GLINDA OF OZ
In which are related the Exciting Experiences of Princess Ozma of Oz, and Dorothy, in their hazardous journey to the home of the Flatheads, and to the Magic Isle of the Skeezers, and how they were rescued from dire peril by the
sorcery of Glinda the
by L. FRANK BAUM
“Royal Historian of Oz”
is Dedicated to
Robert Stanton Baum
LIST OF CHAPTERS
1 The Call of Duty
2 Ozma and Dorothy
3 The Mist Maidens
4 The Magic Tent
5 The Magic Stairway
6 Flathead Mountain
7 The Magic Isle
8 Queen Coo-ee-oh
9 Lady Aurex
10 Under Water
11 The Conquest of the Skeezers
12 The Diamond Swan
13 The Alarm Bell
14 Ozma’s Counsellors
15 The Great Sorceress
16 The Enchanted Fishes
17 Under the Great Dome
18 The Cleverness of Ervic
19 Red Reera, the Yookoohoo..
20 A Puzzling Problem
21 The Three Adepts
22 The Sunken Island
23 The Magic Words
24 Glinda’s Triumph
The Call to Duty
Glinda, the good Sorceress of Oz, sat in the grand court of her palace, surrounded by her maids of honor — a hundred of the most beautiful girls of the Fairyland of Oz. The palace court was built of rare marbles, exquisitely polished. Fountains tinkled musically here and there; the vast colonnade, open to the south, allowed the maidens, as they raised their heads from their embroideries, to gaze upon a vista of rose-hued fields and groves of trees bearing fruits or laden with sweet-scented flowers. At times one of the girls would start a song, the others joining in the chorus, or one would rise and dance, gracefully swaying to the music of a harp played by a companion. And then Glinda smiled, glad to see her maids mixing play with work.
Presently among the fields an object was seen moving, threading the broad path that led to the castle gate. Some of the girls looked upon this object enviously; the Sorceress merely gave it a glance and nodded her stately head as if pleased, for it meant the coming of her friend and mistress — the only one in all the land that Glinda bowed to.
Then up the path trotted a wooden animal attached to a red wagon, and as the quaint steed halted at the gate there descended from the wagon two young girls, Ozma, Ruler of Oz, and her companion, Princess Dorothy. Both were dressed in simple white muslin gowns, and as they ran up the marble steps of the palace they laughed and chatted as gaily as if they were not the most important persons in the world’s loveliest fairyland.
The maids of honor had risen and stood with bowed heads to greet the royal Ozma, while Glinda came forward with outstretched arms to greet her guests.
“We’ve just come on a visit, you know,” said Ozma. “Both Dorothy and I were wondering how we should pass the day when we happened to think we’d not been to your Quadling Country for weeks, so we took the Sawhorse and rode straight here.”
“And we came so fast,” added Dorothy, “that our hair is blown all fuzzy, for the Sawhorse makes a wind of his own. Usually it’s a day’s journey from the Em’rald City, but I don’t s’pose we were two hours on the way.”
“You are most welcome,” said Glinda the Sorceress, and led them through the court to her magnificent reception hall. Ozma took the arm of her hostess, but Dorothy lagged behind, kissing some of the maids she knew best, talking with others, and making them all feel that she was their friend. When at last she joined Glinda and Ozma in the reception hall, she found them talking earnestly about the condition of the people, and how to make them more happy and contented — although they were already the happiest and most contented folks in all the world.
This interested Ozma, of course, but it didn’t interest Dorothy very much, so the little girl ran over to a big table on which was lying open Glinda’s Great Book of Records.
This Book is one of the greatest treasures in Oz, and the Sorceress prizes it more highly than any of her magical possessions. That is the reason it is firmly attached to the big marble table by means of golden chains, and whenever Glinda leaves home she locks the Great Book together with five jeweled padlocks, and carries the keys safely hidden in her bosom.
I do not suppose there is any magical thing in any fairyland to compare with the Record Book, on the pages of which are constantly being printed a record of every event that happens in any part of the world, at exactly the moment it happens. And the records are always truthful, although sometimes they do not give as many details as one could wish. But then, lots of things happen, and so the records have to be brief or even Glinda’s Great Book could not hold them all.
Glinda looked at the records several times each day, and Dorothy, whenever she visited the Sorceress, loved to look in the Book and see what was happening everywhere. Not much was recorded about the Land of Oz, which is usually peaceful and uneventful, but today Dorothy found something which interested her. Indeed, the printed letters were appearing on the page even while she looked.
“This is funny!” she exclaimed. “Did you know, Ozma, that there were people in your Land of Oz called Skeezers?”
“Yes,” replied Ozma, coming to her side, “I know that on Professor Wogglebug’s Map of the Land of Oz there is a place marked ‘Skeezer,’ but what the Skeezers are like I do not know. No one I know has ever seen them or heard of them. The Skeezer Country is ‘way at the upper edge of the Gillikin Country, with the sandy, impassable desert on one side and the mountains of Oogaboo on another side. That is a part of the Land of Oz of which I know very little.”
“I guess no one else knows much about it either, unless it’s the Skeezers themselves,” remarked Dorothy. “But the Book says: ‘The Skeezers of Oz have declared war on the Flatheads of Oz, and there is likely to be fighting and much trouble as the result.'”
“Is that all the Book says?” asked Ozma.
“Every word,” said Dorothy, and Ozma and Glinda both looked at the Record and seemed surprised and perplexed.
“Tell me, Glinda,” said Ozma, “who are the Flatheads?”
“I cannot, your Majesty,” confessed the Sorceress. “Until now I never have heard of them, nor have I ever heard the Skeezers mentioned. In the faraway corners of Oz are hidden many curious tribes of people, and those who never leave their own countries and never are visited by those from our favored part of Oz, naturally are unknown to me. However, if you so desire, I can learn through my arts of sorcery something of the Skeezers and the Flatheads.”
“I wish you would,” answered Ozma seriously. “You see, Glinda, if these are Oz people they are my subjects and I cannot allow any wars or troubles in the Land I rule, if I can possibly help it.”
“Very well, your Majesty,” said the Sorceress, “I will try to get some information to guide you. Please excuse me for a time, while I retire to my Room of Magic and Sorcery.”
“May I go with you?” asked Dorothy, eagerly.
“No, Princess,” was the reply. “It would spoil the charm to have anyone present.”
So Glinda locked herself in her own Room of Magic and Dorothy and Ozma waited patiently for her to come out again.
In about an hour Glinda appeared, looking grave and thoughtful.
“Your Majesty,” she said to Ozma, “the Skeezers live on a Magic Isle in a great lake. For that reason — because the Skeezers deal in magic — I can learn little about them.”
“Why, I didn’t know there was a lake in that part of Oz,” exclaimed Ozma. “The map shows a river running through the Skeezer Country, but no lake.”
“That is because the person who made the map never had visited that part of the country,” explained the Sorceress. “The lake surely is there, and in the lake is an island — a Magic Isle — and on that island live the people called the Skeezers.”
“What are they like?” inquired the Ruler of Oz.
“My magic cannot tell me that,” confessed Glinda, “for the magic of the Skeezers prevents anyone outside of their domain knowing anything about them.”
“The Flatheads must know, if they’re going to fight the Skeezers,” suggested Dorothy
“Perhaps so,” Glinda replied, “but I can get little information concerning the Flatheads, either. They are people who inhabit a mountain just south of the Lake of the Skeezers. The mountain has steep sides and a broad, hollow top, like a basin, and in this basin the Flatheads have their dwellings. They also are magic- workers and usually keep to themselves and allow no one from outside to visit them. I have learned that the Flatheads number about one hundred people — men, women and children — while the Skeezers number just one hundred and one.”
“What did they quarrel about, and why do they wish to fight one another?” was Ozma’s next question.
“I cannot tell your Majesty that,” said Glinda.
“But see here!” cried Dorothy, “it’s against the law for anyone but Glinda and the Wizard to work magic in the Land of Oz, so if these two strange people are magic-makers they are breaking the law and ought to be punished!” Ozma smiled upon her little friend.
“Those who do not know me or my laws,” she said, “cannot be expected to obey my laws. If we know nothing of the Skeezers or the Flatheads, it is likely that they know nothing of us.”
“But they ought to know, Ozma, and we ought to know. Who’s going to tell them, and how are we going to make them behave?”
“That,” returned Ozma, “is what I am now considering. What would you advise, Glinda?”
The Sorceress took a little time to consider this question, before she made reply. Then she said: “Had you not learned of the existence of the Flatheads and the Skeezers, through my Book of Records, you would never have worried about them or their quarrels. So, if you pay no attention to these peoples, you may never hear of them again.”
“But that wouldn’t be right,” declared Ozma. “I am Ruler of all the Land of Oz, which includes the Gillikin Country, the Quadling Country, the Winkie Country and the Munchkin Country, as well as the Emerald City, and being the Princess of this fairyland it is my duty to make all my people — wherever they may be — happy and content and to settle their disputes and keep them from quarreling. So, while the Skeezers and Flatheads may not know me or that I am their lawful Ruler, I now know that they inhabit my kingdom and are my subjects, so I would not be doing my duty if I kept away from them and allowed them to fight.”
“That’s a fact, Ozma,” commented Dorothy. “You’ve got to go up to the Gillikin Country and make these people behave themselves and make up their quarrels. But how are you going to do it?”
“That is what is puzzling me also, your Majesty,” said the Sorceress. “It may be dangerous for you to go into those strange countries, where the people are possibly fierce and warlike.”
“I am not afraid,” said Ozma, with a smile.
“‘Tisn’t a question of being ‘fraid,” argued Dorothy. “Of course we know you’re a fairy, and can’t be killed or hurt, and we know you’ve a lot of magic of your own to help you. But, Ozma dear, in spite of all this you’ve been in trouble before, on account of wicked enemies, and it isn’t right for the Ruler of all Oz to put herself in danger.”
“Perhaps I shall be in no danger at all,” returned Ozma, with a little laugh. “You mustn’t imagine danger, Dorothy, for one should only imagine nice things, and we do not know that the Skeezers and Flatheads are wicked people or my enemies. Perhaps they would be good and listen to reason.”
“Dorothy is right, your Majesty,” asserted the Sorceress. “It is true we know nothing of these faraway subjects, except that they intend to fight one another, and have a certain amount of magic power at their command. Such folks do not like to submit to interference and they are more likely to resent your coming among them than to receive you kindly and graciously, as is your due.”
“If you had an army to take with you,” added Dorothy, “it wouldn’t be so bad; but there isn’t such a thing as an army in all Oz.”
“I have one soldier,” said Ozma.
“Yes, the soldier with the green whiskers; but he’s dreadful ‘fraid of his gun and never loads it. I’m sure he’d run rather than fight. And one soldier, even if he were brave, couldn’t do much against two hundred and one Flatheads and Skeezers.”
“What then, my friends, would you suggest?” inquired Ozma.
“I advise you to send the Wizard of Oz to them, and let him inform them that it is against the laws of Oz to fight, and that you command them to settle their differences and become friends,” proposed Glinda. “Let the Wizard tell them they will be punished if they refuse to obey the commands of the Princess of all the Land of Oz.”
Ozma shook her head, to indicate that the advice was not to her satisfaction.
“If they refuse, what then?” she asked. “I should be obliged to carry out my threat and punish them, and that would be an unpleasant and difficult thing to do. I am sure it would be better for me to go peacefully, without an army and armed only with my authority as Ruler, and plead with them to obey me. Then, if they prove obstinate I could resort to other means to win their obedience.”
“It’s a ticklish thing, anyhow you look at it,” sighed Dorothy. “I’m sorry now that I noticed the Record in the Great Book.”
“But can’t you realize, my dear, that I must do my duty, now that I am aware of this trouble?” asked Ozma. “I am fully determined to go at once to the Magic Isle of the Skeezers and to the enchanted mountain of the Flatheads, and prevent war and strife between their inhabitants. The only question to decide is whether it is better for me to go alone, or to assemble a party of my friends and loyal supporters to accompany me.”
“If you go I want to go, too,” declared Dorothy. “Whatever happens it’s going to be fun — ’cause all excitement is fun — and I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
Neither Ozma nor Glinda paid any attention to this statement, for they were gravely considering the serious aspect of this proposed adventure.
“There are plenty of friends who would like to go with you,” said the Sorceress, “but none of them would afford your Majesty any protection in case you were in danger. You are yourself the most powerful fairy in Oz, although both I and the Wizard have more varied arts of magic at our command. However, you have one art that no other in all the world can equal — the art of winning hearts and making people love to bow to your gracious presence. For that reason I believe you can accomplish more good alone than with a large number of subjects in your train.”
“I believe that also,” agreed the Princess. “I shall be quite able to take care of myself, you know, but might not be able to protect others so well. I do not look for opposition, however. I shall speak to these people in kindly words and settle their dispute — whatever it may be — in a just manner.”
“Aren’t you going to take me?” pleaded Dorothy. “You’ll need some companion, Ozma.”
The Princess smiled upon her little friend.
“I see no reason why you should not accompany me,” was her reply. “Two girls are not very warlike and they will not suspect us of being on any errand but a kindly and peaceful one. But, in order to prevent war and strife between these angry peoples, we must go to them at once. Let us return immediately to the Emerald City and prepare to start on our journey early tomorrow morning.”
Glinda was not quite satisfied with this plan, but could not think of any better way to meet the problem. She knew that Ozma, with all her gentleness and sweet disposition, was accustomed to abide by any decision she had made and could not easily be turned from her purpose. Moreover she could see no great danger to the fairy Ruler of Oz in the undertaking, even though the unknown people she was to visit proved obstinate. But Dorothy was not a fairy; she was a little girl who had come from Kansas to live in the Land of Oz. Dorothy might encounter dangers that to Ozma would be as nothing but to an “Earth child” would be very serious.
The very fact that Dorothy lived in Oz, and had been made a Princess by her friend Ozma, prevented her from being killed or suffering any great bodily pain as long as she lived in that fairyland. She could not grow big, either, and would always remain the same little girl who had come to Oz, unless in some way she left that fairyland or was spirited away from it. But Dorothy was a mortal, nevertheless, and might possibly be destroyed, or hidden where none of her friends could ever find her. She could, for instance be cut into pieces, and the pieces, while still alive and free from pain, could be widely scattered; or she might be buried deep underground or “destroyed” in other ways by evil magicians, were she not properly protected. These facts Glinda was considering while she paced with stately tread her marble hall.
Finally the good Sorceress paused and drew a ring from her finger, handing it to Dorothy.
“Wear this ring constantly until your return,” she said to the girl. “If serious danger threatens you, turn the ring around on your finger once to the right and another turn to the left. That will ring the alarm bell in my palace and I will at once come to your rescue. But do not use the ring unless you are actually in danger of destruction. While you remain with Princess Ozma I believe she will be able to protect you from all lesser ills.”
“Thank you, Glinda,” responded Dorothy gratefully, as she placed the ring on her finger. “I’m going to wear my Magic Belt which I took from the Nome King, too, so I guess I’ll be safe from anything the Skeezers and Flatheads try to do to me.”
Ozma had many arrangements to make before she could leave her throne and her palace in the Emerald City, even for a trip of a few days, so she bade goodbye to Glinda and with Dorothy climbed into the Red Wagon. A word to the wooden Sawhorse started that astonishing creature on the return journey, and so swiftly did he run that Dorothy was unable to talk or do anything but hold tight to her seat all the way back to the Emerald City.
Ozma and Dorothy
Residing in Ozma’s palace at this time was a live Scarecrow, a most remarkable and intelligent creature who had once ruled the Land of Oz for a brief period and was much loved and respected by all the people. Once a Munchkin farmer had stuffed an old suit of clothes with straw and put stuffed boots on the feet and used a pair of stuffed cotton gloves for hands. The head of the Scarecrow was a stuffed sack fastened to the body, with eyes, nose, mouth and ears painted on the sack. When a hat had been put on the head, the thing was a good imitation of a man. The farmer placed the Scarecrow on a pole in his cornfield and it came to life in a curious manner. Dorothy, who was passing by the field, was hailed by the live Scarecrow and lifted him off his pole. He then went with her to the Emerald City, where the Wizard of Oz gave him some excellent brains, and the Scarecrow soon became an important personage.
Ozma considered the Scarecrow one of her best friends and most loyal subjects, so the morning after her visit to Glinda she asked him to take her place as Ruler of the Land of Oz while she was absent on a journey, and the Scarecrow at once consented without asking any questions.
Ozma had warned Dorothy to keep their journey a secret and say nothing to anyone about the Skeezers and Flatheads until their return, and Dorothy promised to obey. She longed to tell her girl friends, tiny Trot and Betsy Bobbin, of the adventure they were undertaking, but refrained from saying a word on the subject although both these girls lived with her in Ozma’s palace.
Indeed, only Glinda the Sorceress knew they were going, until after they had gone, and even the Sorceress didn’t know what their errand might be.
Princess Ozma took the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon, although she was not sure there was a wagon road all the way to the Lake of the Skeezers. The Land of Oz is a pretty big place, surrounded on all sides by a Deadly Desert which it is impossible to cross, and the Skeezer Country, according to the map, was in the farthest northwestern part of Oz, bordering on the north desert. As the Emerald City was exactly in the center of Oz, it was no small journey from there to the Skeezers.
Around the Emerald City the country is thickly settled in every direction, but the farther away you get from the city the fewer people there are, until those parts that border on the desert have small populations. Also those faraway sections are little known to the Oz people, except in the south, where Glinda lives and where Dorothy has often wandered on trips of exploration.
The least known of all is the Gillikin Country, which harbors many strange bands of people among its mountains and valleys and forests and streams, and Ozma was now bound for the most distant part of the Gillikin Country.
“I am really sorry,” said Ozma to Dorothy, as they rode away in the Red Wagon, “not to know more about the wonderful Land I rule. It is my duty to be acquainted with every tribe of people and every strange and hidden country in all Oz, but I am kept so busy at my palace making laws and planning for the comforts of those who live near the Emerald City, that I do not often find time to make long journeys.”
“Well,” replied Dorothy, “we’ll prob’bly find out a lot on this trip, and we’ll learn all about the Skeezers and Flatheads, anyhow. Time doesn’t make much diff’rence in the Land of Oz, ’cause we don’t grow up, or get old, or become sick and die, as they do other places; so, if we explore one place at a time, we’ll by-an’-by know all about every nook and corner in Oz.”
Dorothy wore around her waist the Nome King’s Magic Belt, which protected her from harm, and the Magic Ring which Glinda had given her was on her finger. Ozma had merely slipped a small silver wand into the bosom of her gown, for fairies do not use chemicals and herbs and the tools of wizards and sorcerers to perform their magic. The Silver Wand was Ozma’s one weapon of offense and defense and by its use she could accomplish many things.
They had left the Emerald City just at sunrise and the Sawhorse traveled very swiftly over the roads towards the north, but in a few hours the wooden animal had to slacken his pace because the farm houses had become few and far between and often there were no paths at all in the direction they wished to follow. At such times they crossed the fields, avoiding groups of trees and fording the streams and rivulets whenever they came to them. But finally they reached a broad hillside closely covered with scrubby brush, through which the wagon could not pass.
“It will be difficult even for you and me to get through without tearing our dresses,” said Ozma, “so we must leave the Sawhorse and the Wagon here until our return.”
“That’s all right,” Dorothy replied, “I’m tired riding, anyhow. Do you s’pose, Ozma, we’re anywhere near the Skeezer Country?”
“I cannot tell, Dorothy dear, but I know we’ve been going in the right direction, so we are sure to find it in time.”
The scrubby brush was almost like a grove of small trees, for it reached as high as the heads of the two girls, neither of whom was very tall. They were obliged to thread their way in and out, until Dorothy was afraid they would get lost, and finally they were halted by a curious thing that barred their further progress. It was a huge web — as if woven by gigantic spiders — and the delicate, lacy film was fastened stoutly to the branches of the bushes and continued to the right and left in the form of a half circle. The threads of this web were of a brilliant purple color and woven into numerous artistic patterns, but it reached from the ground to branches above the heads of the girls and formed a sort of fence that hedged them in.
“It doesn’t look very strong, though,” said Dorothy. “I wonder if we couldn’t break through.” She tried but found the web stronger than it seemed. All her efforts could not break a single thread.
“We must go back, I think, and try to get around this peculiar web,” Ozma decided.
So they turned to the right and, following the web found that it seemed to spread in a regular circle. On and on they went until finally Ozma said they had returned to the exact spot from which they had started. “Here is a handkerchief you dropped when we were here before,” she said to Dorothy.
“In that case, they must have built the web behind us, after we walked into the trap,” exclaimed the little girl.
“True,” agreed Ozma, “an enemy has tried to imprison us.”
“And they did it, too,” said Dorothy. “I wonder who it was.”
“It’s a spider-web, I’m quite sure,” returned Ozma, “but it must be the work of enormous spiders.”
“Quite right!” cried a voice behind them. Turning quickly around they beheld a huge purple spider sitting not two yards away and regarding them with its small bright eyes.
Then there crawled from the bushes a dozen more great purple spiders, which saluted the first one and said:
“The web is finished, O King, and the strangers are our prisoners.”
Dorothy did not like the looks of these spiders at all. They had big heads, sharp claws, small eyes and fuzzy hair all over their purple bodies.
“They look wicked,” she whispered to Ozma. “What shall we do?”
Ozma gazed upon the spiders with a serious face.
“What is your object in making us prisoners?” she inquired.
“We need someone to keep house for us,” answered the Spider King. “There is sweeping and dusting to be done, and polishing and washing of dishes, and that is work my people dislike to do. So we decided that if any strangers came our way we would capture them and make them our servants.”
“I am Princess Ozma, Ruler of all Oz,” said the girl with dignity.
“Well, I am King of all Spiders,” was the reply, “and that makes me your master. Come with me to my palace and I will instruct you in your work.”
“I won’t,” said Dorothy indignantly. “We won’t have anything to do with you.”
“We’ll see about that,” returned the Spider in a severe tone, and the next instant he made a dive straight at Dorothy, opening the claws in his legs as if to grab and pinch her with the sharp points. But the girl was wearing her Magic Belt and was not harmed. The Spider King could not even touch her. He turned swiftly and made a dash at Ozma, but she held her Magic Wand over his head and the monster recoiled as if it had been struck.
“You’d better let us go,” Dorothy advised him, “for you see you can’t hurt us.”
“So I see,” returned the Spider King angrily. “Your magic is greater than mine. But I’ll not help you to escape. If you can break the magic web my people have woven you may go; if not you must stay here and starve.” With that the Spider King uttered a peculiar whistle and all the spiders disappeared.
“There is more magic in my fairyland than I dreamed of,” remarked the beautiful Ozma, with a sigh of regret. “It seems that my laws have not been obeyed, for even these monstrous spiders defy me by means of Magic.”
“Never mind that now,” said Dorothy; “let’s see what we can do to get out of this trap.”
They now examined the web with great care and were amazed at its strength. Although finer than the finest silken hairs, it resisted all their efforts to work through, even though both girls threw all their weight against it.
“We must find some instrument which will cut the threads of the web,” said Ozma, finally. “Let us look about for such a tool.”
So they wandered among the bushes and finally came to a shallow pool of water, formed by a small bubbling spring. Dorothy stooped to get a drink and discovered in the water a green crab, about as big as her hand. The crab had two big, sharp claws, and as soon as Dorothy saw them she had an idea that those claws could save them.
“Come out of the water,” she called to the crab; “I want to talk to you.”
Rather lazily the crab rose to the surface and caught hold of a bit of rock. With his head above the water he said in a cross voice:
“What do you want?”
“We want you to cut the web of the purple spiders with your claws, so we can get through it,” answered Dorothy. “You can do that, can’t you?”
“I suppose so,” replied the crab. “But if I do what will you give me?”
“What do you wish?” Ozma inquired.
“I wish to be white, instead of green,” said the crab. “Green crabs are very common, and white ones are rare; besides the purple spiders, which infest this hillside, are afraid of white crabs. Could you make me white if I should agree to cut the web for you?”
“Yes,” said Ozma, “I can do that easily. And, so you may know I am speaking the truth, I will change your color now.”
She waved her silver wand over the pool and the crab instantly became snow-white — all except his eyes, which remained black. The creature saw his reflection in the water and was so delighted that he at once climbed out of the pool and began moving slowly toward the web, by backing away from the pool. He moved so very slowly that Dorothy cried out impatiently: “Dear me, this will never do!” Caching the crab in her hands she ran with him to the web.
She had to hold him up even then, so he could reach with his claws strand after strand of the filmy purple web, which he was able to sever with one nip.
When enough of the web had been cut to allow them to pass, Dorothy ran back to the pool and placed the white crab in the water, after which she rejoined Ozma. They were just in time to escape through the web, for several of the purple spiders now appeared, having discovered that their web had been cut, and had the girls not rushed through the opening the spiders would have quickly repaired the cuts and again imprisoned them.
Ozma and Dorothy ran as fast as they could and although the angry spiders threw a number of strands of web after them, hoping to lasso them or entangle them in the coils, they managed to escape and clamber to the top of the hill.
The Mist Maidens
From the top of the hill Ozma and Dorothy looked down into the valley beyond and were surprised to find it filled with a floating mist that was as dense as smoke. Nothing in the valley was visible except these rolling waves of mist, but beyond, on the other side, rose a grassy hill that appeared quite beautiful.
“Well,” said Dorothy, “what are we to do, Ozma? Walk down into that thick fog, an’ prob’bly get lost in it, or wait till it clears away?”
“I’m not sure it will clear away, however long we wait,” replied Ozma, doubtfully. “If we wish to get on, I think we must venture into the mist.”
“But we can’t see where we’re going, or what we’re stepping on,” protested Dorothy. “There may be dreadful things mixed up in that fog, an’ I’m scared just to think of wading into it.”
Even Ozma seemed to hesitate. She was silent and thoughtful for a little while, looking at the rolling drifts that were so gray and forbidding. Finally she said:
“I believe this is a Mist Valley, where these moist clouds always remain, for even the sunshine above does not drive them away. Therefore the Mist Maids must live here, and they are fairies and should answer my call.”
She placed her two hands before her mouth, forming a hollow with them, and uttered a clear, thrilling, bird- like cry. It floated far out over the mist waves and presently was answered by a similar sound, as of a far- off echo.
Dorothy was much impressed. She had seen many strange things since coming to this fairy country, but here was a new experience. At ordinary times Ozma was just like any little girl one might chance to meet — simple, merry, lovable as could be — yet with a certain reserve that lent her dignity in her most joyous moods. There were times, however, when seated on her throne and commanding her subjects, or when her fairy powers were called into use, when Dorothy and all others about her stood in awe of their lovely girl Ruler and realized her superiority.
Ozma waited. Presently out from the billows rose beautiful forms, clothed in fleecy, trailing garments of gray that could scarcely be distinguished from the mist. Their hair was mist-color, too; only their gleaming arms and sweet, pallid faces proved they were living, intelligent creatures answering the call of a sister fairy.
Like sea nymphs they rested on the bosom of the clouds, their eyes turned questioningly upon the two girls who stood upon the bank. One came quite near and to her Ozma said:
“Will you please take us to the opposite hillside? We are afraid to venture into the mist. I am Princess Ozma of Oz, and this is my friend Dorothy, a Princess of Oz.”
The Mist Maids came nearer, holding out their arms. Without hesitation Ozma advanced and allowed them to embrace her and Dorothy plucked up courage to follow. Very gently the Mist Maids held them. Dorothy thought the arms were cold and misty — they didn’t seem real at all — yet they supported the two girls above the surface of the billows and floated with them so swiftly to the green hillside opposite that the girls were astonished to find themselves set upon the grass before they realized they had fairly started.
“Thank you!” said Ozma gratefully, and Dorothy also added her thanks for the service.
The Mist Maids made no answer, but they smiled and waved their hands in good-bye as again they floated out into the mist and disappeared from view.
The Magic Tent
“Well,” said Dorothy with a laugh, “that was easier than I expected. It’s worth while, sometimes, to be a real fairy. But I wouldn’t like to be that kind, and live in a dreadful fog all the time.”
They now climbed the bank and found before them a delightful plain that spread for miles in all directions. Fragrant wild flowers were scattered throughout the grass; there were bushes bearing lovely blossoms and luscious fruits; now and then a group of stately trees added to the beauty of the landscape. But there were no dwellings or signs of life.
The farther side of the plain was bordered by a row of palms, and just in front of the palms rose a queerly shaped hill that towered above the plain like a mountain. The sides of this hill were straight up and down; it was oblong in shape and the top seemed flat and level.
“Oh, ho!” cried Dorothy; “I’ll bet that’s the mountain Glinda told us of, where the Flatheads live.”
“If it is,” replied Ozma, “the Lake of the Skeezers must be just beyond the line of palm trees. Can you walk that far, Dorothy?”
“Of course, in time,” was the prompt answer. “I’m sorry we had to leave the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon behind us, for they’d come in handy just now; but with the end of our journey in sight a tramp across these pretty green fields won’t tire us a bit.”
It was a longer tramp than they suspected, however, and night overtook them before they could reach the flat mountain. So Ozma proposed they camp for the night and Dorothy was quite ready to approve. She didn’t like to admit to her friend she was tired, but she told herself that her legs “had prickers in ’em,” meaning they had begun to ache.
Usually when Dorothy started on a journey of exploration or adventure, she carried with her a basket of food, and other things that a traveler in a strange country might require, but to go away with Ozma was quite a different thing, as experience had taught her. The fairy Ruler of Oz only needed her silver wand — tipped at one end with a great sparkling emerald — to provide through its magic all that they might need. Therefore Ozma, having halted with her companion and selected a smooth, grassy spot on the plain, waved her wand in graceful curves and chanted some mystic words in her sweet voice, and in an instant a handsome tent appeared before them. The canvas was striped purple and white, and from the center pole fluttered the royal banner of Oz.
“Come, dear,” said Ozma, taking Dorothy’s hand, “I am hungry and I’m sure you must be also; so let us go in and have our feast.”
On entering the tent they found a table set for two, with snowy linen, bright silver and sparkling glassware, a vase of roses in the center and many dishes of delicious food, some smoking hot, waiting to satisfy their hunger. Also, on either side of the tent were beds, with satin sheets, warm blankets and pillows filled with swansdown. There were chairs, too, and tall lamps that lighted the interior of the tent with a soft, rosy glow.
Dorothy, resting herself at her fairy friend’s command, and eating her dinner with unusual enjoyment, thought of the wonders of magic. If one were a fairy and knew the secret laws of nature and the mystic words and ceremonies that commanded those laws, then a simple wave of a silver wand would produce instantly all that men work hard and anxiously for through weary years. And Dorothy wished in her kindly, innocent heart, that all men and women could be fairies with silver wands, and satisfy all their needs without so much work and worry, for then, she imagined, they would have all their working hours to be happy in. But Ozma, looking into her friend’s face and reading those thoughts, gave a laugh and said:
“No, no, Dorothy, that wouldn’t do at all. Instead of happiness your plan would bring weariness to the world. If every one could wave a wand and have his wants fulfilled there would be little to wish for. There would be no eager striving to obtain the difficult, for nothing would then be difficult, and the pleasure of earning something longed for, and only to be secured by hard work and careful thought, would be utterly lost. There would be nothing to do you see, and no interest in life and in our fellow creatures. That is all that makes life worth our while — to do good deeds and to help those less fortunate than ourselves.”
“Well, you’re a fairy, Ozma. Aren’t you happy?” asked Dorothy
“Yes, dear, because I can use my fairy powers to make others happy. Had I no kingdom to rule, and no subjects to look after, I would be miserable. Also, you must realize that while I am a more powerful fairy than any other inhabitant of Oz, I am not as powerful as Glinda the Sorceress, who has studied many arts of magic that I know nothing of. Even the little Wizard of Oz can do some things I am unable to accomplish, while I can accomplish things unknown to the Wizard. This is to explain that I’m not all-powerful, by any means. My magic is simply fairy magic, and not sorcery or wizardry.”
“All the same,” said Dorothy, “I’m mighty glad you could make this tent appear, with our dinners and beds all ready for us.”
“Yes, it is indeed wonderful,” she agreed. “Not all fairies know that sort of magic, but some fairies can do magic that fills me with astonishment. I think that is what makes us modest and unassuming — the fact that our magic arts are divided, some being given each of us. I’m glad I don’t know everything, Dorothy, and that there still are things in both nature and in wit for me to marvel at.”
Dorothy couldn’t quite understand this, so she said nothing more on the subject and presently had a new reason to marvel. For when they had quite finished their meal table and contents disappeared in a flash.
“No dishes to wash, Ozma!” she said with a laugh. “I guess you’d make a lot of folks happy if you could teach ’em just that one trick.”
For an hour Ozma told stories, and talked with Dorothy about various people in whom they were interested. And then it was bedtime, and they undressed and crept into their soft beds and fell asleep almost as soon as their heads touched their pillows.
The Magic Stairway
The flat mountain looked much nearer in the clear light of the morning sun, but Dorothy and Ozma knew there was a long tramp before them, even yet. They finished dressing only to find a warm, delicious breakfast awaiting them, and having eaten they left the tent and started toward the mountain which was their first goal. After going a little way Dorothy looked back and found that the fairy tent had entirely disappeared. She was not surprised, for she knew this would happen.
“Can’t your magic give us a horse an’ wagon, or an automobile?” inquired Dorothy.
“No, dear; I’m sorry that such magic is beyond my power,” confessed her fairy friend.
“Perhaps Glinda could,” said Dorothy thoughtfully.
“Glinda has a stork chariot that carries her through the air,” said Ozma, “but even our great Sorceress cannot conjure up other modes of travel. Don’t forget what I told you last night, that no one is powerful enough to do everything.”
“Well, I s’pose I ought to know that, having lived so long in the Land of Oz,” replied Dorothy; “but I can’t do any magic at all, an’ so I can’t figure out e’zactly how you an’ Glinda an’ the Wizard do it.”
“Don’t try,” laughed Ozma. “But you have at least one magical art, Dorothy: you know the trick of winning all hearts.”
“No, I don’t,” said Dorothy earnestly. “If I really can do it, Ozma, I am sure I don’t know how I do it.”
It took them a good two hours to reach the foot of the round, flat mountain, and then they found the sides so steep that they were like the wall of a house.
“Even my purple kitten couldn’t climb ’em,” remarked Dorothy, gazing upward.
“But there is some way for the Flatheads to get down and up again,” declared Ozma; “otherwise they couldn’t make war with the Skeezers, or even meet them and quarrel with them.”
“That’s so, Ozma. Let’s walk around a ways; perhaps we’ll find a ladder or something.”
They walked quite a distance, for it was a big mountain, and as they circled around it and came to the side that faced the palm trees, they suddenly discovered an entrance way cut out of the rock wall. This entrance was arched overhead and not very deep because it merely led to a short flight of stone stairs.
“Oh, we’ve found a way to the top at last,” announced Ozma, and the two girls turned and walked straight toward the entrance. Suddenly they bumped against something and stood still, unable to proceed farther.
“Dear me!” exclaimed Dorothy, rubbing her nose, which had struck something hard, although she could not see what it was; “this isn’t as easy as it looks. What has stopped us, Ozma? Is it magic of some sort?”
Ozma was feeling around, her bands outstretched before her.
“Yes, dear, it is magic,” she replied. “The Flatheads had to have a way from their mountain top from the plain below, but to prevent enemies from rushing up the stairs to conquer them, they have built, at a small distance before the entrance a wall of solid stone, the stones being held in place by cement, and then they made the wall invisible.”
“I wonder why they did that?” mused Dorothy. “A wall would keep folks out anyhow, whether it could be seen or not, so there wasn’t any use making it invisible. Seems to me it would have been better to have left it solid, for then no one would have seen the entrance behind it. Now anybody can see the entrance, as we did. And prob’bly anybody that tries to go up the stairs gets bumped, as we did.”
Ozma made no reply at once. Her face was grave and thoughtful.
“I think I know the reason for making the wall invisible,” she said after a while. “The Flatheads use the stairs for coming down and going up. If there was a solid stone wall to keep them from reaching the plain they would themselves be imprisoned by the wall. So they had to leave some place to get around the wall, and, if the wall was visible, all strangers or enemies would find the place to go around it and then the wall would be useless. So the Flatheads cunningly made their wall invisible, believing that everyone who saw the entrance to the mountain would walk straight toward it, as we did, and find it impossible to go any farther. I suppose the wall is really high and thick, and can’t be broken through, so those who find it in their way are obliged to go away again.”
“Well,” said Dorothy, “if there’s a way around the wall, where is it?”
“We must find it,” returned Ozma, and began feeling her way along the wall. Dorothy followed and began to get discouraged when Ozma had walked nearly a quarter of a mile away from the entrance. But now the invisible wall curved in toward the side of the mountain and suddenly ended, leaving just space enough between the wall and the mountain for an ordinary person to pass through.
The girls went in, single file, and Ozma explained that they were now behind the barrier and could go back to the entrance. They met no further obstructions.
“Most people, Ozma, wouldn’t have figured this thing out the way you did,” remarked Dorothy. “If I’d been alone the invisible wall surely would have stumped me.”
Reaching the entrance they began to mount the stone stairs. They went up ten stairs and then down five stairs, following a passage cut from the rock. The stairs were just wide enough for the two girls to walk abreast, arm in arm. At the bottom of the five stairs the passage turned to the right, and they ascended ten more stairs, only to find at the top of the flight five stairs leading straight down again. Again the passage turned abruptly, this time to the left, and ten more stairs led upward.
The passage was now quite dark, for they were in the heart of the mountain and all daylight had been shut out by the turns of the passage. However, Ozma drew her silver wand from her bosom and the great jewel at its end gave out a lustrous, green-tinted light which lighted the place well enough for them to see their way plainly.
Ten steps up, five steps down, and a turn, this way or that. That was the program, and Dorothy figured that they were only gaining five stairs upward each trip that they made.
“Those Flatheads must be funny people,” she said to Ozma. “They don’t seem to do anything in a bold straightforward manner. In making this passage they forced everyone to walk three times as far as is necessary. And of course this trip is just as tiresome to the Flatheads as it is to other folks.”
“That is true,” answered Ozma; “yet it is a clever arrangement to prevent their being surprised by intruders. Every time we reach the tenth step of a flight, the pressure of our feet on the stone makes a bell ring on top of the mountain, to warn the Flatheads of our coming.”
“How do you know that?” demanded Dorothy, astonished.
“I’ve heard the bell ever since we started,” Ozma told her. “You could not hear it, I know, but when I am holding my wand in my hand I can hear sounds a great distance off.”
“Do you hear anything on top of the mountain ‘cept the bell?” inquired Dorothy
“Yes. The people are calling to one another in alarm and many footsteps are approaching the place where we will reach the flat top of the mountain.”
This made Dorothy feel somewhat anxious. “I’d thought we were going to visit just common, ordinary people,” she remarked, “but they’re pretty clever, it seems, and they know some kinds of magic, too. They may be dangerous, Ozma. P’raps we’d better stayed at home.”
Finally the upstairs-and-downstairs passage seemed coming to an end, for daylight again appeared ahead of the two girls and Ozma replaced her wand in the bosom of her gown. The last ten steps brought them to the surface, where they found themselves surrounded by such a throng of queer people that for a time they halted, speechless, and stared into the faces that confronted them.
Dorothy knew at once why these mountain people were called Flatheads. Their heads were really flat on top, as if they had been cut off just above the eyes and ears. Also the heads were bald, with no hair on top at all, and the ears were big and stuck straight out, and the noses were small and stubby, while the mouths of the Flatheads were well shaped and not unusual. Their eyes were perhaps their best feature, being large and bright and a deep violet in color.
The costumes of the Flatheads were all made of metals dug from their mountain. Small gold, silver, tin and iron discs, about the size of pennies, and very thin, were cleverly wired together and made to form knee trousers and jackets for the men and skirts and waists for the women. The colored metals were skillfully mixed to form stripes and checks of various sorts, so that the costumes were quite gorgeous and reminded Dorothy of pictures she had seen of Knights of old clothed armor.
Aside from their flat heads, these people were not really bad looking. The men were armed with bows and arrows and had small axes of steel stuck in their metal belts. They wore no hats nor ornaments.
When they saw that the intruders on their mountain were only two little girls, the Flatheads grunted with satisfaction and drew back, permitting them to see what the mountain top looked like. It was shaped like a saucer, so that the houses and other buildings — all made of rocks — could not be seen over the edge by anyone standing in the plain below.
But now a big fat Flathead stood before the girls and in a gruff voice demanded:
“What are you doing here? Have the Skeezers sent you to spy upon us?”
“I am Princess Ozma, Ruler of all the Land of Oz.”
“Well, I’ve never heard of the Land of Oz, so you may be what you claim,” returned the Flathead.
“This is the Land of Oz — part of it, anyway,” exclaimed Dorothy. “So Princess Ozma rules you Flathead people, as well as all the other people in Oz.”
The man laughed, and all the others who stood around laughed, too. Some one in the crowd called:
“She’d better not tell the Supreme Dictator about ruling the Flatheads. Eh, friends?”
“No, indeed!” they all answered in positive tones.
“Who is your Supreme Dictator?” answered Ozma.
“I think I’ll let him tell you that himself,” answered the man who had first spoken. “You have broken our laws by coming here; and whoever you are the Supreme Dictator must fix your punishment. Come along with me.”
He started down a path and Ozma and Dorothy followed him without protest, as they wanted to see the most important person in this queer country. The houses they passed seemed pleasant enough and each had a little yard in which were flowers and vegetables. Walls of rock separated the dwellings, and all the paths were paved with smooth slabs of rock. This seemed their only building material and they utilized it cleverly for every purpose.
Directly in the center of the great saucer stood a larger building which the Flathead informed the girls was the palace of the Supreme Dictator. He led them through an entrance hall into a big reception room, where they sat upon stone benches and awaited the coming of the Dictator. Pretty soon he entered from another room — a rather lean and rather old Flathead, dressed much like the others of this strange race, and only distinguished from them by the sly and cunning expression of his face. He kept his eyes half closed and looked through the slits of them at Ozma and Dorothy, who rose to receive him.
“Are you the Supreme Dictator of the Flatheads?” inquired Ozma.
“Yes, that’s me,” he said, rubbing his hands slowly together. “My word is law. I’m the head of the Flatheads on this flat headland.”
“I am Princess Ozma of Oz, and I have come from the Emerald City to –“
“Stop a minute,” interrupted the Dictator, and turned to the man who had brought the girls there. “Go away, Dictator Felo Flathead!” he commanded. “Return to your duty and guard the Stairway. I will look after these strangers.” The man bowed and departed, and Dorothy asked wonderingly:
“Is he a Dictator, too?”
“Of course,” was the answer. “Everybody here is a dictator of something or other. They’re all office holders. That’s what keeps them contented. But I’m the Supreme Dictator of all, and I’m elected once a year. This is a democracy, you know, where the people are allowed to vote for their rulers. A good many others would like to be Supreme Dictator, but as I made a law that I am always to count the votes myself, I am always elected.”
“What is your name?” asked Ozma.
“I am called the Su-dic, which is short for Supreme Dictator. I sent that man away because the moment you mentioned Ozma of Oz, and the Emerald City, I knew who you are. I suppose I’m the only Flathead that ever heard of you, but that’s because I have more brains than the rest.”
Dorothy was staring hard at the Su-dic.
“I don’t see how you can have any brains at all,” she remarked, “because the part of your head is gone where brains are kept.”
“I don’t blame you for thinking that,” he said. “Once the Flatheads had no brains because, as you say, there is no upper part to their heads, to hold brains. But long, long ago a band of fairies flew over this country and made it all a fairyland, and when they came to the Flatheads the fairies were sorry to find them all very stupid and quite unable to think. So, as there was no good place in their bodies in which to put brains the Fairy Queen gave each one of us a nice can of brains to carry in his pocket and that made us just as intelligent as other people. See,” he continued, “here is one of the cans of brains the fairies gave us.” He took from a pocket a bright tin can having a pretty red label on it which said: Concentrated Brains, Extra Quality.”
“And does every Flathead have the same kind of brains?” asked Dorothy.
“Yes, they’re all alike. Here’s another can.” From another pocket he produced a second can of brains.
“Did the fairies give you a double supply?” inquired Dorothy.
“No, but one of the Flatheads thought he wanted to be the Su-dic and tried to get my people to rebel against me, so I punished him by taking away his brains. One day my wife scolded me severely, so I took away her can of brains. She didn’t like that and went out and robbed several women of their brains. Then I made a law that if anyone stole another’s brains, or even tried to borrow them, he would forfeit his own brains to the Su- dic. So each one is content with his own canned brains and my wife and I are the only ones on the mountain with more than one can. I have three cans and that makes me very clever — so clever that I’m a good Sorcerer, if I do say it myself. My poor wife had four cans of brains and became a remarkable witch, but alas! that was before those terrible enemies, the Skeezers, transformed her into a Golden Pig.”
“Good gracious!” cried Dorothy; “is your wife really a Golden Pig?”
“She is. The Skeezers did it and so I have declared war on them. In revenge for making my wife a Pig I intend to ruin their Magic Island and make the Skeezers the slaves of the Flatheads!”
The Su-dic was very angry now; his eyes flashed and his face took on a wicked and fierce expression. But Ozma said to him, very sweetly and in a friendly voice:
“I am sorry to hear this. Will you please tell me more about your troubles with the Skeezers? Then perhaps I can help you.”
She was only a girl, but there was dignity in her pose and speech which impressed the Su-dic.
“If you are really Princess Ozma of Oz,” the Flathead said, “you are one of that band of fairies who, under Queen Lurline, made all Oz a Fairyland. I have heard that Lurline left one of her own fairies to rule Oz, and gave the fairy the name of Ozma.”
“If you knew this why did you not come to me at the Emerald City and tender me your loyalty and obedience?” asked the Ruler of Oz.
“Well, I only learned the fact lately, and I’ve been too busy to leave home,” he explained, looking at the floor instead of into Ozma’s eyes. She knew he had spoken a falsehood, but only said:
“Why did you quarrel with the Skeezers?”
“It was this way,” began the Su-dic, glad to change the subject. “We Flatheads love fish, and as we have no fish on this mountain we would sometimes go to the Lake of the Skeezers to catch fish. This made the Skeezers angry, for they declared the fish in their lake belonged to them and were under their protection and they forbade us to catch them. That was very mean and unfriendly in the Skeezers, you must admit, and when we paid no attention to their orders they set a guard on the shore of the lake to prevent our fishing.
“Now, my wife, Rora Flathead, having four cans of brains, had become a wonderful witch, and fish being brain food, she loved to eat fish better than any one of us. So she vowed she would destroy every fish in the lake, unless the Skeezers let us catch what we wanted. They defied us, so Rora prepared a kettleful of magic poison and went down to the lake one night to dump it all in the water and poison the fish. It was a clever idea, quite worthy of my dear wife, but the Skeezer Queen — a young lady named Coo-ee-oh — hid on the bank of the lake and taking Rora unawares, transformed her into a Golden Pig. The poison was spilled on the ground and wicked Queen Coo-ee-oh, not content with her cruel transformation, even took away my wife’s four cans of brains, so she is now a common grunting pig without even brains enough to know her own name.”
“Then,” said Ozma thoughtfully, “the Queen of the Skeezers must be a Sorceress.”
“Yes,” said the Su-dic, “but she doesn’t know much magic, after all. She is not as powerful as Rora Flathead was, nor half as powerful as I am now, as Queen Coo-ee-oh will discover when we fight our great battle and destroy her.”
“The Golden Pig can’t be a witch any more, of course,” observed Dorothy.
“No; even had Queen Coo-ee-oh left her the four cans of brains, poor Rora, in a pig’s shape, couldn’t do any witchcraft. A witch has to use her fingers, and a pig has only cloven hoofs.”
“It seems a sad story,” was Ozma’s comment, “and all the trouble arose because the Flatheads wanted fish that did not belong to them.”
“As for that,” said the Su-dic, again angry, “I made a law that any of my people could catch fish in the Lake of the Skeezers, whenever they wanted to. So the trouble was through the Skeezers defying my law.”
“You can only make laws to govern your own people,” asserted Ozma sternly. “I, alone, am empowered to make laws that must be obeyed by all the peoples of Oz.”
“Pooh!” cried the Su-dic scornfully. “You can’t make me obey your laws, I assure you. I know the extent of your powers, Princess Ozma of Oz, and I know that I am more powerful than you are. To prove it I shall keep you and your companion prisoners in this mountain until after we have fought and conquered the Skeezers. Then, if you promise to be good, I may let you go home again.”
Dorothy was amazed by this effrontery and defiance of the beautiful girl Ruler of Oz, whom all until now had obeyed without question. But Ozma, still unruffled and dignified, looked at the Su-dic and said:
“You did not mean that. You are angry and speak unwisely, without reflection. I came here from my palace in the Emerald City to prevent war and to make peace between you and the Skeezers. I do not approve of Queen Coo-ee-oh’s action in transforming your wife Rora into a pig, nor do I approve of Rora’s cruel attempt to poison the fishes in the lake. No one has the right to work magic in my dominions without my consent, so the Flatheads and the Skeezers have both broken my laws — which must be obeyed.”
“If you want to make peace,” said the Su-dic, “make the Skeezers restore my wife to her proper form and give back her four cans of brains. Also make them agree to allow us to catch fish in their lake.”
“No,” returned Ozma, “I will not do that, for it would be unjust. I will have the Golden Pig again transformed into your wife Rora, and give her one can of brains, but the other three cans must be restored to those she robbed. Neither may you catch fish in the Lake of the Skeezers, for it is their lake and the fish belong to them. This arrangement is just and honorable, and you must agree to it.”
“Never!” cried the Su-dic. Just then a pig came running into the room, uttering dismal grunts. It was made of solid gold, with joints at the bends of the legs and in the neck and jaws. The Golden Pig’s eyes were rubies, and its teeth were polished ivory.
“There!” said the Su-dic, “gaze on the evil work of Queen Coo-ee-oh, and then say if you can prevent my making war on the Skeezers. That grunting beast was once my wife — the most beautiful Flathead on our mountain and a skillful witch. Now look at her!”
“Fight the Skeezers, fight the Skeezers, fight the Skeezers!” grunted the Golden Pig.
“I will fight the Skeezers,” exclaimed the Flathead chief, “and if a dozen Ozmas of Oz forbade me I would fight just the same.”
“Not if I can prevent it!” asserted Ozma.
“You can’t prevent it. But since you threaten me, I’ll have you confined in the bronze prison until the war is over,” said the Su-dic. He whistled and four stout Flatheads, armed with axes and spears, entered the room and saluted him. Turning to the men he said: “Take these two girls, bind them with wire ropes and cast them into the bronze prison.”
The four men bowed low and one of them asked:
“Where are the two girls, most noble Su-dic?”
The Su-dic turned to where Ozma and Dorothy had stood but they had vanished!
The Magic Isle
Ozma, seeing it was useless to argue with the Supreme Dictator of the Flatheads. had been considering how best to escape from his power. She realized that his sorcery might be difficult to overcome, and when he threatened to cast Dorothy and her into a bronze prison she slipped her hand into her bosom and grasped her silver wand. With the other hand she grasped the hand of Dorothy, but these motions were so natural that the Su-dic did not notice them. Then when he turned to meet his four soldiers, Ozma instantly rendered both herself and Dorothy invisible and swiftly led her companion around the group of Flatheads and out of the room. As they reached the entry and descended the stone steps, Ozma whispered:
“Let us run, dear! We are invisible, so no one will see us.”
Dorothy understood and she was a good runner. Ozma had marked the place where the grand stairway that led to the plain was located, so they made directly for it. Some people were in the paths but these they dodged around. One or two Flatheads heard the pattering of footsteps of the girls on the stone pavement and stopped with bewildered looks to gaze around them, but no one interfered with the invisible fugitives.
The Su-dic had lost no time in starting the chase. He and his men ran so fast that they might have overtaken the girls before they reached the stairway had not the Golden Pig suddenly run across their path. The Su-dic tripped over the pig and fell flat, and his four men tripped over him and tumbled in a heap. Before they could scramble up and reach the mouth of the passage it was too late to stop the two girls.
There was a guard on each side of the stairway, but of course they did not see Ozma and Dorothy as they sped past and descended the steps. Then they had to go up five steps and down another ten, and so on, in the same manner in which they had climbed to the top of the mountain. Ozma lighted their way with her wand and they kept on without relaxing their speed until they reached the bottom. Then they ran to the right and turned the corner of the invisible wall just as the Su-dic and his followers rushed out of the arched entrance and looked around in an attempt to discover the fugitives.
Ozma now knew they were safe, so she told Dorothy to stop and both of them sat down on the grass until they could breathe freely and become rested from their mad flight.
As for the Su-dic, he realized he was foiled and soon turned and climbed his stairs again. He was very angry — angry with Ozma and angry with himself — because, now that he took time to think, he remembered that he knew very well the art of making people invisible, and visible again, and if he had only thought of it in time he could have used his magic knowledge to make the girls visible and so have captured them easily. However, it was now too late for regrets and he determined to make preparations at once to march all his forces against the Skeezers.
“What shall we do next?” asked Dorothy, when they were rested.
“Let us find the Lake of the Skeezers,” replied Ozma. “From what that dreadful Su-dic said I imagine the Skeezers are good people and worthy of our friendship, and if we go to them we may help them to defeat the Flatheads.”
“I s’pose we can’t stop the war now,” remarked Dorothy reflectively, as they walked toward the row of palm trees.
“No; the Su-dic is determined to fight the Skeezers, so all we can do is to warn them of their danger and help them as much as possible.”
“Of course you’ll punish the Flatheads,” said Dorothy.
“Well, I do not think the Flathead people are as much to blame as their Supreme Dictator,” was the answer. “If he is removed from power and his unlawful magic taken from him, the people will probably be good and respect the laws of the Land of Oz, and live at peace with all their neighbors in the future.”
“I hope so,” said Dorothy with a sigh of doubt
The palms were not far from the mountain and the girls reached them after a brisk walk. The huge trees were set close together, in three rows, and had been planted so as to keep people from passing them, but the Flatheads had cut a passage through this barrier and Ozma found the path and led Dorothy to the other side.
Beyond the palms they discovered a very beautiful scene. Bordered by a green lawn was a great lake fully a mile from shore to shore, the waters of which were exquisitely blue and sparkling, with little wavelets breaking its smooth surface where the breezes touched it. In the center of this lake appeared a lovely island, not of great extent but almost entirely covered by a huge round building with glass walls and a high glass dome which glittered brilliantly in the sunshine. Between the glass building and the edge of the island was no grass, flowers or shrubbery, but only an expanse of highly polished white marble. There were no boats on either shore and no signs of life could be seen anywhere on the island.
“Well,” said Dorothy, gazing wistfully at the island, we’ve found the Lake of the Skeezers and their Magic Isle. I guess the Skeezers are in that big glass palace, but we can’t get at ’em.”
Princess Ozma considered the situation gravely. Then she tied her handkerchief to her wand and, standing at the water’s edge, waved the handkerchief like a flag, as a signal. For a time they could observe no response.
“I don’t see what good that will do,” said Dorothy. “Even if the Skeezers are on that island and see us, and know we’re friends, they haven’t any boats to come and get us.”
But the Skeezers didn’t need boats, as the girls soon discovered. For on a sudden an opening appeared at the base of the palace and from the opening came a slender shaft of steel, reaching out slowly but steadily across the water in the direction of the place where they stood. To the girls this steel arrangement looked like a triangle, with the base nearest the water. It came toward them in the form of an arch, stretching out from the palace wall until its end reached the bank and rested there, while the other end still remained on the island.
Then they saw that it was a bridge, consisting of a steel footway just broad enough to walk on, and two slender guide rails, one on either side, which were connected with the footway by steel bars. The bridge looked rather frail and Dorothy feared it would not bear their weight, but Ozma at once called, “Come on!” and started to walk across, holding fast to the rail on either side. So Dorothy summoned her courage and followed after. Before Ozma had taken three steps she halted and so forced Dorothy to halt, for the bridge was again moving and returning to the island.
“We need not walk after all,” said Ozma. So they stood still in their places and let the steel bridge draw them onward. Indeed, the bridge drew them well into the glass-domed building which covered the island, and soon they found themselves standing in a marble room where two handsomely dressed young men stood on a platform to receive them.
Ozma at once stepped from the end of the bridge to the marble platform, followed by Dorothy, and then the bridge disappeared with a slight clang of steel and a marble slab covered the opening from which it had emerged.
The two young men bowed profoundly to Ozma, and one of them said:
“Queen Coo-ee-oh bids you welcome, O Strangers. Her Majesty is waiting to receive you in her palace.”
“Lead on,” replied Ozma with dignity.
But instead of “leading on,” the platform of marble began to rise, carrying them upward through a square hole above which just fitted it. A moment later they found themselves within the great glass dome that covered almost all of the island.
Within this dome was a little village, with houses, streets, gardens and parks. The houses were of colored marbles, prettily designed, with many stained-glass windows, and the streets and gardens seemed well cared for. Exactly under the center of the lofty dome was a small park filled with brilliant flowers, with an elaborate fountain, and facing this park stood a building larger and more imposing than the others. Toward this building the young men escorted Ozma and Dorothy.
On the streets and in the doorways or open windows of the houses were men, women and children, all richly dressed. These were much like other people in different parts of the Land of Oz, except that instead of seeming merry and contented they all wore expressions of much solemnity or of nervous irritation. They had beautiful homes, splendid clothes, and ample food, but Dorothy at once decided something was wrong with their lives and that they were not happy. She said nothing, however, but looked curiously at the Skeezers.
At the entrance of the palace Ozma and Dorothy were met by two other young men, in uniform and armed with queer weapons that seemed about halfway between pistols and guns, but were like neither. Their conductors bowed and left them, and the two in uniforms led the girls into the palace.
In a beautiful throne room, surrounded by a dozen or more young men and women, sat the Queen of the Skeezers, Coo-ee-oh. She was a girl who looked older than Ozma or Dorothy — fifteen or sixteen, at least — and although she was elaborately dressed as if she were going to a ball she was too thin and plain of feature to be pretty. But evidently Queen Coo-ee-oh did not realize this fact, for her air and manner betrayed her as proud and haughty and with a high regard for her own importance. Dorothy at once decided she was “snippy” and that she would not like Queen Coo-ee-oh as a companion.
The Queen’s hair was as black as her skin was white and her eyes were black, too. The eyes, as she calmly examined Ozma and Dorothy, had a suspicious and unfriendly look in them, but she said quietly:
“I know who you are, for I have consulted my Magic Oracle, which told me that one calls herself Princess Ozma, the Ruler of all the Land of Oz, and the other is Princess Dorothy of Oz, who came from a country called Kansas. I know nothing of the Land of Oz, and I know nothing of Kansas.”
“Why, this is the Land of Oz!” cried Dorothy. “It’s a part of the Land of Oz, anyhow, whether you know it or not.”
“Oh, in-deed!” answered Queen Coo-ee-oh, scornfully. “I suppose you will claim next that this Princess Ozma, ruling the Land of Oz, rules me!”
“Of course,” returned Dorothy. “There’s no doubt of it.”
The Queen turned to Ozma.
“Do you dare make such a claim?” she asked.
By this time Ozma had made up her mind as to the character of this haughty and disdainful creature, whose self-pride evidently led her to believe herself superior to all others.
“I did not come here to quarrel with your Majesty,” said the girl Ruler of Oz, quietly. “What and who I am is well established, and my authority comes from the Fairy Queen Lurline, of whose band I was a member when Lurline made all Oz a Fairyland. There are several countries and several different peoples in this broad land, each of which has its separate rulers, Kings, Emperors and Queens. But all these render obedience to my laws and acknowledge me as the supreme Ruler.”
“If other Kings and Queens are fools that does not interest me in the least,” replied Coo-ee-oh, disdainfully. “In the Land of the Skeezers I alone am supreme. You are impudent to think I would defer to you — or to anyone else.”
“Let us not speak of this now, please,” answered Ozma. “Your island is in danger, for a powerful foe is preparing to destroy it.”
“Pah! The Flatheads. I do not fear them.”
“Their Supreme Dictator is a Sorcerer.”
“My magic is greater than his. Let the Flatheads come! They will never return to their barren mountain- top. I will see to that.”
Ozma did not like this attitude, for it meant that the Skeezers were eager to fight the Flatheads, and Ozma’s object in coming here was to prevent fighting and induce the two quarrelsome neighbors to make peace. She was also greatly disappointed in Coo-ee-oh, for the reports of Su-dic had led her to imagine the Queen more just and honorable than were the Flatheads. Indeed Ozma reflected that the girl might be better at heart than her self-pride and overbearing manner indicated, and in any event it would be wise not to antagonize her but to try to win her friendship.
“I do not like wars, your Majesty,” said Ozma. “In the Emerald City, where I rule thousands of people, and in the countries near to the Emerald City, where thousands more acknowledge my rule, there is no army at all, because there is no quarreling and no need to fight. If differences arise between my people, they come to me and I judge the cases and award justice to all. So, when I learned there might be war between two faraway people of Oz, I came here to settle the dispute and adjust the quarrel.”
“No one asked you to come,” declared Queen Coo-ee-oh. “It is my business to settle this dispute, not yours. You say my island is a part of the Land of Oz, which you rule, but that is all nonsense, for I’ve never heard of the Land of Oz, nor of you. You say you are a fairy, and that fairies gave you command over me. I don’t believe it! What I do believe is that you are an impostor and have come here to stir up trouble among my people, who are already becoming difficult to manage. You two girls may even be spies of the vile Flatheads, for all I know, and may be trying to trick me. But understand this,” she added, proudly rising from her jeweled throne to confront them, “I have magic powers greater than any fairy possesses, and greater than any Flathead possesses. I am a Krumbic Witch — the only Krumbic Witch in the world — and I fear the magic of no other creature that exists! You say you rule thousands. I rule one hundred and one Skeezers. But every one of them trembles at my word. Now that Ozma of Oz and Princess Dorothy are here, I shall rule one hundred and three subjects, for you also shall bow before my power. More than that, in ruling you I also rule the thousands you say you rule.”
Dorothy was very indignant at this speech.
“I’ve got a pink kitten that sometimes talks like that,” she said, “but after I give her a good whipping she doesn’t think she’s so high and mighty after all. If you only knew who Ozma is you’d be scared to death to talk to her like that!”
Queen Coo-ee-oh gave the girl a supercilious look. Then she turned again to Ozma.
“I happen to know,” said she, “that the Flatheads intend to attack us tomorrow, but we are ready for them. Until the battle is over, I shall keep you two strangers prisoners on my island, from which there is no chance for you to escape.”
She turned and looked around the band of courtiers who stood silently around her throne.
“Lady Aurex,” she continued, singling out one of the young women, “take these children to your house and care for them, giving them food and lodging. You may allow them to wander anywhere under the Great Dome, for they are harmless. After I have attended to the Flatheads I will consider what next to do with these foolish girls.”
She resumed her seat and the Lady Aurex bowed low and said in a humble manner:
“I obey your Majesty’s commands.” Then to Ozma and Dorothy she added, “Follow me,” and turned to leave the throne room.
Dorothy looked to see what Ozma would do. To her surprise and a little to her disappointment Ozma turned and followed Lady Aurex. So Dorothy trailed after them, but not without giving a parting, haughty look toward Queen Coo-ee-oh, who had her face turned the other way and did not see the disapproving look
Lady Aurex led Ozma and Dorothy along a street to a pretty marble house near to one edge of the great glass dome that covered the village. She did not speak to the