensive, but nowhere could they find
a trace of Ozma. When Dorothy returned to where Betsy
and Trot awaited her, the little girl's face was rather
solemn and troubled, for never before had Ozma gone
away without telling her friends where she was going,
or without an escort that befitted her royal state.

She was gone, however, and none had seen her go.
Dorothy had met and questioned the Scarecrow, Tik-Tok,
the Shaggy Man, Button-Bright, Cap'n Bill, and even the
wise and powerful Wizard of Oz, but not one of them had
seen Ozma since she parted with her friends the evening
before and had gone to her own rooms.

"She didn't say anything las' night about going
anywhere," observed little Trot.

"No, and thats the strange Part of it," replied
Dorothy. "Usually Ozma lets us know of everything she
does."

"Why not look in the Magic Picture?" suggested Betsy
Bobbin. "That will tell us where she is, in just one
second."

"Of course!" cried Dorothy. "Why didn't I think of
that before?" and at once the three girls hurried away
to Ozma's boudoir, where the Magic Picture always hung.

This wonderful Magic Picture was one of the royal
Ozma's greatest treasures. there was a large gold
frame, in the center of which was a bluish-gray canvas
on which various scenes constantly appeared and
disappeared. If one who stood before it wished to see
what any person -- anywhere in the world -- was doing,
it was only necessary to make the wish and the scene in
the Magic Picture would shift to the scene where that
person was and show exactly what he or she was then
engaged in doing. So the girls knew it would be easy
for them to wish to see Ozma, and from the picture they
could quickly learn where she was.

Dorothy advanced to the place where the picture was
usually protected by thick satin Curtains, and pulled
the draperies aside. Then she stared in amazement,
while her two friends uttered exclamations of
disappointment.

The Magic Picture was gone. Only a blank space on the
wall behind the curtains showed where it had formerly
hung.




Chapter Two

The Troubles of Glinda the Good


That same morning there was great excitement in the
castle of the powerful Sorceress of Oz, Glinda the
Good. This castle, situated in the Quadling Country,
far south of the Emerald City where Ozma ruled, was a
splendid structure of exquisite marbles and silver
grilles. Here the Sorceress lived, surrounded by a bevy
of the most beautiful maidens of Oz, gathered from all
the four countries of that fairyland as well as from
the magnificent Emerald City itself, which stood in the
place where the four countries cornered.

It was considered a great honor to be allowed to
serve the good Sorceress, whose arts of magic were used
only to benefit the Oz people. Glinda was Ozma's most
valued servant, for her knowledge of sorcery was
wonderful and she could accomplish almost anything that
her mistress, the lovely girl Ruler of Oz, wished her
to.

Of all the magical things which surrounded Glinda in
her castle there was none more marvelous than her Great
Book of Records. On the pages of this Record Book were
constantly being inscribed -- day by day and hour by
hour -- all the important events that happened anywhere
in the known world, and they were inscribed in the book
at exactly the moment the events happened. Every
adventure in the Land of Oz and in the big outside
world, and even in places that you and I have never
heard of, were recorded accurately in the Great Book,
which never made a mistake and stated only the exact
truth. For that reason nothing could be concealed from
Glinda the Good, who had only to look at the pages of
the Great Book of Records to know everything that had
taken place. That was one reason she was such a great
Sorceress, for the records made her wiser than any
other living person.

This wonderful book was placed upon a big gold table
that stood in the middle of Glinda's drawing-room. The
legs of the table, which were encrusted with precious
gems, were firmly fastened to the tiled floor and the
book itself was chained to the table and locked with
six stout golden padlocks, the keys to which Glinda
carried on a chain that was secured around her own
neck.

The pages of the Great Book were larger in size than
those of an American newspaper and although they were
exceedingly thin there were so many of them that they
made an enormous, bulky volume. With its gold cover and
gold clasps the book was so heavy that three men could
scarcely have lifted it. Yet this morning, when Glinda
entered her drawing-room after breakfast, with all her
maidens trailing after her, the good Sorceress was
amazed to discover that her Great Book of Records had
mysteriously disappeared.

Advancing to the table, she found the chains had been
cut with some sharp instrument, and this must have been
done while all in the castle slept. Glinda was shocked
and grieved. Who could have done this wicked, bold
thing? And who could wish to deprive her of her Great
Book of Records?

The Sorceress was thoughtful for a time, considering
the consequences of her loss. Then she went to her Room
of Magic to prepare a charm that would tell her who had
stolen the Record Book. But, when she unlocked her
cupboards and threw open the doors, all of her magical
instruments and rare chemical compounds had been
removed from the shelves.

The Sorceress was now both angry and alarmed. She sat
down in a chair and tried to think how this
extraordinary robbery could have taken place. It was
evident that the thief was some person of very great
power, or the theft could never have been accomplished
without her knowledge. But who, in all the Land of Oz,
was powerful and skillful enough to do this awful
thing? And who, having the power, could also have an
object in defying the wisest and most talented
Sorceress the world has ever known?

Glinda thought over the perplexing matter for a full
hour, at the end of which time she was still puzzled
how to explain it. But although her instrument and
chemicals were gone her knowledge of magic had not been
stolen, by any means, since no thief, however skillful,
can rob one of knowledge, and that is why knowledge is
the best and safest treasure to acquire. Glinda
believed that when she had time to gather more magical
herbs and elixirs and to manufacture more magical
instruments she would be able to discover who the
robber was, and what had become of her precious Book of
Records.

"Whoever has done this," she said to her maidens, "is
a very foolish person, for in time he is sure to be
found out and will then be severely punished."

She now made a list of the things she needed and
dispatched messengers to every part of Oz with
instructions to obtain them and bring them to her as
soon as possible. And one of her messengers met the
little Wizard of Oz, who was mounted on the back of the
famous live Sawhorse and was clinging to its neck with
both his arms; for the Sawhorse was speeding to
Glinda's castle with the velocity of the wind, bearing
the news that Royal Ozma, Ruler of all the great Land
of Oz, had suddenly disappeared and no one in the
Emerald City knew what had become of her.

"Also," said the Wizard, as he stood before the
astonished Sorceress, "Ozma's Magic Picture is gone, so
we cannot consult it to discover where she is. So I
came to you for assistance as soon as we realized our
loss. Let us look in the Great Book of Records."

"Alas," returned the Sorceress sorrowfully, "we
cannot do that, for the Great Book of Records has also
disappeared!"




Chapter Three

Robbery of Cayke the Cookie Cook


One more important theft was reported in the Land of Oz
that eventful morning, but it took place so far from
either the Emerald City or the castle of Glinda the
Good that none of those persons we have mentioned
learned of the robbery until long afterward.

In the far southwestern corner of the Winkie Country
is a broad tableland that can be reached only by
climbing a steep hill, whichever side one approaches
it. On the hillside surrounding this tableland are no
paths at all, but there are quantities of bramble-
bushes with sharp prickers on them, which prevent any
of the Oz people who live down below from climbing up
to see what is on top. But on top live the Yips, and
although the space they occupy is not great in extent
the wee country is all their own. The Yips had never --
up to the time this story begins -- left their broad
tableland to go down into the Land of Oz, nor had the
Oz people ever climbed up to the country of the Yips.

Living all alone as they did, the Yips had queer ways
and notions of their own and did not resemble any other
people of the Land of Oz. Their houses were scattered
all over the flat surface; not like a city, grouped
together, but set wherever their owners' fancy
dictated, with fields here, trees there, and odd little
paths connecting the houses one with another.

It was here, on the morning when Ozma so strangely
disappeared from the Emerald City, that Cayke the
Cookie Cook discovered that her diamond-studded gold
dishpan had been stolen, and she raised such a hue-and-
cry over her loss and wailed and shrieked so loudly
that many of the Yips gathered around her house to
inquire what was the matter.

It was a serious thing, in any part of the Land of
Oz, to accuse one of stealing, so when the Yips heard
Cayke the Cookie Cook declare that her jeweled dishpan
had been stolen they were both humiliated and disturbed
and forced Cayke to go with them to the Frogman to see
what could be done about it.

I do not suppose you have ever before heard of the
Frogman, for like all other dwellers on that tableland
he had never been away from it, nor had anyone come up
there to see him. The Frogman was, in truth, descended
from the common frogs of Oz, and when he was first born
he lived in a pool in the Winkie Country and was much
like any other frog. Being of an adventurous nature,
however, he soon hopped out of his pool and began to
travel, when a big bird came along and seized him in
its beak and started to fly away with him to its nest.
When high in the air the frog wriggled so frantically
that he got loose and fell down-down-down into a small
hidden pool on the tableland of the Yips. Now this
pool, it seems, was unknown to the Yips because it was
surrounded by thick bushes and was not near to any
dwelling, and it proved to be an enchanted pool, for
the frog grew very fast and very big, feeding on the
magic skosh which is found nowhere else on earth except
in that one pool. And the skosh not only made the frog
very big, so that when he stood on his hind legs he was
tall as any Yip in the country, but it made him
unusually intelligent, so that he soon knew more than
the Yips did and was able to reason and to argue very
well indeed.

No one could expect a frog with these talents to
remain in a hidden pool, so he finally got out of it
and mingled with the people of the tableland, who were
amazed at his appearance and greatly impressed by his
learning. They had never seen a frog before and the
frog had never seen a Yip before, but as there were
plenty of Yips and only one frog, the frog became the
most important. He did not hop any more, but stood
upright on his hind legs and dressed himself in fine
clothes and sat in chairs and did all the things that
people do; so he soon came to be called the Frogman,
and that is the only name he has ever had.

After some years had passed the people came to regard
the Frogman as their adviser in all matters that
puzzled them. They brought all their difficulties to
him and when he did not know anything he pretended to
know it, which seemed to answer just as well. Indeed,
the Yips thought the Frogman was much wiser than he
really was, and he allowed them to think so, being very
proud of his position of authority.

There was another pool on the tableland, which was
not enchanted but contained good clear water and was
located close to the dwellings. Here the people built
the Frogman a house of his own, close to the edge of
the pool, so that he could take a bath or a swim
whenever he wished. He usually swam in the pool in the
early morning, before anyone else was up, and during
the day he dressed himself in his beautiful clothes and
sat in his house and received the visits of all the
Yips who came to him to ask his advice.

The Frogman's usual costume consisted of knee-
breeches made of yellow satin plush, with trimmings of
gold braid and jeweled knee-buckles; a white satin vest
with silver buttons in which were set solitaire rubies;
a swallow-tailed coat of bright yellow; green stockings
and red leather shoes turned up at the toes and having
diamond buckles. He wore, when he walked out, a purple
silk hat and carried a gold-headed cane. Over his eyes
he wore great spectacles with gold rims, not because
his eyes were bad but because the spectacles made him
look wise, and so distinguished and gorgeous was his
appearance that all the Yips were very proud of him.

There was no King or Queen in the Yip Country, so the
simple inhabitants naturally came to look upon the
Frogman as their leader as well as their counselor in
all times of emergency. In his heart the big frog knew
he was no wiser than the Yips, but for a frog to know
as much as a person was quite remarkable, and the
Frogman was shrewd enough to make the people believe he
was far more wise than he really was. They never
suspected he was a humbug, but listened to his words
with great respect and did just what he advised them
to do.

Now, when Cayke the Cookie Cook raised such an outcry
over the theft of her diamond-studded dishpan, the
first thought of the people was to take her to the
Frogman and inform him of the loss, thinking that of
course he could tell her where to find it.

He listened to the story with his big eyes wide open
behind his spectacles, and said in his deep, croaking
voice:

"If the dishpan is stolen, somebody must have taken
it."

"But who?" asked Cayke, anxiously. "Who is the
thief?"

"The one who took the dishpan, of course, replied the
Frogman, and hearing this all the Yips nodded their
heads gravely and said to one another:

"It is absolutely true!"

"But I want my dishpan!" cried Cayke.

"No one can blame you for that wish," remarked the
Frogman.

"Then tell me where I may find it," she urged.

The look the Frogman gave her was a very wise look
and he rose from his chair and strutted up and down the
room with his hands under his coat-tails, in a very
pompous and imposing manner. This was the first time so
difficult a matter had been brought to him and he
wanted time to think. It would never do to let them
suspect his ignorance and so he thought very, very hard
how best to answer the woman without betraying himself.

"I beg to inform you," said he, "that nothing in the
Yip Country has ever been stolen before."

"We know that, already," answered Cayke the Cookie
Cook, impatiently.

"Therefore," continued the Frogman, "this theft
becomes a very important matter."

"Well, where is my dishpan?" demanded the woman.

"It is lost; but it must be found. Unfortunately, we
have no policemen or detectives to unravel the mystery,
so we must employ other means to regain the lost
article. Cayke must first write a Proclamation and tack
it to the door of her house, and the Proclamation must
read that whoever stole the jeweled dishpan must return
it at once."

"But suppose no one returns it," suggested Cayke.

"Then," said the Frogman, "that very fact will be
proof that no one has stolen it."

Cayke was not satisfied, but the other Yips seemed to
approve the plan highly. They all advised her to do as
the Frogman had told her to, so she posted the sign on
her door and waited patiently for someone to return the
dishpan -- which no one ever did.

Again she went, accompanied by a group of her
neighbors, to the Frogman, who by this time had given
the matter considerable thought. Said he to Cayke:

"I am now convinced that no Yip has taken your
dishpan, and, since it is gone from the Yip Country, I
suspect that some stranger came from the world down
below us, in the darkness of night when all of us were
asleep, and took away your treasure. There can be no
other explanation of its disappearance. So, if you wish
to recover that golden, diamond-studded dish-pan, you
must go into the lower world after it."

This was indeed a startling proposition. Cayke and
her friends went to the edge of the fiat tableland and
looked down the steep hillside to the plains below. It
was so far to the bottom of the hill that nothing there
could be seen very distinctly and it seemed to the Yips
very venturesome, if not dangerous, to go so far from
home into an unknown land.

However, Cayke wanted her dishpan very badly, so she
turned to her friends and asked:

"Who will go with me?"

No one answered this question, but after a period of
silence one of the Yips said:

"We know what is here, on the top of this flat hill,
and it seems to us a very pleasant place; but what is
down below we do not know. The chances are it is not so
pleasant, so we had best stay where we are.

"It may be a far better country than this is,"
suggested the Cookie Cook.

"Maybe, maybe," responded another Yip, "but why take
chances? Contentment with one's lot is true wisdom.
Perhaps, in some other country, there are better
cookies than you cook; but as we have always eaten your
cookies, and liked them -- except when they are burned
on the bottom -- we do not long for any better ones."

Cayke might have agreed to this argument had she not
been so anxious to find her precious dishpan, but now
she exclaimed impatiently:

"You are cowards -- all of you! If none of you are
willing to explore with me the great world beyond this
small hill, I will surely go alone."

"That is a wise resolve," declared the Yips, much
relieved. "It is your dishpan that is lost, not ours;
and, if you are willing to risk your life and liberty
to regain it, no one can deny you the privilege."

While they were thus conversing the Frogman joined
them and looked down at the Plain with his big eyes and
seemed unusually thoughtful. In fact, the Frogman was
thinking that he'd like to see more of the world. Here
in the Yip Country he had become the most important
creature of them all and his importance was getting to
be a little tame. It would be nice to have other people
defer to him and ask his advice and there seemed no
reason, so far as he could see, why his fame should not
spread throughout all Oz.

He knew nothing of the rest of the world, but it was
reasonable to believe that there were more people
beyond the mountain where he now lived than there were
Yips, and if he went among them he could surprise them
with his display of wisdom and make them bow down to
him as the Yips did. In other words, the Frogman was
ambitious to become still greater than he was, which
was impossible if he always remained upon this
mountain. He wanted others to see his gorgeous clothes
and listen to his solemn sayings, and here was an
excuse for him to get away from the Yip Country. So he
said to Cayke the Cookie Cook:

"I will go with you, my good woman," which greatly
Pleased Cayke because she felt the Frogman could be of
much assistance to her in her search.

But now, since the mighty Frogman had decided to
undertake the journey, several of the Yips who were
young and daring at once made up their minds to go
along; so the next morning after breakfast the Frogman
and Cayke the Cookie Cook and nine of the Yips started
to slide down the side of the mountain. The bramble
bushes and cactus plants were very prickly and
uncomfortable to the touch, so the Frogman commanded
the Yips to go first and break a path, so that when he
followed them he would not tear his splendid clothes.
Cayke, too, was wearing her best dress, and was
likewise afraid of the thorns and prickers, so she kept
behind the Frogman.

They made rather slow progress and night overtook
them before they were halfway down the mountain side,
so they found a cave in which they sought shelter until
morning. Cayke had brought along a basket full of her
famous cookies, so they all had plenty to eat.

On the second day the Yips began to wish they had not
embarked on this adventure. They grumbled a good deal
at having to cut away the thorns to make the path for
the Frogman and the Cookie Cook, for their own clothing
suffered many tears, while Cayke and the Frogman
traveled safely and in comfort.

"If it is true that anyone came to our country to
steal your diamond dishpan," said one of the Yips to
Cayke, "it must have been a bird, for no person in the
form of a man, woman or child could have climbed
through these bushes and back again."

"And, allowing he could have done so," said another
Yip, "the diamond-studded gold dishpan would not have
repair him for his troubles and his tribulations."

"For my part," remarked a third Yip, "I would rather
go back home and dig and polish some more diamonds, and
mine some more gold, and make you another dishpan, than
be scratched from bead to heel by these dreadful
bushes. Even now, if my mother saw me, she would not
know I am her son."

Gayke paid no heed to these mutterings, nor did the
Frogman. Although their journey was slow it was being
made easy for them by the Yips, so they had nothing to
complain of and no desire to turn back.

Quite near to the bottom of the great hill they came
upon a deep gulf, the sides of which were as smooth as
glass. The gulf extended a long distance -- as far as
they could see, in either direction -- and although it
was not very wide it was far too wide for the Yips to
leap across it. And, should they fall into it, it was
likely they might never get out again.

"Here our journey ends," said the Yips. "We must go
back again."

Cayke the Cookie Cook began to weep.

"I shall never find my pretty dishpan again -- and my
heart will be broken!" she sobbed.

The Frogman went to the edge of the gulf and with his
eye carefully measured the distance to the other side.

"Being a frog," said he, "I can leap, as all frogs
do; and, being so big and strong, I am sure I can leap
across this gulf with ease. But the rest of you, not
being frogs, must return the way you came.

"We will do that with pleasure," cried the Yips and
at once they turned and began to climb up the steep
mountain, feeling they had had quite enough of this
unsatisfactory adventure. Cayke the Cookie Cook did not
go with them, however. She sat on a rock and wept and
wailed and was very miserable.

"Well," said the Frogman to her, "I will now bid you
good-bye. If I find your diamond decorated gold dishpan
I will promise to see that it is safely returned to
you."

"But I prefer to find it myself!" she said. "See
here, Frogman, why can't you carry me across the gulf
when you leap it? You are big and strong, while I am
small and thin."

The Frogman gravely thought over this suggestion. It
was a fact that Cayke the Cookie Cook was not a heavy
person. Perhaps he could leap the gulf with her on his
back.

"If you are willing to risk a fall," said he, "I will
make the attempt."

At once she sprang up and grabbed him around his neck
with both her arms. That is, she grabbed him where his
neck ought to be, for the Frogman had no neck at all.
Then he squatted down, as frogs do when they leap, and
with his powerful rear legs he made a tremendous jump.

Over the gulf he sailed, with the Cookie Cook on his
back, and he had leaped so bard -- to make sure of not
falling in that he sailed over a lot of bramble-bushes
that grew on the other side and landed in a clear space
which was so far beyond the gulf that when they looked
back they could not see it at all.

Cayke now got off the Frogman's back and he stood
erect again and carefully brushed the dust from his
velvet coat and rearranged his white satin necktie.

"I had no idea I could leap so far," he said
wonderingly. "leaping is one more accomplishment I can
now add to the long list of deeds I am able to
perform."

"You are certainly fine at leap-frog," said the
Cookie Cook, admiringly; "but, as you say, you are
wonderful in many ways. If we meet with any people down
here I am sure they will consider you the greatest and
grandest of all living creatures."

"Yes," he replied, "I shall probably astonish
strangers, because they have never before had the
pleasure of seeing me. Also they will marvel at my
great learning. Every time I open my mouth, Cayke, I am
liable to say something important.

"That is true," she agreed, "and it is fortunate your
mouth is so very wide and opens so far, for otherwise
all the wisdom might not be able to get out of it."

"Perhaps nature made it wide for that very reason,
said the Frogman. "But come; let us now go on, for it
is getting late and we must find some sort of shelter
before night overtakes us."




Chapter Four

Among the Winkies


The settled parts of the Winkie Country are full of
happy and contented people who are ruled by a tin
Emperor named Nick Chopper, who in turn is a subject of
the beautiful girl Ruler, Ozma of Oz. But not all of
the Winkie Country is fully settled. At the east, which
part lies nearest the Emerald City, there are beautiful
farmhouses and roads, but as you travel west you first
come to a branch of the Winkie River, beyond which
there is a rough country where few people live, and
some of these are quite unknown to the rest of the
world. After passing through this rude section of
territory, which no one ever visits, you would come to
still another branch of the Winkie River, after
crossing which you would find another well settled part
of the Winkie Country, extending westward quite to the
Deadly Desert that surrounds all the Land of Oz and
separates that favored fairyland from the more common
outside world. The Winkies who live in this west
section have many tin mines, from which metal they make
a great deal of rich jewelry and other articles, all of
which are highly esteemed in the Land of Oz because tin
is so bright and pretty, and there is not so much of it
as there is of gold and silver.

Not all the Winkies are miners, however, for some
till the fields and grow grains for food, and it was at
one of these far west Winkie farms that the Frogman and
Cayke the Cookie Cook first arrived after they had
descended from the mountain of the Yips.

"Goodness me!" cried Nellary, the Winkie wife, when
she saw the strange couple approaching her house. "I
have seen many queer creatures in the Land of Oz, but
none more queer than this giant frog, who dresses like
a man and walks on his hind legs. Come here, Wiljon,"
she called to her husband, who was eating his
breakfast, "and take a look at this astonishing freak."

Wiljon the Winkie came to the door and looked out. He
was still standing in the doorway when the Frogman
approached and said with a haughty croak:

"Tell me, my good man, have you seen a diamond-
studded gold dishpan?"

"No; nor have I seen a copper-plated lobster,"
replied Wiljon, in an equally haughty tone.

The Frogman stared at him and said:

"Do not be insolent, fellow!"

"No," added Cayke the Cookie Cook, hastily, "you must
be very polite to the great Frogman, for he is the
wisest creature in all the world."

"Who says that?" inquired Wiljon.

"He says so himself," replied Cayke, and the Frogman
nodded and strutted up and down, twirling his gold-
headed cane very gracefully.

"Does the Scarecrow admit that this overgrown frog is
the wisest creature in the world?" asked Wiljon.

"I do not know who the Scarecrow is," answered Cayke
the Cookie Cook.

"Well, he lives at the Emerald City, and he is
supposed to have the finest brains in all Oz. The
Wizard gave them to him, you know."

"Mine grew in my head," said the Frogman pompously,
"so I think they must be better than any wizard brains.
I am so wise that sometimes my wisdom makes my head
ache. I know so much that often I have to forget part
of it, since no one creature, however great, is able to
contain so much knowledge."

"It must be dreadful to be stuffed full of wisdom,"
remarked Wiljon reflectively, and eyeing the Frogman
with a doubtful look. "It is my good fortune to know
very little."

"I hope, however, you know where my jeweled dishpan
is," said the Cookie Cook anxiously.

"I do not know even that," returned the Winkie. "We
have trouble enough in keeping track of our own
dishpans, without meddling with the dishpans of
strangers."

Finding him so ignorant, the Frogman proposed that
they walk on and seek Cayke's dishpan elsewhere.
Wiljon the Winkie did not seem greatly impressed by the
great Frogman, which seemed to that personage as
strange as it was disappointing; but others in this
unknown land might prove more respectful.

"I'd like to meet that Wizard of Oz," remarked Cayke,
as they walked along a path. "If he could give a
Scarecrow brains he might be able to find my dishpan."

"Poof!" grunted the Frogman scornfully; "I am greater
than any wizard. Depend on me. If your dishpan is
anywhere in the world I am sure to find it."

"If you do not, my heart will be broken," declared
the Cookie Cook in a sorrowful voice.

For a while the Frogman walked on in silence. Then he
asked: "Why do you attach so much importance to a
dishpan?"

"It is the greatest treasure I posess," replied the
woman. "It belonged to my mother and to all my
grandmothers, since the beginning of time. It is, I
believe, the very oldest thing in all the Yip Country
-- or was while it was there -- and," she added,
dropping her voice to an awed whisper, "it has magic
powers!"

"In what way?" inquired the Frogman, seeming to be
surprised at this statement.

"Whoever has owned that dishpan has been a good cook,
for one thing. No one else is able to make such good
cookies as I have cooked, as you and all the Yips know.
Yet, the very morning after my dishpan was stolen. I
tried to make a batch of cookies and they burned up in
the oven! I made another batch that proved too tough to
eat, and I was so ashamed of them that I buried them in
the ground. Even the third batch of cookies, which I
brought with me in my basket, were pretty poor stuff
and no better than any woman could make who does not
own my diamond-studded gold dishpan. In fact, my good
Frogman, Cayke the Cookie Cook will never be able to
cook good cookies again until her magic dishpan is
restored to her."

"In that case," said the Frogman with a sigh, "I
suppose we must manage to find it."




Chapter Five

Ozma's Friends Are Perplexed


"Really,"  said Dorothy, looking solemn,  this is very
s'prising. We can't find even a shadow of Ozma anywhere
in the Em'rald City; and, wherever she's gone, she's
taken her Magic Picture with her."

She was standing in the courtyard of the palace with
Betsy and Trot, while Scraps, the Patchwork Girl,
Danced around the group, her hair flying in the wind.

"P'raps," said Scraps, still dancing, "someone has
stolen Ozma."

"Oh, they'd never dare do that!" exclaimed tiny Trot.

"And stolen the Magic Picture, too, so the thing
can't tell where she is," added the Patchwork Girl.

"That's nonsense," said Dorothy. "Why, ev'ryone loves
Ozma. There isn't a person in the Land of Oz who would
steal a single thing she owns."

"Huh!" replied the Patchwork Girl. "You don't know
ev'ry person in the Land of Oz."

"Why don't I?"

"It's a big country," said Scraps. "There are cracks
and corners in it that even Ozma doesn't know of."

"The Patchwork Girl's just daffy," declared Betsy.

"No; she's right about that," replied Dorothy
thoughtfully. "There are lots of queer people in this
fairyland who never come near Ozma or the Em'rald City.
I've seen some of 'em myself, girls; but I haven't seen
all, of course, and there might be some wicked persons
left in Oz, yet, though I think the wicked witches have
all been destroyed."

Just then the Wooden Sawhorse dashed into the
courtyard with the Wizard of Oz on his back.

"Have you found Ozma?" cried the Wizard when the
Sawhorse stopped beside them.

"Not yet," said Dorothy. "Doesn't Glinda know where
she is?"

"No. Glinda's Book of Records and all her magic
instruments are gone. Someone must have stolen them."

"Goodness me!" exclaimed Dorothy, in alarm. "This is
the biggest steal I ever heard of. Who do you think did
it, Wizard?"

"I've no idea," he answered. "But I have come to get
my own bag of magic tools and carry them to Glinda. She
is so much more powerful than I that she may be able to
discover the truth by means of my magic, quicker and
better than I could myself."

"Hurry, then," said Dorothy, "for we're all getting
terr'bly worried."

The Wizard rushed away to his rooms but presently
came back with a long, sad face.

"It's gone!" he said.

"What's gone?" asked Scraps.

"My black bag of magic tools. Someone must have
stolen it!"

They looked at one another in amazement.

"This thing is getting desperate," continued the
Wizard. "All the magic that belongs to Ozma, or to
Glinda, or to me, has been stolen."

"Do you suppose Ozma could have taken them, herself,
for some purpose?" asked Betsy.

"No, indeed," declared the Wizard. "I suspect some
enemy has stolen Ozma and, for fear we would follow and
recapture her, has taken all our magic away from us."

"How dreadful!" cried Dorothy. "The idea of anyone
wanting to injure our dear Ozma! Can't we do anything
to find her, Wizard?"

"I'll ask Glinda. I must go straight back to her and
tell her that my magic tools have also disappeared. The
good Sorceress will be greatly shocked, I know."

With this he jumped upon the back of the Sawhorse
again and the quaint steed, which never tired, dashed
away at fall speed.

The three girls were very much disturbed in mind.
Even the Patchwork Girl was more quiet than usual and
seemed to realize that a great calamity had overtaken
them all. Ozma was a fairy of considerable power and
all the creatures in Oz, as well as the three mortal
girls from the outside world, looked upon her as their
protector and friend. The idea of their beautiful girl
Ruler's being overpowered by an enemy and dragged from
her splendid palace a captive was too astonishing for
them to comprehend, at first. Yet what other
explanation of the mystery could there be?

"Ozma wouldn't go away willingly, without letting us
know about it," asserted Dorothy; "and she wouldn't
steal Glinda's Great Book of Records, or the Wizard's
magic, 'cause she could get them any time, just asking
for 'em. I'm sure some wicked person has done all
this."

"Someone in the Land of Oz?" asked Trot.

"Of course. No one could get across the Deadly
Desert, you know, and no one but an Oz person could
know about the Magic Picture and the Book of Records
and the Wizard's magic, or where they were kept, and so
be able to steal the whole outfit before we could stop
'em. It must be someone who lives in the Land of Oz."

"But who-who-who?" asked Scraps. "That's the
question. Who?"

"If we knew," replied Dorothy, severely, "we wouldn't
be standing here, doing nothing."

Just then two boys entered the courtyard and
approached the group of girls. One boy was dressed in
the fantastic Munchkin costume -- a blue jacket and
knickerbockers, blue leather shoes and a blue hat with
a high peak and tiny silver bells dangling from its rim
-- and this was Ojo the Lucky, who had once come from
the Munchkin Country of Oz and now lived in the Emerald
City. The other boy was an American, from Philadelphia,
and had lately found his way to Oz in the company of
Trot and Cap'n Bill. His name was Button-Bright; that
is, everyone called him by that name, and knew no
other.

Button-Bright was not quite as big as the Munchkin
boy, but he wore the same kind of clothes, only they
were of different colors. As the two came up to the
girls, arm in arm, Button-Bright remarked:

"Hello, Dorothy. They say Ozma is lost."

"Who says so?" she asked.

"Ev'rybody's talking about it, in the City," he
replied.

"I wonder how the people found it out?" Dorothy
asked.

"I know," said Ojo. "Jellia Jamb told them. She has
been asking everywhere if anyone has seen Ozma."

"That's too bad," observed Dorothy, frowning.

"Why?" asked Button-Bright.

"There wasn't any use making all our people unhappy,
till we were dead certain that Ozma can't be found."

"Pshaw," said Button-Bright, "It's nothing to get
lost. I've been lost lots of times."

"That's true," admitted Trot, who knew that the boy
had a habit of getting lost and then finding himself
again; "but it's diff'rent with Ozma. She's the Ruler
of all this big fairyland and we're 'fraid that the
reason she's lost is because somebody has stolen her
away."

"Only wicked people steal," said Ojo. "Do you know of
any wicked people in Oz, Dorothy?"

"No," she replied.

"They're here, though," cried Scraps, dancing up to
them and then circling around the group. Ozma's stolen;
someone in Oz stole her; only wicked people steal; so
someone in Oz is wicked!"

There was no denying the truth of this statement. The
faces of all of them were now solemn and sorrowful.

"One thing is sure," said Button-Bright, after a
time, "if Ozma has been stolen, someone ought to find
her and punish the thief."

"There may be a lot of thieves," suggested Trot
gravely, "and in this fairy country they don t seem to
have any soldiers or policemen."

"There is one soldier," claimed Dorothy. "He has
green whiskers and a gun and is a Major-General; but no
one is afraid of either his gun or his whiskers, 'cause
he's so tender-hearted that he wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Well, a soldier's a soldier," said Betsy, "and
perhaps he'd hurt a wicked thief if he wouldn't hurt a
fly. Where is he?"

"He went fishing about two months ago and hasn't come
back yet," explained Button-Bright.

"Then I can't see that he will be of much use to us
in this trouble," sighed little Trot. "But p'raps Ozma,
who is a fairy, can get away from the thieves without
any help from anybody."

"She might be able to," admitted Dorothy,
reflectively, "but if she had the power to do that, it
isn't likely she'd have let herself be stolen. So the
thieves must have been even more powerful in magic than
our Ozma."

There was no denying this argument and, although they
talked the matter over all the rest of that day, they
were unable to decide how Ozma had been stolen against
her will or who had committed the dreadful deed.

Toward evening the Wizard came back, riding slowly
upon the Sawhorse because he felt discouraged and
perplexed. Glinda came, later, in her aerial chariot
drawn by twenty milk-white swans, and she also seemed
worried and unhappy. More of Ozma's friends joined them
and that evening they all had a long talk together.

"I think," said Dorothy, "we ought to start out right
away in search of our dear Ozma. It seems cruel for us
to live comf'tably in her Palace while she is a
pris'ner in the power of some wicked enemy."

"Yes," agreed Glinda the Sorceress, "someone ought to
search for her. I cannot go myself, because I must work
hard in order to create some new instruments of sorcery
by means of which I may rescue our fair Ruler. But if
you can find her, in the meantime, and let me know who
has stolen her, it will enable me to rescue her much
more quickly."

"Then we'll start to-morrow morning," decided
Dorothy. "Betsy and Trot and I won't waste another
minute."

"I'm not sure you girls will make good detectives,"
remarked the Wizard; "but I'll go with you, to protect
you from harm and to give you my advice. All my
wizardry, alas, is stolen, so I am now really no more a
wizard than any of you; but I will try to protect you
if any enemies you may meet."

"What harm could happen to us in Oz?" inquired Trot.

"What harm happened to Ozma?" returned the Wizard.
"If there is an Evil Power abroad in our fairyland;
which is able to steal not only Ozma and her Magic
Picture, but Glinda's Book of Records and all her
magic, and my black bag containing all my tricks of
wizardry, then that Evil Power may yet cause us
considerable injury. Ozma is a fairy, and so is Glinda,
so no power can kill or destroy them; but you girls are
all mortals, and so are Button-Bright and I, so we must
watch out for ourselves."

"Nothing can kill me," said Ojo, the Munchkin boy.

"That is true," replied the Sorceress, "and I think
it may be well to divide the searchers into several
parties, that they may cover all the land of Oz more
quickly. So I will send Ojo and Unc Nunkie and Dr. Pipt
into the Munchkin Country, which they are well
acquainted with; and I will send the Scarecrow and the
Tin Woodman into the Quadling Country, for they are
fearless and brave and never tire; and to the Gillikin
Country, where many dangers lurk, I will send the
Shaggy Man and his brother, with Tik-Tok and Jack
Pumpkinhead. Dorothy may make up her own party and
travel into the Winkie Country. All of you must
inquire everywhere for Ozma and try to discover where
she is hidden."

They thought this a very wise plan and adopted it
without question. In Ozma's absence Glinda the Good was
the most important person in Oz and all were glad to
serve under her direction.




Chapter Six

The Search Party


Next morning, as soon as the sun was up, Glinda flew
back to her castle, stopping on the way to instruct the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, who were at that time
staying at the college of Professor H. M. Wogglebug, T.
E., and taking a course of his Patent Educational
Pills. On hearing of Ozma's loss they started at once
for the Quadling Country to search for her.

As soon as Glinda had left the Emerald City, Tik-Tok
and the Shaggy Man and Jack Pumpkinhead, who had been
present at the conference, began their journey into the
Gillikin Country, and an hour later Ojo and Unc Nunkie
joined Dr. Pipt and together they traveled toward the
Munchkin Country. When all these searchers were gone,
Dorothy and the Wizard completed their own
preparations.

The Wizard hitched the Sawhorse to the Red Wagon,
which would seat four very comfortably. He wanted
Dorothy, Betsy, Trot and the Patchwork Girl to ride in
the wagon, but Scraps came up to them mounted upon the
Woozy, and the Woozy said he would like to join the
party. Now this Woozy was a most peculiar animal,
having a square head, square body, square legs and
square tail. His skin was very tough and hard,
resembling leather, and while his movements were
somewhat clumsy the beast could travel with remarkable
swiftness. His square eyes were mild and gentle in
expression and he was not especially foolish. The Woozy
and the Patchwork Girl were great friends and so the
Wizard agreed to let the Woozy go with them.

Another great beast now appeared and asked to go
along. This was none other than the famous Cowardly
Lion, one of the most interesting creatures in all Oz.
No lion that roamed the jungles or plains could compare
in size or intelligence with this Cowardly Lion, who --
like all animals living in Oz -- could talk, and who
talked with more shrewdness and wisdom than many of the
people did. He said he was cowardly because he always
trembled when he faced danger, but he had faced danger
many times and never refused to fight when it was
necessary. This Lion was a great favorite with Ozma and
always guarded her throne on state occasions. He was
also an old companion and friend of the Princess
Dorothy, so the girl was delighted to have him join the
party.

"I'm so nervous over our dear Ozma," said the
Cowardly Lion in his deep, rumbling voice, "that it
would make me unhappy to remain behind while you are
trying to find her. But do not get into any danger, I
beg of you, for danger frightens me terribly."

"We'll not get into danger if we can poss'bly help
it," promised Dorothy; "but we shall do anything to
find Ozma, danger or no danger."

The addition of the Woozy and the Cowardly Lion to
the party gave Betsy Bobbin an idea and she ran to the
marble stables at the rear of the palace and brought
out her mule, Hank by name. Perhaps no mule you ever
saw was so lean and bony and altogether plain looking
as this Hank, but Betsy loved him dearly because he was
faithful and steady and not nearly so stupid as most
mules are considered to be. Betsy had a saddle for Hank
and declared she would ride on his back, an arrangement
approved by the Wizard because it left only four of the
party to ride on the seats of the Red Wagon -- Dorothy and
Button-Bright and Trot and himself.

An old sailor-man, who had one wooden leg, came to
see them off and suggested that they put a supply of
food and blankets in the Red Wagon, in as much as they
were uncertain how long they would be gone. This
sailor-man was called Cap'n Bill. He was a former
friend and comrade of Trot and had encountered many
adventures in company with the little girl. I think he
was sorry he could not go with her on this trip, but
Glinda the Sorceress had asked Cap'n Bill to remain in
the Emerald City and take charge of the royal palace
while everyone else was away, and the one-legged sailor
had agreed to do so.

They loaded the back end of the Red Wagon with
everything they thought they might need, and then they
formed a procession and marched from the palace through
the Emerald City to the great gates of the wall that
surrounded this beautiful capital of the Land of Oz.
Crowds of citizens lined the streets to see them pass
and to cheer them and wish them success, for all were
grieved over Ozma's loss and anxious that she be found
again.

First came the Cowardly Lion; then the Patchwork Girl
riding upon the Woozy; then Betsy Bobbin on her mule
Hank; and finally the Sawhorse drawing the Red Wagon,
in which were seated the Wizard and Dorothy and Button-
Bright and Trot. No one was obliged to drive the
Sawhorse, so there were no reins to his harness; one
had only to tell him which way to go, fast or slow, and
he understood perfectly.

It was about this time that a shaggy little black dog
who had been lying asleep in Dorothy's room in the
palace woke up and discovered he was lonesome.
Everything seemed very still throughout the great
building and Toto -- that was the little dog's name --
missed the customary chatter of the three girls. He
never paid much attention to what was going on around
him and, although he could speak, he seldom said
anything; so the little dog didn't know about Ozma's
loss or that everyone had gone in search of her. But he
liked to be with people, and especially with his own
mistress, Dorothy, and having yawned and stretched
himself and found the door of the room ajar he trotted
out into the corridor and went down the stately marble
stairs to the hall of the palace, where he met Jellia
Jamb.

"Where's Dorothy?" asked Toto.

"She's gone to the Winkie Country," answered the
maid.

"When?"

"A little while ago," replied Jellia.

Toto turned and trotted out into the palace garden
and down the long driveway until he came to the streets
of the Emerald City. Here he paused to listen and,
hearing sounds of cheering, he ran swiftly along until
he came in sight of the Red Wagon and the Woozy and the
Lion and the Mule and all the others. Being a wise
little dog, he decided not to show himself to Dorothy
just then, lest he be sent back home; but he never lost
sight of the party of travelers, all of whom were so
eager to get ahead that they never thought to look
behind them.

When they came to the gates in the city wall the
Guardian of the Gates came out to throw wide the golden
portals and let them pass through.

"Did any strange person come in or out of the city on
the night before last, when Ozma was stolen?" asked
Dorothy.

"No, indeed, Princess," answered the Guardian of the
Gates.

"Of course not," said the Wizard. "Anyone clever
enough to steal all the things we have lost would not
mind the barrier of a wall like this, in the least. I
think the thief must have flown through the air, for
otherwise he could not have stolen from Ozma's royal
palace and Glinda's far-away castle in the same night.
Moreover, as there are no airships in Oz and no way for
airships from the outside world to get into this
country, I believe the thief must have flown from place
to place by means of magic arts which neither Glinda
nor I understand."

On they went, and before the gates closed behind them
Toto managed to dodge through them. The country
surrounding the Emerald City was thickly settled and
for a while our friends rode over nicely paved roads
which wound through a fertile country dotted with
beautiful houses, all built in the quaint Oz fashion.
In the course of a few hours, however, they had left
the tilled fields and entered the Country of the
Winkies, which occupies a quarter of all the territory
in the Land of Oz but is not so well known as many
other parts of Ozma's fairyland. Long before night the
travelers had crossed the Winkie River near to the
Scarecrow's Tower (which was now vacant) and had
entered the Rolling Prairie where few people live. They
asked everyone they met for news of Ozma, but none in
this district had seen her or even knew that she had
been stolen. And by nightfall they had passed all the
farmhouses and were obliged to stop and ask for shelter
at the hut of a lonely shepherd. When they halted, Toto
was not far behind. The little dog halted, too, and
stealing softly around the party he hid himself behind
the hut.

The shepherd was a kindly old man and treated the
travelers with much courtesy. He slept out of doors,
that night, giving up his hut to the three girls, who
made their beds on the floor with the blankets they had
brought in the Red Wagon. The Wizard and Button-Bright
also slept out of doors, and so did the Cowardly Lion
and Hank the Mule. But Scraps and the Sawhorse did not
sleep at all and the Woozy could stay awake for a month
at a time, if he wished to, so these three sat in a
little group by themselves and talked together all
through the night.

In the darkness the Cowardly Lion felt a shaggy
little form nestling beside his own, and he said
sleepily:

"Where did you come from, Toto?"

"From home," said the dog. "If you roll over, roll
the other way, so you won't smash me."

"Does Dorothy know you are here?" asked the Lion.

"I believe not," admitted Toto, and he added, a
little anxiously: "Do you think, friend Lion, we are
now far enough from the Emerald City for me to risk
showing myself? Or will Dorothy send me back because I
wasn't invited?"

"Only Dorothy can answer that question," said the
Lion. "For my part, Toto, I consider this affair none
of my business, so you must act as you think best."

Then the huge beast went to sleep again and Toto
snuggled closer to his warm, hairy body and also slept.
He was a wise little dog, in his way, and didn't intend
to worry when there was something much better to do.

In the morning the Wizard built a fire, over which
the girls cooked a very good breakfast.

Suddenly Dorothy discovered Toto sitting quietly
before the fire and the little girl exclaimed:

"Goodness me, Toto! Where did you come from?"

"From the place you cruelly left me," replied
the dog in a reproachful tone.

"I forgot all about you," admitted Dorothy, "and if I
hadn't I'd prob'ly left you with Jellia Jamb, seeing
this isn't a pleasure trip but stric'ly business. But,
now that you're here, Toto, I s'pose you'll have to
stay with us, unless you'd rather go back home again.
We may get ourselves into trouble, before we're done,
Toto."

"Never mind that," said Toto, wagging his tail. "I'm
hungry, Dorothy."

"Breakfas'll soon be ready and then you shall have
your share," promised his little mistress, who was
really glad to have her dog with her. She and Toto had
traveled together before, and she knew he was a good
and faithful comrade.

When the food was cooked and served the girls invited
the old shepherd to join them in their morning meal. He
willingly consented and while they ate he said to them:

"You are now about to pass through a very dangerous
country, unless you turn to the north or to the south
to escape its perils."

"In that case," said the Cowardly Lion, "let us
turn, by all means, for I dread to face dangers of
any sort."

"What's the matter with the country ahead of us?"
inquired Dorothy.

"Beyond this Rolling Prairie," explained the
shepherd, "are the Merry-Go-Round Mountains, set close
together and surrounded by deep gulfs, so that no one
is able to get past them. Beyond the Merry-Go-Round
Mountains it is said the Thistle-Eaters and the Herkus
live."

"What are they like?" demanded Dorothy.

"No one knows, for no one has ever passed the Merry-
Go-Round Mountains," was the reply; "but it is said
that the Thistle-Eaters hitch dragons to their chariots
and that the Herkus are waited upon by giants whom they
have conquered and made their slaves."

"Who says all that?" asked Betsy.

"It is common report," declared the shepherd.
"Everyone believes it."

"I don't see how they know," remarked little Trot,
"if no one has been there."

"Perhaps the birds who fly over that country brought
the news," suggested Betsy.

"If you escaped those dangers," continued the
shepherd, "you might encounter others still more
serious, before you came to the next branch of the
Winkie River. It is true that beyond that river there
lies a fine country, inhabited by good people, and if
you reached there you would have no further trouble. It
is between here and the west branch of the Winkie River
that all dangers lie, for that is the unknown territory
that is inhabited by terrible, lawless people."

"It may be, and it may not be," said the Wizard. "We
shall know when we get there."

"Well," persisted the shepherd, "in a fairy country
such as ours every undiscovered place is likely to
harbor wicked creatures. If they were not wicked, they
would discover themselves, and by coming among us
submit to Ozma's rule and be good and considerate, as
are all the Oz people whom we know."

"That argument," stated the little Wizard, "convinces
me that it is our duty to go straight to those unknown
places, however dangerous they may be; for it is surely
some cruel and wicked person who has stolen our Ozma,
and we know it would be folly to search among good
people for the culprit. Ozma may not be hidden in the
secret places of the Winkie Country, it is true, but it
is our duty to travel to every spot, however dangerous,
where our beloved Ruler is likely to be imprisoned."

"You're right about that," said Button-Bright
approvingly. "Dangers don't hurt us; only things that
happen ever hurt anyone, and a danger is a thing that
might happen, and might not happen, and sometimes don't
amount to shucks. I vote we go ahead and take our
chances."

They were all of he same opinion, so they packed up
and said good-bye to the friendly shepherd and
proceeded on their way.




Chapter Seven

The Merry-Go-Round Mountains


The Rolling Prairie was not difficult to travel over,
although it was all up-hill and down-hill, so for a
while they made good progress. Not even a shepherd was
to be met with now and the farther they advanced the
more dreary the landscape became. At noon they stopped
for a "picnic luncheon," as Betsy called it, and then
they again resumed their journey. All the animals were
swift and tireless and even the Cowardly Lion and the
Mule found they could keep up with the pace of the
Woozy and the Sawhorse.

It was the middle of the afternoon when first they
came in sight of a cluster of low mountains. These were
cone-shaped, rising from broad bases to sharp peaks at
the tops. From a distance the mountains appeared
indistinct and seemed rather small-more like hills than
mountains -- but as the travelers drew nearer they
noted a most unusual circumstance: the hills were all
whirling around, some in one direction and some the
opposite way.

"I guess those are the Merry-Go-Round Mountains, all
right," said Dorothy.

"They must be," said the Wizard.

"They go 'round, sure enough," added Trot, "but they
don't seem very merry."

There were several rows of these mountains, extending
both to the right and to the left, for miles and miles.
How many rows there might be, none could tell, but
between the first row of peaks could be seen other
peaks, all steadily whirling around one way or another.
Continuing to ride nearer, our friends watched these
hills attentively, until at last, coming close up, they
discovered there was a deep but narrow gulf around the
edge of each mountain, and that the mountains were set
so close together that the outer gulf was continuous
and barred farther advance.

At the edge of the gulf they all dismounted and
peered over into its depths. There was no telling where
the bottom was, if indeed there was any bottom at all.
From where they stood it seemed as if the mountains had
been set in one great hole in the ground, just close
enough together so they would not touch, and that each
mountain was supported by a rocky column beneath its
base which extended far down into the black pit below.
From the land side it seemed impossible to get across
the gulf or, succeeding in that, to gain a foothold on
any of the whirling mountains.

"This ditch is too wide to jump across," remarked
Button-Bright.

"P'raps the Lion could do it," suggested Dorothy.

"What, jump from here to that whirling hill?" cried
the Lion indignantly. "I should say not! Even if I
landed there, and could hold on, what good would it do?
There's another spinning mountain beyond it, and
perhaps still another beyond that. I don't believe any
living creature could jump from one mountain to
another, when both are whirling like tops and in
different directions."

"I propose we turn back," said the Wooden Sawhorse,
with a yawn of his chopped-out mouth, as he stared with
his knot eyes at the Merry-Go-Round Mountains.

"I agree with you," said the Woozy, wagging his
square head.

"We should have taken the shepherd's advice," added
Hank the Mule.

The others of the party, however they might be
puzzled by the serious problem that confronted them,
would not allow themselves to despair.

"If we once get over these mountains," said Button-
Bright, "we could probably get along all right."

"True enough," agreed Dorothy. "So we must find some
way, of course, to get past these whirligig hills. But
how?"

"I wish the Ork was with us," sighed Trot.

"But the Ork isn't here," said the Wizard, "and we
must depend upon ourselves to conquer this difficulty.
Unfortunately, all my magic has been stolen; otherwise
I am sure I could easily get over the mountains."

"Unfortunately," observed the Woozy, "none of us has
wings. And we're in a magic country without any magic."

"What is that around your waist, Dorothy?" asked the
Wizard.

"That? Oh, that's just the Magic Belt I once captured
from the Nome King," she replied.

"A Magic Belt! Why, that's fine. I'm sure a Magic
Belt would take you over these hills."

"It might, if I knew how to work it," said the little
girl. "Ozma knows a lot of its magic, but I've never
found out about it. All I know is that while I am
wearing it nothing can hurt me."

"Try wishing yourself across, and see if it will obey
you," suggested the Wizard.

"But what good would that do?" asked Dorothy. "If I
got across it wouldn't help the rest of you, and I
couldn't go alone among all those giants and dragons,
while you stayed here."

"True enough," agreed the Wizard, sadly; and then,
after looking around the group, he inquired: "What is
that on your finger, Trot?"

"A ring. The Mermaids gave it to me," she explained,
"and if ever I'm in trouble when I'm on the water I can
call the Mermaids and they'll come and help me. But the
Mermaids can't help me on the land, you know, 'cause
they swim, and-and-they haven't any legs."

"True enough," repeated the Wizard, more sadly.

There was a big, broad spreading tree near the edge
of the gulf and as the sun was hot above them they all
gathered under the shade of the tree to study the
problem of what to do next.

"If we had a long rope," said Betsy, "we could fasten
it to this tree and let the other end of it down into
the gulf and all slide down it."

"Well, what then?" asked the Wizard.

"Then, if we could manage to throw the rope up the
other side," explained the girl, "we could all climb it
and be on the other side of the gulf."

"There are too many 'if's' in that suggestion,"
remarked the little Wizard. "And you must remember that
the other side is nothing but spinning mountains, so we
couldn't possibly fasten a rope to them -- even if we
had one."

"That rope idea isn't half bad, though," said the
Patchwork Girl, who had been dancing dangerously near
to the edge of the gulf.

"What do you mean?" asked Dorothy.

The Patchwork Girl suddenly stood still and cast her
button eyes around the group.

"Ha, I have it!" she exclaimed. "Unharness the
Sawhorse, somebody; my fingers are too clumsy."

"Shall we?" asked Button-Bright doubtfully, turning
to the others.

"Well, Scraps has a lot of brains, even if she is
stuffed with cotton," asserted the Wizard. "If her
brains can help us out of this trouble we ought
to use them."

So he began unharnessing the Sawhorse, and Button-
Bright and Dorothy helped him. When they had removed
the harness the Patchwork Girl told them to take it all
apart and buckle the straps together, end to end. And,
after they had done this, they found they had one very
long strap that was stronger than any rope.

"It would reach across the gulf, easily," said the
Lion, who with the other animals had sat on his
haunches and watched this proceeding. "But I don't see
how it could be fastened to one of those dizzy
mountains."

Scraps had no such notion as that in her baggy head.
She told them to fasten one end of the strap to a stout
limb of the tree, pointing to one which extended quite
to the edge of the gulf. Button-Bright did that,
climbing the tree and then crawling out upon the limb
until he was nearly over the gulf. There he managed to
fasten the strap, which reached to the ground below,
and then he slid down it and was caught by the Wizard,
who feared he might fall into the chasm.

Scraps was delighted She seized the lower end of the
strap and telling them all to get out of her way she
went back as far as the strap would reach and then made
a sudden run toward the gulf. Over the edge she swung,
clinging to the strap until it had gone as far as its
length permitted, when she let go and sailed gracefully
through the air until she alighted upon the mountain
just in front of them.

Almost instantly, as the great cone continued to
whirl, she was sent flying against the next mountain in
the rear, and that one had only turned halfway around
when Scraps was sent flying to the next mountain behind
it. Then her patchwork form disappeared from view
entirely and the amazed watchers under the tree
wondered what had become of her.

"She's gone, and she can't get back," said the Woozy.

"My, how she bounded from one mountain to another!"
exclaimed the Lion.

"That was because they whirl so fast," the Wizard
explained. "Scraps had nothing to hold on to and so of
course she was tossed from one hill to another. I'm
afraid we shall never see the poor Patchwork Girl
again."

"I shall see her," declared the Woozy. "Scraps is an
old friend of mine and, if there are really Thistle-
Eaters and Giants on the other side of those tops, she
will need someone to protect her. So, here I go!"

He seized the dangling strap firmly in his square
mouth and in the same way that Scraps had done swung
himself over the gulf. He let go the strap at the right
moment and fell upon the first whirling mountain. Then
he bounded to the next one back of it -- not on his
feet but "all mixed up," as Trot said -- and then he
shot across to another mountain, disappearing from view
just as the Patchwork Girl had done.

"It seems to work, all right," remarked Button-
Bright. "I guess I'll try it."

"Wait a minute," urged the Wizard. "Before any more
of us make this desperate leap into the beyond, we must
decide whether all will go, or if some of us will
remain behind."

"Do you s'pose it hurt them much, to bump against
those mountains?" asked Trot.

"I don't s'pose anything could hurt Scraps or the
Woozy," said Dorothy, "and nothing can hurt me, because
I wear the Magic Belt. So, as I'm anxious to find Ozma,
I mean to swing myself across, too."

"I'll take my chances," decided Button-Bright.

"I'm sure it will hurt dreadfully, and I'm afraid to
do it," said the Lion, who was already trembling; "but
I shall do it if Dorothy does."

"Well, that will leave Betsy and the Mule and Trot,"
said the Wizard; "for of course, I shall go, that I may
look after Dorothy. Do you two girls think you can find
your way back home again?" he asked, addressing Trot
and Betsy.

"I'm not afraid; not much, that is," said Trot. "It
looks risky, I know, but I'm sure I can stand it if the
others can."

"If it wasn't for leaving Hank," began Betsy, in a
hesitating voice; but the Mule interrupted her by
saying:

"Co ahead, if you want to, and I'll come after you. A
mule is as brave as a lion, any day."

"Braver," said the Lion, "for I'm a coward, friend
Hank, and you are not. But of course the Sawhorse --"

"Oh, nothing ever hurts me," asserted the Sawhorse
calmly. "There's never been any question about my
going. I can't take the Red Wagon, though."

"No, we must leave the wagon," said the Wizard; "and
also we must leave our food and blankets, I fear. But
if we can defy these Merry-Go-Round Mountains to stop
us we won't mind the sacrifice of some of our
comforts."

"No one knows where we're going to land!" remarked
the Lion, in a voice that sounded as if he were going
to cry.

"We may not land at all," replied Hank; "but the best
way to find out what will happen to us is to swing
across, as Scraps and the Woozy have done."

"I think I shall go last," said the Wizard; "so who
wants to go first?"

"I'll go," decided Dorothy.

"No, it's my turn first," said Button-Bright. "Watch me!"

Even as he spoke the boy seized the strap and after
making a run swung himself across the gulf. Away he
went, bumping from hill to hill until he disappeared.
They listened intently, but the boy uttered no cry
until he had been gone some moments, when they heard a
faint "Hullo-a!" as if called from a great distance.

The sound gave them courage, however, and Dorothy
picked up Toto and held him fast under one arm while
with the other hand she seized the strap and bravely
followed after Button-Bright.

When she struck the first whirling mountain she fell
upon it quite softly, but before she had time to think
she flew through the air and lit with a jar on the side
of the next mountain. Again she flew, and alighted; and
again, and still again, until after five successive
bumps she fell sprawling upon a green meadow and was so
dazed and bewildered by her bumpy journey across the
Merry-Go-Round Mountains that she lay quite still for a
time, to collect her thoughts. Toto had escaped from
her arms just as she fell, and he now sat beside her
panting with excitement.

Then Dorothy realized that someone was hopping her to
her feet, and here was Button-Bright on one side of her
and Scraps on the other, both seeming to be unhurt. The
next object her eyes fell upon was the Woozy, squatting
upon his square back end and looking at her
reflectively, while Toto barked joyously to find his
mistress unhurt after her whirlwind trip.

"Good!" said the Woozy; "here's another and a dog,
both safe and sound. But, my word, Dorothy, you flew
some! If you could have seen yourself, you'd have been
absolutely astonished."

"They say 'Time flies,'" laughed Button-Bright; "but
Time never made a quicker journey than that."

Just then, as Dorothy turned around to look at the
whirling mountains, she was in time to see tiny Trot
come flying from the nearest hill to fall upon the soft
grass not a yard away from where she stood. Trot was so
dizzy she couldn't stand, at first, but she wasn't at
all hurt and presently Betsy came flying to them and
would have bumped into the others had they not treated
in time to avoid her.

Then, in quick succession, came the Lion, Hank and
the Sawhorse, bounding from mountain to mountain to
fall safely upon the greensward. Only the Wizard was
now left behind and they waited so long for him that
Dorothy began to be worried. But suddenly he came
flying from the nearest mountain and tumbled heels over
head beside them. Then they saw that he had wound two
of their blankets around his body, to keep the bumps
from hurting him, and had fastened the blankets with
some of the spare straps from the harness of the
Sawhorse.




Chapter Eight

The Mysterious City


There they sat upon the grass, their heads still
swimming from their dizzy flights, and looked at one
another in silent bewilderment. But presently, when
assured that no one was injured, they grew. more calm
and collected and the Lion said with a sigh of relief:

"Who would have thought those Merry-Go-Round
Mountains were made of rubber?"

"Are they really rubber?" asked Trot.

"They must be," replied the Lion, "for otherwise we
would not have bounded so swiftly from one to another
without getting hurt."

"That is all guesswork," declared the Wizard,
unwinding the blankets from his body, "for none of us
stayed long enough on the mountains to discover what
they are made of. But where are we?"

"That's guesswork, too," said Scraps. "The shepherd
said the Thistle-Eaters live this side of the mountains
and are waited on by giants."

"Oh, no," said Dorothy; "it's the Herkus who
have giant slaves, and the Thistle-Eaters hitch
dragons to their chariots."

"How could they do that?" asked the Woozy. "Dragons
have long tails, which would get in the way of the
chariot wheels'."

"And, if the Herkus have conquered the giants," said
Trot, "they must be at least twice the size of giants.
P'raps the Herkus are the biggest people in all the
world!"

"Perhaps they are," assented the Wizard, in a
thoughtful tone of voice. "And perhaps the shepherd
didn't know what he was talking about. Let us travel on
toward the west and discover for ourselves what the
people of this country are like."

It, seemed a pleasant enough country, and it was
quite still and peaceful when they turned their eyes
away from the silently whirling mountains. There were
trees here and there and green bushes, while throughout
the thick grass were scattered brilliantly colored
flowers. About a mile away was a low hill that hid from
them all the country beyond it, so they realized they
could not tell much about the country until they had
crossed the hill.

The Red Wagon having been left behind, it was now
necessary to make other arrangements for traveling. The
Lion told Dorothy she could ride upon his back, as she
had often done before, and the Woozy said he could
easily carry both Trot and the Patchwork Girl. Betsy
still had her mule, Hank, and Button-Bright and the
Wizard could sit together upon the long, thin back of
the Sawhorse, but they took care to soften their seat
with a pad of blankets before they started. Thus
mounted, the adventurers started for the hill, which
was reached after a brief journey.

As they mounted the crest and gazed beyond the hill
they discovered not far away a walled city, from the
towers and spires of which gay banners were flying. It
was not a very big city, indeed, but its walls were
very high and thick and it appeared that the people who
lived there must have feared attack by a powerful
enemy, else they would not have surrounded their
dwellings with so strong a barrier.

There was no path leading from the mountains to the
city, and this proved that the people seldom or never
visited the whirling hills; but our friends found the
grass soft and agreeable to travel over and with the
city before them they could not well lose their way.
When they drew nearer to the walls, the breeze carried
to their ears the sound of music -- dim at first but
growing louder as they advanced.

"That doesn't seem like a very terr'ble place,"
remarked Dorothy.

"Well, it looks all right," replied Trot, from her
seat on the Woozy, "but looks can't always be trusted."

"My looks can," said Scraps. "I look patchwork, and I
am patchwork, and no one but a blind owl could ever
doubt that I'm the Patchwork Girl." Saying which she
turned a somersault off the Woozy and, alighting on
her feet, began wildly dancing about.

"Are owls ever blind?" asked Trot.

"Always, in the daytime," said Button-Bright. "But
Scraps can see with her button eyes both day and night.
Isn't it queer?"

"It's queer that buttons can see at all," answered
Trot; "but -- good gracious! what's become of the
city?"

"I was going to ask that myself," said Dorothy. "It's
gone!"

The animals came to a sudden halt, for the city had
really disappeared -- walls and all -- and before them
lay the clear, unbroken sweep of the country.

"Dear me!" exclaimed the Wizard. "This is rather
disagreeable. It is annoying to travel almost to a
place and then find it is not there."

"Where can it be, then?" asked Dorothy. "It cert'nly
was there a minute ago."

"I can hear the music yet," declared Button-Bright,
and when they all listened the strains of music could
plainly be heard.

"Oh! there's the city -- over at the left," called
Scraps, and turning their eyes they saw the walls and
towers and fluttering banners far to the left of them.

"We must have lost our way," suggested Dorothy.

"Nonsense," said the Lion. "I, and all the other
animals, have been tramping straight toward the city
ever since we first saw it."

"Then how does it happen --"

"Never mind," interrupted the Wizard, "we are no
farther from it than we were before. It is in a
different direction, that's all; so let us hurry and
get there before it again escapes us.

So on they went, directly toward the city, which
seemed only a couple of miles distant; but when they
had traveled less than a mile it suddenly disappeared
again. Once more they paused, somewhat discouraged, but
in a moment the button eyes of Scraps again discovered
the city, only this time it was just behind them, in
the direction from which they had come.

"Goodness gracious!" cried Dorothy. "There's surely
something wrong with that city. Do you s'pose it's on
wheels, Wizard?"

"It may not be a city at all," he replied, looking
toward it with a speculative gaze.

"What could it be, then?"

"Just an illusion."

"What's that?" asked Trot.

"Something you think you see and don't see."

"I can't believe that," said Button-Bright. "If we
only saw it, we might be mistaken, but if we can see it
and hear it, too, it must be there."

"Where?" asked the Patchwork Girl.

"Somewhere near us," he insisted.

"We will have to go back, I suppose," said the Woozy,
with a sigh.

So back they turned and headed for the walled city
until it disappeared again, Only to reappear at the
right of them. They were constantly getting nearer to
it, however, so they kept their faces turned toward it
as it flitted here and there to all points of the
compass. Presently the Lion, who was leading the
procession, halted abruptly and cried out: "Ouch!"

"What's the matter?" asked Dorothy.

"Ouch -- Ouch!~ repeated the Lion, and leaped
backward so suddenly that Dorothy nearly tumbled from
his back. At the same time Hank the Mule yelled "Ouch!"
almost as loudly as the Lion had done, and he also
pranced backward a few paces.

"It's the thistles," said Betsy. "They prick their
legs."

Hearing this, all looked down, and sure enough the
ground was thick with thistles, which covered the plain
from the point where they stood way up to the walls of
the mysterious city. No pathways through them could be
seen at all; here the soft grass ended and the growth
of thistles began.

"They're the prickliest thistles I ever felt,"
grumbled the Lion. "My legs smart yet from their
stings, though I jumped out of them as quick as I
could."

"Here is a new difficulty," remarked the Wizard in a
grieved tone. "The city has stopped hopping around, it
is true; but how are we to get to it, over this mass of
prickers?"

"They can't hurt me," said the thick-skinned Woozy,
advancing fearlessly and trampling among the thistles.

"Nor me," said the Wooden Sawhorse.

"But the Lion and the Mule cannot stand the
prickers," asserted Dorothy, "and we can't leave them
behind."

"Must we all go back?" asked Trot.

"Course not!" replied Button-Bright scornfully.
"Always, when there's trouble, there's a way out of it,
if you can find it."

"I wish the Scarecrow was here," said Scraps,
standing on her head on the Woozy"s square back. "His
splendid brains would soon show us how to conquer this
field of thistles."

"What's the matter with your brains?" asked the boy.

"Nothing," she said, making a flip-flop into the
thistles and dancing among them without feeling their
sharp points. "I could tell you in half a minute how to
get over the thistles, if I wanted to."

"Tell us, Scraps!" begged Dorothy.

"I don't want to wear my brains out with overwork,"
replied the Patchwork Girl.

"Don't you love Ozma? And don't you want to find
her?" asked Betsy reproachfully.

"Yes, indeed," said Scraps, walking on her hands as
an acrobat does at the circus.

"Well, we can't find Ozma unless we get past these
thistles," declared Dorothy.

Scraps danced around them two or three
times, without reply. Then she said:

"Don't look at me, you stupid folks; look at those
blankets."

The Wizard's face brightened at once.

"Of course!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't we
think of those blankets before?"

"Because you haven't magic brains," laughed Scraps.
"Such brains as you have are of the common sort that
grow in your heads, like weeds in a garden. I'm sorry
for you people who have to be born in order to be
alive."

But the Wizard was not listening to her. He quickly
removed the blankets from the back of the Sawhorse and
spread one of them upon the thistles, just next to the
grass. The thick cloth rendered the prickers harmless,
so the Wizard walked over this first blanket and spread
the second one farther on, in the direction of the
phantom city.

"These blankets," said he, "are for the Lion and the
Mule to walk upon. The Sawhorse and the Woozy can walk
on the thistles."

So the Lion and the Mule walked over the first
blanket and stood upon the second one until the Wizard
had picked up the one they had passed over and spread
it in front of them, when they advanced to that one and
waited while the one behind them was again spread in
front.

"This is slow work," said the Wizard, "but it will
get us to the city after a while."

"The city is a good half mile away, yet," announced
Button-Bright.

"And this is awful hard work for the Wizard," added
Trot.

"Why couldn't the Lion ride on the Woozy's back?"
asked Dorothy. "It's a big, flat back, and the Woozy's
mighty strong. Perhaps the Lion wouldn't fall off."

"You may try it, if you like," said the Woozy to the
Lion. "I can take you to the city in a jiffy and then
come back for Hank."

"I'm -- I'm afraid," said the Cowardly Lion. He was
twice as big as the Woozy.

"Try it," pleaded Dorothy.

"And take a tumble among the thistles?" asked the
Lion reproachfully. But when the Woozy came close to
him the big beast suddenly bounded upon its back and
managed to balance himself there, although forced to
hold his four legs so close together that he was in
danger of toppling over. The great weight of the
monster Lion did not seem to affect the Woozy, who
called to his rider: "Hold on tight!" and ran swiftly
over the thistles toward the city.

The others stood on the blankets and watched the
strange sight anxiously. Of course the Lion couldn't
"hold on tight" because there was nothing to hold to,
and he swayed from side to side as if likely to fall
off any moment. Still, he managed to stick to the
Woozy's back until they were close to the walls of the
city, when he leaped to the ground. Next moment the
Woozy came dashing back at full speed.

"There's a little strip of ground next to the wall
where there are no thistles," he told them, when he had
reached the adventurers once more. "Now, then, friend
Hank, see if you can ride as well as the Lion did."

"Take the others first," proposed the Mule. So the
Sawhorse and the Woozy made a couple of trips over the
thistles to the city walls and carried all the people
in safety, Dorothy holding little Toto in her arms. The
travelers then sat in a group on a little hillock, just
outside the wall, and looked at the great blocks of
gray stone and waited for the Woozy to bring Hank to
them. The Mule was very awkward and his legs trembled
so badly that more than once they thought he would
tumble off, but finally he reached them in safety and
the entire party was now reunited. More than that, they
had reached the city that had eluded them for so long
and in so strange a manner.

"The gates must be around the other side," said the
Wizard. "Let us follow the curve of the wall until we
reach an opening in it."

"Which way?" asked Dorothy.

"We must guess at that," he replied. "Suppose we go
to the left? One direction is as good as another."

They formed in marching order and went around the
city wall to the left. It wasn't a big city, as I have
said, but to go way around it, outside the high wall,
was quite a walk, as they became aware. But around it
our adventurers went, without finding any sign of a
gateway or other opening. When they had returned to the
little mound from which they had started, they
dismounted from the animals and again seated themselves
on the grassy mound.

"It's mighty queer, isn't it?" asked Button-Bright.

"There must be some way for the people to get out and
in,' declared Dorothy. "Do you s'pose they have flying
machines, Wizard?"

"No," he replied, "for in that case they would be
flying all over the Land of Oz, and we know they have
not done that. Flying machines are unknown here. I
think it more likely that the people use ladders to get
over the walls."

"It would be an awful climb, over that high stone
wall," said Betsy.

"Stone, is it?" cried Scraps, who was again dancing
wildly around, for she never tired and could never keep
still for long.

"Course it's stone," answered Betsy scornfully.
"Can't you see?"

"Yes," said Scraps, going closer, "I can see the
wall, but I can't feel it." And then, with her arms
outstretched, she did a very queer thing. She walked
right into the wall and disappeared.

"For goodness sake!" cried Dorothy amazed, as indeed
they all were.




Chapter Nine

The High Coco-Lorum of Thi


And now the Patchwork Girl came dancing out of the wall
again. "Come on!" she called. "It isn't there. There
isn't any wall at all."

"What! No wall?" exclaimed the Wizard.

"Nothing like it," said Scraps. "It's a make-believe.
You see it, but it isn't. Come on into the city; we've
been wasting time."

With this she danced into the wall again and once
more disappeared. Button-Bright, who was rather
venturesome, dashed away after her and also became
invisible to them. The others followed more cautiously,
stretching out their hands to feel the wall and
finding, to their astonishment, that they could feel
nothing because nothing opposed them. They walked on a
few steps and found themselves in the streets of a very
beautiful city. Behind them they again saw the wall,
grim and forbidding as ever; but now they knew it was
merely an illusion, prepared to keep strangers from
entering the city.

But the wall was soon forgotten, for in front of them
were a number of quaint people who stared at them in
amazement, as if wondering where they had come from.
Our friends forgot their good manners, for a time, and
returned the stares with interest, for so remarkable a
people had never before been discovered in all the
remarkable Land of Oz.

Their heads were shaped like diamonds and their
bodies like hearts. All the hair they had was a little
bunch at the tip top of their diamond-shaped heads and
their eyes were very large and round and their noses
and mouths very small. Their clothing was tight-fitting
and of brilliant colors, being handsomely embroidered
in quaint designs with gold or silver threads; but on
their feet they wore sandals, with no stockings
whatever. The expression of their faces was pleasant
enough, although they now showed surprise at the
appearance of strangers so unlike themselves, and our
friends thought they seemed quite harmless.

"I beg your pardon," said the Wizard, speaking for
his party, "for intruding upon you uninvited, but we
are traveling on important business and find it
necessary to visit your city. Will you kindly tell us
by what name your city is called?"

They looked at one another uncertainly, each
expecting some other to answer. Finally a short one
whose heart-shaped body was very broad replied:

"We have no occasion to call our city anything. It is
where we live, that is all."

"But by what name do others call your city?" asked
the Wizard.

"We know of no others, except yourselves," said the
man. And then he inquired: "Were you born with those
queer forms you have, or has some cruel magician
transformed you to them from your natural shapes?"

"These are our natural shapes," declared the Wizard,
"and we consider them very good shapes, too."

The group of inhabitants was constantly being
enlarged by others who joined it. All were evidently
startled and uneasy at the arrival of strangers.

"Have you a King?" asked Dorothy, who knew it was
better to speak with someone in authority. But the man
shook his diamond-like head.

"What is a King?" he asked.

"Isn't there anyone who rules over you?" inquired the
Wizard.

"No," was the reply, "each of us rules himself; or,
at least, tries to do so. It is not an easy thing to
do, as you probably know."

The Wizard reflected.

"If you have disputes among you," said he, after a
little thought, "who settles them?"

"The High Coco-Lorum," they answered in a chorus.

"And who is he?"

"The judge who enforces the laws," said the man who
had first spoken.

"Then he is the principal person here?" continued the
Wizard.

"Well, I would not say that," returned the man in a
puzzled way. "The High Cocolorum is a public servant.
However, he represents the laws, which we must all
obey."

"I think," said the Wizard, "we ought to see your
High Coco-Lorum and talk with him. Our mission here
requires us to consult one high in authority, and the
High Coco-Lorum ought to be high, whatever else he is."

The inhabitants seemed to consider this proposition
reasonable, for they nodded their diamond-shaped heads
in approval. So the broad one who had been their
spokesman said: "Follow me," and, turning, led the way
along one of the streets.

The entire party followed him, the natives falling in
behind. The dwellings they passed were quite nicely
planned and seemed comfortable and convenient. After
leading them a few blocks their conductor stopped
before a house which was neither better nor worse than
the others. The doorway was shaped to admit the
strangely formed bodies of these people, being narrow
at the top, broad in the middle and tapering at the
bottom. The windows were made in much the same way,
giving the house a most peculiar appearance. When their
guide opened the gate a music-box concealed in the
gate-post began to play, and the sound attracted the
attention of the High Coco-Lorum, who appeared at an
open window and inquired:

"What has happened now?"

But in the same moment his eyes fell upon the
strangers and he hastened to open the door and admit
them -- all but the animals, which were left outside
with the throng of natives that had now gathered. For a
small city there seemed to be a large number of
inhabitants, but they did not try to enter the house
and contented themselves with staring curiously at the
strange animals. Toto followed Dorothy.

Our friends entered a large room at the front of the
house, where the High Coco-Lorum asked them to be
seated.

"I hope your mission here is a peaceful one," he
said, looking a little worried, "for the Thists are not
very good fighters and object to being conquered."

"Are your people called Thists?" asked Dorothy.

"Yes. I thought you knew that. And we call our city
Thi."

"Oh!"

"We are Thists because we eat thistles, you know,"
continued the High Coco-Lorum.

"Do you really eat those prickly things?" inquired
Button-Bright wonderingly.

"Why not?" replied the other. "The sharp points of
the thistles cannot hurt us, because all our insides
are gold-lined."

"Gold-lined!"

"To be sure. Our throats and stomachs are lined with
solid gold, and we find the thistles nourishing and
good to eat. As a matter of fact, there is nothing else
in our country that is fit for food. All around the
City of Thi grow countless thistles, and all we need do
is to go and gather them. If we wanted anything else to
eat we would have to plant it, and grow it, and harvest
it, and that would be a lot of trouble and make us
work, which is an occupation we detest."

"But, tell me, please," said the Wizard, "how does it
happen that your city jumps around so, from one part of
the country to another?"

"The city doesn't jump; it doesn't move at all,"
declared the High Coco-Lorum. "However, I will admit
that the land that surrounds it has a trick of turning
this way or that; and so, if one is standing upon the
plain and facing north, he is likely to find himself
suddenly facing west -- or east -- or south. But once
you reach the thistle fields you are on solid ground."

"Ah, I begin to understand," said the Wizard, nodding
his head. "But I have another question to ask: How does
it happen that the Thists have no King to rule over
them?"

"Hush!" whispered the High Coco-Lorum, looking
uneasily around to make sure they were not overheard.
"In reality, I am the King, but the people don't know
it. They think they rule themselves, but the fact is I
have everything my own way. No one else knows anything
about our laws, and so I make the laws to suit myself.
If any oppose me, or question my acts, I tell them it's
the law, and that settles it. If I called myself King,
however, and wore a crown and lived in royal state, the
people would not like me, and might do me harm. As the
High Coco-Lorum of Thi, I'm considered a very agreeable
person."

"It seems a very clever arrangement," said the
Wizard. "And now, as you are the principal person in
Thi, I beg you to tell us if the Royal Ozma is a
captive in your city."

"No," answered the diamond-headed man, "we have no
captives. No strangers but yourselves are here, and we
have never before heard of the Royal Ozma."

"She rules all of Oz," said Dorothy, "and so she
rules your city and you, because you are in the Winkie
Country, which is a part of the Land of Oz."

"It may be," returned the High Coco-Lorum, "for we do
not study geography and have never inquired whether we
live in the Land of Oz or not. And any Ruler who rules
us from a distance, and unknown to us, is welcome to
the job. But what has happened to your Royal Ozma?"

"Someone has stolen her," said the Wizard. "Do you
happen to have any talented magician among your people
-- one who is especially clever, you know?"

"No, none especially clever. We do some magic, of
course, but it is all of the ordinary kind. I do not
think any of us has yet aspired to stealing Rulers,
either by magic or otherwise."

"Then we've come a long way for nothing!" exclaimed
Trot regretfully.

"But we are going farther than this," asserted the
Patchwork Girl, bending her stuffed body backward until
her yarn hair touched the floor and then walking around
on her hands with her feet in the air.

The High Coco-Lorum watched Scraps admiringly.

"You may go farther on, of course," said he, "but I
advise you not to. The Herkus live back of us, beyond
the thistles and the twisting lands, and they are not
very nice people to meet, I assure you."

"Are they giants?" asked Betsy.

"They are worse than that," was the reply. "They have
giants for their slaves and they are so much stronger
than giants that the poor slaves dare not rebel, for
fear of being torn to pieces."

"How do you know,?" asked Scraps.
"Everyone says so," answered the High Coco-Lorum.

"Have you seen the Herkus yourself?" inquired
Dorothy.

"No, but what everyone says must be true; otherwise,
what would be the use of their saying it?"

"We were told, before we got here, that you people
hitch dragons to your chariots," said the little girl.

"So we do," declared the High Coco-Lorum. "And that
reminds me that I ought to entertain you, as strangers
and my guests, by taking you for a ride around our
splendid City of Thi."

Coco-Lorum. "Every time I give an order it is in music,
which is a much more pleasant way to address servants
than in cold, stern word"

"Does this dragon of yours bite?" asked Button-
Bright.

"Mercy, no! Do you think I'd risk the safety of my
innocent people by using a biting dragon to draw my
chariot? I'm proud to say that my dragon is harmless-
unless his steering gear breaks -- and he was
manufactured at the famous dragon-factory in this City
of Thi. Here he comes and you may examine him for
yourselves."

They heard a low rumble and a shrill squeaking sound
and, going out to the front of the house, they saw
coming around the corner a car drawn by a gorgeous
jeweled dragon, which moved its head to right and left
and flashed its eyes like the headlights of an
automobile and uttered a growling noise as it slowly
moved toward them.

When it stopped before the High Coco-Lorum's house
Toto barked sharply at the sprawling beast, but even
tiny Trot could see that the dragon was not alive. Its
scales were of gold and each one was set with sparkling
jewels, while it walked in such a stiff, regular manner
that it could be nothing else than a machine. The
chariot that trailed behind it was likewise of gold and
jewels, and when they entered it they found there were
no seats. Everyone was supposed to stand up while
riding.

The charioteer was a little diamond-headed fellow who
straddled the neck of the dragon and moved the levers
that made it go.

"This," said the High Coco-Lorum, pompously, "is a
wonderful invention. We are all very proud of our
autodragons, many of which are in use by our wealthy
inhabitants. Start the thing going, charioteer!"

The charioteer did not move.

"You forgot to order him in music," suggested
Dorothy.

"Ah, so I did." He touched a button and a music-box
in the dragon's head began to play a tune. At once the
little charioteer pulled over a lever and the dragon
began to move -- very slowly and groaning dismally as
it drew the clumsy chariot after it. Toto trotted
between the wheels. The Sawhorse, the Mule, the Lion
and the Woozy followed after and had no trouble in
keeping up with the machine; indeed, they had to go
slow to keep from running into it. When the wheels
turned another music-box concealed somewhere under the
chariot played a lively march tune which was in
striking contrast with the dragging movement of the
strange vehicle and Button-Bright decided that the
music he had heard when they first sighted this city
was nothing else than a chariot plodding its weary way
through the streets.

All the travelers from the Emerald City thought this
ride the most uninteresting and dreary they had ever
experienced, but the High Coco-Lorum seemed to think it
was grand. He pointed out the different buildings and
parks and fountains, in much the same way that the
conductor of an American "sight-seeing wagon" does, and
being guests they were obliged to submit to the ordeal.
But they became a little worried when their host told
them he had ordered a banquet prepared for them in the
City Hall.

"What are we going to eat?" asked Button-Bright
suspiciously.

"Thistles," was the reply; "fine, fresh thistles,
gathered this very day."

Scraps laughed, for she never ate anything, but
Dorothy said in a protesting voice:

"Our insides are not lined with gold, you know."

"How sad!" exclaimed the High Coco-Lorum; and then he
added, as an afterthought: "But we can have the
thistles boiled, if you prefer."

"I'm 'fraid they wouldn't taste good, even then,"
said little Trot. "Haven't you anything else to eat?"

The High Coco-Lorum shook his diamond-shaped head.

"Nothing that I know of," said he. "But why should we
have anything else, when we have so many thistles?
However, if you can't eat what we eat, don't eat
anything. We shall not be offended and the banquet will
be just as merry and delightful."

Knowing his companions were all hungry the Wizard
said:

"I trust you will excuse us from the banquet, sir,
which will be merry enough without us, although it is
given in our honor. For, as Ozma is not in your city,
we must leave here at once and seek her elsewhere."

"Sure we must!" agreed Dorothy, and she whispered to
Betsy and Trot: "I'd rather Starve somewhere else than
in this city, and -- who knows? -- we may run across
somebedy who eats reg'lar food and will give us some."

So, when the ride was finished, in spite of the
protests of the High Coco-Lorum they insisted on
continuing their journey.

"It will soon be dark," he objected.

"We don't mind the darkness," replied the Wizard.

"Some wandering Herku may get you."

"Do you think the Herkus would hurt us?" asked
Dorothy.

"I cannot say, not having the honor of their
acquaintance. But they are said to be so strong that,
if they had any other place to stand upon, they could
lift the world."

"All of them together?" asked Button-Bright
wonderingly.

"Any one of them could do it," said the High Coco-
Lorum.

"Have you heard of any magicians being among them?"
asked the Wizard, knowing that only a magician could
have stolen Ozma in the way she had been stolen.

"I am told it is quite a magical country," declared
the High Coco-Lorum, "and magic is usually performed by
magicians. But I have never heard that they have any
invention or sorcery to equal our wonderful
autodragons."

They thanked him for his courtesy and, mounting their
own animals, rode to the farther side of the city and
right through the Wall of Illusion out into the open
country.

"I'm glad we got away so easily," said' Betsy. "I
didn't like those queer-shaped people.'

"Nor did I," agreed Dorothy. "It seems dreadful to be
lined with sheets of pure gold and have nothing to eat
but thistles."

"They seemed happy and contented, though," remarked
the little Wizard, "and those who are contented have
nothing to regret and nothing more to wish for."




Chapter Six

Toto Loses Something


For a while  the travelers were constantly losing their
direction, for beyond the thistle fields they again
found themselves upon the turning-lands, which swung
them around in such a freakish manner that first they
were headed one way and then another. But by keeping
the City of Thi constantly behind them the adventurers
finally passed the treacherous turning-lands and came
upon a stony country where no grass grew at all. There
were plenty of bushes, however, and although it was now
almost dark the girls discovered some delicious yellow
berries growing upon the bushes, one taste of which set
them all to picking as many as they could find. The
berries relieved their pangs of hunger, for a time, and
as it now became too dark to see anything they camped
where they were.

The three girls lay down upon one of the blankets --
all in a row -- and then the Wizard covered them with
the other blanket and tucked them in. Button-Bright
crawled under the shelter of some bushes and was asleep
in half a minute. The Wizard sat down with his back to
a big stone and looked at the stars in the sky and
thought gravely upon the dangerous adventure they had
undertaken, wondering if they would ever be able to
find their beloved Ozma again. The animals lay in a
group by themselves, a little distance from the others.

"I've lost my growl!" said Toto, who had been very
silent and sober all that day. "What do you suppose has
become of it?"

"If you had asked me to keep track of your growl, I
might be able to tell you," remarked the Lion sleepily.
"But, frankly, Toto, I supposed you were taking care of
it yourself."

"It's an awful thing to lose one's growl," said Toto,
wagging his tail disconsolately. "What if you lost your
roar, Lion? Wouldn't you feel terrible?"

"My roar," replied the Lion, "is the fiercest thing
about me. I depend on it to frighten my enemies so
badly that they won't dare to fight me."

"Once," said the Mule, "I lost my bray, so that I
couldn't call to Betsy to let her know I was hungry.
That was before I could talk, you know, for I had not
yet come into the Land of Oz, and I found it was
certainly very uncomfortable not to be able to make a
noise."

"You make enough noise now," declared Toto. "But none
of you has answered my question: Where is my growl?"

"You may search me," said the Woozy. "I don't care
for such things myself."

"You snore terribly," asserted Toto.

"It may he," said the Woozy. "What one does when
asleep one is not accountable for. I wish you would
wake me up, some time when I'm snoring, and let me hear
the sound. Then I can judge whether it is terrible or
delightful."

"It isn't pleasant, I assure you," said the Lion,
yawning.

"To me it seems wholly unnecessary," declared Hank
the Mule.

"You ought to break yourself of the habit," said the
Sawhorse. "You never hear me snore, because I never
sleep. I don't even whinny, as those puffy meat horses
do. I wish that whoever stole Toto's growl had taken
the Mule's bray and the Lion's roar and the Woozy's
snore at the same time."

"Do you think, then, that my growl was stolen?"

"You have never lost it before, have you?" inquired
the Sawhorse.

"Only once, when I had a sore throat from barking too
long at the moon."

"Is your throat sore now?" asked the Woozy.

"No," replied the dog.

"I can't understand," said Hank, "why dogs bark at
the moon, They can't scare the moon, and the moon
doesn't pay any attention to the bark. So why do dogs
do it?"

"Were you ever a dog?" asked Toto.

"No, indeed," replied Hank. "I am thankful to say I
was created a mule -- the most beautiful of all beasts
-- and have always remained one."

The Woozy sat upon his square haunches to examine
Hank with care.

"Beauty," said he, "must be a matter of taste. I
don't say your judgment is bad, friend Hank, or that
you are so vulgar as to be conceited. But if you admire
big waggly ears, and a tail like a paint-brush, and
hoofs big enough for an elephant, and a long neck and a
body so skinny that one can count the ribs with one eye
shut -- if that's your idea of beauty, Hank -- then
either you or I must be much mistaken."

"You're full of edges," sneered the Mule. "If I were
square, as you are, I suppose you'd think me lovely."

"Outwardly, dear Hank, I would," replied the Woozy.
"But to be really lovely one must be beautiful without
and within."

The Mule couldn't deny this statement, so he gave a
disgusted grunt and rolled over so that his back was
toward the Woozy. But the Lion, regarding the two
calmly with his great yellow eyes, said to the dog:

"My dear Toto, our friends have taught us a lesson in
humility. If the Woozy and the Mule are indeed
beautiful creatures, as they seem to think, you and I
must be decidedly ugly."

"Not to ourselves," protested Toto, who was a shrewd
little dog. "You and I, Lion, are fine specimens of our
own races. I am a fine dog and you are a fine lion.
Only in point of comparison, one with another, can we
be properly judged, so I will leave it to the poor old
Sawhorse to decide which is the most beautiful animal
among us all. The Sawhorse is wood, so he won't be
prejudiced and will speak the truth."

"I surely will," responded the Sawhorse, wagging his
ears, which were chips set in his wooden head. "Are you
all agreed to accept my judgment?"

"We are!" they declared, each one hopeful.

"Then," said the Sawhorse, "I must point out to you
the fact that you are all meat creatures, who tire
unless they sleep, and starve unless they eat, and
suffer from thirst unless they drink. Such animals must
be very imperfect, and imperfect Creatures cannot be
beautiful. Now, I am made of wood."

"You surely have a wooden head," said the Mule.

"Yes, and a wooden body and wooden legs -- which are
as swift as the wind and as tireless. I've heard
Dorothy say that 'handsome is as handsome does,' and I
surely perform my duties in a handsome manner.
Therefore, if you wish my honest judgement, I will
confess that among us all I am the most beautiful."

The Mule snorted and the Woozy laughed; Toto had lost
his growl and could only look scornfully at the
Sawhorse, who stood in his place unmoved. But the Lion
stretched himself and yawned, saying quietly:

"Were we all like the Sawhorse we would all be
Sawhorses, which would be too many of the kind; were we
all like Hank, we would be a herd of mules; if like
Toto, we would be a pack of dogs; should we all become
the shape of the Woozy, he would no longer be
remarkable for his unusual appearance. Finally, were
you all like me, I would consider you so common that I
would not care to associate with you. To be individual,
my friends, to be different from others, is the only
way to become distinguished from the common herd. Let
us be glad, therefore, that we differ from one another
in form and in disposition. Variety is the spice of
life and we are various enough to enjoy one another's
society; so let us be content."

"There is some truth in that speech," remarked Toto
reflectively. "But how about my lost growl?"

"The growl is of importance only to you," responded
the Lion, "so it is your business to worry over the
loss, not ours. If you love us, do not inflict your
burdens on us; be unhappy all by yourself."

"If the same person stole my growl who stole Ozma,"
said the little dog, "I hope we shall find him very
soon and punish him as he deserves. He must be the most
cruel person in all the world, for to prevent a dog
from growling when it is his nature to growl is just as
wicked, in my opinion, as stealing all the magic in
Oz."




Chapter Eleven

Button-Bright Loses Himself


The Patchwork Girl, who never slept and who could see
very well in the dark, had wandered among the rocks and
bushes all night long, with the result that she was
able to tell some good news the next morning.

"Over the crest of the hill before us," she said, "is
a big grove of trees of many kinds, on which all sorts
of fruits grow. If you will go there you will find a
nice breakfast awaiting you."

This made them eager to start, so as soon as the
blankets were folded and strapped to the back of the
Sawhorse they all took their places on the animals and
set out for the big grove Scraps had told them of.

As soon as they got over the brow of the hill they
discovered it to be a really immense orchard, extending
for miles to the right and left of them. As their way
led straight through the trees they hurried forward as
fast as possible.

The first trees they came to bore quinces, which they
did not like. Then there were rows of citron trees and
then crab apples and after. ward limes and lemons. But
beyond these they found a grove of big golden oranges,
juicy and sweet, and the fruit hung low on the
branches, so they could pluck it easily.

They helped themselves freely and all ate oranges as
they continued on their way. Then, a little farther
along, they came to some trees bearing fine red apples,
which they also feasted on, and the Wizard stopped here
long enough to tie a lot of the apples in one end of a
blanket.

"We do not know what will happen to us after we leave
this delightful orchard," he said, "so I think it wise
to carry a supply of apples with us. We can't starve as
long as we have apples, you know."

Scraps wasn't riding the Woozy just now. She loved to
climb the trees and swing herself by the branches from
one tree to another. Some of the choicest fruit was
gathered by the Patchwork Girl from the very highest
limbs and tossed down to the others. Suddenly Trot
asked: "Where's Button-Bright?" and when the others
looked for him they found the boy had disappeared.

"Dear me!" cried Dorothy. "I guess he's lost again,
and that will mean our waiting here until we can find
him."

"It's a good place to wait," suggested Betsy, who had
found a plum tree and was eating some of its fruit.

"How can you wait here, and find Button-Bright, at
one and the same time?" inquired the Patchwork Girl,
hanging by her toes on a limb just over the heads of
the three mortal girls.

"Perhaps he'll come back here," answered Dorothy.

"If he tries that, he'll prob'ly lose his way, said
Trot. I've known him to do that, lots of times. It's
losing his way that gets him lost."

"Very true," said the Wizard. "So all the rest of you
must stay here while I go look for the boy."

"Won't you get lost, too?" asked Betsy.

"I hope not, my dear."

"Let me go," said Scraps, dropping lightly to the
ground. "I can't get lost, and I'm more likely to find
Button Bright than any of you."

Without waiting for permission she darted away
through the trees and soon disappeared from their view.

"Dorothy," said Toto, squatting beside his little
mistress, "I've lost my growl."

"How did that happen?" she asked.

"I don't know," replied Toto. "Yesterday morning the
Woozy nearly stepped on me and I tried to growl at him
and found I couldn't growl a bit."

"Can you bark?" inquired Dorothy.

"Oh, yes, indeed!"

"Then never mind the growl," said she.

"But what will I do when I get home to the Glass Cat
and the Pink Kitten?" asked the little dog in an
anxious voice.

"They won't mind, if you can't growl at them, I'm
sure," said Dorothy. "I'm sorry for you, of course,
Toto, for it's just those things we can t do that we
want to do most of all; but before we get back you may
find your growl again."

"Do you think the person who stole Ozma stole my
growl?"

Dorothy smiled.

"Perhaps, Toto."

"Then he's a scoundrel!" cried the little dog.

"Anyone who would steal Ozma is as bad as bad can
be," agreed Dorothy, "and when we remember that our
dear friend, the lovely Ruler of Oz, is lost, we ought
not to worry over just a growl."

Toto was not entirely satisfied with this remark, for
the more he thought upon his lost growl the more
important his misfortune he came. When no one was
looking he went away among the trees and tried his best
to growl -- even a little bit -- but could not manage
to do so. All he could do was bark, and a bark cannot
take the place of a growl, so he sadly returned to the
others.

Now, Button-Bright had no idea that he was lost, at
first. He had merely wandered from tree to tree,
seeking the finest fruit, until he discovered he was
alone in the great orchard. But that didn't worry him
just then and seeing some apricot trees farther on he
went to them; then he discovered some cherry trees;
just beyond these were some tangerines.

"We've found 'most ev'ry kind of fruit but peaches,"
he said to himself, "so I guess there are peaches here,
too, if I can find the trees."

He searched here and there, paying no attention to
his way, until he found that the trees surrounding him
bore only nuts. He put some walnuts in his pockets and
kept on searching and at last -- right among the nut
trees -- he came upon one solitary peach tree. It was a
graceful, beautiful tree, but although it was thickly
leaved it bore no fruit except one large, splendid
peach, rosy cheeked and fuzzy and just right to eat.

Button-Bright had some trouble getting that lonesome
peach, for it hung far out of reach; but he climbed the
tree nimbly and crept out on the branch on which it
grew and after several trials, during which he was in
danger of falling, he finally managed to pick it. Then
he got back to the ground and decided the fruit was
well worth his trouble. It was delightfully fragrant
and when he bit into it he found it the most delicious
morsel he had ever tasted.

"I really ought to divide it with Trot and Dorothy
and Betsy," he said; "but p'rhaps there are plenty more
in some other part of the orchard."

In his heart he doubted this statement, for this was
a solitary peach tree, while all the other fruits grew
upon many trees set close to one another; but that one
luscious bite made him unable to resist eating the rest
of it and soon the peach was all gone except the pit.
Button-Bright was about to throw this peach-pit away
when he noticed that it was of pure gold. gold. Of
course this surprised him, but so many things in the
Land of Oz were surprising that he did not give much
thought to the golden peach-pit. He put it in his
pocket, however, to show to the girls, and five minutes
afterward had forgotten all about it.

For now he realized that he was far separated from
his companions, and knowing that this would worry them
and delay their journey, he began to shout as loud as
he could. His voice did not penetrate very far among
all those trees, and after shouting a dozen times and
getting no answer he sat down on the ground and said:

"Well, I'm lost again. It's too bad, but I don't see
how it can be helped."

As he leaned his back against a tree he looked up and
saw a Bluefinch fly down from the sky and alight upon a
branch just before him. The bird looked and looked at
him. First it looked with one bright eye and then
turned its head and looked at him with the other eye.
Then, fluttering its wings a little, it said:

"Oho! so you've eaten the enchanted peach, have you?"

"Was it enchanted?" asked Button-Bright.

"Of course," replied the Bluefinch. "Ugu the
Shoemaker did that."

"But why? And how was it enchanted?. And what will
happen to one who eats it?" questioned the boy.

"Ask Ugu the Shoemaker; he knows," said the bird,
pruning its feathers with its bill.

"And who is Ugu the Shoemaker?"

"The one who enchanted the peach, and placed it here
-- in the exact center of the Great Orchard -- so no
one would ever find it. We birds didn't dare to