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The Lost Princess of Oz

by L. Frank Baum

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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 eat it;
we are too wise for that. But you are Button-Bright,
from the Emerald City, and you-you-YOU ate the
enchanted peach! You must explain to Ugu the Shoemaker
why you did that."

And then, before the boy could ask any more
questions, the bird flew away and left him alone.

Button-Bright was not much worried to find that the
peach he had eaten was enchanted. It certainly had
tasted very good and his stomach didn't ache a bit. So
again he began to reflect upon the best way to rejoin
his friends.

"Whichever direction I follow is likely to be the
wrong one," he said to himself, "so I'd better stay
just where I am and let them find me -- if they can."

A White Rabbit came hopping through the orchard and
paused a little way off to look at him.

"Don't be afraid," said Button-Bright; "I won't hurt
you."

"Oh, I'm not afraid for myself," returned the White
Rabbit. "It's you I'm worried about."

"Yes; I'm lost," said the boy.

"I fear you are, indeed," answered the Rabbit. "Why
on earth did you eat the enchanted peach?"

The boy looked at the excited little animal
thoughtfully.

"There were two reasons," he explained. "One reason
was that I like peaches, and the other reason was that
I didn't know it was enchanted."

"That won't save you from Ugu the Shoemaker,"
declared the White Rabbit and it scurried away before
the boy could ask any more questions.

"Rabbits and birds," he thought, "are timid creatures
and seem afraid of this shoemaker -- whoever he may be.
If there was another peach half as good as that other,
I'd eat it in spite of a dozen enchantments or a
hundred shoemakers!"

Just then Scraps came dancing along and saw him
sitting at the foot of the tree.

"Oh, here you are!" she said. "Up to your old tricks,
eh? Don't you know it's impolite to get lost and keep
everybody waiting for you? Come along, and I'll lead
you back to Dorothy and the others."

Button-Bright rose slowly to accompany her.

"That wasn't much of a loss," he said cheerfully. "I
haven't been gone half a day, so there's no harm done."

Dorothy, however, when the boy rejoined the party,
gave him a good scolding.

"When we're doing such an important thing as
searching for Ozma," said she, "it's naughty for you to
wander away, and keep us from getting on.  S'pose she's
a pris'ner -- in a dungeon cell! -- do you want to keep
our dear Ozma there any longer than we can help?"

"If she's in a dungeon cell, how are you going to get
her out?" inquired the boy.

"Never you mind; we'll leave that to the Wizard; he's
sure to find a way."

The Wizard said nothing, for he realized that without
his magic tools he could do no more than any other
person. But there was no use reminding his companions
of that fact; it might discourage them.

"The important thing just now," he remarked, "is to
find Ozma; and, as our party is again happily reunited,
I propose we move on."

As they came to the edge of the Great Orchard the sun
was setting and they knew it would soon be dark. So it
was decided to camp under the trees, as another broad
plain was before them. The Wizard spread the blankets
on a bed of soft leaves and presently all of them
except Scraps and the Sawhorse were fast asleep. Toto
snuggled close to his friend the Lion, and the Woozy
snored so loudly that the Patchwork Girl covered his
square head with her apron to deaden the sound.




Chapter Twelve

The Czarover of Herku


Trot wakened just as the sun rose and, slipping out of
the blankets, went to the edge of the Great Orchard and
looked across the plain. Something glittered in the far
distance.

"That looks like another city," she said half aloud.

"And another city it is," declared Scraps, who had
crept to Trot's side unheard, for her stuffed feet made
no sound. "The Sawhorse and I made a journey in the
dark, while you were all asleep, and we found over
there a bigger city than Thi. There's a wall around it,
too, but it has gates and plenty of pathways."

"Did you go in?" asked Trot.

"No, for the gates were locked and the wall was a
real wall. So we came back here again. It isn't far to
the city. We can reach it in two hours after you've had
your breakfasts."

Trot went back and, finding the other girls now
awake, told them what Scraps had said. So they
hurriedly ate some fruit -- there were plenty of plums
and fijoas in this part of the orchard -- and then they
mounted the animals and set out upon the journey to the
strange city. Hank the Mule had breakfasted on grass
and the Lion had stolen away and found a breakfast to
his liking; he never told what it was, but Dorothy
hoped the little rabbits and the field mice had kept
out of his way. She warned Toto not to chase birds and
gave the dog some apple, with which he was quite
content. The Woozy was as fond of fruit as of any other
food, except honey, and the Sawhorse never ate at all.

Except for their worry over Ozma they were all in
good spirits as they proceeded swiftly over the plain.
Toto still worried over his lost growl, but like a wise
little dog kept his worry to himself. Before long the
city grew nearer and they could examine it with
interest.

In outward appearance the place was more imposing
than Thi, and it was a square city, with a square,
four-sided wall around it and on each side was a square
gate of burnished copper. Everything about the city
looked solid and substantial; there were no banners
flying and the towers that rose above the city wall
seemed bare of any ornament whatever.

A path led from the fruit orchard directly to one of
the city gates, showing that the inhabitants preferred
fruit to thistles. Our friends followed this path to
the gate, which they found fast shut. But the Wizard
advanced and pounded upon it with his fist, saying in a
loud voice: "Open!"

At once there rose above the great wall a row
of immense heads, all of which looked down
at them as if to see who was intruding. The size

of these heads was astonishing and our friends at once
realized that they belonged to giants, who were
standing within the city. All had thick, bushy hair and
whiskers, on some the hair being white and on others
black or red or yellow, while the hair of a few was
just turning gray, showing that the giants were of all
ages. However fierce the heads might seem the eyes were
mild in expression, as if the creatures had been long
subdued, and their faces expressed patience rather than
ferocity.

"What's wanted?" asked one old giant, in a low,
grumbling voice.

"We are strangers and we wish to enter the city,"
replied the Wizard.

"Do you come in war or peace?" asked another.

"In peace, of course," retorted the Wizard, and he
added impatiently: "Do we look like an army of
conquest?"

"No," said the first giant who had spoken, "you look
like innocent tramps; but one never can tell by
appearances. Wait here until we report to our masters.
No one can enter here without the permission of Vig,
the Czarover."

"Who's that?" inquired Dorothy. But the heads had all
bobbed down and disappeared behind the wall, so there
was no answer.

They waited a long time before the gate rolled back
with a rumbling sound and a loud voice cried: "Enter!"
But they lost no time in taking advantage of the
invitation.

On either side of the broad street that led into the
city from the gate stood a row of huge giants -- twenty
of them on a side and all standing so close together
that their elbows touched. They wore uniforms of blue
and yellow and were armed with clubs as big around as
tree-trunks. Each giant had around his neck a broad
band of gold, riveted on, to show he was a slave.

As our friends entered, riding upon the Lion, the
Woozy, the Sawhorse and the Mule, the giants half
turned and walked in two files on either side of them,
as if escorting them on their way. It looked to Dorothy
as if all her party had been made prisoners, for even
mounted on their animals their heads scarcely reached
to the knees of the marching giants. The girls and
Button-Bright were anxious to know what sort of a city
they had entered, and what the people were like who had
made these powerful creatures their slaves. Through the
legs of the giants, as they walked, Dorothy could see
rows of houses on each side the street and throngs of
people standing on the sidewalks; but the people were
of ordinary size and the only remarkable thing about
them was the fact that they were dreadfully lean and
thin. Between their skin and their bones there seemed
to be little or no flesh, and they were mostly stoop-
shouldered and weary looking, even to the little
children.

More and more Dorothy wondered how and why the great
giants had ever submitted to be come slaves of such
skinny, languid masters, but there was no chance to
question anyone until they arrived at a big palace
located in the heart of the city. Here the giants
formed lines to the entrance and stood still while our
friends rode into the courtyard of the palace. Then the
gates closed behind them and before them was a skinny
little man who bowed low and said in a sad voice:

"If you will be so obliging as to dismount, it will
give me pleasure to lead you into the presence of the
World's Most Mighty Ruler, Vig the Czarover."

"I don't believe it!" said Dorothy indignantly.

"What don't you believe?" asked the man.

"I don't believe your Czarover can hold a candle to
our Ozma."

"He wouldn't hold a candle under any circumstances,
or to any living person," replied the man very
seriously, "for he has slaves to do such things and the
Mighty Vig is too dignified to do anything that others
can do for him. He even obliges a slave to sneeze for
him, if ever he catches cold. However, if you dare to
face our powerful ruler, follow me."

"We dare anything," said the Wizard, "so go ahead."

Through several marble corridors having lofty
ceilings they passed, finding each corridor and doorway
guarded by servants; but these servants of the palace
were of the people and not giants, and they were so
thin that they almost resembled skeletons. Finally they
entered a great circular room with a high domed ceiling
where the Czarover sat on a throne cut from a solid
block of white marble and decorated with purple silk
hangings and gold tassels.

The ruler of these people was combing his eyebrows
when our friends entered his throneroom and stood
before him, but he put the comb in his pocket and
examined the strangers with evident curiosity. Then he
said:

"Dear me, what a surprise! You have really shocked
me. For no outsider has ever before come to our City of
Herku, and I cannot imagine why you have ventured to do
so."

"We are looking for Ozma, the Supreme Ruler of the
Land of Oz," replied the Wizard.

"Do you see her anywhere around here?" asked the
Czarover.

"Not yet, Your Majesty; but perhaps you may tell us
where she is."

"No; I have my hands full keeping track of my own
people. I find them hard to manage because they are so
tremendously strong."

"They don't look very strong," said Dorothy. "It
seems as if a good wind would blow em way out of the
city, if it wasn't for the wall."

"Just so -- just so," admitted the Czarover. "They
really look that way, don't they? But you must never
trust to appearances, which have a way of fooling one.
Perhaps you noticed that I prevented you from meeting
any of my people. I protected you with my giants while
you were on the way from the gates to my palace, so
that not a Herku got near you."

"Are your people so dangerous, then?" asked the
Wizard.

"To strangers, yes; but only because they are so
friendly. For, if they shake hands with you, they are
likely to break your arms or crush your fingers to a
jelly."

"Why?" asked Button-Bright.

"Because we are the strongest people in all the
world."

"Pshaw!" exclaimed the boy, "that's bragging. You
prob'ly don't know how strong other people are. Why,
once I knew a man in Philadelphi' who could bend iron
bars with just his hands!"

"But-mercy me!-it's no trick to bend iron bars," said
His Majesty. "Tell me, could this man crush a block of
stone with his bare hands?"

"No one could do that," declared the boy.

"If I had a block of stone I'd show you," said the
Czarover, looking around the room. "Ah, here is my
throne. The back is too high, anyhow, so I'll just
break off a piece of that."

He rose to his feet and tottered in an uncertain way
around the throne. Then he took hold of the back and
broke off a piece of marble over a foot thick.

"This," said he, coming back to his seat, is very
solid marble and much harder than ordinary stone. Yet I
can crumble it easily with my fingers -- a proof that I
am very strong."

Even as he spoke he began breaking off chunks of
marble and crumbling them as one would a bit of earth.
The Wizard was so astonished that he took a piece in
his own hands and tested it, finding it very hard
indeed.

Just then one of the giant servants entered and
exclaimed:

"Oh, Your Majesty, the cook has burned the soup! What
shall we do?"

"How dare you interrupt me?" asked the Czarover, and
grasping the immense giant by one of his legs he raised
him in the air and threw him headfirst out of an open
window.

"Now, tell me," he said, turning to Button-Bright,
"could your man in Philadelphia crumble marble in his
fingers?"

"I guess not," said Button-Bright, much impressed by
the skinny monarch's strength.

"What makes you so strong?" inquired Dorothy.

"It's the zosozo," he explained, "which is an
invention of my own. I and all my people eat zosozo,
and it gives us tremendous strength. Would you like to
eat some?"

"No, thank you," replied the girl. "I -- I don't want
to get so thin."

"Well, of course one can't have strength and flesh at
the same time," said the Czarover. "Zosozo is pure
energy, and it's the only compound of its sort in
existence. I never allow our giants to have it, you
know, or they would soon become our masters, since they
are bigger than we; so I keep all the stuff locked up
in my private laboratory. Once a year I feed a
teaspoonful of it to each of my people -- men, women
and children -- so every one of them is nearly as
strong as I am. Wouldn't you like a dose, sir?" he
asked, turning to the Wizard.

"Well," said the Wizard, "if you would give me a
little zosozo in a bottle, I'd like to take it with me
on my travels. It might come handy, on occasion."

"To be sure. I'll give you enough for six doses,"
promised the Czarover. "But don't take more than a
teaspoonful at a time. Once Ugu the Shoemaker took two
teaspoonsful, and it made him so strong that when he
leaned against the city wall he pushed it over, and we
had to build it up again."

"Who is Ugu the Shoemaker?" asked Button-Bright
curiously, for he now remembered that the bird and the
rabbit had claimed Ugu the Shoemaker had enchanted the
peach he had eaten.

"Why, Ugu is a great magician, who used to live here.
But he's gone away, now," replied the Czarover.

"Where has he gone?" asked the Wizard quickly.

"I am told he lives in a wickerwork castle in the
mountains to the west of here. You see, Ugu became such
a powerful magician that he didn't care to live in our
city any longer, for fear we would discover some of his
secrets. So he went to the mountains and built him a
splendid wicker castle, which is so strong that even I
and my people could not batter it down, and there he
lives all by himself."

"This is good news," declared the Wizard, "for I
think this is just the magician we are searching for.
But why is he called Ugu the Shoemaker?"

"Once he was a very common citizen here and made
shoes for a living," replied the monarch of Herku. "But
he was descended from the greatest wizard and sorcerer
who has ever lived -- in this or in any other country -
- and one day Ugu the Shoemaker discovered all the
magical books and recipes of his famous great-grand-
father, which had been hidden away in the attic of his
house. So he began to study the papers and books and to
practice magic, and in time he became so skillful that,
as I said, he scorned our city and built a solitary
castle for himself."

"Do you think," asked Dorothy anxiously, "that Ugu
the Shoemaker would he wicked enough to steal our Ozma
of Oz?"

"And the Magic Picture?" asked Trot.

"And the Great Book of Records of Glinda the Good?"
asked Betsy.

"And my own magic tools?" asked the Wizard.

"Well," replied Czarover, "I won't say that Ugu is
wicked, exactly, but he is very ambitious to become the
most powerful magician in the world, and so I suppose
he would not be too proud to steal any magic things
that belonged to anybody else -- if he could manage to
do so."

"But how about Ozma? Why would he wish to steal her?"
questioned Dorothy.

"Don't ask me, my dear. Ugu doesn't tell me why he
does things, I assure you."

"Then we must go and ask him ourselves," declared the
little girl.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," advised the
Czarover, looking first at the three girls and then at
the boy and the little Wizard and finally at the
stuffed Patchwork Girl. "If Ugu has really stolen your
Ozma, he will probably keep her a prisoner, in spite of
all your threats or entreaties. And, with all his
magical knowledge, he would be a dangerous person to
attack. Therefore, if you are wise, you will go home
again and find a new Ruler for the Emerald City and the
Land of Oz. But perhaps it isn't Ugu the Shoemaker who
has stolen your Ozma."

"The only way to settle that question," replied the
Wizard, "is to go to Ugu's castle and see if Ozma is
there. If she is, we will report the matter to the
great Sorceress, Glinda the Good, and I'm pretty sure
she will find a way to rescue our darling ruler from
the Shoemaker."

"Well, do as you please," said the Czarover. "But, if
you are all transformed into hummingbirds or
caterpillars, don't blame me for not warning you."

They stayed the rest of that day in the City of Herku
and were fed at the royal table of the Czarover and
given sleeping rooms in his palace. The strong monarch
treated them very nicely and gave the Wizard a little
golden vial of zosozo, to use if ever he or any of his
party wished to acquire great strength.

Even at the last the Czarover tried to. persuade them
not to go near Ugu the Shoemaker, but they were
resolved on the venture and the next morning bade the
friendly monarch a cordial good-bye and, mounting upon
their animals, left the Herkus and the City of Herku
and headed for the mountains that lay to the west.




Chapter Thirteen

The Truth Pond


It seems a long time since we have heard anything of
the Frogman and Cayke the Cookie Cook, who had left the
Yip Country in search of the diamond-studded gold
dishpan which had been mysteriously stolen the same
night that Ozma had disappeared from the Emerald City.
But you must remember that while the Frogman and the
Cookie Cook were preparing to descend from their
mountain-top, and even while on their way to the
farmhouse of Wiljon the Winkie, Dorothy and the Wizard
and their friends were encountering the adventures we
have just related.

So it was that on the very morning when the travelers
from the Emerald City bade farewell to the Czarover of
the City of Herku, Cayke and the Frogman awoke in a
grove in which they had passed the night sleeping on
beds of leaves. There were plenty of farmhouses in the
neighborhood, but no one seemed to welcome the puffy,
haughty Frogman or the little dried-up Cookie Cook, and
so they slept comfortably enough underneath the trees
of the grove.

The Frogman wakened first, on this morning, and after
going to the tree where Cayke slept and finding her
still wrapt in slumber, he decided to take a little
walk and seek some breakfast. Coming to the edge of the
grove he observed, half a mile away, a pretty yellow
house that was surrounded by a yellow picket fence, so
he walked toward this house and on entering the yard
found a Winkie woman picking up sticks with which to
build a fire to cook her morning meal.

"For goodness sakes!" she exclaimed on seeing the
Frogman, "what are you doing out of your frogpond?"

"I am traveling in search of a jeweled gold dishpan,
my good woman," he replied, with an air of great
dignity.

"You won't find it here, then," said she. "Our
dishpans are tin, and they're good enough for anybody.
So go back to your pond and leave me alone."

She spoke rather crossly and with a lack of respect
that greatly annoyed the Frogman.

"Allow me to tell you, madam," he said, "that
although I am a frog I am the Greatest and Wisest Frog
in all the world. I may add that I possess much more
wisdom than any Winkie -- man or woman -- in this land.
Wherever I go, people fall on their knees before me and
render homage to the Great Frogman! No one else knows
so much as I; no one else is so grand -- so
magnificent!"

"If you know so much," she retorted, "why don't you
know where your dishpan is, instead of chasing around
the country after it?"

"Presently," he answered, "I am going where it is;
but just now I am traveling and have had no breakfast.
Therefore I honor you by asking you for something to
eat."

"Oho! the Great Frogman is hungry as any tramp, is
he? Then pick up these sticks and help me to build the
fire," said the woman contemptuously.

"Me! The Great Frogman pick up sticks?" he exclaimed
in horror. "In the Yip Country, where I am more honored
and powerful than any King could be, people weep with
joy when I ask them to feed. me."

"Then that's the place to go for your breakfast,"
declared the woman.

"I fear you do not realize my importance," urged the
Frogman. "Exceeding wisdom renders me superior to
menial duties."

"It's a great wonder to me," remarked the woman,
carrying her sticks to the house, "that your wisdom
doesn't inform you that you'll get no breakfast here,"
and she went in and slammed the door behind her.

The Frogman felt he had been insulted, so he gave a
loud croak of indignation and turned away. After going
a short distance he came upon a faint path which led
across a meadow in the direction of a grove of pretty
trees, and thinking this circle of evergreens must
surround a house -- where perhaps he would be kindly
received -- he decided to follow the path. And by and
by he came to the trees, which were set close together,
and pushing aside some branches he found no house
inside the circle, but instead a very beautiful pond of
clear water.

Now the Frogman, although he was so big and so well
educated and now aped the ways and customs of human
beings, was still a frog. As he gazed at this solitary,
deserted pond, his love for water returned to him with
irresistible force.

"If I cannot get a breakfast I may at least have a
fine swim," said he, and pushing his way between the
trees he reached the bank. There he took off his fine
clothing, laying his shiny purple hat and his gold-
headed cane beside it. A moment later he sprang with
one leap into the water and dived to the very bottom of
the pond. The water was deliciously cool and grateful
to his thick, rough skin, and the Frogman swam around
the pond several times before he stopped to rest. Then
he floated upon the surface and examined the pond with
some curiosity. The bottom and sides were all lined
with glossy tiles of a light pink color; just one place
in the bottom, where the water bubbled up from a hidden
spring, had been left free. On the banks the green
grass grew to the edge of the pink tiling.

And now, as the Frogman examined the place, he found
that on one side the pool, just above the water line,
had been set a golden plate on which some words were
deeply engraved. He swam toward this plate and on
reaching it read the following inscription:


      This is
   THE TRUTH POND
Whoever bathes in this
  water must always
   afterward tell
     THE TRUTH


This statement startled the Frogman. It even worried
him, so that he leaped upon the bank and hurriedly
began to dress himself.

"A great misfortune has befallen me," he told
himself, "for hereafter I cannot tell people I am wise,
since it is not the truth. The truth is that my boasted
wisdom is all a sham, assumed by me to deceive people
and make them defer to me. In truth, no living creature
can know much more than his fellows, for one may know
one thing, and another know another thing, so that
wisdom is evenly scattered throughout the world. But --
ah, me! -- what a terrible fate will now be mine. Even
Cayke the Cookie Cook will soon discover that my
knowledge is no greater than her own; for having bathed
in the enchanted water of the Truth Pond, I can no
longer deceive her or tell a lie."

More humbled than he had been for many years, the
Frogman went back to the grove where he had left Cayke
and found the woman now awake and washing her face in a
tiny brook.

"Where has Your Honor been?" she asked.

"To a farmhouse to ask for something to eat," said
he, "but the woman refused me."

"How dreadful!" she exclaimed. "But never mind; there
are other houses, where the people will be glad to feed
the Wisest Creature in all the World."

"Do you mean yourself?" he asked.

"No, I mean you."

The Frogman felt strongly impelled to tell the truth,
but struggled hard against it. His reason told him
there was no use in letting Cayke know he was not wise,
for then she would lose much respect for him, but each
time he opened his mouth to speak he realized he was
about to tell the truth and shut it again as quickly as
possible. He tried to talk about something else, but
the words necessary to undeceive the woman would force
themselves to his lips in spite of all his struggles.
Finally, knowing that he must either remain dumb or let
the truth prevail, he gave a low groan of despair and
said:

"Cayke, I am not the Wisest Creature in all the
World; I am not wise at all."

"Oh, you must be!" she protested. "You told me so
yourself, only last evening."

"Then last evening I failed to tell you the truth,"
he admitted, looking very shamefaced, for a frog. "I am
sorry I told you that lie, my good Cayke; but, if you
must know the truth, the whole truth and nothing but
the truth, I am not really as wise as you are."

The Cookie Cook was greatly shocked to hear this, for
it shattered one of her most pleasing illusions. She
looked at the gorgeously dressed Frogman in amazement.

"What has caused you to change your mind so
suddenly?" she inquired.

"I have bathed in the Truth Pond," he said, "and
whoever bathes in that water is ever afterward obliged
to tell the truth."

"You were foolish to do that," declared the woman.
"It is often very embarrassing to tell the truth. I'm
glad I didn't bathe in that dreadful water!"

The  Frogman looked at his companion thoughtfully.

"Cayke," said he, "I want you to go to the Truth Pond
and take a bath in its water. For, if we are to travel
together and encounter unknown adventures, it would not
be fair that I alone must always tell you the truth,
while you could tell me whatever you pleased. If we
both dip in the enchanted water there will be no chance
in the future of our deceiving one another."

"No," she asserted, shaking her head positively, "I
won't do it, Your Honor. For, if I told you the truth,
I'm sure you wouldn't like me. No Truth Pond for me.
I'll be just as I am, an honest woman who can say what
she wants to without hurting anyone's feelings."

With this decision the Frogman was forced to
be content, although he was sorry the Cookie
Cook would not listen to his advice.




Chapter Fourteen

The Unhappy Ferryman


Leaving the grove where they had slept, the Frogman and
the Cookie Cook turned to the east to seek another
house and after a short walk came to one where the
people received them very politely. The children stared
rather hard at the big, pompous Frogman, but the woman
of the house, when Cayke asked for something to eat, at
once brought them food and said they were welcome to
it.

"Few people in need of help pass this way," she
remarked, "for the Winkies are all prosperous and love
to stay in their own homes. But perhaps you are not a
Winkie," she added.

"No," said Cayke, "I am a Yip, and my home is on a
high mountain at the southeast of your country.

"And the Frogman -- is he, also, a Yip?"

"I do not know what he is, other than a very
remarkable and highly educated creature," replied the
Cookie Cook. "But he has lived many years among the
Yips, who have found him so wise and intelligent that
they always go to him for advice."

"May I ask why you have left your home, and where you
are going?" said the Winkie woman.

Then Cayke told her of the diamond-studded gold
dishpan and how it had been mysteriously stolen from
her house, after which she had discovered that she
could no longer cook good cookies. So she had resolved
to search until she found her dishpan again, because a
Cookie Cook who cannot cook good cookies is not of much
use. The Frogman, who wanted to see more of the world,
had accompanied her to assist in the search. When the
woman had listened to this story she asked.

"Then you have no idea, as yet, who has stolen your
dishpan?"

"I only know it must have been some mischievous
fairy, or a magician, or some such powerful person,
because none other could have climbed the steep
mountain to the Yip Country. And who else could have
carried away my beautiful, magic dishpan without being
seen?"

The woman thought about this during the time that
Cayke and the Frogman ate their breakfast. When they
had finished she said:

"Where are you going next?"

"We have not decided," answered the Cookie Cook.

"Our plan," explained the Frogman, in his important
way, "is to travel from place to place until we learn
where the thief is located, and then to force him to
return the dishpan to its proper owner."

"The plan is all right," agreed the woman, "but it
may take you a long time before you succeed, your
method being sort of haphazard and indefinite. However,
I advise you to travel toward the east."

"Why?" asked the Frogman.

"Because if you went west you would soon come to the
desert, and also because in this part of the Winkie
Country no one steals, so your time here would be
wasted. But toward the east, beyond the river, live
many strange people whose honesty I would not vouch
for. Moreover, if you journey far enough east and cross
the river for a second time, you will come to the
Emerald City, where there is much magic and sorcery.
The Emerald City is ruled by a dear little girl called
Ozma, who also rules the Emperor of the Winkies and all
the Land of Oz. So, as Ozma is a fairy, she may be able
to tell you just who has taken your precious dishpan.
Provided, of course, you do not find it before you
reach her."

"This seems to me to be excellent advice," said the
Frogman, and Cayke agreed with him.

"The most sensible thing for you to do," continued
the woman, "would be to return to your home and use
another dishpan; learning to cook cookies as other
people cook cookies, without the aid of magic. But, if
you cannot be happy without the magic dishpan you have
lost, you are likely to learn more about it in the
Emerald City than at any other place in Oz."

They thanked the good woman and on leaving her house
faced the east and continued in that direction all the
way. Toward evening they came to the west branch of the
Winkie River and there, on the river bank, found a
ferryman who lived all alone in a little yellow house.

This ferryman was a Winkie with a very small head and
a very large body. He was sitting in his doorway as the
travelers approached him and did not even turn his head
to look at them.

"Good evening," said the Frogman.

The ferryman made no reply.

"We would like some supper and the privilege of
sleeping in your house until morning," continued the
Frogman. "At daybreak we would like some breakfast and
then we would like to have you row us across the
river."

The ferryman neither moved nor spoke. He sat in his
doorway and looked straight ahead.

"I think he must be deaf and dumb," Cayke whispered
to her companion. Then she stood directly in front of
the ferryman and putting her mouth close to his ear she
yelled as loudly as she could:

"Good evening!"

The ferryman scowled.

"Why do you yell at me, woman?" he asked.

"Can you hear what I say?" she asked in her ordinary
tone of voice.

"Of course," replied the man.

"Then why didn't you answer the Frogman?"

"Because," said the ferryman, "I don't understand the
frog language.

"He speaks the same words that I do and in the same
way," declared Cayke.

"Perhaps," replied the ferryman; "but to me his voice
sounded like a frog's croak. I know that in the Land of
Oz animals can speak our language, and so can the
birds and bugs and fishes; but in my ears they sound
merely like growls and chirps and croaks."

"Why is that?" asked the Cookie Cook in surprise.

"Once, many years ago, I cut the tail off a fox which
had taunted me; and I stole some birds eggs from a nest
to make an omelet with, and also I pulled a fish from
the river and left it lying on the bank to gasp for
lack of water until it died. I don't know why I did
those wicked things, but I did them. So the Emperor of
the Winkies -- who is the Tin Woodman and has a very
tender tin heart -- punished me by denying me any
communication with beasts, birds or fishes. I cannot
understand them when they speak to me, although I know
that other people can do so, nor can the creatures
understand a word I say to them. Every time I meet one
of them I am reminded of my former cruelty, and it
makes me very unhappy."

"Really," said Cayke, "I'm sorry for you, although
the Tin Woodman is not to blame for punishing you."

"What is he mumbling about?" asked the Frogman.

"He is talking to me, but you don't understand him,"
she replied. And then she told him of the ferryman's
punishment and afterward explained to the ferryman that
they wanted to stay all night with him and be fed.

He gave them some fruit and bread, which was the only
sort of food he had, and he allowed Cayke to sleep in a
room of his cottage. But the Frogman he refused to
admit to his house, saying that the frog's presence
made him miserable and unhappy. At no time would he
look directly at the Frogman, or even toward him,
fearing he would shed tears if he did so; so the big
frog slept on the river bank, where he could hear
little frogs croaking in the river all the night
through. But that did not keep him awake; it merely
soothed him to slumber, for he realized how much
superior he was to them.

Just as the sun was rising on a new day the ferryman
rowed the two travelers across the river -- keeping his
back to the Frogman all the way -- and then Cayke
thanked him and bade him good-bye and the ferryman
rowed home again.

On this side the river there were no paths at all, so
it was evident they had reached a part of the country
little frequented by travelers. There was a marsh at
the south of them, sandhills at the north and a growth
of scrubby underbrush leading toward a forest at the
east. So the east was really the least difficult way to
go and that direction was the one they had determined
to follow.

Now the Frogman, although he wore green patent-
leather shoes with ruby buttons, had very large and
flat feet, and when he tramped through the scrub his
weight crushed down the underbrush and made a path for
Cayke to follow him. Therefore they soon reached the
forest, where the tall trees were set far apart but
were so leafy that they shaded all the spaces between
them with their branches.

"There are no bushes here," said Cayke, much pleased,
"so we can now travel faster and with more comfort."




Chapter Fifteen

The Big Lavender Bear


It was a pleasant place to wander in and the two
travelers were proceeding at a brisk pace when suddenly
a voice shouted:

"Halt!"

They looked around in surprise, seeing at first no
one at all. Then from behind a tree there stepped a
brown fuzzy bear, whose head came about as high as
Cayke's waist -- and Cayke was a small woman. The bear
was chubby as well as fuzzy; his body was even puffy,
while his legs and arms seemed jointed at the knees and
elbows and fastened to his body by pins or rivets. His
ears were round in shape and stuck out in a comical
way, while his round black eyes were bright and
sparkling as heads. Over his shoulder the little brown
bear bore a gun with a tin barrel. The barrel had a
cork in the end of it and a string was attached to the
cork and to the handle of the gun.

Both the Frogman and Cayke gazed hard at this curious
bear, standing silent for some time. But finally the
Frogman recovered from his surprise and remarked:

"It seems to me that you are stuffed with sawdust and
ought not to be alive."

"That's all you know about it," answered the little
Brown Bear in a squeaky voice. "I am stuffed with a
very good quality of curled hair and my skin is the
best plush that was ever made. As for my being alive,
that is my own affair and cannot concern you at all
except that it gives me the privilege to say you are my
prisoners."

"Prisoners! Why do you speak such nonsense?" asked
the Frogman angrily. "Do you think we are afraid of a
toy bear with a toy gun?"

"You ought to be," was the confident reply, "for I am
merely the sentry guarding the way to Bear Center,
which is a city containing hundreds of my race, who are
ruled by a very powerful sorcerer known as the Lavender
Bear. He ought to be a purple color, you know, seeing
he is a King, but he's only light lavender, which is,
of course, second cousin to royal purple. So, unless
you come with me peaceably, as my prisoners, I shall
fire my gun and bring a hundred bears -- of all sizes
and colors -- to capture you."

"Why do you wish to capture us?" inquired the
Frogman, who had listened to this speech with much
astonishment.

"I don't wish to, as a matter of fact," replied the
little Brown Bear, "but it is my duty to, because you
are now trespassing on the domain of His Majesty the
King of Bear Center. Also I will admit that things are
rather quiet in our city, just now, and the excitement
of your capture, followed by your trial and execution,
should afford us much entertainment."

"We defy you!" said the Frogman.

"Oh, no; don't do that," pleaded Cayke, speaking to
her companion. "He says his King is a sorcerer, so
perhaps it is he or one of his bears who ventured to
steal my jeweled dishpan. Let us go to the City of the
Bears and discover if my dishpan is there."

"I must now register one more charge against you,"
remarked the little Brown Bear, with evident
satisfaction. "You have just accused us of stealing,
and that is such a dreadful thing to say that I am
quite sure our noble King will command you to be
executed."

"But how could you execute us?" inquired the Cookie
Cook.

"I've no idea. But our King is a wonderful inventor
and there is no doubt he can find a proper way to
destroy you. So, tell me, are you going to struggle, or
will you go peaceably to meet your doom?"

It was all so ridiculous that Cayke laughed aloud and
even the Frogman's wide mouth curled in a smile.
Neither was a bit afraid to go to the Bear City and it
seemed to both that there was a possibility they might
discover the missing dishpan. So the Frogman said:

"Lead the way, little Bear, and we will follow
without a struggle."

"That's very sensible of you; very sensible, indeed!"
declared the Brown Bear. "So -- forward march!" and
with the command he turned around and began to waddle
along a path that led between the trees.

Cayke and the Frogman, as they followed their
conductor, could scarce forbear laughing at his stiff,
awkward manner of walking and, although he moved his
stuffy legs fast, his steps were so short that they had
to go slowly in order not to run into him. But after a
time they reached a large, circular space in the center
of the forest, which was clear of any stumps or
underbrush. The ground was covered by a soft gray moss,
pleasant to tread upon. All the trees surrounding this
space seemed to be hollow and had round holes in their
trunks, set a little way above the ground, but
otherwise there was nothing unusual about the place and
nothing in the opinion of the prisoners, to indicate a
settlement. But the little Brown Bear said in a proud
and impressive voice (although it still squeaked):

"This is the wonderful city known to fame as Bear
Center!"

"But there are no houses; there are no bears living
here at all!" exclaimed Cayke.

"Oh, indeed!" retorted their captor and raising his
gun he pulled the trigger. The cork flew out of the tin
barrel with a loud "pop!" and at once from every hole
in ever tree within view of the clearing appeared the
head of a bear. They were of many colors and of many
sizes, but all were made in the same manner as the bear
who had met and captured them.

At first a chorus of growls arose and then a sharp
voice cried:

"What has happened, Corporal Waddle?"

"Captives, Your Majesty!" answered  the Brown Bear.
"Intruders upon our domain and slanderers of our good
name."

"Ah, that's important," answered the voice.

Then from out the hollow trees tumbled a whole
regiment of stuffed bears, some carrying tin swords,
some popguns and other long spears with gay ribbons
tied to the handles. There were hundreds of them,
altogether, and they quickly formed a circle around the
Frogman and the Cookie Cook but kept at a distance and
left a large space for the prisoners to stand in.

Presently this circle parted and into the center of
it stalked a huge toy bear of a lovely lavender color.
He walked upon his hind legs, as did all the others,
and on his head he wore a tin crown set with diamonds
and amethysts, while in one paw he carried a short wand
of some, glimmering metal that resembled silver but
wasn't.

"His Majesty the King!" shouted Corporal Waddle, and
all the bears bowed low. Some bowed so low that they
lost their balance and toppled over, but they soon
scrambled up again and the Lavender King squatted on
his haunches before the prisoners and gazed at them
steadily with his bright pink eyes.




Chapter Sixteen

The Little Pink Bear


"One Person and one Freak," said the big Lavender Bear,
when he had carefully examined the strangers.

"I am sorry to hear you call poor Cayke the Cookie
Cook a Freak," remonstrated the Frogman.

"She is the Person," asserted the King. "Unless I am
mistaken, it is you who are the Freak."

The Frogman was silent, for he could not truthfully
deny it.

"Why have you dared intrude in my forest?" demanded
the Bear King.

"We didn't know it was your forest," said Cayke, "and
we are on our way to the far east, where the Emerald
City is."

"Ah, it's a long way from here to the Emerald City,"
remarked the King. "It is so far away, indeed, that no
bear among us has ever been there. But what errand
requires you to travel such a distance?"

"Someone has stolen my diamond-studded gold dishpan,"
explained Cayke; "and, as I cannot be happy without it,
I have decided to search the world over until I find it
again. The Frogman, who is very learned and wonderfully
wise, has come with me to give me his assistance. Isn't
it kind of him?"

The King looked at the Frogman.

"What makes you so wonderfully wise?" he asked.

"I'm not," was the candid reply. "The Cookie Cook,
and some others in the Yip Country, think because I am
a big frog and talk and act like a man, that I must be
very wise. I have learned more than a frog usually
knows, it is true, but I am not yet so wise as I hope
to become at some future time."

The King nodded, and when he did so something
squeaked in his chest.

"Did Your Majesty speak?" asked Cayke.

"Not just then," answered the Lavender Bear, seeming
to be somewhat embarrassed. "I am so built, you must
know, that when anything pushes against my chest, as my
chin accidentally did just then, I make that silly
noise. In this city it isn't considered good manners to
notice it. But I like your Frogman. He is honest and
truthful, which is more than can be said of many
others. As for your late lamented dishpan, I'll show it
to you.

With this he waved three times the metal wand which
he held in his paw and instantly there appeared upon
the ground, midway between the King and Cayke, a big
round pan made of beaten gold. Around the top edge was
a row of small diamonds; around the center of the pan
was another row of larger diamonds; and at the bottom
was a row of exceedingly large and brilliant diamonds.
In fact, they all sparkled magnificently and the pan
was so big and broad that it took a lot of diamonds to
go around it three times.

Cayke stared so hard that her eyes seemed about to
pop out of her head.

"O-o-oh!" she exclaimed, drawing a deep breath of
delight.

"Is this your dishpan?" inquired the King.

"It is -- it is!" cried the Cookie Cook, and rushing
forward she fell on her knees and threw her arms around
the precious pan. But her arms came together without
meeting any resistance at all. Cayke tried to seize the
edge, but found nothing to grasp. The pan was surely
there, she thought, for she could see it plainly; but
it was not solid; she could not feel it at all. With a
moan of astonishment and despair she raised her head to
look at the Bear King, who was watching her actions
curiously. Then she turned to the pan again, only to
find it had completely disappeared.

"Poor creature!" murmured the King pityingly. "You
must have thought, for the moment, that you had
actually recovered your dishpan. But what you saw was
merely the image of it, conjured up by means of my
magic. It is a pretty dishpan, indeed, though rather
big and awkward to handle. I hope you will some day
find it."

Cayke was grievously disappointed. She began to cry,
wiping her eyes on her apron. The King turned to the
throng of toy bears surrounding him and asked:

"Has any of you ever seen this golden dishpan
before?"

"No," they answered in a chorus.

The King seemed to reflect. Presently he inquired:

"Where is the Little Pink Bear?"

"At home, Your Majesty," was the reply.

"Fetch him here," commanded the King.

Several of the bears waddled over to one of the trees
and pulled from its hollow a tiny pink bear, smaller
than any of the others. A big white bear carried the
pink one in his arms and set it down beside the King,
arranging the joints of its legs so that it would stand
upright.

This Pink Bear seemed lifeless until the King turned
a crank which protruded from its side, when the little
creature turned its head stiffly from side to side and
said in a small shrill voice:

"Hurrah for the King of Bear Center!"

"Very good," said the big Lavender Bear; "he seems to
be working very well today. Tell me, my Pink Pinkerton,
what has become of this lady's jeweled dishpan?"

"U-u-u," said the Pink Bear, and then stopped short.

The King turned the crank again.

"U-g-u the Shoemaker has it," said the Pink Bear.

"Who is Ugu the Shoemaker?" demanded the King, again
turning the crank.

"A magician who lives on a mountain in a wickerwork
castle," was the reply.

"Where is this mountain?" was the next question.

"Nineteen miles and three furlongs from Bear Center
to the northeast."

"And is the dishpan still at the castle of Ugu the
Shoemaker?" asked the King.

"It is."

The King turned to Cayke.

"You may rely on this information," said he. "The
Pink Bear can tell us anything we wish to know, and his
words are always words of truth."

"Is he alive?" asked the Frogman, much interested in
the Pink Bear.

"Something animates him -- when you turn his crank,"
replied the King. "I do not know if it is life, or what
it is, or how it happens that the Little Pink Bear can
answer correctly every question put to him. We
discovered his talent a long time ago and whenever we
wish to know anything -- which is not very often -- we
ask the Pink Bear. There is no doubt whatever, madam,
that Ugu the Magician has your dishpan, and if you dare
go to him you may be able to recover it. But of that I
am not certain."

"Can't the Pink Bear tell?" asked Cayke anxiously.

"No, for that is in the future. He can tell anything
that has happened, but nothing that is going
to happen. Don't ask me why, for I don't know."

"Well," said the Cookie Cook, after a little thought,
"I mean to go to this magician, anyhow, and tell him I
want my dishpan. I wish I knew what Ugu the Shoemaker
is like."

"Then I'll show him to you," promised the King. "But
do not be frightened; it won't be Ugu, remember, but
only his image."

With this he waved his metal wand again and in the
circle suddenly appeared a thin little man, very old
and skinny, who was seated on a wicker stool before a
wicker table. On the table lay a Great Book with gold
clasps. The Book was open and the man was reading in
it. He wore great spectacles, which were fastened
before his eyes by means of a ribbon that passed around
his head and was tied in a bow at the back. His hair
was very thin and white; his skin, which clung fast to
his bones, was brown and seared with furrows; he had a
big, fat nose and little eyes set close together.

On no account was Ugu the Shoemaker a pleasant person
to gaze at. As his image appeared before them, all were
silent and intent until Corporal Waddle, the Brown
Bear, became nervous and Pulled the trigger of his gun.
Instantly the cork flew out of the tin barrel with a
loud "pop!" that made them all jump. And, at this
sound, the image of the magician vanished.

"So! that's the thief, is it?" said Cayke, in an
angry voice. "I should think he'd be ashamed of himself
for stealing a poor woman's diamond dishpan! But I mean
to face him in his wicker castle and force him to
return my property."

"To me," said the Bear King, reflectively, "he looked
like a dangerous person. I hope he won't be so unkind
as to argue the matter with you."

The Frogman was much disturbed by the vision of Ugu
the Shoemaker, and Cayke's determination to go to the
magician filled her companion with misgivings. But he
would not break his pledged word to assist the Cookie
Cook and after breathing a deep sigh of resignation he
asked the King:

"Will Your Majesty lend us this Pink Bear who answers
questions, that we may take him with us on our journey?
He would be very useful to us and we will promise to
bring him safely hack to you."

The King did not reply at once; he seemed to be
thinking.

"Please let us take the Pink Bear," begged Cayke.
"I'm sure he would be a great help to us."

"The Pink Bear," said the King, "is the best bit of
magic I possess, and there is not another like him in
the world. I do not care to let him out of my sight;
nor do I wish to disappoint you; so I believe I will
make the journey in your company and carry my Pink Bear
with me. He can walk, when you wind the other side of
him, but so slowly and awkwardly that he would delay
you. But if I go along I can carry him in my arms, so I
will join your party. Whenever you are ready to start,
let me know.

"But -- Your Majesty!" exclaimed Corporal Waddle in
protest, "I hope you do not intend to let these
prisoners escape without punishment."

"Of what crime do you accuse them?" inquired the
King.

"Why, they trespassed on your domain, for one thing,"
said the Brown Bear.

"We didn't know it was private property, Your
Majesty," said the Cookie Cook.

"And they asked if any of us had stolen the dishpan!"
continued Corporal Waddle indignantly. "That is the
same thing as calling us thieves and robbers, and
bandits and brigands, is it not?"

"Every person has the right to ask questions," said
the Frogman.

"But the Corporal is quite correct," declared the
Lavender Bear. "I condemn you both to death, the
execution to take place ten years from this hour."

"But we belong in the Land of Oz, where no one ever
dies," Cayke reminded him.

"Very true,  said the King. "I condemn you to death
merely as a matter of form. It sounds quite terrible,
and in ten years we shall have forgotten all about it.
Are you ready to start for the wicker castle of Ugu the
Shoemaker?"

"Quite ready, Your Majesty."

"But who will rule in your place, while you are
gone?" asked a big Yellow Bear.

"I myself will rule while I am gone," was the reply.
"A King isn't required to stay at home forever, and if
he takes a notion to travel, whose business is it but
his own? All I ask is that you bears behave yourselves
while I am away. If any of you is naughty, I'll send
him to some girl or boy in America to play with."

This dreadful threat made all the toy bears look
solemn. They assured the King, in a chorus of growls,
that they would be good. Then the big Lavender Bear
picked up the little Pink Bear and after tucking it
carefully under one arm he said "Good-bye till I come
back!" and waddled along the path that led through the
forest. The Frogman and Cayke the Cookie Cook also said
good-bye to the bears and then followed after the King,
much to the regret of the little Brown Bear, who pulled
the trigger of his gun and popped the cork as a parting
salute.




Chapter Seventeen

The Meeting


While the Frog man and his party were advancing from
the west, Dorothy and her party were advancing from
the east, and so it happened that on the following
night they all camped at a little hill that was only a
few miles from the wicker castle of Ugu the Shoemaker.
But the two parties did not see one another that night,
for one camped on one side of the hill while the other
camped on the opposite side. But the next morning the
Frogman thought he would climb the hill and see what
was on top of it, and at the same time Scraps, the
Patchwork Girl, also decided to climb the hill to find
if the wicker castle was visible from its top. So she
stuck her head over an edge just as the Frogman's head
appeared over another edge and both, being surprised,
kept still while they took a good look at one another.

Scraps recovered from her astonishment first and
bounding upward she turned a somersault and landed
sitting down and facing the big Frogman, who slowly
advanced and sat opposite her.

"Well met, Stranger!" cried the Patchwork Girl, with
a whoop of laughter. "You are quite the funniest
individual I have seen in all my travels."

"Do you suppose I can be any funnier than you?" asked
the Frogman, gazing at her in wonder.

"I'm, not funny to myself, you know," returned
Scraps. "I wish I were. And perhaps you are so used to
your own absurd shape that you do not laugh whenever
you see your reflection in a pool, or in a mirror.

"No," said the Frogman gravely, "I do not. I used to
be proud of my great size and vain of my culture and
education, but since I bathed in the Truth Pond I
sometimes think it is not right that I should be
different from all other frogs."

"Right or wrong," said the Patchwork Girl, "to be
different is to be distinguished. Now, in my case, I'm
just like all other Patchwork Girls because I'm the
only one there is. But, tell me, where did you come
from?"

"The Yip Country," said he.

"Is that in the Land of Oz?"

"Of course," replied the Frogman.

"And do you know that your Ruler, Ozma of Oz, has
been stolen?"

"I was not aware that I had a Ruler, so of course I
couldn't know that she was stolen."

"Well, you have. All the people of Oz," explained
Scraps, "are ruled by Ozma, whether they know it or
not. And she has been stolen. Aren't you angry? Aren't
you indignant? Your Ruler, whom you didn't know you
had, has positively been stolen!"

"That is queer," remarked the Frogman thoughtfully.
"Stealing is a thing practically unknown in Oz, yet
this Ozma has been taken and a friend of mine has also
had her dishpan stolen. With her I have traveled all
the way from the Yip Country in order to recover it."

"I don't see any connection between a Royal Ruler of
Oz and a dishpan!" declared Scraps.

"They've both been stolen, haven't they?"

"True. But why can't your friend wash her dishes in
another dishpan?" asked Scraps.

"Why can't you use another Royal Ruler? I suppose you
prefer the one who is lost, and my friend wants her own
dishpan, which is made of gold and studded with
diamonds and has magic powers.

"Magic, eh?" exclaimed Scraps. "There is a link that
connects the two steals, anyhow, for it seems that all
the magic in the Land of Oz was stolen at the same
time, whether it was in the Emerald City or in Glinda's
castle or in the Yip Country. Seems mighty strange and
mysterious, doesn't it?"

"It used to seem that way to us," admitted the
Frogman, "but we have now discovered who took our
dishpan. It was Ugu the Shoemaker."

"Ugu? Good gracious! That's the same magician we
think has stolen Ozma. We are now on our way to the
castle of this Shoemaker."

"So are we," said the Frogman.

"Then follow me, quick! and let me introduce you to
Dorothy and the other girls and to the Wizard of Oz and
all the rest of us."

She sprang up and seized his coat-sleeve, dragging
him off the hilltop and down the other side from that
whence he had come. And at the foot of the hill the
Frogman was astonished to find the three girls and the
Wizard and Button-Bright, who were surrounded by a
wooden Sawhorse, a lean Mule, a square Woozy and a
Cowardly Lion. A little black dog ran up and smelled at
the Frogman, but couldn't growl at him.

"I've discovered another party that has been robbed,"
shouted Scraps as she joined them. "This is their
leader and they're all going to Ugu's castle to fight
the wicked Shoemaker!"

They regarded the Frogman with much curiosity and
interest and, finding all eyes fixed upon him, the
newcomer arranged his necktie and smoothed his
beautiful vest and swung his gold-headed cane like a
regular dandy. The big spectacles over his eyes quite
altered his froglike countenance and gave him a learned
and impressive look. Used as she was to seeing strange
creatures in the Land of Oz, Dorothy was amazed at
discovering the Frogman. So were all her companions.
Toto wanted to growl at him, but couldn't, and he
didn't dare bark. The Sawhorse snorted rather
contemptuously, but the Lion whispered to the wooden
steed: "Bear with this strange creature, my friend, and
remember he is no more extraordinary than you are.
Indeed, it is more natural for a frog to be big than
for a Sawhorse to be alive."

On being questioned, the Frogman told them the whole
story of the loss of Cayke's highly prized dishpan and
their adventures in search of it. When he came to tell
of the Lavender Bear King and of the Little Pink Bear
who could tell anything you wanted to know, his hearers
became eager to see such interesting animals.

"It will be best," said the Wizard, "to unite our two
parties and share our fortunes together, for we are all
bound on the same errand and as one band we may more
easily defy this shoemaker magician than if separate.
Let us be allies."

"I will ask my friends about that," replied the
Frogman, and climbed over the hill to find Cayke and
the toy bears. The Patchwork Girl accompanied him and
when they came upon the Cookie Cook and the Lavender
Bear and the Pink Bear it was hard to tell which of the
lot was the most surprised.

"Mercy me!" cried Cayke, addressing the Patchwork
Girl. "However did you come alive?"

Scraps stared at the bears.

"Mercy me!" she echoed; "you are stuffed, as I am,
with cotton, and yet you appear to be living. That
makes me feel ashamed, for I have prided myself on
being the only live cotton-stuffed person in Oz."

"Perhaps you are," returned the Lavender Bear, "for I
am stuffed with extra-quality curled hair, and so is
the Little Pink Bear."

"You have relieved my mind of a great anxiety,"
declared the Patchwork Girl, now speaking more
cheerfully. "The Scarecrow is stuffed with straw, and
you with hair, so I am still the Original and Only
Cotton-Stuffed!"

"I hope I am too polite to criticize cotton, as
compared with curled hair," said the King, "especially
as you seem satisfied with it."

Then the Frogman told of his interview with the party
from the Emerald City and added that the Wizard of Oz
had invited the bears and Cayke and himself to travel
in company with them to the castle of Ugu the
Shoemaker. Cayke was much pleased, but the Bear King
looked solemn. He set the Little Pink Bear on his lap
and turned the crank in its side and asked:

"Is it safe for us to associate with those people
from the Emerald City?"

And the Pink Bear at once replied: "Safe for you and
safe for me; Perhaps no others safe will be."

"That 'perhaps' need not worry us," said the King;
"so let us join the others and offer them our
protection."

Even the Lavender Bear was astonished, however, when
on climbing over the hill he found on the other side
the group of queer animals and the people from the
Emerald City. The bears and Cayke were received very
cordially, although Button-Bright was cross when they
wouldn't let him play with the Little Pink Bear. The
three girls greatly admired the toy bears, and
especially the pink one, which they longed to hold.

"You see," explained the Lavender King, in denying
them this privilege, "he's a very valuable bear,
because his magic is a correct guide on all occasions,
and especially if one is in difficulties. It was the
Pink Bear who told us that Ugu the Shoemaker had stolen
the Cookie Cook's dishpan."

"And the King's magic is just as wonderful," added
Cayke, "because it showed us the Magician himself."

"What did he look like?" inquired Dorothy.

"He was dreadful!"

"He was sitting at a table and examining an immense
Book which had three golden clasps," remarked the King.

"Why, that must have been Glinda's Great Book of
Records!" exclaimed Dorothy. "If it is, it proves that
Ugu the Shoemaker stole Ozma, and with her all the
magic in the Emerald City."

"And my dishpan," said Cayke.

 And the Wizard added:

"It also proves that he is following our adventures
in the Book of Records, and therefore knows that we are
seeking him and that we are determined to find him and
rescue Ozma at all hazards."

"If we can," added the Woozy, but everybody frowned
at him.

The Wizard's statement was so true that the faces
around him were very serious until the Patchwork Girl
broke into a peal of laughter.

"Wouldn't it be a rich joke if he made prisoners of
us, too?" she said.

"No one but a crazy Patchwork Girl would consider
that a joke," grumbled Button-Bright.

And then the Lavender Bear King asked:

"Would you like to see this magical shoemaker?"

"Wouldn't he know it?" Dorothy inquired.

"No, I think not."

Then the King waved his metal wand and before them
appeared a room in the wicker castle of Ugu. On the
wall of the room hung Ozma's Magic Picture, and seated
before it was the Magician. They could see the Picture
as well as he could, because it faced them, and in the
Picture was the hillside where they were now sitting,
all their forms being reproduced in miniature. And,
curiously enough, within the scene of the Picture was
the scene they were now beholding, so they knew that
the Magician was at this moment watching them in the
Picture, and also that he saw himself and the room he
was in become visible to the people on the hillside.
Therefore he knew very well that they were watching him
while he was watching them.

In proof of this, Ugu sprang from his seat and turned
a scowling face in their direction; but now he could
not see the travelers who were seeking him, although
they could still see him. His actions were so distinct,
indeed, that it seemed he was actually before them.

"It is only a ghost," said the Bear King. "It isn't
real at all, except that it shows us Ugu just as he
looks and tells us truly just what he is doing."

"I don't see anything of my lost growl, though," said
Toto, as if to himself.

Then the vision faded away and they could see nothing
but the grass and trees and bushes around them.




Chapter Eighteen

The Conference


"Now, then," said the Wizard, "let us talk this matter
over and decide what to do when we get to Ugu's wicker
castle. There can be no doubt that the Shoemaker is a
powerful Magician, and his powers have been increased a
hundredfold since he secured the Great Book of Records,
the Magic Picture, all of Glinda's recipes for sorcery
and my own black bag -- which was full of tools of
wizardry. The man who could rob us of those things, and
the man with all their powers at his command, is one
who may prove somewhat difficult to conquer; there fore
we should plan our actions well before we venture too
near to his castle."

"I didn't see Ozma in the Magic Picture," said Trot.
"What do you suppose Ugu has done with her?"

"Couldn't the Little Pink Bear tell us what he did
with Ozma?" asked Button-Bright.

"To be sure," replied the Lavender King; "I'll ask
him."

So he turned the crank in the Little Pink Bear's side
and inquired:

"Did Ugu the Shoemaker steal Ozma of Oz?"

"Yes," answered the Little Pink Bear.

"Then what did he do with her?" asked the King.

"Shut her up in a dark place," answered the Little
Pink Bear.

"Oh, that must be a dungeon cell!" cried Dorothy,
horrified. "How dreadful!"

"Well, we must get her out of it," said the Wizard.
"That is what we came for and of course we must rescue
Ozma. But -- how?"

Each one looked at some other one for an answer and
all shook their heads in a grave and dismal manner. All
but Scraps, who danced around them gleefully.

"You're afraid," said the Patchwork Girl, "because so
many things can hurt your meat bodies. Why don't you
give it up and go home? How can you fight a great
magician when you have nothing to fight with?"

Dorothy looked at her reflectively.

"Scraps," said she, "you know that Ugu couldn't hurt
you, a bit, whatever he did; nor could he hurt me,
'cause I wear the Nome King's Magic Belt. Spose just we
two go on together, and leave the others here to wait
for us?"

"No, no!" said the Wizard positively. "That won't do
at all. Ozma is more powerful than either of you, yet
she could not defeat the wicked Ugu, who has shut her
up in a dungeon. We must go to the Shoemaker in one
mighty band, for only in union is there strength."

"That is excellent advice," said the Lavender Bear,
approvingly.

"But what can we do, when we get to Ugu?" inquired
the Cookie Cook anxiously.

"Do not expect a prompt answer to that important
question," replied the Wizard, "for we must first plan
our line of conduct. Ugu knows, of course, that we are
after him, for he has seen our approach in the Magic
Picture, and he has read of all we have done up to the
present moment in the Great Book of Records. Therefore
we cannot expect to take him by surprise."

"Don't you suppose Ugu would listen to reason?" asked
Betsy. "If we explained to him how wicked he has been,
don't you think he'd let poor Ozma go?"

"And give me back my dishpan?" added the Cookie Cook
eagerly.

"Yes, yes; won't he say he's sorry and get on his
knees and beg our pardon?" cried Scraps, turning a
flip-flop to show her scorn of the Suggestion. "When
Ugu the Shoemaker does that, please knock at the front
door and let me know."

The Wizard sighed and rubbed his bald head with a
puzzled air.

"I'm quite sure Ugu will not be polite to us, said
he, "so we must conquer this cruel magician by force,
much as we dislike to be rude to anyone. But none of
you has yet suggested a way to do that. Couldn't the
Little Pink Bear tell us how?" he asked, turning to the
Bear King.

"No, for that is something that is going to happen,"
replied the Lavender Bear. "He can only tell us what
already has happened."

Again they were grave and thoughtful. But after a
time Betsy said in a hesitating voice:

"Hank is a great fighter; perhaps he could
conquer the magician."

The Mule turned his head to look reproachfully at his
old friend, the young girl.

"Who can fight against magic?" he asked.

"The Cowardly Lion could," said Dorothy.

The Lion, who was lying with his front legs spread
out, his chin on his paws, raised his shaggy head.

"I can fight when I'm not afraid," said he calmly;
"but the mere mention of a fight sets me to trembling."

"Ugu's magic couldn't hurt the Sawhorse," suggested
tiny Trot.

"And the Sawhorse couldn't hurt the Magician,"
declared that wooden animal.

"For my part," said Toto, "I am helpless, having lost
my growl."

"Then," said Cayke the Cookie Cook, "we must depend
upon the Frogman. His marvelous wisdom will surely
inform him how to conquer the wicked Magician and
restore to me my dishpan."

All eyes were now turned questioningly upon the
Frogman. Finding himself the center of observation, he
swung his gold-headed cane, adjusted his big spectacles
and after swelling out his chest, sighed and said in a
modest tone of voice:

"Respect for truth obliges me to confess that Cayke
is mistaken in regard to my superior wisdom. I am not
very wise. Neither have I had any practical experience
in conquering magicians. But let us consider this case.
What is Ugu, and what is a magician? Ugu is a renegade
shoemaker and a magician is an ordinary man who, having
learned how to do magical tricks, considers himself
above his fellows. In this case, the Shoemaker has been
naughty enough to steal a lot of magical tools and
things that did not belong to him, and it is more
wicked to steal than to be a magician. Yet, with all
the arts at his command, Ugu is still a man, and surely
there are ways in which a man may be conquered. How,
do you say, how? Allow me to state that I don't know.
In my judgment we cannot decide how best to act until
we get to Ugu's castle. So let us go to it and take a
look at it. After that we may discover an idea that
will guide us to victory."

"That may not be a wise speech, but it sounds good,"
said Dorothy approvingly. "Ugu the Shoemaker is not
only a common man, but he's a wicked man and a cruel
man and deserves to be conquered. We mustn't have any
mercy on him till Ozma is set free. So let's go to his
castle, as the Frogman says, and see what the place
looks like."

No one offered an objection to this plan and so it
was adopted. They broke camp and were about to start on
the journey to Ugu's castle when they discovered that
Button-Bright was lost again. The girls and the Wizard
shouted his name and the Lion roared and the Donkey
brayed and the Frogman croaked and the Big Lavender
Bear growled (to the envy of Toto, who couldn't growl
but barked his loudest) yet none of them could make
Button-Bright hear. So, after vainly searching for the
boy a full hour, they formed a procession and proceeded
in the direction of the wicker castle of Ugu the
Shoemaker.

"Button-Bright's always getting lost," said Dorothy.
"And, if he wasn't always getting found again, I'd
prob'ly worry. He may have gone ahead of us, and he may
have gone back; but, wherever he is, we'll find him
sometime and somewhere, I'm almost sure.




Chapter Nineteen

Ugu the Shoemaker


A curious thing about Ugu the Shoemaker was that he
didn't suspect, in the least, that he was wicked. He
wanted to be powerful and great and he hoped to make
himself master of all the Land of Oz, that he might
compel everyone in that fairy country to obey him. His
ambition blinded him to the rights of others and he
imagined anyone else would act just as he did if anyone
else happened to be as clever as himself.

When he inhabited his little shoemaking shop in the
City of Herku he had been discontented, for a shoemaker
is not looked upon with high respect and Ugu knew that
his ancestors had been famous magicians for many
centuries past and therefore his family was above the
ordinary. Even his father practiced magic, when Ugu was
a boy; but his father had wandered away from Herku and
had never come back again. So, when Ugu grew up, he was
forced to make shoes for a living, knowing nothing of
the magic of his forefathers. But one day, in searching
through the attic of his house, he discovered all the
books of magical recipes and many magical instruments
which had formerly been in use in his family. From that
day he stopped making shoes and began to study magic.
Finally he aspired to become the greatest magician in
Oz, and for days and weeks and months he thought on a
plan to render all the other sorcerers and wizards, as
well as those with fairy powers, helpless to oppose
him.

From the books of his ancestors he learned the
following facts:

(1)  That Ozma of Oz was the fairy ruler of the
Emerald City and the Land of Oz, and that she could not
be destroyed by any magic ever devised. Also, by means
of her Magic Picture she would be able to discover
anyone who approached her royal palace with the idea of
conquering it.

(2)  That Glinda the Good was the most powerful
Sorceress in Oz, among her other magical possessions
being the Great Book of Records, which told her all
that happened anywhere in the world. This Book of
Records was very dangerous to Ugu's plans and Glinda
was in the service of Ozma and would use her arts of
sorcery to protect the girl Ruler.

(3)  That the Wizard of Oz, who lived in Ozma's
palace, had been taught much powerful magic by Glinda
and had a bag of magic tools with which he might be
able to conquer the Shoemaker.

(4)  That there existed in Oz-in the Yip Country -- a
jeweled dishpan made of gold, which dishpan possessed
marvelous powers of magic. At a magic word, which Ugu
learned from the book, the dishpan would grow large
enough for a man to sit inside it. Then, when he
grasped both the golden handles, the dishpan would
transport him in an instant to any place he wished to
go within the borders of the Land of Oz.

No one now living, except Ugu, knew of the powers of
this Magic Dishpan; so, after long study, the shoemaker
decided that if he could manage to secure the dishpan
he could, by its means, rob Ozma and Glinda and the
Wizard of Oz of all their magic, thus becoming himself
the most powerful person in all the land.

His first act was to go away from the City of Herku
and built for himself the Wicker Castle in the hills.
Here he carried his books and instruments of magic and
here for a full year he diligently practiced all the
magical arts learned from his ancestors. At the end of
that time he could do a good many wonderful things.

Then, when all his preparations were made, he set out
for the Yip Country and climbing the steep mountain at
night he entered the house of Cayke the Cookie Cook and
stole her diamond-studded gold dishpan while all the
Yips were asleep. Taking his prize outside, he set the
pan upon the ground and uttered the required magic
word. Instantly the dishpan grew as large as a big
washtub and Ugu seated himself in it and grasped the
two handles. Then he wished himself in the great
drawing-room of Glinda the Good.

He was there in a flash. First he took the Great Book
of Records and put it in the dishpan. Then he went to
Glinda's laboratory and took all her rare chemical
compounds and her instruments of sorcery, placing these
also in the dishpan, which he caused to grow large
enough to hold them. Next he seated himself amongst the
treasures he had stolen and wished himself in the room
in Ozma's palace which the Wizard occupied and where he
kept his bag of magic tools. This bag Ugu added to his
plunder and then wished himself in the apartments of
Ozma.

Here he first took the Magic Picture from the wall
and then seized all the other magical things which Ozma
possessed. Having placed these in the dishpan he was
about to climb in himself when he looked up and saw
Ozma standing beside him. Her fairy instinct had warned
her that danger was threatening her, so the beautiful
girl Ruler rose from her couch and leaving her
bedchamber at once confronted the thief.

Ugu had to think quickly, for he realized that if he
permitted Ozma to rouse the inmates of her palace all
his plans and his present successes were likely to come
to naught. So he threw a scarf over the girl's head, so
she could not scream, and pushed her into the dishpan
and tied her fast, so she could not move. Then he
climbed in beside her and wished himself in his own
wicker castle. The Magic Dishpan was there in an
instant, with all its contents, and Ugu rubbed his
hands together in triumphant joy as he realized that he
now possessed all the important magic in the Land of Oz
and could force all the inhabitants of that fairyland
to do as he willed.

So quickly had his journey been accomplished that
before daylight the robber magician had locked Ozma in
a room, making her a prisoner, and had unpacked and
arranged all his stolen goods. The next day he placed
the Book of Records on his table and hung the Magic
Picture on his wall and put away in his cupboards and
drawers all the elixirs and magic compounds he had
stolen. The magical instruments he polished and
arranged, and this was fascinating work and made him
very happy. The only thing that bothered him was Ozma.
By turns the imprisoned Ruler wept and scolded the
Shoemaker, haughtily threatening him with dire
punishment for the wicked deeds he had done. Ugu became
somewhat afraid of his fairy prisoner, in spite of the
fact that he believed he had robbed her of all her
powers; so he performed an enchantment that quickly
disposed of her and placed her out of his sight and
hearing. After that, being occupied with other things,
he soon forgot her.

But now, when he looked into the Magic Picture and
read the Great Book of Records, the Shoemaker learned
that his wickedness was not to go unchallenged. Two
important expeditions had set out to find him and force
him to give up his stolen property. One was the party
headed by the Wizard and Dorothy, while the other
consisted of Cayke and the Frogman. Others were also
searching, but not in the right places. These two
groups, however, were headed straight for the wicker
castle and so Ugu began to plan how best to meet them
and to defeat their efforts to conquer him.




Chapter Twenty

More Surprises


All that first day after the union of the two parties
our friends  marched steadily toward the wicker castle
of Ugu the Shoemaker. When night came they camped in a
little grove and passed a pleasant evening together,
although some of them were worried because Button-
Bright was still lost.

"Perhaps," said Toto, as the animals lay grouped
together for the night, "this Shoemaker who stole my
growl, and who stole Ozma, has also stolen Button
Bright."

"How do you know that the Shoemaker stole your
growl?" demanded the Woozy.

"He has stolen about everything else of value in Oz,
hasn't he?" replied the dog.

"He has stolen everything he wants, perhaps," agreed
the Lion; "but what could anyone want with your growl?"

"Well," said the dog, wagging his tail slowly, "my
recollection is that it was a wonderful growl, soft and
low and -- and --"

"And ragged at the edges," said the Sawhorse.

"So," continued Toto, "if that magician hadn't any
growl of his own, he might have wanted mine and stolen
it."

"And, if he has, he will soon wish he hadn't,"
remarked the Mule. "Also, if he has stolen Button-
Bright he will be sorry."

"Don't you like Button-Bright, then?" asked the Lion
in surprise.

"It isn't a question of liking him," replied the
Mule. "It's a question of watching him and looking
after him. Any boy who causes his friends so much worry
isn't worth having around. I never get lost."

"If you did," said Toto, "no one would worry a bit. I
think Button-Bright is a very lucky boy, because he
always gets found."

"See here," said the Lion, "this chatter is keeping
us all awake and tomorrow is likely to be a busy day.
Go to sleep and forget your quarrels."

"Friend Lion," retorted the dog, "if I hadn't lost my
growl you would hear it now. I have as much right to
talk as you have to sleep."

The Lion sighed.

"If only you had lost your voice, when you lost your
growl," said he, "you would be a more agreeable
companion."

But they quieted down, after that, and soon the
entire camp was wrapped in slumber.

Next morning they made an early start but had hardly
proceeded on their way an hour when, on climbing a
slight elevation, they beheld in the distance a low
mountain, on top of which stood Ugu's wicker castle. It
was a good-sized building and rather pretty because the
sides, roofs and domes were all of wicker closely
woven, as it is in fine baskets.

"I wonder if it is strong?" said Dorothy musingly, as
she eyed the queer castle.

"I suppose it is, since a magician built it,"
answered the Wizard. "With magic to protect it, even a
paper castle might be as strong as if made of stone.
This Ugu must be a man of ideas, because he does things
in a different way from other people."

"Yes; no one else would steal our dear Ozma," sighed
tiny Trot.

"I wonder if Ozma is there?" said Betsy, indicating
the castle with a nod of her head.

"Where else could she be?" asked Scraps.

"S'pose we ask the Pink Bear," suggested Dorothy.

That seemed a good idea, so they halted the
procession and the Bear King held the little Pink Bear
on his lap and turned the crank in its side and asked:

"Where is Ozma of Oz?"

And the little Pink Bear answered:

"She is in a hole in the ground, a half mile away, at
your left."

"Good gracious!" cried Dorothy. "Then she is not in
Ugu's castle at all."

"It is lucky we asked that question," said the
Wizard; "for, if we can find Ozma and rescue
her, there will be no need for us to fight that
wicked and dangerous magician."

"Indeed!" said Cayke. "Then what about my dishpan?"

The Wizard looked puzzled at her tone of remonstrance,
so she added:

"Didn't you people from the Emerald City promise that
we would all stick together, and that you would help me
to get my dishpan if I would help you to get your Ozma?
And didn't I bring to you the little Pink Bear, which
has told you where Ozma is hidden?"

"She's right," said Dorothy to the Wizard. "We must
do as we agreed."

"Well, first of all, let us go and rescue Ozma,"
proposed the Wizard. "Then our beloved Ruler may be
able to advise us how to conquer Ugu the Shoemaker."

So they turned to the left and marched for half a
mile until they came to a small but deep hole in the
ground. At once all rushed to the brim to peer into the
hole, but instead of finding there Princess Ozma of Oz,
all that they saw was Button-Bright, who was lying
asleep on the bottom.

Their cries soon wakened the boy, who sat up and
rubbed his eyes. When he recognized his friends he
smiled sweetly, saying: "Found again!"

"Where is Ozma?" inquired Dorothy anxiously.

"I don't know," answered Button-Bright from the
depths of the hole. "I got lost, yesterday, as you may
remember, and in the night, while I was wandering
around in the moonlight, trying to find my way back to
you, I suddenly fell into this hole."

"And wasn't Ozma in it then?"

"There was no one in it but me, and I was sorry it
wasn't entirely empty. The sides are so steep I can't
climb out, so there was nothing to be done but sleep
until someone found me. Thank you for coming. If you'll
please let down a rope I'll empty this hole in a
hurry."

"How strange!" said Dorothy, greatly disappointed.
"It's evident the Pink Bear didn't tell us the truth."

"He never makes a mistake," declared the Lavender
Bear King, in a tone that showed his feelings were
hurt. And then he turned the crank of the little Pink
Bear again and asked: "Is this the hole that Ozma of Oz
is in?"

"Yes," answered the Pink Bear.

"That settles it," said the King, positively. "Your
Ozma is in this hole in the ground."

"Don't be silly," returned Dorothy impatiently. "Even
your beady eyes can see there is no one in the hole but
Button-Bright."

"Perhaps Button-Bright is Ozma," suggested the King.

"And perhaps he isn't! Ozma is a girl, and Button-
Bright is a boy."

"Your Pink Bear must be out of order," said the
Wizard; "for, this time at least, his machinery has
caused him to make an untrue statement."

The Bear King was so angry at this remark that he
turned away, holding the Pink Bear in his paws, and
refused to discuss the matter in any further way.

"At any rate," said the Frogman, "the Pink Bear has
led us to your boy friend and so enabled you to rescue
him."

Scraps was leaning so far over the hole, trying to
find Ozma in it, that suddenly she lost her balance and
pitched in headforemost. She fell upon Button-Bright
and tumbled him over, but he was not hurt by her soft
stuffed body and only laughed at the mishap. The Wizard
buckled some straps together and let one end of them
down into the hole, and soon both Scraps and the boy
had climbed up and were standing safely beside the
others.

They looked once more for Ozma, but the hole was now
absolutely vacant. It was a round hole, so from the top
they could plainly see every part of it. Before they
left the place Dorothy went to the Bear King and said:

"I'm sorry we couldn't believe what the little Pink
Bear said, 'cause we don't want to make you feel bad by
doubting him. There must be a mistake, somewhere, and
we prob'ly don't understand just what the little Pink
Bear means. Will you let me ask him one more question?"

The Lavender Bear King was a good-natured bear,
considering how he was made and stuffed and jointed, so
he accepted Dorothy's apology and turned the crank and
allowed the little girl to question his wee Pink Bear.

"Is Ozma really in this hole?" asked Dorothy.

"No," said the little Pink Bear.

This surprised everybody. Even the Bear King was now
puzzled by the contradictory statements of his oracle.

"Where is she?" asked the King.

"Here, among you," answered the little Pink Bear.

"Well," said Dorothy, "this beats me, entirely! I
guess the little Pink Bear has gone crazy.

"Perhaps," called Scraps, who was rapidly turning
"cart-wheels" all around the perplexed group, "Ozma is
invisible."

"Of course!" cried Betsy. "That would account for
it."

"Well, I've noticed that people can speak, even when
they've been made invisible," said the Wizard. And then
he looked all around him and said in a solemn voice:
"Ozma, are you here?"

There was no reply. Dorothy asked the question, too,
and so did Button-Bright and Trot and Betsy; but none
received any reply at all.

"It's strange -- it's terrible strange!" muttered
Cayke the Cookie Cook. "I was sure that the little Pink
Bear always tells the truth."

"I still believe in his honesty," said the Frogman,
and this tribute so pleased the Bear King that he gave
these last speakers grateful looks, but still gazed
sourly on the others.

"Come to think of it," remarked the Wizard, "Ozma
couldn't be invisible, for she is a fairy and fairies
cannot be made invisible against their will. Of course
she could be imprisoned by the magician, or even
enchanted, or transformed, in spite of her fairy
powers; but Ugu could not render her invisible by any
magic at his command."

"I wonder if she's been transformed into Button-
Bright?" said Dorothy nervously. Then she looked
steadily at the boy and asked: "Are you Ozma? Tell me
truly!"

Button-Bright laughed.

"You're getting rattled, Dorothy," he replied.
"Nothing ever enchants me. If I were Ozma, do
you think I'd have tumbled into that hole?"

"Anyhow," said the Wizard, "Ozma would never try to
deceive her friends, or prevent them from recognizing
her, in whatever form she happened to be. The puzzle
is still a puzzle, so let us go on to the wicker castle
and question the magician himself. Since it was he who
stole our Ozma, Ugu is the one who must tell us where
to find her."




Chapter Twenty-One

Magic Against Magic


The Wizard's advice was good, so again they started in
the direction of the low mountain on the crest of which
the wicker castle had been built. They had been
gradually advancing up hill, so now the elevation
seemed to them more like a round knoll than a mountain-
top. However, the sides of the knoll were sloping and
covered with green grass, so there was a stiff climb
before them yet.

Undaunted, they plodded on and had almost
reached the knoll when they suddenly observed
that it was surrounded by a circle of flame. At
first the flames barely rose above the ground, but
presently they grew higher and higher until a
circle of flaming tongues of fire taller than any
of their heads quite surrounded the hill on which
the wicker castle stood. When they approached
the flames the heat was so intense that it drove
them back again.

"This will never do for me!" exclaimed the Patchwork
Girl. "I catch fire very easily."

"It won't do for me, either," grumbled the Sawhorse,
prancing to the rear.

"I also object strongly to fire," said the Bear King,
following the Sawhorse to a safe distance and hugging
the little Pink Bear with his paws.

"I suppose the foolish Shoemaker imagines these
blazes will stop us," remarked the Wizard, with a smile
of scorn for Ugu. "But I am able to inform you that
this is merely a simple magic trick which the robber
stole from Glinda the Good, and by good fortune I know
how to destroy these flames, as well as how to produce
them. Will some one of you kindly give me a match?"

You may be sure the girls carried no matches, nor did
the Frogman or Cayke or any of the animals. But Button-
Bright, after searching carefully through his pockets,
which contained all sorts of useful and useless things,
finally produced a match and handed it to the Wizard,
who tied it to the end of a branch which he tore from
a small tree growing near them. Then the little Wizard
carefully lighted the match and running forward thrust
it into the nearest flame. Instantly the circle of fire
began to die away and soon vanished completely, leaving
the way clear for them to proceed.

"That was funny!" laughed Button-Bright.

"Yes," agreed the Wizard, "it seems odd that a little
match could destroy such a great circle of fire, but
when Glinda invented this trick she believed no one
would ever think of a match being a remedy for fire. I
suppose even Ugu doesn't know how we managed to quench
the flames of his barrier, for only Glinda and I know
the secret. Glinda's Book of Magic, which Ugu stole,
told how to make the flames, but not how to put them
out."

They now formed in marching order and proceeded to
advance up the slope of the hill; but had not gone far
when before them rose a wall of steel, the surface of
which was thickly covered with sharp, gleaming points
resembling daggers. The wall completely surrounded the
wicker castle and its sharp points prevented anyone
from climbing it. Even the Patchwork Girl might be
ripped to pieces if she dared attempt it.

"Ah!" exclaimed the Wizard cheerfully, "Ugu is now
using one of my own tricks against me. But this is more
serious than the Barrier of Fire, because the only way
to destroy the wall is to get on the other side of it."

"How can that be done?" asked Dorothy.

The Wizard looked thoughtfully around his little
party and his face grew troubled.

"It's a pretty high wall," he sadly remarked. "I'm
pretty sure the Cowardly Lion could not leap over it."

"I'm sure of that, too!" said the Lion with a shudder
of fear. "If I foolishly tried such a leap I would be
caught on those dreadful spikes."

"I think I could do it, sir," said the Frogman, with
a bow to the Wizard. "It is an up-hill jump, as well as
being a high jump, but I'm considered something of a
jumper by my friends in the Yip Country and I believe a
good, strong leap will carry me to the other side."

"I'm sure it would," agreed the Cookie Cook.

"Leaping, you know, is a froglike accomplishment,"
continued the Frogman, modestly, "but please tell me
what I am to do when I reach the other side of the
wall."

"You're a brave creature," said the Wizard,
admiringly. "Has anyone a pin?"

Betsy had one, which she gave him.

"All you need do," said the Wizard to the
Frogman, giving him the pin, is to stick this into the
other side of the wall."

"But the wall is of steel!" exclaimed the big frog.

"I know; at least, it seems to be steel; but do as I
tell you. Stick the pin into the wall and it will
disappear."

The Frogman took off his handsome coat and carefully
Folded it and laid it on the grass. Then he removed his
hat and laid it, together with his goldheaded cane,
beside the coat. He then went back a way and made three
powerful leaps, in rapid succession. The first two
leaps took him to the wall and the third leap carried
him well over it, to the amazement of all. For a short
time he disappeared from their view, but when he had
obeyed the Wizard's injunction and had thrust the pin
into the wall, the huge barrier vanished and showed
them the form of the Frogman, who now went to where his
coat lay and put it on again.

"We thank you very much," said the delighted Wizard.
"That was the most wonderful leap I ever saw and it has
saved us from defeat by our enemy. Let us now hurry on
to the castle before Ugu the Shoemaker thinks of some
other means to stop us.

"We must have surprised him, so far," declared
Dorothy.

"Yes, indeed. The fellow knows a lot of magic -- all
of our tricks and some of his own," replied the Wizard.
"So, if he is half as clever as he ought to be, we
shall have trouble with him yet."

He had scarcely spoken these words when out from the
gates of the wicker castle marched a regiment of
soldiers, clad in gay uniforms and all bearing long,
pointed spears and sharp battle-axes. These soldiers
were girls, and the uniforms were short skirts of
yellow and black satin, golden shoes, bands of gold
across their foreheads and necklaces of glittering
jewels. Their jackets were scarlet, braided with silver
cords. There were hundreds of these girl-soldiers, and
they were more terrible than beautiful, being strong
and fierce in appearance. They formed a circle all
around the castle and faced outward, their spears
pointed toward the invaders and their battle-axes held
over their shoulders ready to strike.

Of course our friends halted at once, for they had
not expected this dreadful array of soldiery. The
Wizard seemed puzzled and his companions exchanged
discouraged looks.

"I'd no idea Ugu had such an army as that," said
Dorothy. "The castle doesn't look big enough to hold
them all."

"It isn't," declared the Wizard.

"But they all marched out of it."

"They seemed to; but I don't believe it is a real
army at all. If Ugu the Shoemaker had so many people
living with him, I'm sure the Czarover of Herku would
have mentioned the fact to us."

"They're only girls!" laughed Scraps.

"Girls are the fiercest soldiers of all," declared
the Frogman. "They are more brave than men and they
have better nerves. That is probably why the magician
uses them for soldiers and has sent them to oppose us."

No one argued this statement, for all were staring
hard at the line of soldiers, which now, having taken a
defiant position, remained motionless.

"Here is a trick of magic to me," admitted the
Wizard, after a time. "I do not believe the army is
real, but the spears may be sharp enough to prick us,
nevertheless, so we must be cautious. Let us take time
to consider how to meet this difficulty."

While they were thinking it over Scraps danced closer
to the line of girl soldiers. Her button eyes sometimes
saw more than did the natural eyes of her comrades and
so, after staring hard at the magician's army, she
boldly advanced and danced right through the
threatening line! On the other side she waved her
stuffed arms and called out:

"Come on, folks. The spears can't hurt you.

"Ah!" said the Wizard, gaily, "an optical illusion,
as I thought. Let us all follow the Patchwork Girl."

The three little girls were somewhat nervous in
attempting to brave the spears and battle-axes, but
after the others had safely passed the line they
ventured to follow. And, when all had passed through
the ranks of the girl army, the army itself magically
disappeared from view.

All this time our friends had been getting farther up
the hill and nearer to the wicker castle. Now,
continuing their advance, they expected something else
to oppose their way, but to their astonishment nothing
happened and presently they arrived at the wicker
gates, which stood wide open, and boldly entered the
domain of Ugu the Shoemaker.




Chapter Twenty-Two

In the Wicker Castle


No sooner were the Wizard of Oz and his followers well
within the castle entrance when the big gates swung to
with a clang and heavy bars dropped across them. They
looked at one another uneasily, but no one cared to
speak of the incident. If they were indeed prisoners in
the wicker castle it was evident they must find a way
to escape, but their first duty was to attend to the
errand on which they had come and seek the Royal Ozma,
whom they believed to be a prisoner of the magician,
and rescue her.

They found they had entered a square courtyard, from
which an entrance led into the main building of the
castle. No person had appeared to greet them, so far,
although a gaudy peacock, perched upon the wall,
cackled with laughter and said in its sharp, shrill
voice: "Poor fools! Poor fools!"

"I hope the peacock is mistaken," remarked the
Frogman, but no one else paid any attention to the
bird. They were a little awed by the stillness and
loneliness of the place.

As they entered the doors of the castle, which stood
invitingly open, these also closed behind them and huge
bolts shot into place. The animals had all accompanied
the party into the castle, because they felt it would
be dangerous for them to separate. They were forced to
follow a zigzag passage, turning this way and that,
until finally they entered a great central hall,
circular in form and with a high dome from which was
suspended an enormous chandelier.

The Wizard went first, and Dorothy, Betsy and Trot
followed him, Toto keeping at the heels of his little
mistress. Then came the Lion, the Woozy and the
Sawhorse; then Cayke the Cookie Cook and Button-Bright;
then the Lavender Bear carrying the Pink Bear, and
finally the Frogman and the Patchwork Girl, with Hank
the Mule tagging behind. So it was the Wizard who
caught the first glimpse of the big domed hall, but the
others quickly followed and gathered in a wondering
group just within the entrance.

Upon a raised platform at one side was a heavy table
on which lay Glinda's Great Book of Records; but the
platform was firmly fastened to the floor and the table
was fastened to the platform and the Book was chained
fast to the table -- just as it had been when it was
kept in Glinda's palace. On the wall over the table
hung Ozma's Magic Picture. On a row of shelves at the
opposite side of the hall stood all the chemicals and
essences of magic and all the magical instruments that
had been stolen from Glinda and Ozma and the Wizard,
with glass doors covering the shelves so that no one
could get at them.

And in a far corner sat Ugu the Shoemaker, his feet
lazily extended, his skinny hands clasped behind his
head. He was leaning back at his ease and calmly
smoking a long pipe. Around the magician was a sort of
cage, seemingly made of golden bars set wide apart, and
at his feet -- also within the cage -- reposed the
long-sought diamond-studded dishpan of Cayke the Cookie
Cook.

Princess Ozma of Oz was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, well," said Ugu, when the invaders had stood
in silence for a moment, staring about them, "this
visit is an expected pleasure, I assure you. I knew you
were coming and I know why you are here. You are not
welcome, for I cannot use any of you to my advantage,
but as you have insisted on coming I hope you will make
the afternoon call as brief as possible. It won't take
long to transact your business with me. You will ask me
for Ozma, and my reply will be that you may find her --
if you can."

"Sir," answered the Wizard, in a tone of rebuke, "you
are a very wicked and cruel person. I suppose you
imagine, because you have stolen this poor woman's
dishpan and all the best magic in Oz, that you are more
powerful than we are and will be able to triumph over
us."

"Yes," said Ugu the Shoemaker, slowly filling his
pipe with fresh tobacco from a silver bowl that stood
beside him, "that is exactly what I imagine. It will do
you no good to demand from me the girl who was formerly
the Ruler of Oz, because I will not tell you where I
have hidden her and you can't guess in a thousand
years. Neither will I restore to you any of the magic I
have captured. I am not so foolish. But bear this in
mind: I mean to be the Ruler of Oz myself, hereafter,
so I advise you to be careful how you address your
future Monarch."

"Ozma is still Ruler of Oz, wherever you may have
hidden her," declared the Wizard. "And bear this in
mind, miserable Shoemaker: We intend to find her and to
rescue her, in time, but our first duty and pleasure
will be to conquer you and then punish you for your
misdeeds."

"Very well; go ahead and conquer," said Ugu. "I'd
really like to see how you can do it."

Now, although the little Wizard had spoken so boldly,
he had at the moment no idea how they might conquer the
magician. He had that morning given the Frogman, at his
request, a dose of zosozo from his bottle, and the
Frogman had promised to fight a good fight if it was
necessary; but the Wizard knew that strength alone
could not avail against magical arts. The toy Bear King
seemed to have some pretty good magic, however, and the
Wizard depended to an extent on that. But something
ought to be done right away, and the Wizard didn't know
what it was.

While he considered this perplexing question and the
others stood looking at him as their leader, a queer
thing happened. The floor of the great circular hall,
on which they were standing, suddenly began to tip.
Instead of being flat and level it became a slant, and
the slant grew steeper and steeper until none of the
party could manage to stand upon it. Presently they all
slid down to the wall, which was now under them, and
then it became evident that the whole vast room was
slowly turning upside down! Only Ugu the Shoemaker,
kept in place by the bars of his golden cage, remained
in his former position, and the wicked magician seemed
to enjoy the surprise of his victims immensely.

First, they all slid down to the wall back of them,
but as the room continued to turn over they next slid
down the wall and found themselves at the bottom of the
great dome, bumping against the big chandelier which,
like everything else, was now upside-down.

The turning movement now stopped and the room became
stationary. Looking far up, they saw Ugu suspended in
his cage at the very top, which had once been the floor

"Ah," said he, grinning down at them, "the way to
conquer is to act, and he who acts promptly is sure to
win. This makes a very good prison, from which I am
sure you cannot escape. Please amuse yourselves in any
way you like, but I must beg you to excuse me, as I
have business in another part of my castle."

Saying this, he opened a trap door in the floor of
his cage (which was now over his head) and climbed
through it and disappeared from their view. The diamond
dishpan still remained in the cage, but the bars kept
it from falling down on their heads.

"Well, I declare!" said the Patchwork Girl, seizing
one of the bars of the chandelier and swinging from it,
"we must peg one for the Shoemaker, for he has trapped
us very cleverly."

"Get off my foot, please," said the Lion to the
Sawhorse.

"And oblige me, Mr. Mule," remarked the Woozy, "by
taking your tail out of my left eye.

"It's rather crowded down here," explained Dorothy,
"because the dome is rounding and we have all slid into
the middle of it. But let us keep as quiet as possible
until we can think what's best to be done."

"Dear, dear!" wailed Cayke; "I wish I had my darling
dishpan," and she held her arms longingly toward it.

"I wish I had the magic on those shelves up there,"
sighed the Wizard.

"Don't you s'pose we could get to it?" asked Trot
anxiously.

"We'd have to fly," laughed the Patchwork Girl.

But the Wizard took the suggestion seriously, and so
did the Frogman. They talked it over and soon planned
an attempt to reach the shelves where the magical
instruments were. First the Frogman lay against the
rounding dome and braced his foot on the stem of the
chandelier; then the Wizard climbed over him and lay on
the dome with his feet on the Frogman's shoulders; the
Cookie Cook came next; then Button-Bright climbed to
the woman's shoulders; then Dorothy climbed up, and
Betsy and Trot, and finally the Patchwork Girl, and all
their lengths made a long line that reached far up the
dome but not far enough for Scraps to touch the
shelves.

"Wait a minute; perhaps I can reach the magic; called
the Bear King, and began scrambling up the bodies of
the others. But when he came to the Cookie Cook his
soft paws tickled her side so that she squirmed and
upset the whole line. Down they came, tumbling in a
heap against the animals, and although no one was much
hurt it was a bad mix-up and the Frogman, who was at
the bottom, almost lost his temper before he could get
on his feet again.

Cayke positively refused to try what she called "the
pyramid act" again, and as the Wizard was now convinced
they could not reach the magic tools in that manner the
attempt was abandoned.

"But something must be done," said the Wizard, and
then he turned to the Lavender Bear and asked: "Cannot
Your Majesty's magic help us to escape from here?"

"My magic powers are limited," was the reply. "When I
was stuffed, the fairies stood by and slyly dropped
some magic into my stuffing. Therefore I can do any of
the magic that's inside me, but nothing else. You,
however, are a wizard, and a wizard should be able to
do anything."

"Your Majesty forgets that my tools of magic have
been stolen," said the Wizard sadly, "and a wizard
without tools is as helpless as a carpenter without a
hammer or saw.

"Don't give up," pleaded Button-Bright, "'cause if we
can't get out of this queer prison we'll all starve to
death."

"Not I!" laughed the Patchwork Girl, now standing on
top the chandelier, at the place that was meant to be
the bottom of it.

"Don't talk of such dreadful things," said Trot,
shuddering. "We came here to capture the Shoemaker,
didn't we?"

"Yes, and to save Ozma," said Betsy.

"And here we are, captured ourselves, and my darling
dishpan up there in plain sight!" wailed the Cookie
Cook, wiping her eyes on the tail of the Frogman's
coat.

"Hush!" called the Lion, with a low, deep growl.
"Give the Wizard time to think."

"He has plenty of time," said Scraps. "What he needs
is the Scarecrow's brains."

After all, it was little Dorothy who came to their
rescue, and her ability to save them was almost as much
a surprise to the girl as it was to her friends.
Dorothy had been secretly testing the powers of her
Magic Belt, which she had once captured from the Nome
King, and experimenting with it in various ways, ever
since she had started on this eventful journey. At
different times she had stolen away from the others of
her party and in solitude had tried to find out what
the Magic Belt could do and what it could not do. There
were a lot of things it could not do, she discovered,
but she learned some things about the Belt which even
her girl friends did not suspect she knew.

For one thing, she had remembered that when the Nome
King owned it the Magic Belt used to perform
transformations, and by thinking hard she had finally
recalled the way in which such transformations had been
accomplished. Better than this, however, was the
discovery that the Magic Belt would grant its wearer
one wish a day. All she need do was close her right eye
and wiggle her left toe and then draw a long breath and
make her wish. Yesterday she had wished in secret for a
box of caramels, and instantly found the box beside
her. Today she had saved her daily wish, in case she
might need it in an emergency, and the time had now
come when she must use the wish to enable her to escape
with her friends from the prison in which Ugu had
caught them.

So, without telling anyone what she intended to do --
for she had only used the wish once and could not be
certain how powerful the Magic Belt might be -- Dorothy
closed her right eye and wiggled her left big toe and
drew a long breath and wished with all her might. The
next moment the room began to revolve again, as slowly
as before, and by degrees they all slid to the side
wall and down the wall to the floor -- all but Scraps,
who was so astonished that she still clung to the
chandelier. When the big hall was in its proper
position again and the others stood firmly upon the
floor of it, they looked far up to the dome and saw the
Patchwork Girl swinging from the chandelier.

"Good gracious!" cried Dorothy. "How ever will you
get down?"

"Won't the room keep turning?" asked Scraps.

"I hope not. I believe it has stopped for good," said
Princess Dorothy.

"Then stand from under, so you won't get hurt!"
shouted the Patchwork Girl, and as soon as they had
obeyed this request she let go the chandelier and came
tumbling down heels over head and twisting and turning
in a very exciting manner. Plump! she fell on the tiled
floor and they ran to her and rolled her and patted her
into shape again.




Chapter Twenty-Three

The Defiance of Ugu the Shoemaker


The delay caused by Scraps had prevented anyone from
running to the shelves to secure the magic instruments
so badly needed. Even Cayke neglected to get her
diamond-studded dishpan because she was watching the
Patchwork Girl. And now the magician had opened his
trap door and appeared in his golden cage again,
frowning angrily because his prisoners had been able to
turn their upside-down prison right-side-up.

"Which of you has dared defy my magic?" he shouted in
a terrible voice.

"It was I," answered Dorothy calmly.

"Then I shall destroy you, for you are only an Earth
girl and no fairy," he said, and began to mumble some
magic words.

Dorothy now realized that Ugu must be treated as an
enemy, so she advanced toward the corner in which he
sat, saying as she went:

"I am not afraid of you, Mr. Shoemaker, and I think
you'll be sorry, pretty soon, that you're such a bad
man. You can't destroy me and I won't destroy you, but
I'm going to punish you for your wickedness."

Ugu laughed a laugh that was not nice to hear, and
then he waved his hand. Dorothy was halfway across the
room when suddenly a wall of glass rose before her and
stopped her progress. Through the glass she could see
the magician sneering at her because she was a weak
little girl, and this provoked her. Although the glass
wall obliged her to halt she instantly pressed both
hands to her Magic Belt and cried in a loud voice:

"Ugu the Shoemaker, by the magic virtues of the Magic
Belt, I command you to become a dove!"

The magician instantly realized he was being
enchanted, for he could feel his form changing. He
struggled desperately against the enchantment, mumbling
magic words and making magic passes with his hands. And
in one way he succeeded in defeating Dorothy's purpose,
for while his form soon changed to that of a gray dove,
the dove was of an enormous size -- bigger even than
Ugu had been as a man -- and this feat he had been able
to accomplish before his powers of magic wholly
deserted him.

And the dove was not gentle, as doves usually are,
for Ugu was terribly enraged at the little girl's
success. His books had told him nothing of the Nome
King's Magic Belt, the Country of the Nomes being
outside the Land of Oz. He knew, however, that he was
likely to be conquered unless he made a fierce fight,
so he spread his wings and rose in the air and flew
directly toward Dorothy. The Wall of Glass had
disappeared the instant Ugu became transformed.

Dorothy had meant to command the Belt to transform
the magician into a Dove of Peace, but in her
excitement she forgot to say more than "dove," and now
Ugu was not a Dove of Peace by any means, but rather a
spiteful Dove of War. His size made his sharp beak and
claws very dangerous, but Dorothy was not afraid when
he came darting toward her with his talons outstretched
and his sword-like beak open. She knew the Magic Belt
would protect its wearer from harm.

But the Frogman did not know that fact and became
alarmed at the little girl's seeming danger. So he gave
a sudden leap and leaped full upon the back of the
great dove.

Then began a desperate struggle. The dove was as
strong as Ugu had been, and in size it was considerably
bigger than the Frogman. But the Frogman had eaten the
zosozo and it had made him fully as strong as Ugu the
Dove. At the first leap he bore the dove to the floor,
but the giant bird got free and began to bite and claw
the Frogman, beating him down with its great wings
whenever he attempted to rise. The thick, tough skin of
the big frog was not easily damaged, but Dorothy feared
for her champion and by again using the transformation
power of the Magic Belt she made the dove grow small,
until it was no larger than a canary bird.

Ugu had not lost his knowledge of magic when he lost
his shape as a man, and he now realized it was hopeless
to oppose the power of the Magic Belt and knew that his
only hope of escape lay in instant action. So he
quickly flew into the golden jeweled dishpan he had
stolen from Cayke the Cookie Cook and, as birds can
talk as well as beasts or men in the Fairyland of Oz,
he muttered the magic word that was required and wished
himself in the Country of the Quadlings -- which was as
far away from the wicker castle as he believed he could
get.

Our friends did not know, of course, what Ugu was
about to do. They saw the dishpan tremble an instant
and then disappear, the dove disappearing with it, and
although they waited expectantly for some minutes for
the magician's return, Ugu did not come back again.

"Seems to me," said the Wizard in a cheerful voice,
"that we have conquered the wicked magician more
quickly than we expected to."

"Don't say 'we' -- Dorothy did it!" cried the
Patchwork Girl, turning three somersaults in succession
and then walking around on her hands. "Hurrah for
Dorothy!"

"I thought you said you did not know how to use the
magic of the Nome King's Belt," said the Wizard to
Dorothy.

"I didn't know, at that time," she replied, "but
afterward I remembered how the Nome King once used the
Magic Belt to enchant people and transform 'em into
ornaments and all sorts of things; so I tried some
enchantments in secret and after a while I transformed
the Sawhorse into a potato-masher and back again, and
the Cowardly Lion into a pussycat and back again, and
then I knew the thing would work all right."

"When did you perform those enchantments?" asked the
Wizard, much surprised.

"One night when all the rest of you were asleep but
Scraps, and she had gone chasing moonbeams."

"Well," remarked the Wizard, "your discovery has
certainly saved us a lot of trouble, and we must all
thank the Frogman, too, for making such a good fight.
The dove's shape had Ugu's evil disposition inside it,
and that made the monster bird dangerous."

The Frogman was looking sad because the bird's talons
had torn his pretty clothes, but he bowed with much
dignity at this well deserved praise. Cayke, however,
had squatted on the floor and was sobbing bitterly.

"My precious dishpan is gone!" she wailed. "Gone,
just as I had found it again!"

"Never mind," said Trot, trying to comfort her, "it's
sure to be somewhere, so we'll cert'nly run across it
some day."

"Yes, indeed," added Betsy; "now that we have Ozma's
Magic Picture, we can tell just where the Dove went
with your dishpan."

They all approached the Magic Picture, and Dorothy
wished it to show the enchanted form of Ugu the
Shoemaker, wherever it might be. At once there appeared
in the frame of the Picture a scene in the far Quadling
Country, where the Dove was perched disconsolately on
the limb of a tree and the jeweled dishpan lay on the
ground just underneath the limb.

"But where is the place -- how far or how near?"
asked Cayke anxiously.

"The Book of Records will tell us that," answered the
Wizard. So they looked in the Great Book and read the
following:

"Ugu the Magician, being transformed
into a dove by Princess Dorothy of
Oz, has used the magic of the golden
dishpan to carry him instantly to the
northeast corner of the Quadling
Country."


"That's all right," said Dorothy. "Don't worry,
Cayke, for the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman are in
that part of the country, looking for Ozma, and they'll
surely find your dishpan."

"Good gracious!" exclaimed Button-Bright, "we've
forgot all about Ozma. Let's find out where the
magician hid her."

Back to the Magic Picture they trooped, but when they
wished to see Ozma, wherever she might be hidden, only
a round black spot appeared in the center of the
canvas.

"I don't see how that can be Ozma!" said Dorothy,
much puzzled.

"It seems to be the best the Magic Picture can do,
however," said the Wizard, no less surprised. "If it's
an enchantment, it looks as if the magician had
transformed Ozma into a chunk of pitch."




Chapter Twenty-Four

The Little Pink Bear Speaks Truly


For several minutes they all stood staring at the black
spot on the  canvas of  the Magic Picture, wondering
what it could mean.

"P'r'aps we'd better ask the little Pink Bear about
Ozma," suggested Trot.

"Pshaw!" said Button-Bright, "he don't know
anything."

"He never makes a mistake," declared the King.

"He did once, surely," said Betsy. "But perhaps he
wouldn't make a mistake again."

"He won't have the chance," grumbled the Bear King.

"We might hear what he has to say," said Dorothy. "It
won't do any harm to ask the Pink Bear where Ozma is."

"I will not have him questioned," declared the King,
in a surly voice. "I do not intend to allow my little
Pink Bear to be again insulted by your foolish doubts.
He never makes a mistake."

"Didn't he say Ozma was in that hole in the ground?"
asked Betsy.

"He did; and I am certain she was there," replied the
Lavender Bear.

Scraps laughed jeeringly and the others saw there was
no use arguing with the stubborn Bear King, who seemed
to have absolute faith in his Pink Bear. The Wizard,
who knew that magical things can usually be depended
upon, and that the little Pink Bear was able to answer
questions by some remarkable power of magic, thought it
wise to apologize to the Lavender Bear for the unbelief
of his friends, at the same time urging the King to
consent to question the Pink Bear once more. Cayke and
the Frogman also pleaded with the big Bear, who finally
agreed, although rather ungraciously, to put the little
Bear's wisdom to the test once more. So he sat the
little one on his knee and turned the crank and the
Wizard himself asked the questions in a very
respectful tone of voice.

"Where is Ozma?" was his first query.

"Here, in this room," answered the little Pink Bear.

They all looked around the room, but of course did
not see her.

"In what part of this room is she?" was the Wizard's
next question.

"In Button-Bright's pocket," said the little Pink
Bear.

This reply amazed them all, you may be sure, and
although the three girls smiled and Scraps yelled:
"Hoo-ray!" in derision, the Wizard seemed to consider
the matter with grave thoughtfulness.

"In which one of Button-Bright's pockets is Ozma?" he
presently inquired.

"In the lefthand jacket-pocket," said the little Pink
Bear.

"The pink one has gone crazy!" exclaimed Button-
Bright, staring hard at the little bear on the big
bear's knee.

"I am not so sure of that," declared the Wizard. "If
Ozma proves to be really in your pocket, then the
little Pink Bear spoke truly when he said Ozma was in
that hole in the ground. For at that time you were also
in the hole, and after we had pulled you out of it the
little Pink Bear said Ozma was not in the hole."

"He never makes a mistake," asserted the Bear King,
stoutly.

"Empty that pocket, Button-Bright, and let's see
what's in it," requested Dorothy.

So Button-Bright laid the contents of his left
jacket-pocket on the table. These proved to be a peg-
top, a bunch of string, a small rubber ball and a
golden peach-pit.

"What's this?" asked the Wizard, picking up the
peach-pit and examining it closely.

"Oh," said the boy, "I saved that to show to the
girls, and then forgot all about it. It came out of a
lonesome peach that I found in the orchard back yonder,
and which I ate while I was lost. It looks like gold,
and I never saw a peach-pit like it before."

"Nor I," said the Wizard, "and that makes it seem
suspicious."

All heads were bent over the golden peach-pit. The
Wizard turned it over several times and then took out
his pocket-knife and pried the pit open.

As the two halves fell apart a pink, cloud-like haze
came pouring from the golden peach-pit, almost filling
the big room, and from the haze a form took shape and
settled beside them. Then, as the haze faded away, a
sweet voice said: "Thank you, my friends!" and there
before them stood their lovely girl Ruler, Ozma of Oz.

With a cry of delight Dorothy rushed forward and
embraced her. Scraps turned gleeful flip flops all
around the room. Button-Bright gave a low whistle of
astonishment. The Frogman took off his tall hat and
bowed low before the beautiful girl who had been freed
from her enchantment in so startling a manner.

For a time no sound was heard beyond the low murmur
of delight that came from the amazed group, but
presently the growl of the big Lavender Bear grew
louder and he said in a tone of triumph:

"He never makes a mistake!"




Chapter Twenty-Five

Ozma of Oz


"It's funny," said Toto, standing before his friend the
Lion and wagging his tail, "but I've found my growl at
last! I am positive, now, that it was the cruel
magician who stole it."

"Let's hear your growl," requested the Lion.

"Gr-r-r-r-r-r!" said Toto.

"That is fine," declared the big beast. "It isn't as
loud or as deep as the growl of the big Lavender Bear,
but it is a very respectable growl for a small dog.
Where did you find it, Toto?"

"I was smelling in the corner, yonder," said Toto,
"when suddenly a mouse ran out -- and I growled!"

The others were all busy congratulating Ozma, who was
very happy at being released from the confinement of
the golden peach-pit, where the magician had placed her
with the notion that she never could be found or
liberated.

"And only to think," cried Dorothy, "that Button-
Bright has been carrying you in his pocket all this
time, and we never knew it!"

"The little Pink Bear told you," said the Bear King,
"but you wouldn't believe him."

"Never mind, my dears," said Ozma graciously; "all is
well that ends well, and you couldn't be expected to
know I was inside the peach-pit. Indeed, I feared I
would remain a captive much longer than I did, for Ugu
is a bold and clever magician and he had hidden me very
securely."

"You were in a fine peach," said Button-Bright; "the
best I ever ate."

"The magician was foolish to make the peach so
tempting," remarked the Wizard; "but Ozma would lend
beauty to any transformation."

"How did you manage to conquer Ugu the Shoemaker?"
inquired the girl Ruler of Oz.

Dorothy started to tell the story and Trot helped
her, and Button-Bright wanted to relate it in his own
way, and the Wizard tried to make it clear to Ozma, and
Betsy had to remind them of important things they left
out, and all together there was such a chatter that it
was a wonder that Ozma understood any of it. But she
listened patiently, with a smile on her lovely face at
their eagerness, and presently had gleaned all the
details of their adventures.

Ozma thanked the Frogman very earnestly for his
assistance and she advised Cayke the Cookie Cook to dry
her weeping eyes, for she promised to take her to the
Emerald City and see that her cherished dishpan was
restored to her. Then the beautiful Ruler took a chain
of emeralds from around her own neck and placed it
around the neck of the little Pink Bear.

"Your wise answers to the questions of my friends,"
said she, "helped them to rescue me. Therefore I am
deeply grateful to you and to your noble King."

The bead eyes of the little Pink Bear stared
unresponsive to this praise until the Big Lavender Bear
turned the crank in its side, when it said in its
squeaky voice:

"I thank Your Majesty."

"For my part," returned the Bear King, "I realize
that you were well worth saving, Miss Ozma, and so I am
much pleased that we could be of service to you. By
means of my Magic Wand I have been creating exact
images of your Emerald City and your Royal Palace, and
I must confess that they are more attractive than any
places I have ever seen -- not excepting Bear Center."

"I would like to entertain you in my palace,"
returned Ozma, sweetly, "and you are welcome to return
with me and to make me a long visit, if your bear
subjects can spare you from your own kingdom."

"As for that," answered the King, "my kingdom causes
me little worry, and I often find it somewhat tame and
uninteresting. Therefore I am in no hurry to return to
it and will be glad to accept your kind invitation.
Corporal Waddle may be trusted to care for my bears
in my absence."

"And you'll bring the little Pink Bear?" asked
Dorothy eagerly.

"Of course, my dear; I would not willingly part with
him."

They remained in the wicker castle for three days,
carefully packing all the magical things that had been
stolen by Ugu and also taking whatever in the way of
magic the shoemaker had inherited from his ancestors.

"For," said Ozma, "I have forbidden any of my
subjects except Glinda the Good and the Wizard of Oz to
practice magical arts, because they cannot be trusted
to do good and not harm. Therefore Ugu must never again
be permitted to work magic of any sort."

"Well," remarked Dorothy cheerfully, "a dove can't do
much in the way of magic, anyhow, and I'm going to keep
Ugu in the form of a dove until he reforms and becomes
a good and honest shoemaker."

When everything was packed and loaded on the backs of
the animals, they set out for the river, taking a more
direct route than that by which Cayke and the Frogman
had come. In this way they avoided the Cities of Thi
and Herku and Bear Center and after a pleasant journey
reached the Winkie River and found a jolly ferryman
who had a fine big boat and was willing to carry the
entire party by water to a place quite near to the
Emerald City.

The river had many windings and many branches, and
the journey did not end in a day, but finally the boat
floated into a pretty lake which was but a short
distance from Ozma's home. Here the jolly ferryman was
rewarded for his labors and then the entire party set
out in a grand procession to march to the Emerald City.

News that the Royal Ozma had been found spread
quickly throughout the neighborhood and both sides of
the road soon became lined with loyal subjects of the
beautiful and beloved Ruler. Therefore Ozma's ears
heard little but cheers and her eyes beheld little else
than waving handkerchiefs and banners during all the
triumphal march from the lake to the city's gates.

And there she met a still greater concourse, for all
the inhabitants of the Emerald City turned out to
welcome her return and several bands played gay music
and all the houses were decorated with flags and
bunting and never before were the people so joyous and
happy as at this moment when they welcomed home their
girl Ruler. For she had been lost and was now found
again, and surely that was cause for rejoicing.

Glinda was at the royal palace to meet the returning
party and the good Sorceress was indeed glad to have
her Great Book of Records returned to her, as well as
all the precious collection of magic instruments and
elixirs and chemicals that had been stolen from her
castle. Cap'n Bill and the Wizard at once hung the
Magic Picture upon the wall of Ozma's boudoir and the
Wizard was so light-hearted that he did several tricks
with the tools in his black bag to amuse his companions
and prove that once again he was a powerful wizard.

For a whole week there was feasting and merriment and
all sorts of joyous festivities at the palace, in honor
of Ozma's safe return. The Lavender Bear and the little
Pink Bear received much attention and were honored by
all, much to the Bear King's satisfaction. The Frogman
speedily became a favorite at the Emerald City and the
Shaggy Man and Tik-Tok and Jack Pumpkinhead, who had
now returned from their search, were very polite to the
big frog and made him feel quite at home. Even the
Cookie Cook, because she was a stranger and Ozma's
guest, was shown as much deference as if she had been a
queen.

"All the same, Your Majesty," said Cayke to Ozma, day
after day, with tiresome repetition, "I hope you will
soon find my jeweled dishpan, for never can I be quite
happy without it."




Chapter Twenty-Six

Dorothy Forgives


The gray dove which had once been Ugu the Shoemaker sat
on its tree in the far Quadling Country and moped,
chirping dismally and brooding over its misfortunes.
After a time the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman came
along and sat beneath the tree, paying no heed to the
mutterings of the gray dove.

The Tin Woodman took a small oilcan from his tin
pocket and carefully oiled his tin joints with it.
While he was thus engaged the Scarecrow remarked:

"I feel much better, dear comrade, since we found
that heap of nice dean straw and you stuffed me anew
with it"

"And I feel much better now that my joints are
oiled," returned the Tin Woodman, with a sigh of
pleasure. "You and I, friend Scarecrow, are much more
easily cared for than those clumsy meat people, who
spend half their time dressing in fine clothes and who
must live in splendid dwellings in order to be
contented and happy. You and I do not eat, and so we
are spared the dreadful bother of getting three meals a
day. Nor do we waste half our lives in sleep, a
condition that causes the meat people to lose al]
consciousness and become as thoughtless and helpless as
logs of wood."

"You speak truly," responded the Scarecrow, tucking
some wisps of straw into his breast with his padded
fingers. "I often feel sorry for the meat people, many
of whom are my friends. Even the beasts are happier
than they, for they require less to make them content.
And the birds are the luckiest creatures of all, for
they can fly swiftly where they will and find a home at
any place they care to perch; their food consists of
seeds and grains they gather from the fields and their
drink is a sip of water from some running brook. If I
could not be a Scarecrow or a Tin Woodman -- my next
choice would be to live as a bird does."

The gray dove had listened carefully to this speech
and seemed to find comfort in it, for it hushed its
moaning. And just then the Tin Woodman discovered
Cayke's dishpan, which was on the ground quite near to
him.

"Here is a rather pretty utensil," he said, taking it
in his tin hands to examine it, "but I would not care
to own it. Whoever fashioned it of gold and covered it
with diamonds did not add to its usefulness, nor do I
consider it as beautiful as the bright dishpans of tin
one usually sees. No yellow color is ever so handsome
as the silver sheen of tin," and he turned to look at
his tin legs and body with approval.

"I cannot quite agree with you there," replied the
Scarecrow. "My straw stuffing has a light yellow color,
and it is not only pretty to look at but it crunkles
most delightfully when I move."

"Let us admit that all colors are good in their
proper places," said the Tin Woodman, who was too kind-
hearted to quarrel; "but you must agree with me that a
dishpan that is yellow is unnatural. What shall we do
with this one, which we, have just found?"

"Let us carry it back to the Emerald City," suggested
the Scarecrow. "Some of our friends might like to have
it for a foot-bath, and in using it that way its golden
color and sparkling ornaments would not injure its
usefulness."

So they went away and took the jeweled dishpan with
them. And, after wandering through the country for a
day or so longer, they learned the news that Ozma had
been found. Therefore they straightaway returned to the
Emerald City and presented the dishpan to Princess Ozma
as a token of their joy that she had been restored to
them.

Ozma promptly gave the diamond-studded gold dishpan
to Cayke the Cookie Cook, who was so delighted at
regaining her lost treasure that she danced up and down
in glee and then threw her skinny arms around Ozma's
neck and kissed her gratefully. Cayke's mission was now
successfully accomplished, but she was having such a
good time at the Emerald City that she seemed in no
hurry to go back to the Country of the Yips.

It was several weeks after the dishpan had been
restored to the Cookie Cook when one day, as Dorothy
was seated in the royal gardens with Trot and Betsy
beside her, a gray dove came flying down and alighted
at the girl's feet.

"I am Ugu the Shoemaker," said the dove in a soft,
mourning voice, "and I have come to ask you to forgive
me for the great wrong I did in stealing Ozma and the
magic that belonged to her and to others."

"Are you sorry, then?" asked Dorothy, looking hard at
the bird.

"I am very sorry," declared Ugu. "I've been thinking
over my misdeeds for a long time, for doves have little
else to do but think, and I'm surprised that I was such
a wicked man and had so little regard for the rights of
others. I am now convinced that even had I succeeded in
making myself ruler of all Oz I should not have been
happy, for many days of quiet thought have shown me
that only those things one acquires honestly are able
to render one content."

"I guess that's so," said Trot.

"Anyhow," said Betsy, "the bad man seems truly sorry,
and if he has now become a good and honest man we ought
to forgive him."

"I fear I cannot become a good man again," said Ugu,
"for the transformation I am under will always keep me
in the form of a dove. But, with the kind forgiveness
of my former enemies, I hope to become a very good
dove, and highly respected."

"Wait here till I run for my Magic Belt," said
Dorothy, "and I'll transform you back to your reg'lar
shape in a jiffy."

"No don't do that!" pleaded the dove, fluttering its
wings in an excited way. "I only want your forgiveness;
I don't want to be a man again. As Ugu the Shoemaker I
was skinny and old and unlovely; as a dove I am quite
pretty to look at. As a man I was ambitious and cruel,
while as a dove I can be content with my lot and happy
in my simple life. I have learned to love the free and
independent life of a bird and I'd rather not change
back."

"Just as you like, Ugu," said Dorothy, resuming her
seat. "Perhaps you are right, for you're cert'nly a
better dove than you were a man, and if you should ever
backslide, an' feel wicked again, you couldn't do much
harm as a gray dove."

"Then you forgive me for all the trouble I caused
you?" he asked earnestly.

"Of course; anyone who's sorry just has to be
forgiven."

"Thank you," said the gray dove, and flew away again.





The Wonderful Oz Books by L. Frank Baum

The Wizard of Oz
The Land of Oz
Ozma of Oz
Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz
The Road to Oz
The Emerald City of Oz
The Patchwork Girl of Oz
Tik-Tok of Oz
The Scarecrow of Oz
Rinkitink in Oz
The Lost Princess of Oz
The Tin Woodman of Oz
The Magic of Oz
Glinda of Oz





End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of The Lost Princess of Oz, by
Baum