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                        THE WISHING HORSE OF OZ

                                  By
                         RUTH PLUMLY THOMPSON
            Founded on and continuing the Famous Oz Stories

                                  By
                             L. FRANK BAUM
                        "Royal Historian of Oz"

                            Illustrated by
                             JOHN R. NEILL

                         The Reilly & Lee Co.
                                CHICAGO
                            COPYRIGHT, 1935
                                  by
                         The REILLY & LEE CO.

                          ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

                         PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Dear Boys and Girls:_

_What could be more interesting than an Oz mystery? What, indeed?
"Why," I can almost hear you shout, "Two Oz mysteries." And here you
have them in this newest Oz story, two very mysterious mysteries to
solve and ponder over and so many new Kingdoms and characters, I can
hardly remember the proper spelling for their names._

_You will be glad to know that Dorothy has most of the strange
adventures in this book and remember Pigasus? Well, I have long
suspected Pigasus could be useful as well as poetical, and now that he
has so convincingly proved his prowess (how do you like THAT word?)
we'll have to treat him with more respect and dignity._

_Your letters all year have been grand and if I had the magic necklace
mentioned in this story I would wish you three hundred and sixty-five
days of happiness._

_But after all, I HAVE a magic necklace. Each boy or girl who reads
the Oz books is one shining link in the friendly chain that holds us
together. All friends and all for Oz._

    _You believe in Oz and I'll believe in YOU
    Ho, that's the stuff that's strong enough
    To make my wish come true.

_So, happy year to you, dears. And next year? Ah well, who knows what
will happen next year? Another Oz book maybe, if you still want one.
Write me if you do, and best of everything wonderful to you all,
always!_

    RUTH PLUMLY THOMPSON.
    110 Schoolhouse Lane, Ardmore, Pennsylvania

       *       *       *       *       *

            THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED WITH PRIDE AND AFFECTION

                       TO MABEL HAMMER ASSHETON

WHOSE GALLANT AND ADVENTUROUS SPIRIT SWEEPS LIKE A FRESHENING
BREEZE THROUGH MY LIFE, TOUCHING IT AGAIN AND AGAIN WITH COLOR, VIGOR,
INTEREST AND GAIETY. TO MABEL!!

                         Ruth Plumly Thompson

       *       *       *       *       *

                           LIST OF CHAPTERS


        1  The King of Skampavia

        2  The King and the Merchant

        3  More About the Emeralds

        4  The King and His Talking Horse

        5  A Great Celebration in Oz

        6  A Strange Warning

        7  What Wizard?

        8  Way for the Emperor!

        9  The Journey Begins

       10  The Witch of the Black Forest

       11  Black Magic

       12  Farewell to the Black Forest

       13  In Kalico's Castle

       14  The Emperor of Oz

       15  The Dooners!

       16  The Seer of Some Summit

       17  Skamperoo in Oz

       18  The Emperor's Horse Makes a Bargain

       19  The Story of the Necklaces

       20  Back in Skampavia




CHAPTER 1

The King of Skampavia


"Is this all?" The King of Skampavia frowned at the great stack of
bags, bales, crates and carriers heaped around his throne. Leaning
forward, he gingerly extracted a fig from one of the baskets and popped
it into his enormous mouth.

"Pah, dry as a blotter," spluttered the red-faced ruler, gritting his
teeth with disgust, "and look at those cocoanuts, no bigger round than
a baby's rattle!" Leaping off his throne, he began kicking at the
baskets of vegetables and bales of cotton and other merchandise. "What
dusty junk is this?" he raged, glaring furiously at Pinny Penny, his
patient Prime Minister. "How dare they send me such stuff?" Clasping
and unclasping his hands nervously, Pinny Penny nevertheless spoke up
boldly.

"Because they have nothing better, your Majesty. What can our poor
subjects do with land so unprofitable and barren? Then, not only must
they produce enough for their own needs, but are required by the law to
give one-third of all they raise to the crown."

"And why not?" blustered Skamperoo, settling back argumentatively on
his throne. "I am the KING! You can't get around that, you know."

"No," sighed Pinny Penny, and drawing aside one of the shabby curtains
he looked sorrowfully out into the courtyard.

"What's all that racket?" demanded his Master, as a medley of shouts,
roars, and dull thuds came rolling up to them. Forgetting his anger for
a moment, he bounded to his feet and came across the room to look over
Pinny Penny's shoulder.

"A slight argument seems to have arisen among the Supervisors,"
murmured Pinny Penny resignedly.

Now Skampavia, I must tell you, is roughly divided into seven
counties, and over each county Skamperoo had set a Supervisor whose
duty it was to govern the province and to turn over to him one-third of
all produce and merchandise in that county. To save time, and easily
identify them, the supervisors were known by the size of the counties
they governed. For instance, the Supervisor of the First County,
which was one mile wide and ten miles long, was called Onebyten;
the Supervisor of the Second County Twobyfour; and the others were
variously known as Threebysix, Ninebyfive, Eightbyeight, Fivebynine and
Fourbyseven. Twice a year the Supervisors rode into the capital with
their tribute, and now, down in the courtyard, the seven tremendous
Skampavians were in a perfect pitched battle, helped out by all the
guards and palace servants.

"Argument!" roared the King, slapping Pinny Penny rudely on the
shoulder. "It's a fight, and you know it! Ho, ho! Just look at the
good-for-nothing rascals. I tell you, old Two Pins, however poorly
they serve us as farmers and merchants, our Skampavians can certainly
fight. And who says I'm too hard on them? Have I not given every man
Jack a dress uniform and gun and made them learn military drilling and
marching at the Royal College?"

"And what use is all this drilling and marching?" inquired Pinny Penny
wearily. Letting the curtain fall, he hurried away, for well he knew,
if he did not put a stop to the conflict in the courtyard every window
in the palace would be broken.

"Now what did he mean by that?" muttered Skamperoo peevishly as his
little Prime Minister whisked out of sight. Pursing his lips, he seated
himself heavily on his throne. After all, Pinny Penny had only spoken
the truth. Why had his father or his father's father ever picked out
this pesky little country in the first place? Located in the southern
part of the desert of Noland, between the Kingdoms of Ix and Merryland,
Skampavia, he was forced to admit, had neither riches, beauty, nor
interest. His castle, though poor and shabby, was comfortable enough,
and having lived in it all his life, he was used to it. He had put up
with the hot dry climate and the poor quality of the food, but after
all, why should he continue to do so? In those long ago days in the
school room he had studied of energetic rulers who had taken their
armies and gone forth to conquer richer and more desirable lands from
their neighbors. Well, then, why should not he take his men, push over
the border into a more fertile and kindly land? The idea pleased but
at the same time annoyed him. Skamperoo was fat and lazy. He loved
quiet and ease and the thought of a hard military campaign made him
shudder with distaste. Still, he reflected, remembering Pinny Penny's
reproachful face, a King should do something for his subjects and
the more he did for them--Ho, ho! the more he could make them do for
him. A rich and prosperous country meant a rich and prosperous ruler.
Discontentedly fingering the rough cloth from which his royal robes
were fashioned, he began to picture himself decked out in splendid
satins and velvets heavily encrusted with jewels. Jewels. Pah! All
the jewels he had were his plain gold scepter, badly dented and bent
from hurling at Pinny Penny. Taking off the crown, he scowled at it
critically and began considering the realms on either side of his own
dominions.

To the north there was nothing but a sandy strip of desert and the
tossing waters of the Nonestic Ocean. East lay the Kingdom of Ix, and
Zixie the little Queen he considered too pleasant and friendly to
conquer. Besides, the climate of Ix was not much better than that of
his own country. To the west of Skampavia was Merryland and at one
time a band of his roistering Skampavians had crossed over into that
country bent on theft and mischief. Recalling the way they had been
welcomed and entertained by the cheerful King of Merryland and sent
home simply laden with presents, he hastily dismissed that country too.
How could he fight a monarch like that? To the south lay the burning
sands of the Deadly Desert, which no man in his own Kingdom had ever
succeeded in crossing.

So, having exhausted all the possibilities in the immediate
neighborhood, Skamperoo tapped his foot in vexation and began casting
about in his mind for some fair and faraway country to conquer. He
closed his eyes in order to think better and was just on the point of
falling into a pleasant doze of riches and conquest, when Pinny Penny
came noisily into the room.

He was preceded by two of the King's Supervisors, who, urged forward by
the fearless little Prime Minister, stood sulkily and defiantly before
the throne.

"Well, what now?" demanded Skamperoo, blinking his eyes sleepily. "Can
you not handle these arguments yourself, Pinny Penny? Is a King to have
no rest or privacy at all?"

Instead of answering, Pinny Penny took a small cotton bag from the
tallest of the Supervisors and handed it silently to the King. Still
half asleep, Skamperoo untied the draw string of the small bag and
emptied the contents into his fat hand. What he saw there made his
eyes fly open--wide open! Jewels! The very thing for which he had been
wishing.

"Emeralds!" gasped the King, rubbing the glittering necklace between
his fingers. "Where did you get this, Twobyfour?"

"They were sent to your Majesty by a merchant in the Second County,
who got them from a traveling peddler. The peddler had got them from
a Gilliken, who had got them from a Quadling, who had got them from a
Munchkin, who had once lived in the Emerald City of Oz."

"OZ!" snapped the King, sitting up very straight. "Where is Oz?"

"Oz is a great and powerful Kingdom on the other side of the Deadly
Desert," answered Twobyfour, looking uneasily over his shoulder at
Pinny Penny.

"Then how did this peddler cross the desert?" demanded Skamperoo,
holding the necklace up to the light and feasting his eyes greedily on
its gleaming emeralds.

"That, I cannot say." Twobyfour cast a longing glance at the door,
heartily wishing himself on the other side.

"Then perhaps you will tell us why you did not turn this necklace over
to the King?" suggested Pinny Penny mournfully.

"Yes, how dared you keep it?" panted Skamperoo indignantly. "And what
are you gaping at, Threebysix? I'll wager you were in this, too."

"He was," shouted Twobyfour hoarsely. "He tried to steal the jewels
from me. That's how he got the black eye."

"But you tried to steal them from me, and what about _that_ my fine
fellow?" Twobyfour turned a painful and uncomfortable scarlet under the
King's accusing eye.

"In Skampavia we have so little, your Majesty," he stuttered miserably.
"With these emeralds I thought I might buy a bit of land in some cooler
and more comfortable country where my wife and two boys could be
happy--a country where flowers would grow in a garden, and where a man
would not have to spend his whole life wrestling with rocks and weeds
and drilling for hours in the hot sun for no reason whatsoever."

"Hah!" exclaimed Pinny Penny, looking meaningly at the King.

"Hah, yourself!" grunted Skamperoo wrathfully, then as the emeralds
continued to sparkle and glitter in his hand his anger subsided.

"You did very wrong to keep the necklace, Twobyfour," he stated mildly.
"But I have decided to forgive you. Return now to the Second County and
explain to the merchant who gave you this necklace that I must have all
three."

"All three!" exclaimed Twobyfour. "But he's entitled by law to two of
them."

"My word is the law here, and you can choose between a broken law or a
broken head," Skamperoo told him calmly.

"He is the KING," murmured Pinny Penny in a quiet voice. There was
nothing sarcastic in the manner of his speech, but something in the
Prime Minister's expression made the King prickle all over with
discomfort.

"Yes, I am the King," he shouted explosively, "and moreover I have
spoken. Begone, both of you, and YOU, Twobyfour, have two days to
return with those two necklaces. The necklaces or your HEAD, do you
understand? And--er--er--you may tell that merchant in your county that
he need send no more of his wares to the capital, the three necklaces
will suffice," he bellowed as the two Supervisors went bolting through
the door.

"How nice--they will suffice. You are the King," sniffed Pinny Penny
with a sour smile.

"Are you a parrot or a Prime Minister? Stop repeating that silly stuff
and tell me about Oz," commanded Skamperoo, clasping the emerald
necklace around his fat throat. "Have you ever heard of this place,
Pinny Penny? It must be a rich and marvelous country if peddlers can
trade emerald necklaces as carelessly as we trade wooden beads."

"It is a marvelous country," answered Pinny Penny thoughtfully. "I
remember my father telling me about the capital of Oz, an Emerald City,
where even the streets were inlaid with jewels and every tower and wall
was studded with emeralds."

"Well, why have I never been told about this?" wheezed the King
peevishly. "A country like that just a precious stone's throw away, so
to speak."

"Your Majesty has never cared for reading or study," Pinny Penny
reminded him a bit maliciously. "In our library there is a whole
history of Oz."

"Fetch it! Fetch it, bring it to me at once!" panted the King, bouncing
up and down on his throne like a big bad baby (which in truth he was).
"I must discover why Oz is so rich and prosperous while we are so poor
and unfortunate."

"Not so unfortunate and poor as we are unwise and greedy," stated Pinny
Penny, stalking calmly across the room. "If your Majesty would study
ways to improve Skampavia and allow your own subjects to keep a fair
share of their crops and merchandise, we might be a powerful country,
too."

"Nonsense! What can we do with a rocky little desert like this?"
blustered Skamperoo contemptuously. "Skampavia is a dull little
Kingdom, a dumb little Kingdom--a KingDUMB, that's a good name for it."

"And you?" murmured Pinny Penny under his breath as he hastened away to
fetch the book on Oz. Returning, he plumped the fat volume down on the
King's knees and stood back with folded arms.

"Well--well? Do you expect me to read all this?" wailed Skamperoo
in dismay. "Why, it would take a year or more. Explain it to me,
Pinny Penny. Just give me the gist of the matter. Just give me the
gist--there, I've made a joke. Ha! ha! ha! I've made a joke."

"But Oz is no joke," said the Prime Minister shortly, "your Majesty
had better get that through your head at once. Now attend closely and
I will endeavor to give you the most important facts about this rich
and enchanting country across the desert. In the first place," Pinny
Penny looked severely over his specs, "Oz is about fifty times as large
as Skampavia, a great oblong, undulating country divided into four
triangular Kingdoms. Each of these Kingdoms has its own ruler, but all
four are subject to the rule of Ozma of Oz, whose capital, the Emerald
City, is in the exact center of Oz."

"A girl?" exclaimed Skamperoo, leaning forward excitedly. "How can a
mere girl rule over an important country like that?"

"By using her heart as well as her head, by encouraging thrift and
rewarding industry," announced Pinny Penny in a tone that made the King
wince. "Your Majesty would do well to read of her wise laws and plans
for the betterment of her country."

"You may just skip all that," sniffed Skamperoo, closing his mouth
stubbornly. "Tell me who are the rulers of these four Kingdoms and the
general customs and characteristics of the people."

Closing his eyes and putting his finger tips together, Pinny Penny
began solemnly: "The Northern-most country of Oz is the Land of
the Gillikens, famed for its luscious grapes, plums, wisteria, and
heather. It is a purple country and is ruled over by Joe King and Queen
Hyacinth, who live in an amethyst trimmed castle high in the Gilliken
Mountains. The Eastern Empire of Oz is a yellow country, known for its
wheat, corn, butter, pumpkins, daffodils, and gold mines. Nick Chopper
is Emperor of the Winkies and this singular ruler is entirely made of
tin plate and celebrated in song and story as 'The Tin Woodman of Oz.'"
Pinny Penny paused a moment to catch his breath and then continued
quietly:

"The Southland is red and noted for its strawberries, tomatoes, beets,
red birds, red wood, and red-heads. Glinda, the Good Sorceress, governs
the Quadlings, who make up its inhabitants, and she knows as much
magic as Ozma herself--"

"Oh, it's one of those magic places where one just snaps the fingers
to get what he wants," sighed the King discontentedly. "Well--well--go
on--"

"The Western Country of Oz is blue," continued Pinny Penny obligingly,
"and everyone has heard of its famous blue ridge mountains, its blue
birds, its violets, its blue skies and its capital, the Sapphire City.
Cheeriobed is King, and Orin is Queen of the Munchkins, and they live
in the Sapphire City, in almost as much magnificence as Ozma in the
Emerald City. Is that all you wish to know?"

"About the army?" muttered Skamperoo, wrinkling up his forehead. "Has
this girl ruler a great army stationed at her capital?"

Pinny Penny grinned in spite of himself. "The young fairy ruler of
Oz is opposed to all wars and fighting and has at her court an army
consisting of one tall soldier with green whiskers," he explained
hurriedly.

"One soldier with green whiskers!" shouted the King, nearly tumbling
off his throne. "I never heard anything more ridiculous in my life. I
thought you said Oz wasn't a joke and yet you stand there and tell me
about an army of one soldier. Why, that's the funniest thing I ever
heard. Ha, haw, haw!"

"Laugh if you wish," said Pinny Penny resignedly, "but don't forget
that Ozma has more magic appliances at her finger tips than we have
pebbles on our desert. In her palace lives the famous Wizard of Oz, who
can work every sort of transformation and enchantment, but does so only
for the good of the country."

"Humph!" exclaimed the King. "Well, how many fighting men have we?"

"Seven hundred Skampavian soldiers in each of the seven counties,"
answered Pinny Penny reluctantly, "but let me warn your Majesty that
the idea you have in your head is sheer madness and will lead to
nothing but ruin. Take off your crown, put on your night cap and dream
away this foolishness."

"And a fine looking crown it is," snapped the King, snatching off his
crown and looking at it angrily. "But these emeralds will brighten it
up a bit, eh, Pinny Penny?"

"It is not the sparkle of gems in a King's crown that count, it is the
jewels of wisdom in the head under the crown that make him happy and
well beloved--"

"Stop! Enough!" yelled the King, hurling the crown with all his might
at Pinny Penny. "When will you stop this infernal lecturing and
scolding?"

"When your Majesty stops talking nonsense," sighed Pinny, catching the
crown with one hand and pulling a long bell cord with the other. "Come
now, let us have our tea and forget about Oz," he proposed calmly.
"Lemon or cream, your Highness?"

"Lemon!" growled the King sourly, and slapping open the book of history
on his knees, he stared long and enviously at a picture of the Emerald
City of Oz.




CHAPTER 2

The King and the Merchant


Two days had passed since Skamperoo had come into possession of the
emerald necklace. He had never taken it off for a moment. He even wore
it to bed, and spent most of the daytime admiring himself and it in
the palace mirrors. Now, as the afternoon of the second day drew to a
close, he kept bouncing over to the windows that commanded a view of
the Highway.

"If that rascal does not turn up soon, I'll--I'll--"

"Explode, probably," predicted Pinny Penny, who was playing solitaire
with the only pack of cards the castle afforded. "Calm yourself,
Skamper, what good are these emeralds when you come right down to it?"

"Good? Good? They are worth more than this whole miserable castle,"
answered the King indignantly. "I can sell them and buy--no, no, I'll
never part with them," he corrected himself hastily. "They give me a
feeling of importance and power. Our star has risen, Pinny Penny. Great
days are ahead. Hark! Listen! Is that a footstep in the courtyard?"
Darting back to the window, the portly monarch flattened his nose
against the pane. "It's Twoby! It's Twobyfour!" he shouted hopping up
and down like a school boy. "And there's a tall bearded stranger with
him."

"If your Majesty will quietly seat yourself, I'll endeavor to announce
them," reproved Pinny Penny, gathering up his cards. "Remember you are
a King and not a jumping jack."

"Oh--all right." Skamperoo flung himself heavily down among his
cushions and presently the tramp of feet along the corridor proclaimed
the arrival of the long awaited Supervisor. Pinny Penny advanced
stiffly to meet him and after a whispered conversation he called out in
a bored voice:

"Twobyfour, Governor of our Second Province, and Matiah, the Merchant,
your Majesty!"

"Yes! Yes? But where are the emeralds?" panted Skamperoo, leaning
forward eagerly as the two travelers advanced respectfully to the
throne.

Drawing a small bag from his leather jerkin, Twobyfour held it sullenly
out to the King.

"Here, your Majesty, and here also is the merchant who goes with the
necklace." Twobyfour haughtily indicated the turbaned Skampavian beside
him.

"Yes! Yes, the merchant." The King, intent upon the jewels, did not
even look up. "He goes with the necklaces, you say? Well, ha! ha! now
he may go without them. That is all I require of you, my good fellow,
your presence here is not necessary or desirable. You may go. GO, do
you understand?"

"Go?" Matiah drew himself up to his fullest height, which was pretty
high, I can tell you. "Perhaps your Majesty will suggest where? For
these three necklaces I traded my house, my shops, and all my other
possessions. You say that is all, and it is indeed. Since you have
taken all I own and possess, your Majesty must take me also. You owe me
a living and I am here to say so."

"Say no more," put in Pinny Penny soothingly.

"Matiah is right, Skamperoo, and well within his rights as well. We
must make a place for him in the palace. What can you do?" he inquired
practically.

"Do?" The merchant opened his eyes very wide. "Do? I am a merchant
accustomed to dealing in jewels, china, cloth, and basket wear."

"Then you'll be the very one to help out in the kitchen and laundry,"
proposed Pinny Penny brightly. "There are no jewels, but we have onions
and potatoes a-plenty, and with the dirty dishes and hampers of soiled
linens you will be right at home."

"What?" screamed Matiah, as Twobyfour snickered behind his hand. "You
require this mean-ial toil of me--Matiah, son of Metorah, son of
Metanic--merchants for these thousands of years? This is preposterous!
An outrage! I will go! I will go indeed. I will start a war, an
uprising--a revolution! Help! help! help!" yelled the merchant shrilly.
"The King has stolen my emeralds."

"Stop! Stop! Not so loud," begged Skamperoo, leaping agilely off his
throne and pattering anxiously after Matiah. "You may leave us, Pinny
Penny, I think I can find something better than kitchen work for this
honest citizen."

"Humph!" snorted Pinny Penny, and motioning for Twobyfour to follow
him he marched disapprovingly from the royal presence.

"You mustn't mind old Pinny," puffed the King, dropping a bit
breathlessly on his throne. "There, there, now, sit down and make
yourself comfortable. As I was saying, Pinny Penny has very odd notions
at times."

"Very odd," agreed Matiah, and seating himself on a chair opposite the
King, he fastened his eyes greedily on the sparkling chains now clasped
firmly about the monarch's fat throat.

"Now, then, we must find something easy and pleasant for you," went on
the King, scratching one ear reflectively. "You might, er--you might
spend your time entertaining me. I'll wager you are just full of good
stories, songs, and amusing tricks?"

"Tricks?" exclaimed the merchant, elevating his nose disdainfully.
Then a sudden gleam came into his small black eyes. "Tricks!" he
repeated more pleasantly. "Ah, your Majesty is right. How well you have
guessed my secret." Leaning forward, he held his hand up to his mouth
and looking furtively over his shoulder, whispered hoarsely. "I am a
magician, King, and well versed in the arts of sorcery."

"Sorcery!" cried Skamperoo, clasping himself delightedly about his
middle. "How perfectly panormick! Magic is the very thing we need
around here. Tell me quickly, what can you do? How much magic do you
know?"

"Is there some place where we can be quite alone?" Matiah held up his
hand mysteriously. "No one must know I am a magician--it must be a
secret between us."

"Of course! Of course!" agreed the King, rolling off his throne with
more speed than dignity. "Come to my private walled garden. No one can
hear us there."

"No one?" asked Matiah sharply. "Are there then no guards upon the
wall?"

"No guards--no servants--no one at all is allowed in my garden," the
King assured him proudly.

"And is there a door in the garden's wall?" Matiah stroking his long
beard stood regarding the King thoughtfully. "My first trick requires a
door."

"Of course there's a door, or how should I get out and in myself? Come
along, come along!" Waddling into the corridor, Skamperoo started off
at a quick trot for his private garden. Matiah, grinning wickedly to
himself, stepped softly after the King. Once in the garden, he meant to
have his necklaces, even if he had to take off the King's head to get
them.

"One sweep of my scimiter," murmured the merchant to himself. "Ho, ho!
This is too easy!" The King's garden when they reached it was no more
than a small sandy square with some cactus plants in the center and a
rickety bench against the wall. Seating himself heavily on the bench,
Skamperoo made room for the merchant beside him.

"Now, then," he grunted hurriedly. "Begin. Show me what you can do.
Prove that you are a magician."

"First I must have the necklaces," stated Matiah calmly. "Without the
emeralds I cannot do a single trick."

"But--but--if the magic is in the emeralds, I can be my own magician,"
answered Skamperoo, clutching the chains with both hands.

"But your Majesty is not a magician," Matiah told him reasonably. "You
do not know the proper words or incantations. No, I myself must wear
these magic jewels. And what harm is there in that? As soon as your
wish is granted I will hand them straight back to you."

"What's that? Can you really grant wishes?" Skamperoo's eyes began to
snap and dance with greed and interest.

"Certainly," promised Matiah, blinking shrewdly across the square and
estimating with his eye the distance he should have to run to reach the
door in the garden wall. "All you have to do is to think of something
you want, close your eyes, count slowly to a hundred, and I, wearing
the three necklaces, will easily grant your wish. I thought you trusted
me and that we were going to be friends," he finished reproachfully.

"We were--er--that is--HERE, take them!" Unclasping the heavy chains,
Skamperoo, who already had a wish in mind, thrust them into the
merchant's hands. Closing his eyes, he made his wish and then began to
count hysterically, "One--two--three--four--five--six." At six, Matiah
was half way across the garden, when horrors! A great white horse with
a golden tail and mane dropped like a plummet from the sky. Pawing up
the sand in Matiah's path, he flashed his yellow eyes so wickedly, the
merchant fell back into the cactus bushes, where he lay screaming
with shock, pain and amazement. But Skamperoo, thinking all the noises
he heard were but magic incantations, went calmly on with his counting.
He had reached sixty before Matiah had recovered himself enough to
crawl out of the cactus and make his way cautiously back to the bench.
The immense white horse continued to stare at him threateningly, but as
it made no attempt to spring forward he began to regain a little of his
usual assurance and courage.

"Great Garoo! Then there _was_ magic in the emeralds. This horse was
undoubtedly the King's wish come true, a beastly wish!" shuddered the
merchant as he stared in fascination at the pawing monster and wondered
what to do next. He was afraid to run past the white horse and escape
with the jewels, but HAH! he could make a wish for himself, a wish that
would carry him and the emeralds far from Skampavia, the farther the
better. Closing his eyes, he muttered a hurried sentence and waited
tensely to be transported to Ev, a country he had once visited in
his youth. But nothing at all happened, and gritting his teeth with
vexation, Matiah opened his eyes just as Skamperoo finished counting a
hundred.

"So!" beamed the delighted monarch, embracing him heartily. "You have
done it. You really _are_ a magician. Behold my horse, a horse in a
thousand. A golden maned charger fit for a King, for a Conqueror--"

"Of all the dumb things," fumed Matiah, wriggling fiercely away from
Skamperoo, "of all the dumb things to wish for, a horse is about the
dumbest of all!"

"Dumb?" whinnied the white steed with an indignant snort.

    "I'm not a dumb beast, I can laugh, I can talk,
    That's becoz I'm from Oz and my full name is Chalk."

"Cha--lk?" quavered Skamperoo, who had never heard an animal speak
a word in his life. "He--he says his name's Chalk." The King looked
appealingly at the merchant and seeing he would have to live up to the
role of magician, Matiah assumed an air of careless superiority.

"Well, he doubtless knows his own name, your Majesty. If he says
his name is Chalk it probably is Chalk, and the reason he can talk
is because he comes from Oz, land of the magic necklaces, where all
animals speak as well as we do."

"Better," sniffed Chalk. Then, taking an experimental nibble at the
cactus, he gave a terrific squeal of pain and displeasure--flung up
his heels and began to race around the garden at such a furious pace,
Matiah and the King jumped behind the bench and cowered miserably
against the wall.

"Well, there you are!" panted the merchant angrily. "You have your
horse and what now? He's yours, you know, and you'll have to control
him." Matiah ducked behind the King as Chalk thundered past, covering
them both with dust and sand. "If you ask me, you simply wasted a
wish. Why, you might have wished yourself a ton of emeralds--or a
Kingdom ten times as large and prosperous as Skampavia--or--"

"But there's plenty of time for that," sputtered Skamperoo, holding
desperately to the bench, "since you are a magician you can grant all
of my wishes."

"Oh, no, NO indeed!" Matiah spoke hastily, remembering the way the
emeralds had failed to grant his wish. "I can grant only one wish a
week," he explained breathlessly, "and I trust next time you will think
before you wish. Whoa, there, you Ozian brute! You silly monster. Stop
that! Whoa! Ho! Whoa, I tell you!"

"Are you my master?" Leaping lightly over the cactus, Chalk came to a
sudden halt before the bench.

"No, this King is your master," answered Matiah thankfully enough.
"Speak to him, Skamper," he urged in a lower voice as Chalk reared
curiously up on his hind legs to have a good look at the King.

"Be--behave yourself," commanded Skamperoo tearfully. "How do you
expect me to ride on your back if you act like this?"

"Ah--so you expect to ride me?" Chalk came down with a thud and grinned
broadly at his new master. If you have never seen a horse grin, you
have no idea how upsetting it can be. "Well, I suppose I shall have to
put up with you," he neighed finally. "Just call a groom or a servant,
old Rub-atub, and see that I'm served my evening oats, three apples,
and a measure of corn."

"Certainly, certainly," agreed the King, starting off on trembling legs.

"Well, I must say this is splendid, splendid!" protested Matiah,
hurrying nervously after the King. (He was afraid to stay in the
garden with Chalk.) "Where do you expect to get, taking orders from a
horse?"

"I suppose you'd prefer me to take them from you!" puffed Skamperoo,
beginning to grow a little angry himself. "Here, GIVE me my necklaces."
Snatching the emeralds from the merchant's neck, he went charging into
the palace hardly knowing whether to be glad or sorry for the sudden
change in his fortunes.

But by the time he reached his throne room, he had calmed down
considerably. Seating himself hurriedly on his throne, he pondered how
he could keep all these strange occurrences from Pinny Penny. He felt
sure Pinny Penny would never approve of magic necklaces or a talking
horse. Well now, he'd just tell his meddlesome Prime Minister that the
stamping, snorting steed in the garden belonged to Matiah and must be
fed and stabled. When he made another wish--and he had a whole week to
think about that--when he made another wish he would be careful to wish
for everything he needed. As for this whiskery wizard--he would flatter
him along until he discovered the right magic to use with the emeralds.
Then he would wish him away like that. Like THAT! Snapping his fingers
spitefully, Skamperoo pulled the long bell cord that summoned Pinny
Penny. His Royal Charger should be fed. Not many monarchs had a talking
horse with a golden mane. Aho, but he was coming on! He'd show Pinny
Penny yet what a smart ruler he was!

Now Matiah, following the King slowly into the palace, had done some
reflecting, too. He resolved not to lose his temper again with this
provoking simpleton of a sovereign. He would simply humor him along
and before the week was out he would have another chance to steal the
necklaces and escape to some far country. There at his leisure he would
experiment until he discovered the right way to use them. He could not
understand why the King had got his wish and his own wish had gone for
nothing. What was the secret of the magic emeralds? With his forehead
still wrinkled in thought, Matiah entered the throne room and quietly
seated himself in a chair opposite Skamperoo. Much to his relief, the
King neither reproached nor upbraided him.

"Ah, so there you are?" he cried in his best meant-to-be-cheerful
voice. "I have just sent Pinny Penny to feed your horse."

"_My_ horse?" barked Matiah, starting up in dismay, then catching a
meaning wink from the King, he quickly winked back.

"It seemed wisest," murmured Skamperoo, "to say nothing of your magic
powers for the present. All this will be OUR secret," he finished
playfully.

"Oh, yes, yes--indubitably!" While Skamperoo was still wondering what
"indubitably" meant, Matiah hurried out of the room and took a long
drink of water from the old-fashioned fountain in the hall.

"OUR secret!" he repeated bitterly to himself. "Our secret, indeed!"




CHAPTER 3

More About the Emeralds


Skamperoo had not slept a wink. He tossed from side to side of the
royal bed, his head simply buzzing with enchanting plans for the
future. With the magic emeralds he could have everything he desired,
and his desires and wishes were multiplying so rapidly he scarcely
knew where to begin or what to wish first. The necklaces pressed
uncomfortably against his throat, but he would not take them off. He
was so weary he ached in every bone, but still he could not stop
thinking, and just as the castle clock tolled seven the very thing he
should wish for first came suddenly to him.

Ah, that was it--too bad he had to wait a whole week, but a week would
pass and perhaps during that time he would discover for himself the
magic secret of his sparkling new treasures. Then he could be his own
magician and put that meddlesome merchant in his place. As he was
running over in his mind possible places to send Matiah, the door of
his room opened cautiously and Pinny Penny stuck in his head.

"Well! Well? And did I ring?" grunted Skamperoo fretfully. "This is a
fine time to awaken an Emperor."

"Emperor?" exclaimed Pinny Penny, coming all the way into the room and
closing the door. "Since when has Skampavia's King become an Emperor?"

"Oh, go away and don't bother me." Turning his back on Pinny Penny, the
King thumped his pillow and closed his eyes as tightly as he could.

"It's all about the horse," whispered Pinny Penny, coming around to the
other side of the bed. "A strange and magnificent animal for a mere
merchant, if I may be permitted to say so. Not only that--it TALKS.
It's ordering the stable boys around in a shocking manner and it even
told ME to mind my own business."

"Well, why don't you?" suggested Skamperoo, rolling over on his back.
"Of course he talks, Pinny; he's an Oz horse, and all animals from Oz
talk. I thought you knew that."

"Well, if this merchant has a talking horse, he is not so poor as he
pretends," persisted Pinny Penny, shaking his finger under the King's
nose. "My advice is to set the fellow on his horse and send him about
his business as quickly as possible. I don't like his looks, Skamper.
He's mean and mischievous, and mark my words, no good will come of him
or his necklaces."

"I don't like his looks any better than you," agreed the King, clasping
his fat hands on his stomach. "But if I keep the emeralds I must keep
the merchant, and besides I've a notion I could ride that talking horse
myself."

"Oh, good goats and gravy! Then I'd best go and lay in a supply of
splints and liniment." Pushing his specs up on his forehead, Pinny
Penny cast a disgusted glance at his huge reclining master and rushed
hurriedly from the royal presence.

Now Matiah, as you can well imagine, had slept no better than the
King. In the small room to which Pinny Penny had taken him, he paced
restlessly up and down. After all, he knew only two facts about the
magic emeralds, the first that they really could, under certain
conditions, grant wishes; the second, that they must not be worn by the
person making the wish. This much the merchant had reasoned out for
himself. As the King had got his wish while he, Matiah, was wearing
the necklaces, and he himself had not got the wish he made with the
emeralds around his own throat, that much seemed certain. Snapping his
fingers joyfully and feeling sure the King was now wearing the jeweled
chains, Matiah made a second wish, counting slowly to a hundred.
But the hearty supper he had ordered as a test failed to appear and
flinging himself down on the bed he began to rack his brains for some
other solution of the mystery. Perhaps the magic power rested in a
single stone which he had luckily touched as the King made his wish.

Holding his head with both hands, he tried to remember exactly what he
had done as Skamperoo began to count. But it was no use. He could not
recall a single thing after he had started to run across the garden.
And how, concluded the infuriated fellow, was he ever to discover
the way to use the emeralds without arousing the King's suspicions
or revealing the fact that he knew no more about them than Skamperoo
himself? Muttering with vexation, he kicked a foot stool all the way
across the room and sat staring morosely at the worn carpet. The short,
uneasy nap he finally got before morning did him no good, and cross
and jumpy as a cougar, he made his way to the dingy dining hall of the
palace.

The King had already breakfasted, and looking out of the window,
Matiah saw a terrified servant leading the Talking Horse around the
courtyard, Skamperoo following at a safe distance. The sight of the
stamping white charger made Matiah shudder anew. What a waste! he
reflected bitterly, and if the King grew fond of the saucy monster it
would make his own task even more difficult, for until he succeeded in
stealing the necklaces, Matiah did not intend to let Skamperoo out of
his sight. Gulping down the weak coffee and cold eggs a shabby servant
grudgingly placed before him, he hastened outside.

"Good morning, your Majesty!" he called out heartily. "And may I have a
word with your Royal Highness?"

"What kind of a word?" snickered Chalk, rolling his yellow eyes
roguishly round at the merchant. "Give him a word, old Rub-atub, if
that's all he wants. The right word for him, I should say, would be
'GO!' or 'NO!' and then we all could be happy."

"It is about the necklaces," confided Matiah, ignoring the horse
utterly, and falling easily into step with the King. "They must be
cleaned every day to keep them in good wishing condition."

"But I was just going for a ride," objected Skamperoo with a little
frown, "won't this afternoon do?"

"No, NOW is the proper time," answered Matiah impressively, thinking
how clever he was to have invented this ruse to get hold of the
emeralds. "If your Majesty will just give them to me, I'll polish them
up while you are--er--exercising."

"No--no--er--that is, I'd better come and help you," Skamperoo spoke
quickly. "I can ride this afternoon."

"You think so?" With an exuberant prance, Chalk rose on his hind legs
and spun around like a pinwheel. "Well, see you later, old Sos!" And
with the terrified stable boy hanging to his bridle he went galloping
off to the stable.

"If you take my advice, you'll have that creature knocked on the head,"
said Matiah savagely. "Surely you won't endanger our lives by riding on
his back?"

"OUR lives!" exclaimed Skamperoo, looking at Matiah in surprise. "You
do not have to ride him; in fact, he's really my horse," he stated
jealously.

"So long as your Majesty wears the magic necklaces I must go wherever
you go and do whatever you do!" explained the merchant loftily.

"How--how very awkward!" In spite of himself, Skamperoo groaned as he
thought how tiresome it would be with Matiah trailing after him from
morning till night. "I should think a magician like yourself could
arrange things more sensibly."

"But consider what is at stake," Matiah reminded him earnestly.
"Together we can have and do anything we wish. Is that not worth a
little inconvenience?"

"Yes, yes, I suppose so. But if we are to do everything together,
I think I should know the magic wishing formula as well as you."
Skamperoo looked defiantly up at his newest advisor.

"That is impossible." Striding along stiffly, Matiah shook his head.
"The incantation once revealed becomes powerless. Only one versed in
magic is permitted to use the emeralds. Have you thought at all about
your next wish?" he asked, anxious to direct the King's mind into more
cheerful channels. "We should plan and consult about it together, you
know. But wait until we are in your Majesty's throne room," He added
quickly, as Skamperoo began to open and shut his mouth like a fish
without saying anything. "While I am cleaning the necklaces we can
talk it over, yes?" Matiah's fingers fairly itched for the sparkling
jewels, but restraining a mad impulse to snatch them from the King's
throat, he walked along quietly beside Skamperoo talking so calmly and
convincingly that he soon had the Skampavian monarch not only willing
but anxious to reveal the wish that had kept him awake most of the
night.

First assuring himself that they were alone and locking the door
so they would not be disturbed, the King seated himself at a small
table. Matiah drew up a chair opposite and held out his hand for the
necklaces. Reluctantly Skamperoo handed them over, keeping a jealous
eye on the jewels as the merchant began polishing them with a small
square of silk he had taken from his pocket.

As he rubbed the silk over the emeralds, Matiah carefully examined
each one for some mark or sign that would give him a clue to their
magic power. Intent as he was upon this task, a few low spoken words
of Skamperoo made him sit suddenly erect and regard the King with new
respect and attention. How in thunderation, thought Matiah wonderingly,
had this fat silly monarch ever managed to hit upon such a magnificent
and breath-taking wish, and as Skamperoo explained and elaborated
upon his plans and schemes for the future, the merchant's interest
grew apace. Quicker and cleverer than the King, he saw not only the
possibilities of this splendid wish, but all the difficulties and
problems that must be met and disposed of before it could be reasonably
granted.

Leaning forward, the emeralds for the moment forgotten, he put his
mouth close to Skamperoo's ear. "There are three things that must be
done before your wish can be realized." Matiah spoke tensely. "First,
... second, ... third, ...." After each short whispered direction
Skamperoo nodded to show that he understood.

"Then it will take four wishes to do it," he sighed, resting his elbows
heavily on the table. "That will be four weeks, won't it?"

"No, perhaps if we are careful we can work it all into one," answered
Matiah thoughtfully, and taking up his bit of silk he began polishing
the emeralds with renewed vigor. The King, watching him, forgot his
former dislike and distrust. Matiah's enthusiastic approval of his
plans made him feel that perhaps he had misjudged this long-faced,
whiskered stranger. Perhaps he would not wish him away, after all. He
might prove very useful in the strange and magnificent future that
stretched ahead.

Matiah, on his part, had no such kindly intentions toward the King. He
merely meant to make Skamperoo's wish his own, and so grand and daring
was the prospect that he grew more impatient than ever to discover the
way to accomplish it. Holding all three necklaces up to the light,
he squinted at them anxiously. The chains seemed identical in every
respect, but no--what was this? One had a diamond clasp, while the
clasps on the other two were of flattened emeralds. This, then, was the
solution. The magic wishing power undoubtedly rested in the diamond
clasp. Revealing in no way his satisfaction and elation over this
important discovery, Matiah handed the necklaces back to the King.

Somehow, decided the merchant, he must make Skamperoo touch the diamond
clasp while he silently repeated the King's wish, but before that he
needed a little time to prepare himself for the grand and glorious
years that were to be his. As Skamperoo, exhausted by so much thinking
early in the morning, waddled wearily over to his throne, Matiah strode
to the book shelves located in an adjoining alcove.

"While your Majesty rests I will have a look at this interesting
library," he murmured ingratiatingly, "and at the same time store up
some useful information for the future." Skamperoo sleepily returned
the merchant's broad wink, then, sinking back among his cushions,
closed his eyes.

From his chair in the alcove, Matiah could keep the King in view, and
satisfied that Skamperoo was really asleep, he began hurriedly turning
over the pages of the large volume Pinny Penny had but that morning
returned to the shelves. Soon he became so absorbed he forgot all about
the King. And that was a pity, for had he taken the trouble to look, he
would have discovered that the King was no longer _there_.




CHAPTER 4

The King and His Talking Horse


Now it is true that the King had closed his eyes as Matiah settled
himself in the alcove to read, but he was very far from asleep.
In fact, no more than five minutes had been ticked away by the
old-fashioned clock, in the corner before Skamperoo straightened up as
if suddenly struck by lightning. Casting a cautious look at the quiet
merchant, he began to slide rapidly toward the door. Opening it without
a sound, he slipped out into the corridor and, closing it just as
softly, went puffing away to the quarters of the White Wishing Horse
at the back of the courtyard. Though usually unenterprising and dull,
we must credit Skamperoo with one brilliant idea. As Chalk had been
brought to Skampavia by the magic emeralds, why should he not know the
trick of using them? Fairly panting with eagerness and impatience,
Skamperoo jerked open the door of the stable and stepped recklessly
into Chalk's stall.

"Ah, the little Kingaling!" whinnied Chalk, tossing his mane gaily. For
some reason or other he found his fat master tremendously amusing, and
while he had an immediate desire to trample on Matiah and frighten off
the stable boys, he felt only an affectionate tolerance for the tubby
little ruler of Skampavia. "Have you come for your ride?" he inquired,
giving the King a playful poke with his soft nose.

"No, I've come to talk to you," wheezed Skamperoo, seating himself
carefully on an overturned water bucket. "Quick, tell me all you know
about these magic emeralds." Touching his three necklaces with a
trembling forefinger, the King looked imploringly into the face of his
new and powerful steed.

"Humph!" Chalk shifted a mouthful of hay to his other cheek. "Well, as
to that, or rather them, all that I know is nothing. You forget that
I only came into existence yesterday afternoon."

"Of course, of course! I was the one who wished you here," explained
the King impatiently.

"You wished me here?" mused Chalk, staring meditatively at the comical
figure on the water bucket. "Well, I hardly know whether to thank you
or to jump on you with all four feet. Even without any experience at
all, I can see that this is no place for me."

"You're right," sighed Skamperoo, clasping his knees dejectedly. "It's
no place for me, either. That is why I must know about the emeralds.
They can satisfy our every wish, and if we just knew how to use them we
could go away together."

"You think you could manage that!" sniffed Chalk, who had his own
opinion as to what would happen once the King mounted on his back.

"Yes, together!" insisted Skamperoo. "Try to think," he begged
earnestly. "You say you know nothing, then how did you know you came
from Oz and your name and all that?"

"That's right, how did I?" Putting one ear forward and one ear
backward, Chalk swallowed his hay with a quick gulp. "There must be a
lot of stuff in my head that I practically know nothing about," he
reasoned thoughtfully. "Suppose you tell me exactly what happened and
then I'll tell you what I think of it." So, hunching forward, Skamperoo
recounted the whole story of the merchant and the necklaces, how he and
Matiah had retired to his private garden, how there, with the merchant
wearing the emeralds, his first wish had been granted.

"And a splendid wish it was, too," sighed Skamperoo, looking fondly up
at his white horse. "Never forget that you were my first wish, fellow."

"I'm hardly likely to forget myself," snickered Chalk loftily, "but
attend closely, old Crown and Scepter, when I dropped down into that
garden yon whiskered merchant was running for the gate as if his life
depended on it. He only stopped because he was afraid to pass me, and
from the way he fell into those cactus bushes, I'll wager he was as
astonished as you were that the emeralds had granted your wish." Chalk
wrinkled his forehead shrewdly. "I don't believe he knows any more
about the necklaces than we do. If he did, he would never have sent you
one in the first place, and he would have granted all of his own wishes
and been in some splendid other place. Matiah's a fraud!" finished the
King's horse vehemently, "and means to steal back the emeralds."

"Of course! Of course! Oh! Oh! Why didn't I think of that myself? What
shall we do now?" wailed Skamperoo, jumping up so quickly he overturned
the bucket, for Chalk's frankly spoken opinion confirmed his own
suspicions of the merchant.

"Sit down," advised the white horse, not unkindly. "I may not be a
magician, but I have a little sense, and horse sense is what your
Majesty needs more than anything else." As Skamperoo righted the bucket
and meekly sat down again, Chalk closed his eyes, standing silent and
motionless for so long the King thought he had fallen into a trance.
But just as he began to fidget nervously about on the uncomfortable
edge of the bucket, the white horse opened his eyes and flashing a
triumphant smile at Skamperoo, began calling in a loud, lordly voice.
"Boy! BOY! BOY!"

While the King regarded him with mingled misgivings and admiration,
Chalk snapped out directions to the clumsy little groom who came
running in answer to his summons. When his mane and tail had been
thoroughly brushed and he was decked out once more in the splendid
saddle and trappings he had worn on his first appearance in Skampavia,
he dismissed the groom with a haughty toss of his head.

"Come!" he breathed mysteriously. "Climb up, Skamperoo, and we'll
Skamperoodle before that rascally merchant even misses us. Have you
decided upon the place we are to go?" he questioned curiously as the
King made seven frantic attempts to put his foot in the golden stirrup.
"Heh! Heh! Heh! The other foot, Master. How do you ever expect to mount
that way? Stand on the bucket, Kingaling, catch hold of the saddle and
pull. It's easy as oats once you get the hang of it."

"Is it?" Lying mournfully on his back where he had fallen after his
last effort, Skamperoo gazed mournfully upward and Chalk himself began
to champ, snort and switch his tail with irritation.

"You wished me on yourself and now it looks as if you would have to
wish yourself on me," he muttered savagely. "Here, give me those
necklaces--hang them over my ear and let's have done with this shameful
exhibition."

"You mean--if I wish myself upon your back I will really be there?"
panted Skamperoo, bouncing up like a rubber ball. "You mean you have
discovered the secret of the emeralds?"

"Certainly!" The white horse regarded him scornfully through
half-closed eyes, and the King, all too willing to be convinced,
unclasped his three necklaces and, standing on tip toe, hung them over
Chalk's right ear.

"I--I wish to be upon this creature's back," puffed Skamperoo, his
cheeks swelling out with suspense and importance. "One, two, three,
four, five, six--" and scarcely had he begun to count before he found
himself firmly seated in the saddle.

"Now, now, not another word," commanded Chalk sternly. "Before you dare
to speak, take those emeralds off my ear." With shaking hands the King
did as he was told, his heart pounding so violently it almost kicked
a hole in his shirt.

"That's right," directed the white horse more mildly. "Now suppose you
tell me where you intend to wish us and what we do after that? Wishes
are pretty quick, you know, and it is best to be prepared."

"But--but I cannot understand how you made them work," spluttered
Skamperoo. "It's wonderful--it's marvelous, do you understand what this
means?"

"Perfectly." Chalk rolled his eyes triumphantly round at his greedy
little Master. "My head seems to be full of magic, which is not
strange, seeing that I was magically brought into existence and the
trick of the necklaces once I got to thinking about them is quite
simple. Now I am what I am--a horse, and quite satisfied, but you with
these emeralds may easily make a jackass of yourself, so you had better
tell me what you wish before you wish it. For instance," he went on
reprovingly, "if instead of wishing yourself upon my back, you had
wished yourself a good horseman, how much wiser that would have been.
There's a lot more to riding than getting into the saddle, you know.
But never mind that now, what was this great big wish you and Matiah
were planning together?" Leaning so far forward he almost lost his
balance, Skamperoo hurriedly whispered into Chalk's left ear his grand
and glorious wish for the future, being careful to add to his own wish
the three crafty suggestions made by the clever merchant.

"You are sure this is what you desire?" Chalk looked sharply and a
little sadly at the rotund and royal figure on his back. "You mean to
go away and leave your own people without a thought or care? Isn't
there anyone here you would like to take along or give a share of your
good fortune?" The King shook his head violently.

"I might make a wish for Pinny Penny," he added rather sheepishly.

"Good idea," sniffed Chalk. "What are you going to give old Skinny
Pins? You know I rather like that old codger." Without delay and a bit
spitefully the King told him, and as this time Chalk found no fault
with the wish, Skamperoo again placed the emeralds over Chalk's ear and
quickly spoke nine words. Then, without waiting to see whether Pinny
Penny got his wish, Chalk again took command.

"If you do exactly as I say, we'll get off before Matiah discovers
you are gone and comes down here to slice off your head to get his
necklaces," said the white horse severely. Lowering his voice to a
whisper, he slowly enunciated four brief sentences. Tingling partly
with fright and partly with anticipation, Skamperoo repeated the four
sentences after Chalk and began his counting. But, stars! Scarcely had
he reached ten before he felt a great lift and lurch, had just time to
snatch back his emeralds and seize the reins before he and the huge
white wishing horse, without leaving even a rustle in the quiet air,
had gone, vanished and completely disappeared from Skampavia.




CHAPTER 5

A Great Celebration in Oz


"Why all the crown jewels, old Toz?" Resting his chin on the window
ledge, Highboy looked inquiringly into the dressing room of Joe King,
ruler of the Gillikens and all of the purple countries of Oz. The
King's apartment was on the tenth floor of the royal palace, but this
made no difference to Highboy, for Highboy was a giant horse whose
telescope legs could be raised or lowered to any level, making him one
of the most amazing and amusing animals in Oz. "I say, are we going
anywhere in particular?" he drawled curiously as the King, decked out
in his best braided traveling coat and amethyst crown, surveyed himself
cheerfully in the long mirror.

"WE!" chuckled the merry monarch, turning round with a hearty roar.
"Ho, Ho, HO! And how do you know YOU are going?"

"Well, I see you are wearing your best purple boots, and when the King
of all the Gillikens wears his best purple boots, he usually rides his
best purple horse, does he not?"

"Right," admitted the King good naturedly. "And I might as well tell
you at once that we are going to the capital at the express invitation
of her Imperial Highness, Queen Ozma of Oz!" The King cleared his
throat importantly. "There is to be an immense festival to celebrate
the discovery of Oz by mortals, the honors to be equally divided
between the famous Wizard who arrived here in a balloon from Omaha many
years ago, and little Dorothy, who came by way of a Kansas cyclone
somewhat later. Not only will the rulers of all four Oz Kingdoms be
present, but many other important and Royal personages as well."

"Well? Well, indeed!" trumpeted the giant horse shrilly. "There you
stand all shined up like a door knob and never a word to me. How'll I
look? Why wasn't I told before? When do we start?"

"Just as soon as her Majesty decides what to wear and what to take with
her," answered the King with a solemn wink.

"Oh, then I'll have bushels of time." Highboy sighed heavily with
relief. "So we're invited to the Emerald City, eh? How perfectly perf,
how simply magnif. Billy! Tommy! JIM!!" As he called the name of each
little groom, Highboy let himself down a couple of stories and by the
time he reached a usual horse height and level on the ground, he had
ordered himself a bath, a mane wave, an oil shampoo, and a hooficure.
Indeed, Highboy's plans for the party went on apace and with the three
grooms pattering after him with buckets, brushes, and sponges, he
trotted anxiously up and down his great airy stable picking out his
most splendid saddle and bridle and silver-braided blanket for the
journey. The giant horse wished to make an impression that would uphold
if not enhance the honor and reputation of the Gillikens. He was eager
to renew his friendship with Trot, a little mortal girl who lived
in the palace and with Herby, the Medicine Man, and the many other
interesting characters he had met on a former visit to the capital.

In the Munchkin, Quadling, and Winkie Kingdoms there was also a lively
bustle and stir of preparation, and in many of the lesser Kingdoms the
Kings, Queens, and Potentates made ready for the great spring festival
in the Emerald City. And you can imagine the fun and excitement in
the capital itself. Everyone had some special part in the program,
even the dogs and cats ran importantly about on countless errands
like small messengers, their ears and tails quivering with interest
and expectancy. After the visitors had been officially welcomed at
the gates of the city, there was to be an imperial procession with
bands, floats and favors for everybody. Then there were to be games,
races, and other exciting athletic events and a grand banquet in the
Royal Palace. A magic lantern ball in Ozma's garden would complete the
festivities for the first day. For the second, pageants and tableaux
depicting the important and historical events of Ozian history had
been arranged for the morning. Notta Bit More, a circus clown who had
come to Oz from Philadelphia, was putting on an outdoor circus in the
afternoon, helped by Bob Up, the orphan who had come with him, and all
the famous animals in the Emerald City. From the squeals, shouts, and
hilarious chuckles issuing from the huge white tent set just beyond the
city wall, it promised to be an unqualified success.

After the circus, Ozma had planned a picnic supper on the banks of
the Winkie River, to be followed by demonstrations in magic by the
Wizard of Oz and Glinda, the Good Sorceress of the South, and last,
but not least, a lavish display of fireworks sent especially for the
grand occasion by Happy Toko, Emperor of the Silver Isles. No wonder
the children in the Emerald City could think of nothing but the
coming celebration. No wonder Dorothy, Trot, and Bettsy Bobbin, the
little mortals who lived in the great palace and were Princesses in
their own right, were too busy to think of their titles or bother with
their crowns. Dorothy, the first of the three to reach the capital,
was Ozma's favorite companion, and Dorothy was perhaps the busiest of
all. Not only had she planned all the tableaux and pageants, but had
entire charge of decorating the palace and the Emerald City as well.
The Scarecrow, whom Dorothy had discovered on her earliest trip to Oz,
was her most willing and tireless assistant. This lively straw-stuffed
gentleman had brains given him by the Wizard and was in high favor
and constant demand because of his natural cheerfulness and amiable
disposition.

At the moment, he and Dorothy were superintending the erection of a
floral arch over the great jeweled gates of the City. This arch, grown
and tended by the Wizard, was so magically compounded that as each
visitor rode through the gateway a ribbon-tied bouquet of fragrant
spring flowers dropped lightly into his or her lap. Dorothy and the
Scarecrow had tried it out to their complete delight and satisfaction,
and now clasping their large bouquets, watched three energetic little
gardeners tie up the last tendrils of the magic vine to the gaily
painted arbor.

"You know," said Dorothy, peering over the flower tops at the
Scarecrow, "I can hardly wait till tomorrow. To think we'll be seeing
Sir Hokus and Ojo and Unk Nunkie and Urtha and Prince Tatters and all
the others--"

"And they'll be seeing us, too, remember that," beamed the Scarecrow,
closing one cotton eye. "And now, if you think you can manage for a
few minutes without me, I had better go and study up on my speech of
welcome."

"Oh--are YOU making the speech of welcome? How grand! How thrilling!"
Dorothy gazed admiringly up at her oldest friend in Oz.

"Yes, and I'm also making the speech awarding medals to the Discoverers
of our country," confided the Scarecrow, thrusting out his chin and
striking an attitude. "How will you feel when I pin that medal on your
chest, my girl?"

"Well," sighed Dorothy, looking dreamily over her bouquet, "I couldn't
feel any happier than I do now, but it certainly will be a great honor,
Scarecrow."

"A great honor! Well, I should snickerty wicker. But what if I forget
my speech right in the middle of a word!" The Scarecrow pushed back his
old blue hat and puckered up his forehead anxiously. "How will I feel
with all those Kings and Queens staring right at me? Really, I think
Ozma had better have someone else make the speeches."

"Oh, go along with you," laughed Dorothy, giving him a little push.
"Haven't you magic brains? You'll be a splendid speechmaker."

"Do you think so? Well, I'll do my best." Somewhat reassured, the
Scarecrow patted Dorothy on the shoulder and started off through the
park. Dorothy could tell from the way he flung his arms about that he
was rehearsing, and with an amused little smile she hurried back to
the palace to put the finishing touches to the decorations for Ozma's
throne room. Half way there, she met the Hungry Tiger carrying a large
basket in his teeth and followed by ten little kitchen boys, also
bearing enormous baskets.

"Good gracious, Tige, what's this?" Dorothy stared at the little
procession in surprise. The Hungry Tiger and Cowardly Lion have lived
in the Emerald City almost as long as Dorothy and though the tiger's
appetite is tremendous and he is always threatening to eat a fat baby,
he has never yet done it and is tame as Dorothy's pet kitten Eureka.

"Oh, hadn't you heard?" The Hungry Tiger set down his basket and
smoothed back his whiskers complacently. "I'm the head of the
reception committee for all visiting animals and am on my way now to
buy refreshments for the great banquet and picnic. And trust me," he
gave Dorothy a broad wink, "to do it right. Just let me see that list,
Kapo." Taking a long slip from the first kitchen boy, he began to drone
off the names of the capital's famous four-footed citizens and then the
list of visitors.

"Of course, there must be meat for the Cowardly Lion and myself," mused
the Tiger, blinking his eyes sleepily. "Then there's Hank, Bettsy
Bobbin's Mule, and Doubty, that dromedary you and Sir Hokus brought
back from one of those strange journeys; and we mustn't forget Peter's
Iffin, though he doesn't eat much. Put down a box of violets and
geraniums for the Iffin, Kapo, my lad. Ozma's Saw Horse and the Woozy
being of wood don't care for food, but that fine pink pig Pigasus eats
enough for a dozen horses, and Toto, your little dog, and Billina must
be taken care of too, and Scrap's bear, Grumpy."

"Of course," agreed Dorothy, leaning her elbow on the Tiger's back so
she could read the list over his shoulder. "But they all live here.
Who's coming from foreign parts, Tiger?"

"Well," confided the Tiger, "you'll be glad to know our old friend the
Comfortable Camel is making the trip with Hokus, I mean the Yellow
Knight, and Marygolden, the Princess he married, is riding a warhorse
named Stampedro. The King and Queen of the Gillikens will make the trip
on the Giant Horse (quite a lot of horses, aren't there), and I hope
Highboy keeps his legs in bounds. It makes me nervous to see a creature
one height one minute and another height the next. You knew the Prince
of Pumperdink was bringing Kabumpo, the Elegant Elephant?"

"Don't you mean that Kabumpo is bringing him?" put in Dorothy
mischievously, "and won't you be glad to see him again?"

"Yes, I'll be glad enough to see him," murmured the Tiger, "but feeding
him is quite a big problem."

"Well, you're just the one to do it," said Dorothy, smoothing away the
wrinkle between the Tiger's pointed ears. "You have such a big appetite
yourself, you'd know just how hungry an elephant would feel. I see
you've got Roger down, too."

"I'm pretty sure King Ato will bring his Read Bird, so I'm ordering a
dozen boxes of animal crackers for Roger and a barrel of apples for
Snufferbux."

"I wonder if he'll dance for us." Dorothy's eyes brightened, for she
had taken a great fancy to the faithful bear with whom Ojo had traveled
all over Oz. "He's bound to be jolly and full of fun."

"And hungry as a bear," sighed the Tiger with a worried frown. "But
that is easy compared to a dragon. King Cheeriobed is bringing a
dragon, and this dragon's on a diet of mustard and sulphur--think
of that, my child, and SAY--I'd best get along or I'll never get my
marketing done."

"And I must go, too," said Dorothy, reminded of her many
responsibilities. So, giving the Tiger's ear an affectionate pull, she
ran all the way back to the palace. In the throne room she found Ozma
and Tik Tok in a quiet conference.

"I've made Tik Tok Master of Ceremonies," said Ozma, looking up with
a smile of welcome, "because he never forgets what he's wound up to
remember."

"And I'll be sure to keep him wound up," promised Dorothy, patting the
machine man on his copper shoulder. Tik Tok was another of Dorothy's
discoveries and had been manufactured by a magician to be a slave of
the King of Ev, but here he was, thanks to Dorothy, enjoying a life of
interest and ease in the capital. Tik Tok could talk, think, and move
about as well as anyone when he was wound, and was much more reliable
and tireless than a real person.

"I am to an-nounce the vis-i-tors as they en-ter the pal-ace and
per-son-a-al-ly con-duct them to their roy-al quar-ters," Tik Tok
told Dorothy in his slow and precise manner. "Oz-ma can de-pend on me
ab-so-lute-ly and ev-e-ry thing will go like clock-work." With two
stiff bows and ticking with importance, the metal man marched proudly
from the room.

"Like clock-work. Ha, ha! did you hear that, and why not with a
clock-work man in charge? Oh, Ozma, doesn't it all look grand and
gorgeous?" Clasping the little Queen around her slender waist, Dorothy
gazed around the beautiful throne room. Every window and doorway
was garlanded with flowers, while hundreds of palms, ferns, and
fluttering silk pennants gave it an unwonted look of pomp and ceremony.
"Let--me--see," mused Dorothy, straightening the folds of a white
satin curtain. "I'm to stand on your right, Bettsy Bobbin and Trot on
your left, and the Patchwork Girl is to hold your train at the grand
reception. Do you think you can trust her, Ozma? She'll probably try to
jump rope or wave it like a handkerchief."

"Oh, Scraps is pretty good, considering her giddy make up," observed
Ozma with a little smile, "and she would be so disappointed not to be
with us. I'm sure I can trust her--at least for a little while."

"Trust me? Trust me? You disgust me," shouted a merry voice and Scraps,
who had been peeking through the curtains at the back of the room, took
a long running slide, landing in an unladylike heap at the foot of the
dais leading to the throne. Scraps, made from an old crazy quilt and
stuffed with cotton, had been brought to life by a magician to serve
his wife, but the Patch Work Girl had come to the Emerald City with Ojo
and never returned to her creators, scorning the humble career of a
maid servant. She was so gay and amusing Ozma had allowed her to remain
at the palace.

"Must I go in training to hold a train?" she demanded, springing to her
feet and striking so comical an attitude both Dorothy and Ozma had to
laugh.

"Of course not," said Ozma kindly, "just be careful and do not do any
gymnastics during the reception."

"Oh, I'll be careful and so dignified I'll probably split a seam, but
wait till you see the grand-aerial-balance-defying stunt I'm to put on
for the big show," puffed Scraps, snapping her button eyes boastfully.
"I'm to walk the tight rope in Notta's circus, so SO long, girls, I
must go and practice."

"Well, even if she falls it won't matter," remarked Dorothy with a
slight shudder as the Patch Work Girl jumped recklessly out of the
window, and picking herself up set off for the circus grounds on the
edge of the park.

"Oh, Ozma, with all the interesting people here already and with all
the grand and exciting ones who are coming, I believe we'll have the
best time we've ever had since Oz was discovered."

"Are you glad you discovered us?" Giving her an affectionate squeeze,
Ozma linked her arm through Dorothy's. "Let's see how the Wizard is
getting on with his tricks for the picnic."

Dorothy nodded eagerly, and hand in hand the two girls hurried across
the corridor to the laboratory of the wonderful Wizard of Oz.




CHAPTER 6

A Strange Warning


The first day of the grand celebration dawned clear and bright. The
Emerald City had never seemed more sparkling or fair. Flags fluttered
from every tower and turret of the palace; each house wore a garland
of flowers and flaunted a dozen silken banners in the fresh spring
breeze. The streets were alive with Ozma's subjects suitably costumed
for the big parade, and when, shortly after noon, the Royal Visitors
began to arrive, the castle bells broke into a joyous tolling, the
hundred bands struck up the Oz National Anthem and the magnificent and
beautiful floats began to swing into line.

The Scarecrow's address of welcome at the City Gates had been greeted
with wild enthusiasm and applause, and now, happy but somewhat
breathless, the indefatigable Straw Man mounted on the Saw Horse was
leading the illustrious Guests into the City, where they were to join
the Royal Procession and proceed in triumph to the West Gardens of
the park. What shouts and cheers went up from the happy throngs as
that impressive company in their glittering coaches or riding their
favorite steeds moved majestically through the emerald-studded streets
of the capital. Directly following the Scarecrow, all in red and
wearing her tallest ruby crown, was Glinda the Good Sorceress of the
South, her swan-drawn chariot seeming to float by itself. Marching
cheerfully after the Ruler of the Quadlings came Nick Chopper the
Nickel Plated Emperor of the Winkies, polished to the highest degree
but democratically afoot, marching in the center of his ten splendid
uniformed Winkie Guards. A few steps behind the Tin Woodman, and
prancing along in hardly restrained exuberance, was the Giant Horse,
proudly bearing Joe King and Queen Hyacinth, King and Queen of the
Gillikens. And Highboy not only carried his own head high, but he had
elevated his sovereigns above everyone else in the procession so that
none could miss the happily smiling rulers of the North.

A dazzling blue dragon had pulled the coach of King Cheeriobed, Queen
Orin and Prince Philador all the way from Sapphire City, and an
eye-filling sight was the Royal Family of the Munchkins. Kabumpo, the
Elegant Elephant, resplendent in his jeweled robe, swayed haughtily
along after Cheeriobed's blue coach, waving his trunk in a dignified
way to his friends in the crowd. In the canopied seat on his back rode
Prince Pompadore and Peg Amy of Pumperdink, easily the handsomest young
couple in Oz.

Peering mischievously out the side of his gaily painted jinrikisha was
the merry Red Jinn, himself, and no one could view the rotund little
Wizard of Ev without feeling happier. Jinnicky's body was a great
red jar. He wore the lid for a hat and when he grew bored or sleepy
he would simply retire into himself like a turtle. But now he did
not feel at all like retiring and was showering ginger cookies right
and left and simply beaming with interest and jollity. The King and
Queen of Ragbad rolled briskly along in their shabby but comfortable
open coach. With them were Prince Tatters, Urtha, his flowery little
Princess, and Grandpa, an old Soldier with a wooden leg, who had gone
through many wars and hardships for the sake of his country. But the
shout that greeted the Yellow Knight was loudest and longest of all.
The Prince of Corumbia had lived in the Emerald City for many years as
Sir Hokus of Pokes, before he was disenchanted and became the young and
charming husband of Princess Marygolden of Corabia. Sir Hokus rode
the Comfortable Camel, and Camy, who had also spent part of his life
in the capital, came in for his full share of the cheering. Princess
Marygolden was mounted on Stampedro, the Knight's great stamping war
horse, and Stampedro was a sight to make any little boy's heart beat
faster.

Ato, King of the Octagon Isles, and Samuel Salt, a reformed Pirate, now
Royal Discoverer and Explorer for the Crown, traveled together in Ato's
Octagon Chariot drawn by eight prancing black horses with eight footmen
in eight-sided hats on the high seat behind his merry little Majesty.
Roger, the Read Bird, perched proudly on the King's shoulder, reading
out the signs and street names as they bowled merrily over the gold
paving stones, and chuckling to himself in eight different languages.

Last, but by no means least, came the King and Queen of Seebania, the
King's uncle, better known in the Emerald City as Unc Nunkie, and the
King's son Ojo. The King and Queen were seated sedately in the Silver
Coach of Seebania, but Ojo and his pet bear Snufferbux were proudly
mounted on the back of Roganda, Queen of the Unicorns. This handsome
snow white beast, who had happened to be visiting Ojo at the time,
could not only send her horn darting out like a lance, but could
blow it as well. The sound of its clear, bell-like notes made many a
trumpeter in Ozma's band turn round with surprise and envy. Drawn up
to meet her impressive visitors was Ozma herself. The Royal Float of
Her Imperial Highness was formed like a sea shell. On an uncut emerald
in the center sat the little Ruler of all the Ozians dressed in a
shimmering white robe, wearing her flashing emerald crown and never in
all the thousand years of her young life had this lovely young fairy
looked more beautiful. Also in white were her attendants, Dorothy,
Bettsy, and Trot, each wearing an emerald circlet and carrying a long
wand draped with spring flowers.

As the Scarecrow brought his bright cavalcade to a triumphant halt,
Ozma's float, drawn by the Hungry Tiger and the Cowardly Lion, swung
into place at the head of the line. The other Emerald City Floats,
first waiting for the Royal Equipages and mounts of the visitors to
pass, swept after them in a burst of music and color. The Wizard of
Oz had chosen a huge revolving green ball on which the nimble little
necromancer ably kept his balance as he propelled himself along. After
him came Jack Pumpkinhead, riding the Iffin. Herby, the Medicine Man,
clinging precariously to the Doubtful Dromedary's hump, the pills and
boxes in his medicine chest rattling like castanets, was another figure
of interest. The float of Notta Bit More represented a circus ring, and
the antics of the clown, Pigasus, Bob Up, Scraps, Hank and Grumpy, The
Patch Work Girl's bear, kept the onlookers in a gale of hilarity.

Tik Tok had rigged up a mechanical handcar, which he operated himself.
Benny, the live statue of a public Benefactor, who had come to Oz
from Boston, strode solidly along, an expression of pride and deep
satisfaction on his well-carved features. Beside Benny marched the
Soldier with Green Whiskers, looking neither to the left or right, as
became a man who represented in his own person the whole and entire
army of Oz. I have only mentioned the most outstanding of the Emerald
City paraders. Besides these, there were countless marchers and
hundreds of miniature castles, ships, huge make-believe sea serpents
and dragons, and in a blaze of color and harmony they wound through the
streets of the capital, ending up in the West Gardens of the palace,
where the boys and girls from Professor Wogglebug's Athletic College
distinguished themselves in a series of gymnastic displays and the
Scarecrow established an all-time record for pole vaulting.

By the time Ozma had awarded the cups and trophies, the sun had begun
to slip down behind the treetops, and in high spirits and with splendid
appetites the Royal Party and the Royal Guests turned toward the
castle. Here Tik Tok, who had hurried on ahead, nobly discharged his
duties as Master of Ceremonies. The Cowardly Lion did the honors for
the Four Footed visitors, leading each to an airy shower-equipped stall
in the Royal Stable, so they could rest and refresh themselves before
the Grand Banquet. And how shall I do justice to that dazzling affair?

For the first time in its history the magnificent Dining Hall was
filled to capacity. Easily as large as a city park, there was just
room for the two long, sparkling, flower-laden banquet tables, the
first for Ozma's courtiers and guests, the second for the palace pets
and visiting animals. The Scarecrow caused a roar of hilarity as the
diners took their places by donning a pair of dark spectacles to
prevent eye-strain from the flashing of so many jewels and crowns.
With each course of the long delicious dinner Ozma had a different
King, Queen, or Celebrity at her side, and so cleverly had it all been
arranged, each guest had the honor of sitting for a time beside the
Kingdom's Little Fairy Ruler. Soft music floated down from the balcony
where the Royal orchestra was concealed behind a bower of palms. The
bright robes and jewels of the banqueters and the emerald and silver
dinner service twinkled and sparkled in the magic glow of a thousand
candles. The hundred footmen were swift and skillful, the speeches were
short and merry, "and never," thought Dorothy, looking around with a
little thrill of satisfaction, "never has there been so grand and yet
delightful a party!"

The Hungry Tiger had remembered the tastes and appetites of each of his
guests, and not only were they served with the same dainties enjoyed by
the Two Footed visitors, but every one had a special dish of his own.
Even the Dragon seemed to enjoy immensely his matches and mustard, then
called in a hoarse voice for three pails of hot coals, after which he
blew a whole series of smoke rings and went comfortably to sleep.

Dorothy and the Wizard had with due modesty accepted their medals for
their discovery of Oz and the whole company on its feet for this
impressive ceremony were suddenly startled by a shrill scream from the
Patch Work Girl.

"His beard! His beard! Look at his beard!" yodeled Scraps. (Yes,
I think "yodel" best describes the excited noise made by this
irrepressible maiden.)

"His beard, I said, it's turning RED!" At the word "beard" every eye
turned to the Soldier with Green Whiskers, for his beard was the
longest and most celebrated in Oz.

"Why, so it is!" exclaimed Dorothy in astonishment.

"Red?" choked the Solider, desperately clutching his famous whiskers.
"Oh! Oh! My beautiful green beard--it's red as fire. Oh! Oh! How can I
ever be the Soldier with Green Whiskers if my beard stays red? Who did
this? Wizard! Wizard, are you playing a trick on me?"

"Certainly not, Soldier. I'd be the last person to tamper with
your sacred beard. Quiet, please! Quiet! This is extremely odd and
disturbing." Jumping on his chair, the Little Wizard of Oz looked
anxiously around the room.

"Do they hurt? Are red whiskers painful?" asked Scraps, while the Royal
guests, hardly knowing whether to laugh or sympathize, gazed curiously
at the blazing beard of the Army of Oz.

"They--they hurt my feelings," blubbered the poor Soldier, holding out
his bristling whiskers in disgust. "I'll never get used to a red beard.
Never! Never!"

"Why not cut it off?" inquired Prince Pompadore, with some difficulty
controlling his chuckles.

"What? Cut off my beautiful whiskers? Why, why, I'd rather lose my
head," moaned the Soldier with a horrified shudder. "How would I look?
How would I fight? Oh! Oh! This is ridiculous!" Burying his face in
his napkin, Ozma's distracted army rushed violently from the room.

"Red-iculous, if you ask me," observed the Scarecrow in his droll voice.

"No, no, it's MAGIC!" muttered the Wizard, stepping briskly down from
his chair. "Wait, I must consult my book of red magic and portents."

"And I'll go with you," offered Jinnicky, rolling quickly out of his
cushioned seat. "You know RED magic is my specialty." So, arm in arm,
the Wizard of Oz and the Wizard of Ev bustled away together.

"Well, I can tell you what it means without consulting any books,"
said the Scarecrow as Ozma, looking rather troubled, again took her
place and motioned for the others to do the same. "It is a warning,"
declared the Scarecrow, raising his arm stiffly. "Someone is coming to
beard us in our den (pardon such an informal reference to your castle,
my dear,)" he made an apologetic little bow to Ozma and then continued
seriously, "a danger from without threatens the Kingdom of Oz."

"Who would dare threaten the sovereignty of our country?" demanded the
Yellow Knight, brandishing his sword.

"What's up? What's up?" neighed Highboy, elevating himself so suddenly
he cracked his head against the ceiling.

"You should know, being so high," chuckled the Scarecrow, who could not
resist a joke even when he was most serious. "But calm yourself, my
good horse, you are not in danger yet." Danger! The short, ugly word
dropped like a bomb into that gay and carefree assemblage. Dorothy,
with a little pang of dismay, saw the Cowardly Lion creeping under the
table, and feeling in her pocket for her handkerchief drew out instead
one of the Wizard's wishing pills. He had given it to her so she could
visit the corn ear palace of the Scarecrow the following week and do it
by simply wishing herself there instead of making the journey. Dorothy
fingered the pill thoughtfully for a minute or two, then with a sudden
quick motion popped the small tablet into her mouth.

"Whatever happens, help me to save Ozma and Oz," murmured Dorothy, and
swallowing the pill, she looked sharply around the room for further
signs of warning or disaster.




CHAPTER 7

What Wizard?


At first, everything seemed as usual. Then, turning to ask the Tin
Woodman a question, Dorothy was annoyed to discover that his chair was
pushed back and he was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, he's probably helping the Wizard," decided Dorothy, and had no
sooner come to this comforting conclusion before she gave a second
start of alarm. Glinda, the Good Sorceress, was no longer in her seat
at the foot of the table, and running her eye hurriedly down the
glittering board, Dorothy saw five more empty places. Pressing a
finger to her forehead, Dorothy tried to remember who had been sitting
in the five deserted chairs. Surely Joe King and Queen Hyacinth had
been there between Bettsy Bobbin and Trot, while Prince Philador, Queen
Orin and King Cheeriobed had been directly opposite.

"Good Gillikens!" gasped the little girl, jumping quickly to her feet.
"The rulers of all four Oz countries are gone and Highboy's gone, too."
And strangely enough, nobody seemed to have missed them. Instead, they
were listening with broad smiles and appreciatively tapping toes to the
loud and hilarious singing of the Patch Work Girl. Scraps, thinking
it a shame to let a mere change of whiskers spoil a good party, was
enlivening the company with her newest and most comical rhymes. So
loud was her voice and the applause of the banqueters, Dorothy found
it impossible to make herself heard, so, running around to the back of
the Scarecrow's chair, she tugged him anxiously by the arm. "Scarecrow!
Scarecrow!" whispered Dorothy hoarsely, "Where are the Four Rulers of
Oz, and whatever can be keeping the Wizard so long?" Tearing his gaze
reluctantly from the Patch Work Girl, the Scarecrow looked dreamily
over his shoulder.

"WHAT WIZARD?" he inquired blankly.

"THE Wizard, OUR Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz." Dorothy stamped
her foot and almost shouted with surprise and vexation.

"Never heard of him," declared the Scarecrow, smiling blandly down at
her. "Now, why not sit quietly down and listen to Scraps? She's never
been funnier. Ha! Ha! Ha! Never funnier!" Dorothy was so stunned and
dumbfounded by the Scarecrow's statement about the Wizard, she opened
and closed her mouth several times without saying anything.

"Mercy, I'd better tell Ozma about this," she thought distractedly,
and swinging round abruptly she scurried along back of the diners till
she came to the head of the table. "Oh, Ozma!" panted the little girl
breathlessly--then stopped short. There was no one in Ozma's great
dragon armed chair of state. The Yellow Knight and Prince Pompadore,
who for the last course were in the seats of honor beside the little
Queen, leaned unconcernedly across her empty place, engaged in a long,
earnest argument about horses. They looked up in surprise as Dorothy,
her crown by this time very much on the side, bounced suddenly between
them. "Where's Ozma?" demanded the little girl, thumping her fist
sharply on the table.

"Ozma?" The Yellow Knight and Prince Pompa exchanged an uneasy glance.
"Who is Ozma?" asked Prince Pompadore curiously.

"Oh! Oh, I think you all are perfectly horrid. Stop joking! Stop
teasing me!" cried Dorothy, and as both Princes in frank amazement
jumped up to try to comfort her, she rushed angrily from the room.
As she fled along the green corridor she could still hear Scraps
singing and the shouts and cheers of her listeners. "This is
terrible--terrible!" wailed Dorothy, and running blindly down the long
hall she burst through the swinging doors of the Wizard's laboratory.
What she had expected to find Dorothy hardly knew. Really, she was
hoping to see Ozma and the four other rulers grouped around the
Wizard's green table. But only a blank suffocating silence answered
her frantic call for the Wizard. Frightened into silence herself,
Dorothy tiptoed from one end to the other of the long, curiously
appointed apartment, peering into cupboards, under sofas and back of
screens. Where was the Red Jinn? Where was the Little Wizard of Oz?
Not here certainly. Not in the Banquet Hall. But the THRONE ROOM!
THERE she would find all of her missing friends conferring with Ozma
over the threatened danger to the realm. With a little gasp of relief,
she darted across the corridor into the vast and magnificent Hall of
Justice where Ozma received visitors, settled disputes, and carried on
all the important business of governing.

They were not in the sumptuous presence chamber, but at least the
throne was not empty. No--no, indeed! Dorothy looked once, rubbed her
eyes--looked again, and then, giving a shrill scream of terror, flung
both arms round one of the emerald studded pillars. An immense white
horse was sitting on the throne of Oz. A great fat King was sitting
on the horse, or rather, clinging desperately to his neck. Dorothy knew
he was a King by the crown perched ridiculously on the side of his
head. That crown seemed oddly familiar, and after another horrified
glance Dorothy screamed again, for it was the splendid emerald circlet
belonging to Ozma of Oz.

Her screams seemed to rouse the two occupants of the throne, who, to be
perfectly frank, looked as dazed and stupefied as Dorothy herself.

"Go away!" sputtered the fat King, waving his arms irritably. "Go away,
little girl, and don't bother me."

"And kindly bow as you leave," directed the White Horse, lifting one
foot sternly. "You are looking at the Emperor of Oz and his Imperial
Charger." Bowing more from astonishment than intention, Dorothy backed
a few steps, then turned round and ran madly toward the Royal Banquet
Hall.




CHAPTER 8

Way for the Emperor!


"Here, give her water! Give her air! Stand back, everybody. Now, then,
what's the matter, child?" The Scarecrow bent solicitously over the
little girl who had rushed into the banquet hall screaming hysterically
about disappearances and white horses and fallen breathlessly into
the chair beside him. "Come, tell uncle all about it," begged the
Scarecrow, patting Dorothy clumsily on the head.

"Tell you!" choked poor Dorothy, twisting her best handkerchief into a
hard knot. "Do I have to tell you? Can't you see for yourselves that
Ozma is missing, that the Wizard and Jinnicky are gone, that Glinda and
the Tin Woodman, that the King and Queen of the Gillikens and the King
and Queen of the Munchkins have vanished entirely! And yet, here you
sit, singing and laughing as if nothing at all had happened. Can't you
understand that something dreadful has happened to Ozma and that a big,
fat, funny-looking man and a white horse are sitting on the throne of
Oz?"

"Ozma, Ozma--who's she?" murmured the banqueters, looking vaguely at
Dorothy and then at each other.

"She's feverish, that's what." Herby, the Medicine Man, leaned over to
touch Dorothy expertly on the forehead. "I'd advise you to go upstairs
and lie down, my dear."

"Yes, why don't you?" urged Bettsy Bobbin, coming over to put her arm
around Dorothy's waist. "I'll go up with you and lend you my very best
smelling salts."

"Lie down--with that big fat interloper on the throne of Oz!" wailed
Dorothy. Squirming out of Bettsy's embrace, she started indignantly
to her feet. "You must be crazy! Camy! Kabumpo! Snufferbux! Toto!
You--you'll believe me, won't you?" Hurrying over to the second table,
Dorothy looked pleadingly down the long board from the Hungry Tiger at
the head to the Cowardly Lion at the foot.

"There, there," mumbled Kabumpo, lifting Dorothy up in his trunk.
"Don't go on so, my dear, we all have these little funny spells. Here,
sit up on my back so you'll have a good view of the Emperor when he
arrives. Hi--there he comes now! Ray! Ray! Way for Skamperoo, Emperor
of Oz!" Waving Dorothy in his trunk as if she had been a flag, Kabumpo
plopped down on his knees and banged his big head three times on the
polished floor. From her precarious position Dorothy saw the same fat
imposter who had been in the throne room riding his white charger
pompously into the Banquet Hall, the horse nodding to the left and
right and grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Cheers, bows and a loud burst of applause and music made his entry so
noisy Dorothy's angry protests and cries were entirely drowned out.
Disgusted, confused and completely bewildered by the behavior of Ozma's
subjects and her own best friends, Dorothy jerked away from Kabumpo
and darted through a long French window into the garden. What could
it mean? What could have happened? Had all her former memories of Oz
been a dream? No, no! Violently Dorothy decided against such an idea.
Rather was this fat emperor a dream--a maddening nightmare from which
she would presently awaken. Leaning dizzily against a golden faun set
near a crystal garden pool, Dorothy tried to find some reasonable
explanation of the whole dreadful mixup. And here, several minutes
later, Pigasus, the winged Pig, found her.

"Thought a little fly over the tree tops might help your head," grunted
Pigasus, looking unhappily down his pink snout. "Nothing like a little
fly for a headache, my girl!"

"My head's all right," answered Dorothy sullenly. "It's the rest of
you who have lost your heads or your senses. How in Oz you could stand
in there cheering that big, fat fraud, I'll never, never understand.
Piggins, Piggins, dear--" Dorothy bent coaxingly over him--"surely you
remember Ozma and the Wizard and Glinda." Instead of answering at once,
Pigasus stared thoughtfully at his reflection in the pool.

"Suppose you sit on my back and then we can talk without being heard,"
he suggested brightly. "Up in the air we can air our views in safety,
as it were."

"To tell the truth, I don't much care where I go now," sighed Dorothy,
seating herself disconsolately on the pig's broad back.

    "Hey Hey, we're bewitched and enchanted, I knew it!
    With you on my back, I can think and see through it!"

squealed Pigasus, and flapping his huge wings he soared high over the
flowering plum trees in Ozma's garden.

    "Of course Ozma's Queen, not this big Skamperoo
    The Ruler of Oz and the whole royal crew
    Have been kidnapped--bewitched, or put out of the way--
    We'll fly off for help and we'll start right away."

"Oh, Piggins!" Dorothy threw both arms round the pig's neck and almost
wept for joy:

    "Oh Pigasus to think you remember them, too,
    But where have they gone? What in Oz shall we do?"

    "We'll find them, wherever they are they'll be found,
    But we'd best make our plans with our feet on the ground,"

muttered Pigasus, looking below for a likely spot to land. There was
one disadvantage about Pigasus, though some did not regard it as such.
Like the winged horse Pegasus, whoever caught him and rode on his
back at once became a poet and unable to speak anything but rhymes.
The poetic pig could not only tell what they were thinking, but he
often spoke his own mind in verse as well. At times this grew terribly
tiresome, but except for his jingles, a more cheerful loyal little
fellow could not be found in the length or breadth of the country.
Raised and bred by the Red Jinn, he had been given to the Duke of
Dork. The Duke had given him to the Philadelphia boy, Peter, who in
the course of a voyage with Samuel Salt, the Pirate, had captured the
Duke's splendid castle boat. The capture had been quite a social and
friendly affair and the Duke had traded Pigasus for a Bananny Goat.
Peter had later brought the flying pig to the Emerald City, where he
was petted and admired by the whole court.

Now, slanting down into a quiet grove, Pigasus came to a gentle stop
and Dorothy tumbled jubilantly off his back.

"Oh, Pigasus, isn't it lucky you were in the Emerald City? Nobody else
can remember Ozma or the others at all."

"And I only remembered them because you sat on my back," confessed the
pig, twitching his nose thoughtfully. "It was my thought-reading gift
that did the trick, and I am more than ever convinced that we are
under some mischievous spell or enchantment. What I don't understand,
my dear, is how you yourself escaped or chanced to remember things as
they were. You know, before I came out here, it seemed perfectly right
and natural for that roly poly pudding of an Emperor to be sitting at
the head of the table. I knew no more about Ozma, or Glinda, or my
former master Jinnicky than a new-born baby. By the way, Jinnicky's
gone too, isn't he?"

"Yes," Dorothy shook her head sorrowfully, "and without him or the
Wizard to help we'll have a hard time, I guess. What shall we do first,
Piggins?"

"How about having a try at some of the Wizard's magic?" proposed the
pink pig, daringly, "then we might look in Ozma's magic picture and ask
it to show us where all of our missing friends are now."

"Now, why didn't I think of that myself?" cried Dorothy, and springing
up she started off on a run.

"Wait! Wait!" grunted Pigasus, pattering breathlessly after her.
"Remember, we must be very careful, my dear. No questions about Ozma,
no remarks that will arouse the anger of this scalawag Emperor, or
we'll both be clapped in a dungeon. We must pretend that we have
forgotten, too, and get away quietly later tonight."

This seemed so sensible a plan, Dorothy readily agreed to it, and
without attracting any attention at all they re-entered the palace and
hurried immediately to Ozma's small sitting room. But if they expected
the magic picture to solve their problem they were soon doomed to
disappointment. The picture was gone from its accustomed place and
the safe where Ozma kept her magic treasures and other valuables was
wide open and quite empty. A quick search of the Wizard's laboratory
proved equally discouraging. The Wizard's famous black bag was nowhere
in sight, the little hanging closet where he stored his transformation
powders and wishing pills was bare as the cupboard of old Mother
Hubbard.

"Whoever planned this thought of everything," wheezed Pigasus, sitting
heavily back on his haunches. "There is nothing here for us, Dorothy.
If I were you, I'd get a few things together and we'll leave right
away before anyone misses you." From the cheers, shouts, and hilarious
singing coming from the banquet hall it seemed probable that the
celebration would go on for hours. No one in that gay and foolish
company even thought of or missed the little girl and the pink pig
stealing so quietly through the dim halls of the palace.

"Ozma's palace," reflected Dorothy, looking resentfully over her
shoulder; but now it seemed strange, alien and completely unfriendly.
With a little shiver Dorothy drew her cloak more closely about her
and stepped resolutely out into the night. Pigasus pattered on ahead,
snorting a bit from sheer nervousness.

"Maybe we'd better fly," he grunted uneasily as Dorothy caught up with
him. "It's safer and it's faster, and the faster we get away from here
the better, I'm thinking."

"I've been thinking, too," answered Dorothy in a low voice, "perhaps
only the people in the Emerald City are under this forgetting spell,
Pigasus; perhaps if we fly to the Winkie Country, the Winkies will
remember their Emperor, the Tin Woodman, and will help us raise an
army so we can come back, conquer this old Skamperoo, and make him
tell where he has hidden all the proper rulers of Oz and the other
celebrities."

"That's the talk! That's the talk!" approved the pig, twinkling his
little blue eyes joyfully. "Up with you, up with you, my girl, but
remember, if you grow sleepy, let me know at once, so I can descend.
If you fall asleep, you might fall off my back, and think how I'd feel
then."

"Think how _I'd_ feel!" laughed Dorothy, her spirits lifting a bit at
the pink pig's comical conversation and enthusiastic seconding of her
plans. Seating herself carefully on his plump back, she quickly gave
the signal to start. Then up soared Pigasus, over the palace garden,
over the City Walls and away toward the East and the Yellow Lands of
the Winkies.

"Oh, I believe everything is going to be all right," thought Dorothy,
settling herself cozily between his wings.

"So do I," sniffed the pink pig, peering mischievously over his
shoulder.

    "I forgot you could read
    All the thoughts, Goodness Gracious!
    Of those on your back,
    Do you mind it Pigasus?"

"Not when they're nice thoughts like yours," puffed the little pig in
answer to Dorothy's surprised rhyme, and winking his eye jovially he
zoomed like a small pink Zeppelin through the sky.




CHAPTER 9

The Journey Begins


For several hours Pigasus flew without slackening his pace. Then,
as several suspicious little yawns and sighs floated past his keen
upstanding ears, he solemnly slanted downward. If he had chosen it on
purpose he could not have found a more comfortable place for Dorothy
to spend the night. They had already crossed the border and penetrated
far into the Land of the Winkies, and were now landing in the quiet
garden of a prosperous Winkie farmer. Set in the center of a dancing
bed of yellow daffodils and tulips stood a small summer house, and with
Dorothy rubbing her eyes sleepily, Pigasus trotted briskly into the
rustic cottage. The door was invitingly open and the moon lit up its
cozy one-roomed interior. Snorting with satisfaction, Pigasus pattered
over to a broad couch piled high with yellow cushions and, rolling
drowsily from his back, Dorothy burrowed contentedly into the center of
them, falling asleep before the pig reached his own bed, a soft woolly
rug on the hearth.

Pigasus slept lightly but well, and waking around six began to gaze
rather anxiously at the round yellow farm buildings just visible from
the door. The pink pig had had several unfortunate experiences with
farmers. They had a way of looking at his plump body that seemed
to reduce him at once to slices of bacon and sides of ham. One
enterprising fellow had actually caught him and shut him up in an
untidy pen. From this foolish prison Pigasus had escaped by spreading
his wings and flying away, but the mere mention of farmer gave him the
shivers. So now, moving impatiently about the little room, he waited
for Dorothy to awaken, and as she continued to slumber on, he flew
up over the mantel and swept a large yellow jug to the floor with
his wing. The crash of the falling jar aroused Dorothy at once, and
without stopping to explain, Pigasus suggested that they start off, and
Dorothy, not even noticing the broken jug, readily consented.

"We'll probably find a much better place to have breakfast as we fly
along," murmured Pigasus as Dorothy seated herself between his wings,
holding her small basket of supplies in her lap.

    "Would it do any harm to stop at the farm
    And enquire about Ozma and spread the alarm?"

asked Dorothy, who had rather counted on a cheerful breakfast at the
farm house.

"No, it wouldn't do any harm," answered Pigasus, rising in a straight
line from the tulip bed and winging rapidly over the yellow fields and
fences, "but neither would it do any good. Farmers never know what's
happening or going to happen. I tell you, though, we'll ask the first
person we meet."

    "Who would we meet in the air but a bird?
    Now really Pigasus, that's simply absurd."

"Some of the smartest people I know are birds," insisted the pig
stoutly. "Take Roger, for instance, he knows more than most of us have
forgotten. But look! A brook, a quiet wood! Stop! Listen! Look! For I
crave food!" Making a swift downward curve, Pigasus landed cleverly by
a rippling stream edged by some tall butternut trees. There were yellow
raspberries along the bank and the berries, with some of the sandwiches
Dorothy had brought with her, washed down by cool water from the brook
made a splendid breakfast.

"I wonder whether they'll have the tableaux and pageant without me,"
sighed Dorothy, biting slowly into a sardine sandwich, "and how'll they
manage the circus without you, Piggins, or the picnic supper without
Ozma, or the magic and fireworks without the Wizard."

"They've probably forgotten all about today's doings," mumbled Pigasus,
nosing busily among the leaves for ripe butternuts. "They'll probably
spend the time bumping their noses on the floor when that fat Emperor
comes waddling through the palace, and bending the right knee every
time his white horse sneezes or coughs. Pah!" Choking with indignation,
Pigasus began gobbling up so many butternuts, Dorothy feared he would
never be able to fly or walk again.

"Let's stay on the ground for awhile," she proposed, eyeing him rather
nervously as she packed the remaining sandwiches neatly back in the
basket. "I believe there's a path beyond those trees. Maybe it leads
to a town or village where we may meet someone who can tell us what we
want to know."

"You don't expect to find out where Ozma and the others are
hidden--straight off, do you?" Rubbing his back lazily against one of
the butternut trees, Pigasus looked quizzically at his earnest little
companion.

"No, I don't really expect that," said Dorothy, slipping the basket
over her arm, "but it would be pretty nice if we met somebody who even
remembered them, after all we've been through."

"I can hardly remember them myself unless you are sitting on my
back," admitted the pink pig, trotting soberly along at her side.
"This Emperor's magic must be strong medicine. Hello! Here comes a
fisherman." Pigasus pricked up both ears and his wings. "Shall I
question him or will you?"

Without bothering to answer, Dorothy ran eagerly toward the tall Winkie
who was coming leisurely along the path. He carried a basket and had
a fishing rod over his shoulder, and though his clothes were rough,
Dorothy could tell by his manner and bearing that he was a person of
some importance.

"Oh, please, Mr. Winkie," cried the little girl as he nodded politely
and would have passed them without stopping, "could you tell us who is
King here?"

"King?" answered the fisherman, taking his pipe out of his mouth
and looking kindly down at his small questioner. "Why, no one in
particular, my dear, but of course, we Winkies and the inhabitants
of the three other countries of Oz are governed from the capital by
Emperor Skamperoo, a great fellow, our Emp, and have you seen his white
horse?"

"Yes, I've seen it," said Dorothy, shutting her mouth rather grimly.

"But I thought Ozma was Queen?" wheezed Pigasus out of breath from
running after Dorothy and too many butternuts.

"Ozma? What a curious name," mused the fisherman, looking pensively
at the winged pig. "What gave you the idea that Ozma was our ruler?
Perhaps you are strangers here?"

"Well, it would seem so," puffed Pigasus, sitting down and panting a
little from sheer discouragement.

"Oh, you'll get used to us," laughed the fisherman with a breezy
wave. "Fine country, this; sorry I can't show you 'round, but as I've
promised my wife some fish for dinner, I'll have to be moving along.
Good day to you. Good day, little girl!"

"Good day," echoed Dorothy in a rather flat voice, as the fisherman,
lifting his hat, strode briskly into the wood. "You see!" she groaned.
"Even here everyone is bewitched. Oh, Piggins, what'll we do? No one in
Oz will help or believe us."

"Goose-tea and turnips! What if they don't!" Pigasus shook his head
impatiently. "There are other countries, aren't there? Take Ev, for
instance, or Rinkitink, or the Rose Kingdom. Why, there are lots of
places whose rulers will remember Ozma, my poor old friend Jinnicky and
the others. Come along, my girl, we've only just started.

    "While people roar for the Emperor
    We'll seek our rightful ruler
    From coast to coast from door to door
    Though foes grow cruel and crueller!

"What we need is some magic," finished Pigasus shrewdly. "Know a good
place to look for some?"

"The Gnome King has plenty of magic," reflected Dorothy, leaning
thoughtfully against a tree, "and Ozma and I really helped put him on
the throne, so surely he'll help us."

"Well, maybe, but I don't set great store by gnomes. They're tricky,
nevertheless we'll go to Ev and everywhere else till we restore this
country to its proper rulers." Pigasus looked so impressive with his
chest and cheeks puffed out with purpose, Dorothy gave him a quick hug.
"Down with the Emperor!" snorted Pigasus, though almost suffocated by
Dorothy's embrace. "And up with you, my patriotic young Princess."

"Now you make me feel like a real one. I'd almost forgotten I was a
Princess," smiled Dorothy, climbing obediently on his back. "I believe
everything will be better from now on."

"Well, it could be a lot worse," chuckled Pigasus, and flapping
his wings in a business-like manner, he rose gracefully into the
air and headed for the east. Rolling hills dotted with castles,
villages and towns, valleys, farm lands and forests flashed in an
ever-changing pleasant panorama below. At noon they came down beside
the Winkie River, finished up the rest of the sandwiches for lunch,
and then looked eagerly around for someone else to question. But the
yellow-bearded ferryman who presently came into sight poling his
old-fashioned raft across the turbulent river knew no more of Ozma and
the other rulers of Oz than the fisherman. But he told them many long
and boring stories of Skamperoo and his white horse Chalk. Dorothy
and Pigasus had to make such an effort to listen politely they were
relieved when he finally shoved off and began poling himself back to
the other side.

"Have you any idea how far we've come?" asked Pigasus, rolling over and
over in the cool grass as Dorothy made a face at the ferryman's back.

"Yes," said Dorothy, dropping full length beside him. "This river is in
about the center of the Winkie Kingdom, so we are easily half way. We
could reach the Deadly Desert by night, fly over tomorrow morning, and
either go North to Ev or stop at the underground castle of the Gnome
King. Even if Kalico won't lend us his army, he might lend us some
magic."

"Speaking of armies, they must have whisked the soldier with the green
whiskers off with the others. I don't remember seeing him after he
left the banquet hall, do you? Which just goes to show this Skamperoo
must be a stranger in Oz, for who else would have been afraid of our
precious old army? Why, he wouldn't even tread on a caterpillar. By
the way, has Kalico any magic that might tell us where to look for our
vanished friends and rulers?"

"I'm not sure of that," Dorothy told him dubiously, "but he has a
wizard, and Ruggedo who was King before Kalico had many magic treasures
and powers. He could make floors and walls spin round and round, open
yawning caverns at your feet or drop rocks down on your head without
even moving."

"Sounds lovely," sniffed Pigasus, coming to his feet with a short
grunt. "Say, haven't we trouble enough at home without going to
look for it? Do you really propose to visit this tricky little metal
monarch?"

"But Kalico is not nearly so bad as Ruggedo." Dorothy sat up and
smoothed her dress earnestly.

"Well, just as you wish," Pigasus shrugged his wings, "with me, people
are like eggs, either good, or bad. There's no such thing as a nearly
good egg, it's got to be completely good or it's just as bad as a bad
egg. D'ye see? And if this Gnome King is only as good as a nearly fresh
egg, I wouldn't trust him with my second best tooth brush. My idea
would be to go to the ruler of Ev."

"That's Evardo, a boy King. Ozma helped him, too," Dorothy explained
importantly. "But I tell you, Piggins, let's not decide till we cross
the Deadly Desert. Something might turn up before then. You never can
tell."

"No," agreed the pig, shaking his head sagely. "In Oz, you never can.
Suppose we continue a ways on foot? My wings are a bit stiff and we
really should be on the lookout for a friendly house or castle where we
could have supper and spend the night. I could eat a peck of spinach
or a bushel of apples right now, so hop up, my dear, and I'll stretch
a leg for the good of the coz and Oz!" Chattering away like the good
fellow he was, Pigasus trotted briskly across the fields and presently
came to a deep rustling forest. "Shall we fly over or walk through?"
questioned the pig, sniffing appreciatively the cool air drifting out
to them.

    "Let's go through it, in a wood
    There might be witches, some are good,
    A good witch with her magic powers
    Could solve this mystery of ours!"

"But suppose we meet a bad one," muttered Pigasus, stepping gingerly
into the forest and picking his way with great care between the giant
trees.

"Then we'll say goodbye and simply fly," laughed Dorothy, snapping her
fingers joyfully.

"Yes, but flying would not be so easy in here," objected Pigasus with a
troubled glance aloft, "these branches are interlocked so closely I'd
stick in a tree like a kite."

"Oh, we probably won't meet anyone," said Dorothy. Slipping off his
back, she walked along beside him, one arm flung cozily around his
neck. She was rather tired of making verses and thought she could think
better if her head were not continually buzzing with rhymes. After the
hot sunny meadows the cool shade of the forest was very welcome, but as
they advanced farther and farther into the shadows, it grew so dark and
grim the two began to look at each other in real alarm.

"Must be a squall or thunder shower brewing," observed Pigasus in a
faint voice.

"Yes, it couldn't be night time so soon," agreed Dorothy, looking
fearfully over her shoulder. The crackling of twigs as some large
animal made its way through the brush sounded like gun fire, and while
they were trying to make up their minds whether to run back or push
forward, a long hollow roar sent them scittering forward practically as
one. Missing trees by mere inches, they pelted at breakneck speed into
the dense and even gloomier stretch of woodland ahead.

"B-b-b-better climb on my back," directed Pigasus, halting at last from
lack of breath rather than inclination.

"But where are you? I can't even see you!" wailed Dorothy, feeling
about wildly.

"Here, here," grunted the frantic pig, making short dashes in four or
five directions and finally bumping violently into the groping little
girl.

Snatching at a wing, Dorothy pulled herself thankfully up and clasped
both arms round his neck. In a tense and breathless silence they
waited for it to grow lighter. They could not see even an inch before
their noses now, and the darkness and silence grew more oppressive and
unbearable every minute.

"J--j-j-just a cloud passing over," croaked Pigasus, trying to keep his
teeth from chattering. "J-j-j--j-j-j--say, what's that? Dorothy, do you
hear anything? F--f-footsteps--not four, TWO. Someone's coming. Hello,
there. Who are you? Watch out now, we're here."

"I see you," answered a flat, matter-of-fact voice.

    "Oh! He sees us yet we can't see him,
    I'm frightened deaf and dumb,
    Oh, try to fly, Pigasus, why
    Oh why'd we ever come?"

"That's what I'd like to know," went on the voice sternly. "Now, then,
will you come quietly or must I drag you along?"




CHAPTER 10

The Witch of the Black Forest


Dorothy and her companion were too stunned to answer, and in two
thumping steps the owner of the voice was upon them.

"Do you dare to defy a member of the Invincible Black Watch?" breathed
the stranger, grasping Pigasus roughly by the right wing.

"No! No! We don't exactly defy you," squealed the pig, flapping his
other wing frantically, "but how can we follow a blackguard whom we
cannot even see?"

"Then how do you know I am a blackguard?" demanded their captor
suspiciously.

"From your voice," screamed Pigasus, jerking this way and that way in
an effort to free himself. "I'd know you for a blackguard anywhere.
Unhand me, you surly black monster."

"You talk a lot for a fellow who cannot see," scoffed the Guard,
tightening his grip on the pig's wing. "Is the girl blind too?"

    "We're not blind at all and why should we be,
    In this horrid black forest how could we see?"

cried Dorothy, her indignation getting the better of her fright.

"Well, what color are your eyes?" Dorothy felt the hot breath of the
Guardsman on her neck as he leaned over to find out for himself.
"Blue!" he murmured in evident puzzlement. "And the pig's eyes are
blue, too. So _that's_ the reason."

"What has the color to do with it?" grunted Pigasus, growing a little
calmer as the conversation progressed without either of them coming to
actual harm.

"Everything," explained the Guard impressively. "In the Black Forest
one must have black eyes to see. See? Even a pig should know that."

"Well, I suppose I could run into a tree and black my eyes," sniffed
Pigasus bitterly. "But thank you, no. I prefer blue eyes and, now, if
you will kindly conduct us to the edge of this deep, dark, dangerous
and disgusting domain, we'll be delighted to go, leave, depart, and bid
you farewell forever."

"Oh, keep all that for Gloma," drawled the Guard indifferently. "I'm a
plain man and prefer plain language. Furthermore, no one leaves this
forest unless they break the black laws. If you break the law you are
cast out into the utter and awful light of eternal day. Now, then, come
along!" and giving the pig's wing a cruel tweak, he tramped doggedly
forward. Pigasus to save his precious feathers was obliged to come,
suiting his gait to the guard's strides.

"The best thing for us to do is to break the law at once," he whispered
mournfully to Dorothy as he blinked about in a desperate effort to
penetrate the gloom. Dorothy was too depressed to answer, and after
clearing his throat several times the Blackguard began to question
Pigasus.

"Why the wings?" he asked inquiringly. "I've seen many a farmyard
creature in my day, but never a pig with wings. Are you a pig or a kind
of balony bird? What right has a pig to wings?"

"Let go and I'll show you," puffed Pigasus, hoping the fellow's
curiosity would cause him to loosen his hold. But the Guard only
laughed at such an idea.

"Let you go? I should say not," he exclaimed with a little chuckle.
"You can show all your little tricks to Gloma and she can decide
whether to ride or roast you. This girl on your back will make a
splendid slave."

"Slave!" shrilled Pigasus, stumbling angrily along in the dark. "I'll
have you know that she is a Princess of Oz and lives in the palace of
Ozma of Oz."

"Then why did she not stay there?" observed the Guard reasonably
enough. "Anyone coming into this forest comes under the rule of Gloma,
Witch of the Black Forest."

"Witch?" coughed the pig, as Dorothy, tightening her clutch on his
neck, almost choked him.

"Yes, witch," repeated the forester calmly. "Now, then, hold up your
heads, you pale and pinky skins, for you are in for a good blacking."
And before Pigasus knew just what WAS happening the ground slipped away
from under him and he and Dorothy were plunged into the rough chilly
waters of a tumbling forest stream. Striking out with all four feet,
Pigasus managed to breast the flood, when he felt himself and Dorothy
being forced completely under. As a matter of fact, the Guard swimming
beside him had simply put his hand on Dorothy's head and pushed her
and the squealing pig beneath the surface. As they rose, gasping and
sputtering, he again seized Pigasus by the wing and pulled him quickly
to shore.

"There, now you're all right," he boomed heartily as Dorothy rolled off
the pig's back and began shaking the water from her eyes and hair and
wringing out her dripping skirts. "Just blot yourselves on the bank!"

"Bl-blot ourselves?" gurgled Pigasus, giving himself a violent shake.
"Do you take us for letters? You--you'll be sorry for this!" But right
in the middle of his angry sputters he gave a loud and astonished
squall. "Dorothy, Dorothy, I can see!" panted the pink pig exultantly.

"So can I," cried Dorothy, running excitedly toward him. "But
everything looks black--everything IS black, even you. Oh, Oh! You're
perfectly coal black, Piggins, am I black too?"

"Of course," answered the Guard in a bored voice, "and much better so.
Since you are black yourselves, you can see in the dark like the rest
of us, and what do you think of our forest now?" But Dorothy, instead
of telling him, held up her shiny black hands, touched a few strands
of her perfectly black hair, and then dropping her head on the pig's
shoulder began to weep bitterly. Like drops of ink the tears coursed
down her ebony cheeks, and though Pigasus did what he could to comfort
her, she continued to sob as if her heart would break.

"Well, I must say I call this ungrateful," the Guard shifted from one
foot to the other. "What's the matter with you, anyway? Black is a
splendid color, doesn't show dirt, doesn't fade or streak. Besides
it's against the law to be any other color in this forest."

"How dare you blacken us against our will?" burst out Pigasus
furiously. "Wait till I get loose, I'll--why, I'll tear you to pieces
and pitch you into a tar barrel."

"Oh, don't make me snort!" The huge Black Forester stared
contemptuously down at the winged pig, and now that Pigasus had a
better look at him he saw the folly of his threats, for the Black
Guard was well over six feet and lean and tough as black leather.
Evidently feeling he had wasted enough time on the pair, he gave them
a very black look and, jerking the pig's wing roughly, started walking
stolidly through the forest. Never had Dorothy felt so blue, or rather
so black and blue--so wet, so discouraged, so thoroughly miserable!
And when, sticking out her tongue to see if it was still pink she
discovered that it, too, was black, she began sobbing softly to herself.

"No one will know us any more," she decided dejectedly. "We're as
badly off now as Ozma and the others. Why, oh why, did we ever come
into this terrible forest?" She could feel Pigasus sniffing with
sympathy, and suddenly realizing that she was not behaving very well,
she straightened up. After all, she still was a Princess, even though
she was black. Princesses did not cry even when they were captured and
enchanted. Ozma was probably in a worse fix than this, and if Ozma was
being brave, she would be brave, too. So, with a great effort, Dorothy
stifled her sobs and began to look around her. To her surprise and
astonishment she discovered that the Black Forest was not dark and
gloomy as it had seemed before, but really quite beautiful. There were
many shades and degrees of blackness in the trees and flowers that
thickly carpeted the ground.

Black birds twittered musically in the branches overhead, and every
now and then a deer peered timidly out at her from the woodsy depths
between the tree trunks. The Guard, glancing over his shoulder and
catching her interested expression, ventured a smile.

"Why, he is not bad looking at all," thought Dorothy, with a pleased
start. "And maybe this witch may be a good witch--her name sounds
rather pretty." Quite comforted by these reflections, Dorothy whispered
a few rhymed remarks in the pig's ear. Pigasus, it must be confessed,
was as interested in what he saw as Dorothy, and when a sudden break
between the trees revealed a great black circular wall with a hundred
black flags floating from its many turrets, he gave an involuntary
grunt of admiration.

"You are about to enter the Royal Circle of Gloma, Witch of the Black
Forest," announced the Guard, raising his hand solemnly. "I trust you
will conduct yourselves in a fitting manner."

"Don't worry about OUR manners," shrilled Pigasus, tossing his head
airily. "We are accustomed to Royalty and move in exclusive circles at
home."

"And talk in circles, too," muttered the Guard impatiently. "Well,
well--do the best you can and bow three times as you approach the
throne."

"Throne?" queried Dorothy, slipping off the pig's back so she would not
have to talk in rhyme, for what she had to say to the black witch was
very serious indeed. "Is Gloma a Queen?"

"Certainly our witch is a Queen, a bewitching Queen," retorted the
Guard, taking Dorothy firmly by the hand and tightening his hold on
Pigasus. "Now, then, smile and look pleasant and perhaps she'll allow
you to be her slave."

"She wouldn't dare make me a slave," cried Dorothy, trying her best to
pull away from her captor.

"Just let her try it!" blustered Pigasus, scuffling unwillingly along
on the other side. But paying no attention to their struggles, the
Guard lifted his foot and kicked three times on a black ebony door in
the wall, and a tall Watchman dressed in a black leather suit admitted
them to the Royal Circle. It was all so different from what Dorothy
had been expecting she almost forgot her anger. Enclosed by the black
marble wall was a strange and enchanting garden. Now, Dorothy had never
seen a black garden, nor dreamed one could be so beautiful. Here sable
willows mirrored their feathery branches in long shining pools, here
black plum and cherry trees flaunted their fragile black blossoms,
and jet black fountains sent their smoking waters high into the quiet
air. Vast satiny expanses of lawn were dotted with a hundred beds of
dusky roses, tulips, velvety pansies and daffodils. Built all round the
circular wall was a low but sumptuous black castle, and seated on an
ebony throne in the center of her stately black garden was the Black
Queen herself, looking, Dorothy was thankful to discover, much more
like a Queen than a witch. Gloma's face was sweet and serious, her
hair fine and glossy as a raven's wing. She was dressed in a trailing
robe of black chiffon that billowed in lacy clouds round her feet. A
sparkling crown of jet and long jet earrings were her only ornaments.
On each side of the Black Queen crouched a sleek black leopard and
behind the ebony throne stood ten tall foresters with gleaming axes.
"Like headsmen in a medieval history book," thought Dorothy as she and
Pigasus were dragged rapidly forward. Gloma, gazing dreamily into a
black crystal set on a marble stand before the throne, seemed entirely
unaware of their presence till the harsh voice of the Black Guard
announced them.

"Hail! Black and Imperial Majesty!" called the Guard deferentially,
approaching the throne. "Two prisoners, a pig and a Princess, whom I
found wandering unlawfully in our forest, and whom I took the liberty
of blacking."

Dorothy, jerking away from the Guard, was about to explain how she and
Pigasus had lost their way, when Gloma jumped to her feet with a sharp,
agonized scream.

"Blotz, General Blotz, what have you done?" panted the Black Queen,
beating her hands wildly together. "Your stupidity has ruined us all!
You have blackened and insulted my most dangerous and mortal enemy!
Go! Leave! Begone and never darken my doors again! Oh, why--why did
you do it? Why have you brought her here? After all these years must I
too be destroyed and obliterated?" Sinking back on her throne, Gloma
covered her face with her hair and began rocking backward and forward
in agitation and sorrow.

"Why, why--I believe she's afraid of you!" puffed Pigasus, twitching
his tail with excitement and interest as General Blotz, looking quite
dazed, began to move unhappily toward the gate in the wall.

"Quick!" he grunted as the ten foresters back of the throne rushed
forward to surround them. "Do something, Dorothy, while she is still
afraid of you. Make her unblacken us. Tell her to set us free. Hurry!
Hurry, before she discovers you are only a harmless little girl."
But Dorothy, only half listening to the pig, boldly thrust aside the
foresters and ran over to the Black Queen.

"Why are you afraid of ME?" asked Dorothy, speaking rapidly but
distinctly. "I did not come here on purpose. Pigasus and I are lost and
need your help."

"Help?" shivered Gloma, shrinking as far away from Dorothy as possible.
"Why should I help you? Are you not Dorothy, the mortal girl who
destroyed the powerful Witches of the East and West?"

"But that was long ago," explained Dorothy breathlessly as two of the
Queen's henchmen seized her roughly by the arms. "And they were bad and
wicked witches. Why should I wish to destroy a good and beautiful witch
like you?"

"Do not listen to her. Do not let her touch you. She means to destroy
and ensnare you," hissed the foresters as they dragged Dorothy away
from the throne. "Down with all mortals! Away to the dungeons with
her! Wing that pig! Chop off their heads!" At these loud savage cries,
startled faces appeared at the windows of the black palace, and
struggling in the midst of the foresters Dorothy heartily wished she
had taken the pig's advice.

"Shall we take off her head _now_ or later?" puffed the fellow who had
hold of her left arm.

"Now!" roared the axman who had hold of her right.

"Stop!" commanded the Queen, rising suddenly. "You cannot harm this
girl. Do you not see the star of protection on her forehead?" At these
words the woodsmen stared fearfully down at Dorothy, and sure enough,
shining in the center of her black forehead was a pure white star.
Pigasus, who had not noticed it before himself, gave a grunt of relief
and began kicking out in every direction.

"How about the pig?" yelled a forester, leaning down to rub his shins.
"Shall we take off his head?"

"If you dare touch Pigasus," screamed Dorothy, resolved to use the
powers she was supposed to have, "I'll turn you all to bats and beetles
and horrid black ants." A breathless silence followed Dorothy's threat.
The foresters still kept their hold on the prisoner, but at as great a
distance as they could manage.

"Do as you wish, comrades," the tallest of the axmen solemnly broke the
silence, "but I'm for letting them alone. I've never been an ant yet
and don't intend to begin now. Come--away to the dungeons with them.
This is not for us to settle with axes, it is a case for witch work."

"You are right." The Queen, who had been standing motionless as a
statue, took a decisive step forward. "Take them away, but not to the
dungeons! Take them to the dark room in my imperial palace. They shall
see what happens to those who defy Gloma, Witch of the Black Forest."

"Aye! Aye! They shall see," muttered the foresters, pushing Dorothy and
Pigasus roughly along ahead of them.




CHAPTER 11

Black Magic


Dorothy and Pigasus were hustled into the Black Castle, rushed down its
shiny black corridors and thrust into a great, dark, dome-shaped room,
so quickly they had no opportunity to exchange a word.

"Well, anyway, even if it is a dark room we can still see," whispered
Dorothy, as the foresters in their haste to get away from such
dangerous prisoners fairly tumbled over each other to get through the
door.

"Yes," puffed Pigasus glumly as the key rasped in the lock, "and the
first thing I see is that there are no windows. If there was a window
we could fly off. As it is, this witch will make short work of us."

"I wonder how much magic she really knows," sighed Dorothy, seating
herself wearily on a black velvet stool.

"I wonder!" said Pigasus, flinging himself crossly on the floor beside
her. "And what's all this stuff about your being her worst enemy? Did
you really destroy two witches, and could you destroy her?" Although
Pigasus had lived in the Emerald City for several years, he was not
familiar with all of the history that had taken place before his
arrival.

"Oh, all that happened when I first came here," explained Dorothy,
clasping her knees with both hands. "You see, when the cyclone blew
me from Kansas to Oz, my house fell on the wicked witch who ruled the
Munchkins and killed her. The Munchkins, supposing I had done it on
purpose, came out and thanked me and gave me the witch's silver shoes.
Then, when I reached the Emerald City and begged the Wizard, who was
ruler of Oz at that time, to send me back to Kansas, he promised to do
so if I killed the wicked witch who ruled the Winkies."

"And did you?" asked Pigasus, rolling over and looking up at Dorothy
with real admiration.

"Well, that was sort of an accident, too," admitted the little girl
honestly. "When the Tin Woodman, the Scarecrow, and the Cowardly Lion
and I reached the witch's yellow castle, the witch captured us all and
made me work hard from morning till night. But one day," Dorothy with
an anxious eye on the door hurriedly continued, "one day when she tried
to steal my silver shoes, I got SO mad I picked up a bucket of water
I'd been using for scrubbing and flung it right over her head."

"And did that destroy her?" Pigasus demanded incredulously.

"Yes," said Dorothy, "it melted her down to nothing at all."

"But what about the star? I never noticed that before?"

"That's where the Good Witch of the North comes in," answered Dorothy
proudly. "Right after my house fell on the Wicked Witch of the West,
she appeared and when she discovered I was a mortal she kissed me on
the forehead to keep me from harm all the time I was in Oz. It only
shows now because I'm black, I suppose."

"Well, why didn't it keep you from turning black, if it's so
wonderful?" Pigasus switched his curly tail resentfully.

"I don't know," Dorothy looked thoughtfully around Gloma's strange
laboratory, "maybe the spell has worn off, maybe there's no harm in
being black."

"Humph! There may not be any harm in it, but it's pretty sad and
mournful, if you ask me," grunted Pigasus, glaring savagely at his
satiny black sides. "I prefer myself pink and you pink and white the
way you were. Tea and turnips, first thing I know you'll be powdering
your nose with ashes and soot! But, after all--" Pigasus swung himself
energetically to his feet, "that is the least of our troubles. What
do you suppose this witch will do to us now? And what can we do to
her? Sa--hay!" Spreading his wings, Pigasus spun round in a triumphant
circle. "All we have to do is to find some water. Why, it's simple as
soup. Quick, Dorothy, look and see whether there is any water around
here, then as soon as Gloma pops her nose in the door we'll put her out
as neatly as you did that other witch."

"But those other witches were bad and Gloma seems really good and
beautiful," objected Dorothy, looking around without much enthusiasm.

"Beautiful or not, she's a dark and dangerous lady," insisted the pig,
beginning his search in a methodical way, "and it's her beauty or ours,
remember, this Black Queen is quite determined to destroy us, if we
don't destroy her first."

"Yes, I suppose so," agreed Dorothy. Slowly following Pigasus, she
pulled aside black velvet curtains, peered behind cupboards and screens
and looked under sofas and chairs. There were many ebony cabinets
standing against the wall, but each one was securely locked and except
for a great black crystal ball on a table in the center of the room,
there seemed to be no magic apparatus at all. A dark lantern swinging
from the domed ceiling cast its curious luminous black rays into every
corner of the witch's laboratory. After circling the room three times,
Pigasus and Dorothy were forced to admit there was no water of any kind
or even a pail available.

"We'll have to think of something else," grumbled the pig, as Dorothy
again sat down on her stool.

"Are you thinking?" he demanded sharply, as the little girl stared
absently at the tips of her boots.

"No," confessed Dorothy frankly, "I was just wondering why Gloma calls
this a dark room. She must know since General Blotz ducked us under the
Black River we can see in here as well as in the forest."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," muttered the pig, coming over and
crowding as close to Dorothy as he could. It almost seemed as if
someone had heard him, for scarcely were the words out of his mouth
before the dark lantern over their heads sputtered ominously and went
out, leaving them in a perfectly pitch black total darkness.

"I--I--I felt something like this would happen," faltered Pigasus,
throwing his left wing protectingly around Dorothy. "Listen! Someone is
coming."

A light sure footstep sounded in the passage--came closer, then a
sudden puff of air told them that someone had opened the door.

"Remember, Piggins dear, no matter what happens, we must be brave,"
whispered Dorothy, trembling a little in spite of herself.

"It's hard to be brave in the dark, but I'll do my best. Here, lean
on me." And though the happenings of the next ten minutes were enough
to try the courage of a dozen lions, Pigasus kept his word and never
uttered a sound. As the two prisoners clung desperately together the
crystal on the center table received a sudden shattering blow.

Up spurted a perfect fountain of fire coming down over Dorothy and
Pigasus in a shower of red hot sparks. But the sparks fell harmlessly
as raindrops on the winged pig and the little girl, and after a great
hiss and sputter went out, leaving the laboratory in darkness again.
Scarcely had they recovered from this shock before a second blow was
struck, and this time a hundred huge, hideous, black snakes came
writhing out of the crystal, their green glittering eyes lighting up
the room with a terrifying sulphurous light. The great twisting mass
grew more and more menacing, sending out its long curving bodies like
arms to encircle them. This, thought Dorothy, burying her head in
Pigasus' wing, was black magic at its worst. Now she could feel the
clammy coils all around her and waited breathlessly to be crushed
and broken. But the cold, heavy bodies seemed powerless and without
weight and presently they, too, slipped away and vanished. A shower of
silver arrows followed the snakes and a cloud of choking green smoke,
the arrows. But each blow on the crystal only seemed to prove further
the potency of the kiss set on Dorothy's forehead so long ago by the
Good Witch of the North. And because she clung so tightly to Pigasus,
he, too, came unharmed through the hair-raising ordeal. As they both,
almost afraid to breathe, waited for the next blow on the dark crystal,
a long, tremulous sigh came mournfully through the darkness.

"It is no use," murmured a discouraged voice, "my black magic is of no
avail. Come, then, destroy me if you must, but do it quickly, and I
pray you will spare my people who have never harmed or hurt a living
soul in Oz."

With a little thrill, Dorothy recognized the voice of the Black Queen,
and as the dark lantern again shed its twinkling rays over the circular
apartment, Gloma rose and came calmly and rapidly toward them. Dorothy
and Pigasus, who had just had their own bravery so severely tested,
could not but admire the spirit and bravery of the Witch of the Black
Forest. Even though she was sure she faced certain destruction, she
walked proudly erect, her head flung back, her great mass of dusky hair
billowing behind her.

"Stop!" cried Dorothy, on whom the Queen's dark beauty had made a
deep and lasting impression. "Why should we wish to destroy you? We
came through the Yellow Wood and from there into the Black Forest,
but we only wished to go through as quickly as possible. We are in
trouble ourselves. Did you know that Ozma of Oz, the Wizard of Oz, the
four rulers of Oz, and many others have vanished? There is a false
Emperor on the throne in the Emerald City and under the magic of his
enchantment all the people have forgotten Ozma ever was their Queen.
Pigasus and I, escaping this enchantment, are trying to find Ozma and
someone to help us restore her to power." Dorothy spoke with such
earnestness and feeling, Gloma could not help believing her.

"Then--then you did not come here to destroy me at all?" she exclaimed
with an unhappy and embarrassed glance at her two prisoners. "Forgive
me for using my magic powers, I only wanted to save myself and my
foresters from obliteration."

"Oh, that's all right." Dorothy dismissed with a careless shrug the
danger and discomfort of the last hour. "You thought we were going to
destroy you, so, of course, you tried to destroy us first. That was
fair enough and I don't blame you, but now that we understand each
other better, perhaps you will help us? Do you, yourself, remember
Ozma, and is your magic powerful enough to tell us where she is?"

Seating herself in a chair near Dorothy's footstool, Gloma stared
thoughtfully at the velvet carpet.

"I know or remember nothing of the present history of Oz," she told
them after a short silence. "At the time the Wizard of Oz ruled Oz I
ruled by royal right and inheritance the entire southern part of the
Winkie Empire. Although the Wicked Witch of the East claimed dominion
over the whole country, she only succeeded in bringing the central
and northern parts under her control. We in the South were free, but
when word came that a mortal girl had destroyed both the Witch of the
East and the Witch of the West, I, being a witch, naturally supposed I
would be the next one to suffer destruction. So, calling together the
strongest and most faithful of my subjects, I begged them to retire
with me to a safe and hidden spot where we could live in safety and
tranquillity far from the wars, dangers, and changing fortunes of the
times. Many of my Southern Winkies cast their lot with the new order,
marching off to the North, but many came with me, and retiring to this
hidden forest, we cut ourselves off from all intercourse with the
other Kingdoms of Oz, living the free and happy life of foresters and
enjoying all the beauty and benefits of outdoor sport and activity. Of
the rulers in Oz since the Wizard, I know nothing whatever."

"And were you always black?" inquired Pigasus, peering inquisitively up
into Gloma's face, and wondering whether the two small black wings on
each side of her forehead were as useful as his own.

"No," admitted the Queen, smiling graciously down at her plump
questioner. "That was part of our disappearing plan, in a dark forest
we were so much less likely to be found or discovered, so with my
knowledge of the black arts I turned myself and my subjects as black as
you now see us."

"What a shame! What a pity!" Dorothy jumped up and perched cozily
on the arm of the Black Queen's chair. "If you had just come to the
Emerald City, we could have been friends all this while."

"Why not begin now?" smiled the Queen, putting her arm affectionately
round Dorothy's waist. "And you must not be sorry for us, for here we
have been perfectly happy and content and I have grown so fond of my
black forest and castle I would not change their lovely sable for all
the other colors in the rainbow. But tell me quickly again all that has
happened in Oz and perhaps I can make amends for the shabby treatment
you have received at our hands."

Contritely the Black Queen leaned down to pat Pigasus, and as Dorothy
sketched in most of the important happenings in Oz since the reign
of the Wizard, the little pig pressed closely against her side. With
many interested nods and exclamations Gloma listened, and when Dorothy
described the great festival that had been planned to celebrate the
discovery of Oz by mortals, how Ozma and all her most important
visitors and advisers had vanished at the banquet, and a false Emperor
taken possession of the palace, the Queen rose and walked solemnly over
to the black crystal. But after a long look into its inky depths, Gloma
turned sadly away.

"My black magic cannot help you," she told them regretfully. "The
rulers of Oz and your other friends have been enchanted by green
magic, and only by green magic can they be released and restored to
power. But I can assist you in other ways," added the Queen, noting
the disappointed expressions on the faces of her two new friends. "One
tap of my scepter will transport you to any country and here--" from a
drawer in the ebony table the Queen drew a small black round box--"in
this container you will find a most powerful powder of darkness. One
pinch of this powder tossed into the air will cause a black cloud a
mile square to envelop and totally darken a city or country. While no
one in this darkened area will be able to see you, it will be perfectly
possible for you to see them as clearly as in the usual daylight. In
case of danger it affords a safe way of escape from the enemy. To
dispel the cloud you merely close the box."

"That ought to be just the thing to use if we ever get back to the
Emerald City," observed Pigasus, scratching his left ear with his right
hind paw. "Why, we could swoop down on this Emperor, bind him fast and
tweak him by the nose before he even knew what was happening."

"Why, so we could!" beamed Dorothy, brightening up at once. "And now,
though of course black is a perfectly beautiful color, could you change
us back to the colors we were when we came?" Dorothy spoke timidly, for
she did not want to hurt Gloma's feelings.

"As soon as you leave the forest you will resume your natural
coloring," the witch assured them with a little smile. "And where, may
I ask, were you planning to go first?"

"Well," said Dorothy slowly, "I thought perhaps the countries outside
of Oz might not be under this forgetting spell and that we might find
in one of them a King who would lend us his army and help us to chase
Skamperoo out of the Emerald City. Could you transport us as far as Ev,
your Majesty?"

"As easily as I could invite you to dinner," Gloma assured them with
an energetic little nod, "and I hope you will not only have dinner but
rest yourselves before you start again on your dangerous journey."

"Pigasus--Pigasus, did you hear that? She can transport us all the way
to Ev! Didn't I tell you we might find a good witch in this forest? Now
everything will be all right!"

    "So glad we met and got acquainted,
    You're not so black as you are painted!"

chuckled Pigasus, breaking into rhyme from sheer good humor and
relief. "And did I hear your Majesty invite us to dinner?"

"You certainly did," said Gloma, and dropping them a little bow, she
swept gaily through the door.

"D'ye suppose it will be a black dinner?" whispered Pigasus, trotting
briskly along beside Dorothy. "I've heard of light repasts, but never
of dark ones. But I don't care. I'm hungry enough to eat tar pudding
with cinder sauce."

"Sh--hh!" warned Dorothy with a little laugh. "She'll hear you."




CHAPTER 12

Farewell to the Black Forest


Although the dinner in the Black Castle was as dark a repast as
Pigasus had predicted, never had he or Dorothy dined more royally nor
partaken of more delicate fare. The black bean soup was followed by
a black fish course, then came the dark meat of some superbly cooked
fowl, "probably cinder-roosters," as Pigasus remarked in one of his
humorous asides. The licorice was the most delicious of the vegetables,
though the black asparagus and potatoes were appetizing, too. Black
bread was served with the black grape salad and plum cake with black
frosting with the black ices and blackberryade. The members of Gloma's
household, now that their fear of Dorothy had been explained away,
proved so interesting and merry, the time simply flew. The black lace
frocks of the women and children and the soft leather suits of the
black foresters were simple but elegant, and the Black Queen herself,
so lovely just to look at her gave one a curious thrill. General Blotz,
recalled from banishment by Blackjack, the Queen's pet Jackdaw, proved
a singer of no mean ability, and regaled the company with many famous
black ballads and hunting songs. Pigasus, too, contributed to the
general fun and gaiety with some of his best songs and verses and ate
so many slices of the black plum cake, Dorothy began to feel positively
uneasy.

Interesting and delightful as it all was, the little girl could not
help thinking of Ozma and her other unfortunate and captive friends,
and as the black banjo clock in the corner of the hall struck a
musical ten, she lightly touched the arm of Gloma. The Black Queen had
graciously placed Dorothy beside her.

"I think we had better go now," whispered Dorothy earnestly. "If
Pigasus eats any more he'll fall asleep and we'll have to wait till
morning." Gloma smiled and nodded understandingly, then pressing
Dorothy's hand for "Goodbye," stole quietly off to her workshop.
Dorothy tried to signal Pigasus across the gleaming black table, but
before she could catch his eye he had vanished, and she herself was
whirling dizzily through space.

"Maybe it would have been better to have spent the night in the
castle," mused Dorothy, spreading her arms like wings as she sailed
through the air. "I don't suppose we'll be able to see in the dark now
that we are out of the Black Forest, and goodness knows where we'll
come down." There was no moon, and peer about as she would, Dorothy
could not even catch a glimpse of the flying pig. "Of course," Dorothy
went on conversationally to herself, "we could have flown all this
distance on Piggin's back, but this is quicker and less trouble, but
oh, dear, I do hope he's all right." Her worry about the pink pig
ended rather abruptly, for at that very moment she began to somersault
over and over in a headlong drop to the ground. A painful grunt as she
landed assured her of the pig's presence.

"What you trying to do? Puncture me?" puffed Pigasus, as Dorothy with
an embarrassed little gasp of apology rolled off his back. "Such
rudeness!" grunted her companion, scrambling to his feet with an angry
snort. "Flinging us out of her castle as if we'd been garbage. Yes,
garbage," he repeated, winking rapidly.

"It was my fault," cried Dorothy, moving over to smooth out his ruffled
wing feathers. "I asked her to transport us to Ev, and OH, PIGGINS!" By
the light of a crooked lamp set in a crevice of the rocky path on which
they found themselves Dorothy regarded him rapturously. "You're pink
again!"

"Am I? Well, that's something." Waddling closer to the lamp, Pigasus
examined himself with careful attention. "You're pink, too," he said
a little more pleasantly, "but these magic transportations are a bit
sudden, if you ask me, and I'm not at all sure I like this spot. Where
are we, anyway?"

"Oh, it's all right and now we don't have to travel at all. We're
here," announced Dorothy, who had hurried on a few steps ahead.

"And where is here?" grumbled Pigasus, following pompously, more from
too much plum cake than from a desire to be disagreeable.

"Why, at Kalico's Mountain!" exclaimed Dorothy, pointing excitedly to
a small door in the rocky surface before them. "Now we don't have to
decide between the Gnome King and the King of Ev. Since we are here,
we'll try Kalico first."

"Trying him is all very well, but I hope he does not try any magic on
us," yawned Pigasus, squinting sleepily up at the brass sign hung on
the stout wooden door. "What does it say there?" A green lantern hung
over the door and by its flickering light Dorothy read slowly:

    "Back door of the Gnome King's Underground Castle. No dogs, babies
    or chickens allowed. No gold fish wanted. No peddlers or snailsmen
    need apply. Keep out and stay out. This means YOU."

"Oh, that's all right," laughed Dorothy as Pigasus looked rather
alarmed at the sternly worded notice. "We're not babies or chickens or
gold fish, and Kalico's a friend of mine. Come on!" Lifting the knocker
and smiling confidently, Dorothy knocked three times on the Gnome
King's back door.




CHAPTER 13

In Kalico's Castle


"What is it, Shoofenwaller?" Kalico, the thin and gray little King of
the Gnomes, peered impatiently down from the great carved gem-studded
rock that served him for a throne. "Shoo--go away--you know this is my
hour for retiring! Go away, I tell you! And if you never come back it
will still be too soon."

"Yes, but your MAJESTY!" While obediently backing toward the door, the
King's Royal Chamberlain extended his arms imploringly. "Something has
come up, the Long Eared Hearer reports footsteps on the South Mountain.
Two visitors are about to enter the back door of our castle."

"Visitors!" exclaimed Kalico, getting up with an impatient flounce. "At
this hour! Well, tell them to go away and come back tomorrow. Here,
wait a moment." As Shoofenwaller, shrugging his narrow shoulders,
turned to carry out his orders, Kalico changed his mind. "Just hand me
my expectacles," commanded the King crossly, "I may as well have a look
at the prowling pests."

With another shrug, Shoofenwaller stepped to a small cabinet, and
taking a pair of smoked glasses from the top drawer, handed them up to
the King. Now Kalico's expectacles were very useful, enabling him to
see who was coming before they arrived, and clapping them hurriedly
on his thin nose, he stared intently off into space. At what he saw,
the King's expression changed from irritation to vague uneasiness.
"Botheration!" he muttered morosely. "It's one of those mortals from
the Emerald City. Why can't those girls stay home--always poking their
noses into other people's affairs and trying to save somebody from
something."

"Which one is it?" asked Shoofenwaller, blinking.

"It's Dorothy," sighed Kalico, taking off his expectacles and putting
them absently into his pocket, "and there's a queer kind of winged pig
with her. A pig with wings, mind you. Rooks and rockets! Wonder what
they want?"

"Why not find out?" suggested Shoofenwaller reasonably.

"No! No, not tonight," Kalico waved his hands determinedly. "Just
conduct them to the red guest cave, Shoofenwaller, and bring them to me
in the morning." With a stiff bow the Royal Chamberlain backed out the
door and pattered away to admit the visitors.

"And about time, too," thought Dorothy as the rock door opened
cautiously and the little crooked Gnome thrust out his head.

"In the name of King Kalico the First, I hereby welcome you to Gnome
Man's Land," began Shoofenwaller pompously.

"Oh, that's all right," yawned Pigasus wearily, "what we want is a
place to sleep, and remember--no trickery!" he added sharply as the
Gnome stood aside so that they could enter the narrow rock passageway.

"I suppose your Highness comes on a matter of state?" remarked
Shoofenwaller, turning from Pigasus with an involuntary grimace. Pigs
reminded him of ham--ham reminded him of eggs, and eggs were immediate
death and destruction to gnomes.

"Well, yes," admitted Dorothy, adjusting her step to the short, crooked
legs of the King's little Counselor. "What I really need is an army!"

"An army?" groaned Shoofenwaller, realizing what bad news this would be
for his master. "Our army?"

"Oh, let's talk about all that in the morning," wheezed Pigasus as
Dorothy briskly nodded her head in answer to Shoofenwaller's question.
The pink pig was taking sleepy sidelong squints at the elegantly
excavated and gem-encrusted corridors of the Gnome King's underground
dwelling.

"Just what his Majesty suggested," muttered the Chamberlain, sweeping
open a red iron door with a ruby knob. "I trust you will be comfortable
here and rest well. If your Highness wishes a cup of Kalicocoa, or your
friend a mud pie or pudding, just ring the bell. Goodnight, Princess!
Goodnight--er--er PIG!"

"Sa-hay--I resent that!" Pigasus cocked his ears belligerently as the
King's crooked little messenger bowed himself out the door. "Did you
notice the way he said 'pig,' Dorothy?"

"Yes," said Dorothy with a little yawn, "I did, but then all gnomes are
sassy and you'll have to get used to them. If Kalico helps us, that's
all we care about."

Pigasus nodded rather grimly. "I suppose this is what you call getting
down to bed rock," he murmured, looking around the red rock apartment
with his amused blue stare. "Hope the beds aren't rock, too." Punching
a red sofa experimentally and finding it surprisingly soft, the pink
pig jumped up and settled himself cozily among the cushions. Pigasus
had lived in castles and palaces all his life and was so accustomed
to comfort and luxury that without bothering to look around Kalico's
richly appointed guest cavern he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Dorothy, tiptoeing through a curtain into an adjoining red rock cavern
that served as a bedroom, undressed quickly and putting out the ruby
lamps, slid thankfully between the red silk sheets and was soon as
soundly asleep as Pigasus.

They were just having breakfast, served by two small gnomen in their
red sitting-cave, when Shoofenwaller came hurrying in to announce that
Kalico was ready and waiting to see them. Earlier the Gnome King and
his Chamberlain had discussed the possible purposes of Dorothy's visit
and Kalico had been extremely annoyed to learn that she wanted to
borrow his army.

"And you will lend it to her, all our hundred thousand trained Gnomen
Yoemen?" questioned Shoofenwaller anxiously.

"What else can I do?" Kalico snapped his little gray eyes unhappily.
"Remember it was Dorothy who stole the former Gnome King's magic belt
and really was the means of my becoming King."

"That's so," muttered Shoofenwaller, pulling his ear reflectively.
"But why not use a little strategy in this conference, King? Why not
pretend to help her and at the same time safeguard your own interests?
Lending our army is a dangerous experiment. Suppose an enemy threatened
us while our fighting forces were in the Emerald City? Anything could
happen. Put her off--make excuses," urged Shoofenwaller craftily. This
suggestion fell in exactly with the Gnome King's wishes, and curious to
know what really had brought Dorothy to his castle, he sent his little
Chamberlain hurrying off to bring her to the throne room.

"And now for a little Kalicoaxing," sniffed Pigasus, waddling
unconcernedly along beside Dorothy under magnificent arches, over
artificial terraces and rock gardens, gazing down long vistas of yet
unmined shafts where hundreds of gnomes worked busily with picks and
shovels to further enrich the already enormously rich and powerful
little Metal Monarch. Kalico, as they entered the beautifully furnished
and lavishly carved cave that he used for a throne room, came hurrying
to meet them.

"So charming of you to come all this way just to see me," murmured
the Gnome King, taking both of Dorothy's hands in his own and bowing
graciously as she introduced Pigasus. "Always delighted to entertain a
Princess from the Court of her Royal Highness, Ozma of Oz!"

"Oh, Kalico--then you DO remember her! Oh, please, dear Kalico, will
you help us to find her?"

"Find her? Why, what under the earth do you mean? Is Ozma lost?"
Kalico's long face at Dorothy's excited greeting grew visibly longer,
and after the little girl had explained the disappearance of Ozma and
the others, the enchantment of all the people in Oz, and the coming
of Skamperoo to the Emerald City, Kalico climbed wearily back on his
throne and sat down.

"This--this is shocking!" faltered Kalico, mopping his forehead with a
long gray cobweb, "and just what do you and this--this--pig intend to
do about it?"

"What do YOU intend to do about it?" Rather tired of being called a
pig, Pigasus planted all four feet and stared defiantly up at the
perturbed Metal Monarch.

"Well--er--that is--er--I don't see that it is MY affair at all!"
mumbled Kalico with a rueful nod of his head. "Anyone powerful enough
to conquer Ozma and Oz would pay small attention to opinions of mine."

"But we don't want your opinions," stated Pigasus bluntly. "What we
want is your army and any magic you can conveniently spare!"

"Please, Kalico, do help us," begged Dorothy, running up the carved
rock steps of the throne and seating herself coaxingly on the arm.
"With all your thousands of gnomes and many magic powers, we can
certainly drive Skamperoo out of the Emerald City."

"Well, of course," sighed Kalico, flattered by Dorothy's reference to
his magic powers, "I'll do what I can, but if what you say is true,
it will take more than one army to reconquer Oz." As he said this,
Kalico looked across at Shoofenwaller, and the little Chamberlain,
well pleased with his master's strategy, gave him an encouraging
wink. "I tell you what I'll do," Kalico crossed his legs and regarded
Dorothy through half-closed eyes. "If you find another King willing
to send _his_ army into Oz, I will also send mine. Remember, even
Ozma's closest friends and retainers have forgotten her and the entire
population, now fully convinced Skamperoo is their rightful ruler, will
rise to oppose us."

"Yes, yes, but have you no magic that will dispel this wicked
enchantment or help us to locate our friends and sovereigns?" demanded
Pigasus, not wholly satisfied with the Gnome King's offer.

"Gnome magic may be of no use in this case; nevertheless, I will
send for my wizard and see what can be done." Remembering their last
experience with magic, Dorothy stepped down from Kalico's throne and
seated herself quietly on the pink pig's back, and Pigasus, grunting
with relief, squinted suspiciously at the small, ugly Wizard of the
Underworld, who presently came shuffling into the royal presence
chamber. As quickly as possible Kalico explained to the Wizard all the
dire happenings in Oz.

"Do you think our magic spyglass could locate Ozma and her missing
friends and associates or tell us whether they have been utterly and
completely destroyed?" demanded the Gnome King gravely.

Potaroo, the King's magician, stood pulling his straggly whiskers for
several moments after Kalico had finished speaking, then he stamped
four times on the flagged floor with his right foot. Almost instantly
four gnome wise men in peaked hats came into the throne room wheeling
a huge telescope before them. Dorothy and Pigasus, prickling with
suspense and terror, watched the Wizard screw his eye to the end of
the twisting spyglass. After several snorts and surprised exclamations,
Potaroo straightened up.

"The missing Ozians and the Wizard of Ev are hidden away in Thunder
Mountain," he stated in a hoarse whisper. An electric little silence
followed Potaroo's disclosure, and as no one uttered a sound, the
wizard continued, "As the spyglass is now pointing north, I believe you
will find Thunder Mountain in that direction, but I must warn you that
it will be a long and exceedingly dangerous journey."

    "Danger? Well what do we care for that
    Quick somebody fetch me my coat--my hat--"

"This hardly seems a time for jokes and verses," murmured Kalico,
looking at Dorothy in mild disapproval.

    "She has to make verses and rhymes when she rides me
    I'm a poetry pig and a lucky star guides me!"

grunted Pigasus, too overcome by the wizard's awful news to realize he
was speaking in verse himself.

"Oh, what difference does it make?" cried Dorothy, jumping quickly off
his back, "we must go to Thunder Mountain at once. Pigasus can fly
there."

"Here, here, not in such a hurry," exclaimed Kalico, secretly
delighted at the prospect of being so easily rid of his troubles.
"We must pack you a lunch basket, and tell me, Potaroo, have you any
magic that will make the journey less dangerous for these brave young
adventurers?"

"M--agic?" stuttered Potaroo, his eyes growing glassy at the mere
thought of parting with any of his magic treasures. "Well--er--I could
lend them a box of my famous triple action stumbling blocks. They will
overthrow any enemy, no matter how numerous."

"Splendid!" beamed Kalico, rubbing his hands briskly together, "and
don't forget, in the course of your journey north, if you find a King
willing to lend his army, my army also will be ready and at your
service."

"Oh, Kalico, how _kind_ you are!" Running up the steps of the throne
again, Dorothy gave the Gnome King an impulsive hug.

"Come on, COME on!" squealed Pigasus, who had seen the various winks
between Kalico and Shoofenwaller and was convinced that the little
Gnome King was doing as little as he possibly could. "Give us our lunch
and our stumbling blocks and we'll be off, and I must say they'll be
an enormous help when we reach Thunder Mountain." Spreading his wings,
Pigasus began to fly in angry circles round the Gnome King's head.

"Humph, pork's going up!" sniffed Shoofenwaller as he hurried away to
see about packing the lunch basket.

"He ought to be dried, smoked and salted," muttered Potaroo, going
sulkily off to fetch the blocks. Dorothy, in earnest consultation
with Kalico, heard neither of these remarks, and when a few moments
later the two returned with two boxes and Dorothy's hat and coat, she
thanked them politely, called Pigasus down from a rocky ledge where he
had flown and climbed happily on his back. Then Pigasus, not giving her
time for any lengthy farewells, zipped through the tunneled caverns
and corridors of the Gnome King's Underground Dominions and burst
thankfully out the back door of South Mountain.

"Now, let's see, which way is north?" mused Pigasus, twirling his curly
tail around like a propeller. "All we have to do is to fly north to
Thunder Mountain, unlock its thunder bolts, restore the rulers of Oz,
toss tumbling blocks at all enemies, raise a grand army and then, THEN
King Kalico will help us. Isn't it just _too_ magniferous!"

    "Why Piggins, how mean of you, surely you know
    The Gnome King's our friend, don't you like Kalico?"

"No!" said Pigasus fiercely, hurling himself into the air.

"Well, anyway, we're better off than we were before," thought Dorothy
after several rhymed attempts to draw Pigasus into a conversation. "At
least we now know where Ozma is and have two kinds of magic and the
promise of an army. Really we're getting on quite fast." But perhaps
had she seen the King and his Chamberlain nodding their heads like two
little China mandarins as she and Pigasus left the throne room, she
would not have felt so cheerful.

"That's the last we'll ever see of her," chuckled Shoofenwaller,
dropping a dried lizard instead of a lump of sugar into his tea.
(Gnomes always flavor their tea with lizards.) "No one yet has ever
come safely back from Thunder Mountain. But what about this new Emperor
of Oz?"

"Oh, that will be all right!" Kalico waved one hand airily. "I would
much rather have a man on the throne of Oz. Ozma is always involving me
in wars or demanding the rights of smaller Kingdoms, so long may she
stay in Thunder Mountain and long Skamperoo rule in Oz!"

"Long live the Emperor!" echoed Shoofenwaller, and clicking their
teacups gaily together, the two bad little Gnomes drained to the last
drop their black and bitter tea. And we should not be too hard on
Kalico, I suppose, for like all the dwellers under the earth, his heart
is gray and flinty as the rock that forms his cavern, the blood in his
veins cold and sluggish as the leaden waters of the underground rivers
that wind sullenly through his dark domain.




CHAPTER 14

The Emperor of Oz


The same morning Dorothy wakened in the rustic summer house of the
Winkie farmer, Skamperoo opened his eyes upon the unaccustomed
grandeur of Ozma's Royal Palace. The banquet had lasted till long
after three o'clock, then still chuckling and yawning, he had waved
goodnight to his hilarious and amiable subjects and led Chalk off to
bed. Twenty footmen with twenty lighted tapers preceded him to Ozma's
own apartment, but dismissing this as too plain and simple, he had
taken the immense green guest suite across the hall. Chalk would have
much preferred a stall in the Royal Stable with the other four-footed
members of the castle party, but Skamperoo would not hear of such a
separation. He wanted his white wishing horse close at hand, not only
because through him and the magic emeralds he could satisfy every
wish, but because for the first time in his long, lazy, selfish life
he had found someone he liked better than himself. In Skamperoo's
eyes Chalk was absolutely perfect, and as his own wish had brought
the golden-maned charger into being, he felt proud and important as a
parent with his first child.

After a few regretful sniffs out of the window, a few short turns up
and down their immense and elegant sleeping apartment, Chalk leaped
lightly on one of the large green beds and settled himself gracefully
for the night. Covering Chalk tenderly with a green satin quilt,
Skamperoo hastily disrobed, and clutching his precious necklaces,
climbed wearily into the other bed. There, without even stopping to
wish himself goodnight, he fell into a deep and tranquil slumber.
Indeed both, in spite of the strangeness of their surroundings, slept
soundly till morning.

About eight o'clock, Chalk, lifting his head from the embroidered
pillow, looked indulgently across at the new Emperor of Oz. Sitting
up in bed, Skamperoo was busily counting the gems in his three magic
chains.

"Ho, throw those silly beads away!" advised the white horse, jumping
out of bed with a gay toss of his golden mane. "You have nothing else
to wish for, Kingaling, nothing more at all! M--mmm, this green carpet
looks good enough to eat, but I've a fancy to nibble the clover in Your
Majesty's garden while it is still fresh with dew."

"Say it again," begged Skamperoo, closing his eyes and clasping himself
blissfully around the middle.

"Your Majesty's garden! Your Majesty's Palace, Your Majesty's Kingdom
of Oz!" whinnied the white horse, rising on his hind legs and
pirouetting round with mischievous little prances. "But come, Emp! What
are your wishes for today? I think we will have to use the necklaces
after all. You must certainly have some new clothes. It would never
do to appear this morning in the suit you wore last night. You had
better have some sleeping garments, too. I've a notion that Emperors
do not sleep in their raw hides like horses." Skamperoo, giggling
self-consciously, dragged the satin sheets up to his chin, for to tell
the truth, he had arrived in the Emerald City with only one suit to his
back, and an extremely shabby one at that.

"Maybe I'd better change my face, too," he murmured, "to go with all
this, you know." Dreamily Skamperoo waved his hands about, and then,
leaning forward, slipped the chains over Chalk's ear.

"What's the matter with the face you have?" demanded Chalk, gazing
fondly at the red, rotund countenance of his Master. "I like you just
as you are, and if you change I wouldn't even know you, but I'll
tell you what you _can_ wish after you've ordered yourself some new
clothes--wish yourself a seasoned rider and then we can go far and
wide, Kingaling, far and wide at a furious gallop and none shall say us
nay--hey, hey!"

"And none shall say us nay," trilled Skamperoo, rolling out of bed,
covers and all. To wish himself fifty jewel-encrusted robes with boots,
crowns, and all the undergarments to go with them, fifty splendid
sleeping robes, and fifty suits of riding clothes took but a moment. He
and Chalk could hear them landing with little thuds on the hangers in
the many closets as Skamperoo finished speaking. Then, being naturally
lazy, the new Emperor wished that he had already had his bath and
was dressed in his green riding clothes. So, immediately he was, and
winking at his clever assistant adviser, he next wished himself the
best rider in Oz. Then, taking back his necklaces, he buttoned them
carefully in a little pocket over his heart and went over to the mirror
to have a look at himself.

"How about this governing stuff?" puffed the self-made Emperor, turning
this way and that to get a good view of his new clothes.

"Oh, I shouldn't bother about governing," answered Chalk carelessly.
"A well-governed country like this should be able to run itself for
a few weeks. By that time we'll be ready for more serious matters,
but right now I'm all for enjoying myself. A splendid idea, that, of
putting all the rulers and the Wizard and his magic out of the way. The
rest of your court and subjects are exceedingly sensible and jolly, and
if we are pleasant and sensible too, everything will be 'What ho and
so cozy!' So let's go below and start our first day of emperoaring!"
Impatiently Chalk pranced away toward the door.

"You're sure I look all right?" asked Skamperoo with another anxious
squint at his reflection. "Seems to me I'm a bit too fat."

"Oh, don't worry about that," said Chalk, rolling his eyes wickedly.
"Come along, come along, and I'll soon shake some of that fat off you.
Up with you, Kingaling, and let's to our oats!" To his delight and
pleasure, Skamperoo had not the slightest trouble mounting, and once in
the saddle he felt perfectly at home, even when Chalk bounded through
the door, took the long circular steps between a canter and a gallop,
and ran madly three times round the Royal gardens.

On fine days Ozma always had breakfast in her private garden, and it
being an especially fine day, the palace servants without thought or
question had placed the royal table under the trees. It was still
fairly early and none of the guests or members of the household were
down, but this did not spoil Skamperoo's excellent appetite at all.
Ordering Chalk a breakfast of oats, bran and quartered apples, he
seated himself gaily at the head of the table. The green riding hat,
set well over one ear, became him vastly well and Chalk, regarding him
proudly from the foot of the table, thought him every inch an Emperor,
even if round the waist there were a good many too many inches.

"I wish Pinny Penny could see you now," sighed the horse, sinking
contentedly back on his haunches, "and how I should have enjoyed seeing
Matiah's face when he finally discovered you and the necklaces were
gone. By the way, perhaps we should do something about Matiah?"

"Pinny Penny will attend to him," said Skamperoo, popping a huge cherry
into his mouth and nodding his head reassuringly. "I'll wager Pinny
Penny sent the fellow packing the moment he found himself King. Wonder
how Pinny is making out, anyway?"

"But suppose Matiah should follow us here?" went on Chalk. Having been
in existence only two days, he knew little of Oz or geozophy.

"He can't come here," Skamperoo told him triumphantly. "There's a
deadly desert between Skampavia and Oz that no one in my father's
lifetime or in mine has ever crossed, that is with the exception of
ourselves, and we were wished across, which doesn't count." Then as
four footmen with heaping trays appeared, he winked at Chalk and the
white horse lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

And Skamperoo had been perfectly correct in his conjectures about Pinny
Penny. When, with a resounding clunk, the King's gold crown had fallen
upon the astonished Prime Minister, his head had gone entirely through
so he was forced to wear it much as a dog wears a collar. But even so,
he was not slow to realize the significance of this odd happening or
the power it brought with it. Gripping the scepter which had forced
itself into his hand, he rushed into the throne room to find out what
strange whim of his Master had made him acting King of the Realm. A
glance around the throne room was enough to show him that Skamperoo
was not there, and when he saw Matiah sitting so unconcernedly in the
book alcove, a sudden rage and conviction seized him. Whatever had
happened, Matiah was to blame.

"Leave this palace at once!" shouted Pinny Penny, stamping first
one foot and then the other. "At once, do you hear, or I'll call
out the guard!" Matiah, still deep in the History of Oz, looked up
in astonishment, and when he saw the little Prime Minister wearing
Skamperoo's crown round his neck and brandishing his scepter, he gave a
perfect bellow of anger and dismay.

"Where's the King?" he roared, looking wildly around the throne room,
"and why are you wearing his crown? Where's Skamperoo--where're the
necklaces?"

"Ask yourself!" raged Pinny Penny, shaking the scepter threateningly.
"Everything was quiet and peaceful till you and your necklaces arrived
at this palace; there's some magic trickery about them and about you.
Don't think I was fooled by that horse story, a horse does not appear
out of the air. Well, now the King's gone--the horse is gone and unless
you are gone in ten seconds I'll have you thrown out of the window.
Ten seconds--do you hear? This crown and scepter came to me through no
wish or choice of my own, but since they did come to me I AM THE KING!
And I intend to rule this country. My first official act will be to rid
myself of your filthy presence. Now, then, start walking, merchant, and
don't stop till you reach the border. Twenty guards will follow to see
you safely out of the country."

"You wait till Skamperoo hears about this!" blustered Matiah, backing
away in alarm from the determined little Prime Minister. "I'm more
important to him than anyone else."

"Then why aren't you with him?" inquired Pinny Penny shrewdly. "No,
wherever he's gone he has gone without you. I am the King and I do not
need you, so be off!" Clapping his hands, Pinny gave a sharp command
to the guards, who came hurrying in answer to his summons. Retiring
rapidly to escape the tips of their sharp spikes, Matiah sullenly began
his long march. It was nightfall by the time the little company reached
the edge of Skampavia. Here, in a wilderness of rock and rubble, the
guardsmen left him with food enough for a couple of days and stern
warnings never to return to Skampavia. Far to the west the miserable
merchant could see the comforting lights of Merryland, but he had no
desire to go there or east to the Kingdom of Ix. Instead, he stared
hopelessly across the wilderness to where the heaving sands of the
Deadly Desert gleamed like molten silver in the moonlight.

"How had that rascally monarch ever escaped without his seeing him?
How could he ever safely cross the Deadly Desert and hope to reach Oz?
How had Skamperoo, who seemed so dumb and foolish, ever discovered the
secret of using the magic emeralds when he himself had failed to do so?
How? How? How?" Crouched on a flat rock, munching one of the sandwiches
left by the guards, Matiah scowled evilly across the grim desert, his
thoughts as treacherous and shifting as its deadly sands.




CHAPTER 15

The Dooners!


All day, with only a short pause for lunch, Pigasus had flown north,
Dorothy keeping a sharp lookout for Thunder Mountain or mountains of
any sort, but the wild, desolate country through which they were flying
was flat, desert-like and apparently perfectly uninhabited.

"A fine healthy chance we have of finding an army here!" snorted
Pigasus as the afternoon drew to a hot, weary close, "and what we'll
do when we find Thunder Mountain, I haven't the faintest notion, have
you? Even if I butt my nose black, blue and blunt, and you break both
knuckles beating on its rocky exterior, how can we ever hope to enter
such a place, much less release our unfortunate sovereigns? I told you
Kalico was a scoundrel; I'll wager he's sent us on a wild goose chase
just to get us out of the way."

    "Ah, don't say I told you so,
    There's always some way, you know,"

said Dorothy almost as down-hearted as Pigasus, though she would not
admit it. The pink pig, rather ashamed of himself, flew for several
miles without saying anything, then, in rather a gruff voice, he called
Dorothy's attention to the changing nature of the scenery below.

"Notice the hills?" he snorted, more hopefully. "Maybe there is a
mountain, after all, but the sun's going down and I'm ready to sink
myself, so let's descend and see whether we can find a soft rock on
which to lay our heads."

"Not hills, dunes!" cried Dorothy, bouncing off as soon as Pigasus
touched the earth. "Sand dunes; we must be near the coast and the
Nonestic Ocean."

"It does smell salty," agreed Pigasus, sniffing the air eagerly, "but
suppose we save the ocean for tomorrow, my feet ache, my wings ache,
and I'm hollow as a drum."

"Then we'll have supper," decided Dorothy, sensibly. So seating
themselves comfortably with their backs against a dune, the two weary
explorers finished up all the cold meat, fruit, pie, and sandwiches
Shoofenwaller had packed up for them. After a long, wistful sniff into
the box convinced him there was not another crumb, Pigasus folded his
wings, lay down in the soft sand at the foot of the dune, giving only
indistinct grunts and snorts to Dorothy's questions and observations.
Finally, getting no answer at all, Dorothy discovered he was asleep.
The regular rise and fall of the pink pig's sides, the soft drowsy
singing of the west wind lulled Dorothy into a pleasant state of
dreaminess, and presently, with her head comfortably pillowed on the
pig's plump shoulder, she fell asleep too.

It must have been hours later when terrified squeals from Pigasus and
the patter of a hundred hurrying feet made her start up in alarm.
Still only half awake, she was startled to find herself and Pigasus
surrounded by a horde of savage-looking sandmen. In the pale and watery
moonlight they looked like creatures out of some very bad dream. Their
bodies were roughly moulded of sand, their eyes strangely green and
phosphorescent, while their hair, rising like beach grass from their
pointed heads, waved about their lumpy faces.

Clutching the basket that contained her small store of clothing, the
Black Witch's powder of darkness, and Potaroo's box of stumbling
blocks, Dorothy pressed back against the dune. Her first idea of
leaping on the pig's back and bidding him fly was useless. Pigasus lay
helplessly on his side, his wings and legs bound tightly with long
strands of tough, strong seaweed. Thankful to find that she at least
was free, Dorothy went a step closer to her struggling, squealing,
furious little comrade. As she did so, a perfect shower of sand balls
came flying toward them. The sharp sting of the sandmen's missiles not
only awoke her completely, but goaded her into instant and angry action.

"Stop that! Stop that at once!" she cried, stamping her foot
indignantly, but her words only brought another shower of sand balls
down on their heads.

"You have dared to invade the sacred domain of the Dooners," yelled
the rasping voice of the leader, rattling a long string of sea shells
he wore round his neck. "And therefore you shall be sand balled, sand
bagged and made into sandwiches for the sand crabs!"

If the Dooner had not looked so wild and dangerous, his foolish threat
might have been amusing, but as he and his bandy-legged sandmen came
leaping forward, Pigasus gave a squeal of sheer terror, and Dorothy,
raising the basket over her head, hurled it with all her might into the
midst of the advancing army. The effect was immediate and astonishing.
Cowering down beside Pigasus and expecting to be seized or trampled
on, Dorothy saw the first line of Dooners going down like a row of
tenpins, then all the others began tumbling and tripping and falling in
heaps. No sooner would a sandman rise than he would instantly tumble
down again, and their squalls and screeches of rage were so piercing
Dorothy put both hands over her ears.

"It's the blocks," wheezed Pigasus, managing to lift his head a few
inches. "Kalico's stumbling blocks are flying like fur and fury. Now if
they just keep 'em down for a while longer, we might get away."

Dorothy, peering sharply into the midst of the tumbling Dooners, saw
the fifty magic squares released from their box when she flung her
basket, fairly exploding with activity, and scramble up as they would
after each tumble, the sandmen could not advance an inch, nor even
manage to stand erect. The leader, attempting to crawl forward on his
hands and knees, was caught by a dozen of the whirling missiles and
rolled back like a log among his churning comrades.

"Hurray! Three cheers for Kalico!" puffed Pigasus. "Quick, my girl, see
if you can untie these wretched seaweeds and we'll be flying and be off
in a pigwhistle."

"I had a pair of scissors in my basket if it hasn't fallen out, and
anyway I'm not going without my things," declared Dorothy, now quite
bold since the enemy had been overcome by magic. And in spite of the
pig's anxious squeals of warning, she rushed forward, grabbed her
basket and began picking up her scattered belongings, noting with a
sigh of relief that the box containing the powder of darkness was still
closed. With the scissors, still safe in the little pocket in the side
of the basket, she soon clipped the seaweed trusses from Pigasus, and
clasping the basket in her arms climbed swiftly on his back. Pigasus,
without one backward glance, rose straight into the air and again
headed north. Dorothy, peering fearfully over his left wing, saw the
Dooners spring suddenly to their feet and then, like frightened prairie
dogs, disappear into many holes in the sand.

Funny, mused Dorothy, that they had not noticed these openings before.
Funny that the Dooners had stopped stumbling as soon as she and Pigasus
had taken to the air. Funny--but then, everything was funny. Right in
the middle of her conjectures the box of stumbling blocks, now closed
and tied with a red ribbon, dropped "plink" into the middle of her
basket.

"Someone's throwing things," gasped Pigasus, flapping his wings a bit
faster and looking rather wildly over his shoulder.

"No, just our box of stumbling blocks," yawned Dorothy. Now that the
excitement was over she felt dreadfully tired and even the sight of the
Nonestic Ocean rippling and gleaming a few yards ahead did not arouse
or interest her.

It did not interest Pigasus, either. He was far from pleased to find
himself so near the coast.

"I don't like this, I don't like this at all," muttered the pig,
perking up his ears and wiggling his nose rapidly. "We've flown
straight north and instead of striking Thunder Mountain, we strike the
sea, and how could a mountain be in the middle of the sea?"

    "There are mountains on islands and I have a notion
    There are plenty of islands out there in the ocean,"

said Dorothy sleepily, recalling the days she had studied geography in
the United States.

    "Take Japan, for instance, over there
    Mountains are simply everywhere!"

"I don't care if they are," answered Pigasus fiercely, "I won't go to
Japan and I'll not go a wing's breadth over this ocean tonight, islands
or no islands. Sa--hay! There's the North Star to our left, so we're
not going north at all. We're off our course, that's what we are!"

"North Star? North Star, of course we are!" mumbled Dorothy with a
drowsy nod.

"You're asleep," scolded Pigasus in a worried voice. "I'd better land."

"If you land too soon, you'll strike a dune," warned Dorothy with
another yawn. And after a quick glance below, and convinced they were
still over the Dooner's domain, Pigasus spread his wings a bit wider
and swung along the coast looking carefully for a safe place to land
and spend the rest of the night. He was so busy squinting downward that
he never saw the long curious tube-like shadow shooting after him with
incredible accuracy and speed. A terrific blast of air as it rushed by
them on the right was his first warning of danger. Dorothy, too, caught
unaware, gave a faint shriek as an immense snake-like body curved back
and began to coil round and round them like some gigantic air serpent.

"It is a snake!" thought poor Dorothy, as Pigasus hung helplessly in
the little circle of air left in the center of its coils. Neither
spoke, for truly there seemed nothing to say or do. Then just as the
suspense grew too awful to be endured, the monster opened its mouth and
Dorothy, backing as far along the pig's back as she possibly could,
almost lost her balance. Instead of a tongue or long tusks, out popped
the head and shoulders of a little old man no larger than Dorothy
herself.

"Pardon me," he murmured politely, "I was looking for a sea serpent."

"Do I look like a sea serpent?" snorted Pigasus in a quivering voice,
for he was still half choked from shock and fright. "If you and that
monster you're riding are looking for a sea serpent, go ahead--look for
one, but leave honest travelers alone!"

"Monster?" exclaimed the little man in a hurt voice. "Oh, I say now,
you have us all wrong. This is no monster, this is the long, strong,
flexible, stretchable SHOOTING TOWER of my private castle, and I,
myself, am Bitty Bit, the Seer of Some Summit."

In the short silence that followed Bitty Bit's astonishing
announcement, Dorothy, examining more closely the tube-like coils
encircling herself and Pigasus, saw that they really were of stone with
rubber-like sections between. What she had taken for a mouth was really
a window. With his elbow resting on the ledge, Bitty Bit was regarding
them fixedly.

"Well, even if you are a seer and have a shooting tower," grunted
Pigasus, gathering courage as he went along, "there is no reason for
you to come towering over us this way!"

"But a seer must be constantly looking for things," explained Bitty
Bit, spreading his hands expansively, "that, you know, is his business.
I am always looking for something and tonight it happens to be sea
serpents."

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Pigasus, more mildly, "but since we are
not sea serpents, perhaps you'll be good enough to unwind your tower.
As it happens, I have a little looking to do myself. As a matter of
fact, when you and your tower overtook us I was searching for a safe
place for this young Princess and myself to spend the night."

"Look no more!" begged Bitty Bit, leaning so far over the sill Dorothy
involuntarily put out her hand to save him from falling. "You shall
both spend the night in my castle. COME!" Grasping Dorothy by one hand
and Pigasus by one wing, the little seer with superhuman strength for
one so small and wrinkled dragged them both through the open window of
his shooting tower.




CHAPTER 16

The Seer of Some Summit


Since coming to Oz, Dorothy had traveled in many strange ways, but to
find herself shooting through the midnight sky in Bitty Bit's tower was
surely the oddest of all. Both she and Pigasus stared from the window
in wide-eyed wonder as the tower uncoiled and started shrinking rapidly
backward.

"We may as well go home at once," observed Bitty Bit, rubbing his
little hands briskly together. "You are much more interesting than sea
serpents and I can easily look for sea serpents some other night. Now
don't be alarmed when we bump."

"Bump?" repeated Dorothy rather nervously.

"Of course," the sage told her calmly. "As I go forward, the tower
stretches out in any direction I wish to go; when I return, it shrinks,
contracts, and retires within itself like a telescope, and by the time
we reach the castle it is no larger than an ordinary tower. Mm--better
hold on to something, we're almost there!" Running around the circular
room a few feet from the wall was a gold railing. Pigasus had just
time to hook his wing around this railing and Dorothy to seize it with
one hand, when Bitty Bit's tower with a resounding crash snapped back,
but up to a vertical position, so that what had been the floor of the
little room became the east wall and the window a skylight. Dorothy and
Pigasus, describing a complete circle on the bar, landed in a more or
less upside down position on what had been the back wall. "That's why
I have it cushioned," explained the seer, who also had executed a neat
somersault. Hopping up, as if landing on his head was a perfectly usual
and ordinary occurrence, Bitty Bit opened a trap door in the floor and
motioned for Dorothy and Pigasus to follow him down a long winding
stair.

"These magic contraptions will be the death of me," wheezed Pigasus,
picking himself up with a groan. The cushioned floor had made his fall
painless, but he was considerably jolted and upset from the shock, or
rather the series of shocks that had so far punctuated their evening.

"But if he's a seer," whispered Dorothy, recovering her basket and
trotting eagerly after Bitty Bit, "he ought to be able to help us a--"

"Bitty Bit," sniffed the pink pig. "Well, if he'll just help me to
a bed, I'll be satisfied!" and grunting and grumbling, he clumped
sleepily down the stairs behind Dorothy. The room into which the stone
stairway led them was evidently the cozy and comfortable study of
the comical little seer. Its walls were of oak, lined from floor to
ceiling with books, and all its furnishings were tan or brown. Dorothy
considered this extremely suitable as Bitty Bit himself looked like a
very wise and merry Brownie. On his little round head was a round cap
with a yellow quill and he wore a brown wrinkled robe rather like a
monk's, tied tightly round the waist with a yellow cord. His bright,
black, sharp little eyes danced with good humor and interest in his
sun-tanned, honest little face. While Pigasus stood sleepily and
somewhat disapprovingly on the hearth rug, Dorothy sank into a snug
brown arm chair and looked expectantly up at their singular host.

"No, no, not a word," begged Bitty Bit, raising his hand pleadingly.
"Remember, I am the Seer of Some Summit, a seer who can see and
foresee; a seer who can tell and foretell. Just by closing my eyes I
can tell who you are, whence you came, and whither you are going."

"Fancy that, now," observed Pigasus in a mocking voice.

"You," retorted Bitty Bit, pointing a skinny brown finger at the pig,
"you are a creation of my friend, the Red Jinn, whose taste for low
verse I always knew would lead him into some mischief."

"Low verses?" retorted Pigasus indignantly, while even Dorothy looked a
little shocked.

"Yes, low verses," insisted Bitty Bit solemnly. "You are so constructed
that he who rides must rhyme and break into foolish jingles. Is this
not so?"

"They may be jingles, but they are NOT low verse," protested Pigasus,
flapping his ears angrily.

"Well, then, let us call them simple verses," amended Bitty Bit with a
generous wave of the hand, "at least they are verses that anyone can
understand, which, of course, makes them of no value whatever. People
never appreciate what they can understand."

"Dorothy does," declared Pigasus, now mad enough to fly right out the
window.

"Dorothy? Ah, yes, I was coming to her." Swinging around, Bitty Bit,
his eyes still tightly shut, wagged his finger at the astonished little
girl. "You are the mortal girl who came to Oz by cyclone. You live in
the Emerald City of Oz and are--"

"Oh, tell us something we don't already know," interrupted Pigasus with
a bored yawn. "Where is Ozma of Oz now--how could a scalawag Emperor
steal her throne?"

"Wait! Wait! Give me time! Not a word more--not a word!" panted Bitty
Bit, advancing with short dancing steps toward Dorothy. "I--I see a
necklace," he muttered mysteriously. "One--two--three necklaces! I
see a white horse and a fat, red-faced fellow wearing a small emerald
crown. Great sea bass and sassafrass! Oz has been conquered--its
inhabitants enchanted--its rulers banished, and the King of Skampavia
sits on the throne."

"So that's where he comes from!" breathed Dorothy, forgetting Bitty
Bit's request for silence. "Oh, quick, tell us more--tell us more, and
help us to restore Ozma and the other lost sovereigns to power!"

"I am only a seer," answered the sage, opening his eyes wide and
suddenly. "I can see and foresee, tell and foretell, but I cannot
change that which has happened or is about to happen."

"But where is Ozma?" demanded Pigasus, edging closer. "If you are a
seer and can see 'er, at least you can tell us where she is." In this
way Pigasus hoped to check up the information given them by Potaroo,
the Gnome King's Wizard.

So again Bitty Bit closed his eyes and pressing his fingers to his
forehead spoke: "Ozma, my old friend Jinnicky, the Wizard of Oz, a
soldier with green whiskers, a purple horse, two Queens, two Kings, a
Prince, the Tin Woodman, and Glinda the Good Sorceress are lying at the
bottom of Lightning Lake, which is on the top of Thunder Mountain,"
Bitty Bit told them solemnly.

"Lightning Lake?" cried Dorothy, seizing the little seer frantically by
the shoulders. "Why, then, they must be drowned, burned and destroyed
altogether!"

"No, no--they are quite calm and as usual," Bitty Bit assured her
hastily, "in fact, they are, I should say, in a trance of some kind."

"But what'll we do, how'll we disenchant them or find Thunder
Mountain?" Loosing her hold on Bitty Bit, Dorothy spun round three
times and then started firmly for the door.

"My shooting tower will take you to Thunder Mountain or any other
place you decide you must go," promised Bitty Bit, hurrying anxiously
after the little girl, "but not tonight, Dorothy--not tonight. We
are all tired and I must have time to think. The conquering of Oz is
a great shock to me. I would like time to look into the matter more
fully and consider all of these strange events in their proper order.
This problem shall be my pillow. I'll sleep on it, my dear, and in the
morning will doubtless have something helpful to suggest."

"Well, then, where're the beds?" yawned Pigasus, who heartily approved
of Bitty Bit's suggestion. "Or are we to sleep on our problems, too?"
At this, Bitty Bit, who seemed to find Pigasus terribly amusing,
laughed right out loud, then taking Dorothy's arm he led the way to
a snug little bedroom all done in yellow. Pigasus had a gentlemanly
apartment in tan next door and both were so weary they spent little
time examining their new quarters, but instead went directly to bed and
to sleep.

When Dorothy wakened next morning she looked out the window and saw
Pigasus flying in slow circles round the tidy castle. Bitty Bit's brown
stone palace, though small and unpretentious, perched, right on top of
Some Summit, and the view was so fine and the mountain air so fresh and
invigorating, Dorothy, in spite of all her anxiety and worry, began to
feel happy and reckless and ready for anything. With cheerful little
glances round her cozy yellow room, she dressed, brushed her hair till
it shone, then skipped merrily down the brown marble steps and out
into the garden. The garden, really a series of sloping terraces, was
bright with hardy mountain posies, with spicy sage bushes and gnarled
old trees which clung like acrobats to the steep rocks and dangerous
crevices. Pigasus, catching a glimpse of Dorothy seated on a smooth
rock near a little waterfall, came swooping down to wish her a merry
morning.

"Not a bad little palace," remarked the pig considerately. "Not a bad
little palace at all, though so far as I can see there's not a man
servant nor a woman servant or even a ladybug about. I imagine this
fellow is a hermit and from the looks of him probably lives on tobacco
and snuff. What do you suppose are the chances for breakfast?"

"I don't know," said Dorothy, refusing to allow such a small matter as
breakfast to dash her spirits. "Have you seen Bitty Bit this morning?"

"Yes," sniffed Pigasus, beginning to poke his nose hungrily round the
roots of a dwarf oak, "before I flew out my window, I saw him going
into his brown study. Seer goes into brown study. How's that for the
first announcement of the day?"

"You're awful," laughed Dorothy, giving Pigasus a little push.

"No, just awfully hungry," grinned Pigasus. "Now I've been thinking--"

"NO?" Stepping out from behind a sizable bush, Bitty Bit regarded the
pig with an air of assumed amazement. "He says he's been thinking," he
repeated, turning solemnly to Dorothy. "Must be the air up here."

"That's about all I've had," retorted Pigasus, savagely crunching an
acorn between his teeth, "that and a nibble from one of your sage
bushes."

"Sage bush, eh?" chuckled Bitty Bit, winking at Dorothy. "That's
good, and we'll make a sage of you yet, a sausage!" he whispered in
an undertone that Pigasus heard quite distinctly. "And speaking of
sausage, how about breakfast?"

Though Bitty Bit's remark about the sausage still rankled, Pigasus
was too hungry to let it keep him from following the seer into a
small walled garden that opened out from the larger dining hall of
his castle. Here, on a small table covered with a gay yellow cloth,
was assembled the most appetizing breakfast Dorothy ever had tasted.
Ripe melon and apricots, cereal and eggs, tiny meat pies, pancakes
and honey, hot rolls and steaming brown cocoa. There was a huge bowl
of mush and cream for Pigasus and another of buttermilk, and under the
soothing influence of his favorite foods, Pigasus completely forgot
his annoyance and they were soon chattering away like old friends at
a Sunday School Picnic. Bitty Bit's chef, whom the pig had overlooked
in his grand tour of the palace, served them with skill and speed.
No wonder Pigasus had not seen him, for he was even smaller than his
wrinkled little Master and almost completely enveloped in a great brown
linen apron and tall brown cap. Dorothy could not possibly eat all the
dainties pressed upon her by the kind little seer and his chef, but she
nibbled at each course, and when Bitty Bit saw that neither she nor
Pigasus could down another bite, he swallowed the rest of his cocoa and
bounced briskly to his feet.

"Now," he cried, tossing away his gay napkin with a flourish. "Now for
the Emerald City and Oz!"

"But I thought we were going to Thunder Mountain," exclaimed Dorothy,
pushing back her chair so hurriedly she bumped her head on the wall.

"That," exclaimed Bitty Bit, looking over his shoulder, for he was
already half way through the door, "that will not be necessary. All we
need to save the celebrities of Oz is the long lost wishing emeralds of
Lorna the Wood Nymph."

"Lorna?" coughed Pigasus, rolling out of his seat and falling a bit
sideways. "For pretty sake, who's she?"

"Oh, come along!" urged Dorothy, and without wasting another second she
pelted into the brown palace after Bitty Bit.

With a groan Pigasus followed, and groaned again when he realized
he would have to climb three flights of marble steps and a flight of
stone to reach the famous shooting tower. Then, suddenly and joyfully
remembering his wings, he spread them wide.

"Wings, hold me up," mumbled the pink pig stuffily, "we're carrying
entirely too mush mush!" Rising rather uncertainly, he breathlessly
flapped his way up to the tower room where Dorothy and Bitty Bit
impatiently awaited him.




CHAPTER 17

Skamperoo in Oz


In the company of Scraps, the Scarecrow, the Royal Visitors, and all
the amusing members of Ozma's court, the Emperor and Chalk passed a gay
and hilarious morning. The tableaux and pageants proceeded without a
single hitch and no one seemed to miss Dorothy or Pigasus at all, nor
did anyone notice the omission of the carefully planned groups showing
the Wizard's arrival in Oz, Dorothy's first visit to the Emerald City
or the victory of Nick Chopper over the wolves. These interesting
and historical events might just as well never have happened. Notta's
circus later in the afternoon went off with a bang, even without
Pigasus to jump through hoops and fly round the ring waving flags while
Scraps did her balance-defying acts on the trapeze and tight rope. The
picnic supper was even more fun than the circus, and the fireworks, set
off by Tik Tok, who was in no danger of scorching himself, the best of
all. Indeed, Skamperoo's first day in the Emerald City had been so full
and so interesting he had not made a single wish or once thought of his
magic emeralds.

"Funny we never had jolly times like this at home," mused Skamperoo,
putting out the emerald stars in the ceiling that pleasantly lighted
his green apartment, and burrowing happily down into his splendid green
bed. "Oh, Chalk! Are you asleep there, old horse?" As no answer came
from the other bed, Skamperoo let himself sink a bit deeper into the
luxurious nest of silken covers and soon was asleep himself, puffing
and whistling like a steamboat.

But the strange and frightful snoring of the Emperor did not seem to
stop nor scare away the shadowy figure that presently came stealing
into the Royal Chamber. Once--twice--three times, long skinny fingers
reached out toward the thick neck of the snoring ruler of Oz. The
fourth time there were three distinct little clips, and when the
curving talon-like claw withdrew, it had in its clutching grasp the
three powerful wishing chains. Then, without waking the occupant of
either bed, the thief stole quietly into the shadows.

Now the Scarecrow, delighted with the success of the celebration so
far, had suggested a series of athletic contests and obstacle races
for next day and Skamperoo had heartily agreed to his plans. His first
thought on waking was the race to be run by the straw man and himself,
the Scarecrow on the wooden saw horse, he on his splendid white charger.

"I'll wear the white leather breeches and shirt," puffed Skamperoo,
bounding out of bed like a school boy. He had taken a shower and donned
his showy riding clothes before he missed his magic emeralds. Then,
all at once, as he stood before the mirror to comb his hair, he gave a
loud squall of anguish. "Chalk! Chalk!" roared the distracted Emperor,
racing over to the balcony and leaning so far out over the railing he
nearly fell on his crown. "They're gone! They're gone! My emeralds! My
necklaces! My necklaces! My emeralds!"

Now Chalk, who had risen early to nibble the clover while it was still
fresh with morning dew, looked up in alarm, then as his Master's voice
grew louder and louder and his gestures more spectacular and desperate,
the white horse rose up on his hind legs and shook his head in violent
warning and displeasure.

"Hush!" he directed in a low voice. "I'll be right up." Making his way
quickly but cautiously so as not to arouse the curiosity of any of the
palace servants, already at work in the lower hallways, Chalk hurried
up to the agitated Emperor.

"They're g-g--gone!" blubbered Skamperoo, sitting on the edge of the
bed and crying like a baby. "G--g-g-gone! Now everything is ruined and
I'll have nothing left at all!"

"Well, you still have me," murmured Chalk, resting his head
affectionately on Skamperoo's shoulder. "Brace up, Kingaling, and for
_oats_ sake be quiet! No one here knows about the necklaces and until
the rascal who has stolen them learns how to use them we are as safe
as soap. That rascal, of course, is Matiah. Somehow he has managed to
cross the Deadly Desert. Yes," Chalk shook his mane wrathfully, "I am
convinced that Matiah has the necklaces, but what good are they to him
when we alone know the secret that makes them work? He'll have to come
to us in the end and when he does! Hah!" Chalk expelled the air from
his nose in a terrific snort. "Just let me take care of him."

"But shouldn't we give the alarm, have a search made for him, and try
to recover the emeralds?"

"Let him alone," counseled the wishing horse firmly. "The thing for you
to do is to sit tight on the throne of Oz. Remember you are _still_ the
Emperor!"

"But how can I be, without those emeralds?" Skamperoo dabbed at his
eyes with the satin bed sheet.

"We got along all right yesterday," said Chalk calmly. "Come, cheer up,
Skamper, everything will be ALL right."

"I rather counted on beating the Scarecrow in that race this morning,"
muttered Skamperoo wistfully. "How can you run as fast as that tireless
wooden creature who was magically brought to life?"

"Well, wasn't I magically brought to life?" The white horse shook his
mane roguishly. "Come along, Kingaling, we'll not only win that race,
but we'll have back our necklaces and chase Matiah out of Oz before we
are through."

"I--I really believe you can do anything," sighed Skamperoo, getting
almost cheerfully to his feet. "But just the same, I shall keep a sharp
outlook for Matiah. He might start a revolution."

"He'll revolute pretty rapidly if I once get my heels on him," promised
Chalk with a wicked grin. "Come on--heads up, and who's afraid?"
However, in spite of the white horse's valiant attempts to comfort him,
Skamperoo spent a troubled and uneasy day, casting fearful glances
behind him when no one was looking, searching the happy holiday crowds
with haggard glances for a glimpse of the long, thin face of Matiah the
merchant. Even when Chalk beat the Sawhorse in their long, exciting
race through the park, and the crowds cheered themselves hoarse with
delight and approval, the victory was spoiled by the knowledge that
somewhere in the Emerald City lurked his most dangerous and relentless
foe.

Chalk, too, though he pretended to regard the matter lightly, was
almost as worried as his Master and spent every free moment poking his
head into doorways and peering down side streets and rearing up over
walls. And while Skamperoo was having his afternoon nap, the white
horse systematically searched the palace from top to bottom, even the
cellar.

But in the cellar Chalk did not go quite far enough, for it was in a
hollowed out chamber under the cellar that the merchant of Skampavia
was really hidden. Here, with a goodly supply of food, stolen from the
pantry, Matiah had seriously settled down to work out the problem of
the emerald necklace. He had meant to conceal himself in the cellar
itself, but when his foot brushed against an iron ring in the floor, he
had lifted it up and discovered to his delight and satisfaction this
still more secluded and safe retreat.

The tunnels and rocky chambers below the Palace had been constructed
and used by Ruggedo, the old Gnome King, when he was plotting to
capture the Emerald City. Ruggedo himself had been captured, but
the underground caves and passageways had been left pretty much as
they were. There were a number of chairs, a rough bed and table, and
numerous candles and lamps. Altogether it made an ideal workshop
for the merchant to try out his experiments. In the cellar he might
easily have been discovered by any of the kitchen boys sent down for
supplies, but in Ruggedo's old hideout he could be sure of complete
privacy. Lighting the largest of the lamps that hung on its rusty
chain over the table, Matiah seated himself on a rickety old chair
and prepared to concentrate with all his will power on the glittering
emeralds. In the sickly green light he made a strange and sinister
figure as he bent over the table, mumbling and chattering to himself.
But after a whole day, during which he tried every known formula and
combination, touching each gem in succession as he made his wish and
counted to a hundred, he was still no nearer the solution of the
mystery than he had been in Skampavia. First he had tried the diamond
clasp of the third necklace, sure that that was the key to their
power. But nothing at all had happened and the trick of the magic
emeralds continued to elude him. To have in his fingers the means to
immense power and good fortune and still be unable to benefit was
so infuriating, Matiah began to stamp, splutter, and beat his chest
with rage and disappointment. Was it for this he had bribed a red
eagle with the promise of three wishes to carry him across the Deadly
Desert? Even now the mammoth bird was waiting impatiently on the edge
of a little wood near the City ready to tear him to pieces if he
failed to fulfill his part of the bargain. No daylight penetrated into
the tunneled chamber, and hardly realizing that it was now midnight,
Matiah from sheer weariness and exasperation finally gave up and fell
asleep, his head on the table, his hands still clutching the provoking
chains. Footsteps pattering overhead wakened him at last, and also told
him someone had come to the cellar for supplies. Stretching wearily,
he rose and, going over to the stone steps, cautiously ascended and
lifted the trapdoor. Now thoroughly convinced that the necklaces would
not work unless worn by someone else, he determined to seize the first
person entering the cellar and compel him to help.

The merchant did not have long to wait. All unconscious of the part
he was to play in Matiah's dark schemes, a young Kitchen Boy came
whistling his way toward a great golden bin of potatoes. The bin was
just beyond the trapdoor, and lowering it to a mere crack, Matiah let
the boy pass. Then, as he leaned down to fill his basket, the wily
merchant flung up the trapdoor, fell upon the boy and carried him
kicking and screaming down the stairs. Here, with threats, promises
and innumerable shakings, he finally reduced the poor lad to a state
of frightened submission. With the sparkling necklaces round his neck,
he touched one and then another of the emeralds as Matiah wished and
counted and counted and wished. After each unsuccessful trial the
merchant would rage and stamp and shake his fists, till the boy was
quite convinced he was in the presence and power of a mad man, and
frantically waited for someone to overhear Matiah's ravings and come
down to rescue him. But nobody did!

While the unfortunate Kitchen Boy was spending a miserable morning in
the underground chamber, Skamperoo and Chalk were going through the
motions of enjoying themselves above stairs, but without any real zest
or pleasure. Only half-heartedly Skamperoo laughed at the jokes of the
Scarecrow, and Chalk, for all his bright interest in the long recital
of Kabumpo's adventures, was really in a fidget of uneasiness, trying
to keep an eye on all the doors and windows in the Throne Room at
once. Something was going to happen. The white horse felt it in every
bone. And just as the soft musical gong sounded the call for luncheon,
his worst fears were realized. Suddenly, without reason or warning,
the castle was plunged into total darkness. Thumps, bumps, hysterical
shouts and screams followed closely on the heels of this disconcerting
event. Chalk, who had been standing back of Skamperoo, immediately
leaned forward and grasped his impetuous little Master by the seat of
his Royal Breeches.

"Be still!" commanded the white horse through his teeth and the white
leather of Skamperoo's riding pants, and he held on for dear life as
the Emperor, like all the rest of the court and guests tried to rush in
every direction.

"He's done it! He's done it, and everything, is ruined," wailed
Skamperoo, struggling in vain to pull away from Chalk. "Matiah has
discovered the secret of the necklaces and now we are ruined--do you
hear--ruined!"

"I hear," hissed Chalk, giving Skamperoo a little shake, "and so will
everyone else unless you shut your mouth. Be quiet, I tell you, do
nothing till the right moment, unless you want to dash out your brains
against a pillar in the dark." Too frightened to argue or struggle
further, Skamperoo at last subsided. All about courtiers, servants,
and guests were screaming and bumping into each other or the furniture,
and when a stern hand suddenly seized his bridle, Chalk trembled
violently in spite of himself.

"Follow me," directed a firm, stern little voice, "and no harm will
come to you." Now Chalk had been expecting to see or hear Matiah,
and the sound of this small strange voice was a welcome relief and
surprise. Taking a firmer hold on Skamperoo, he thrust out his head in
an endeavor to touch or feel the newcomer. As he did so, the hand on
his bridle began to tug him gently but firmly forward.

"Look out there, mind what you are about, the Emperor of Oz is just
ahead!" whinnied Chalk, now thoroughly alarmed. "We are not used to
taking orders from strangers."

"Oh, we won't be strangers long," promised the strange voice
pleasantly. "So THIS is the Emperor of Oz, and is this the way you
usually carry him?"

"Come on Bitty Bit, what's the use of all this arguing?" put in another
voice impatiently. "Let's get out of that confusion. The Wizard's
laboratory is right across the hall. Tell him to come there."

"A girl!" decided Chalk with another gulp of relief. "Maybe we are
not so badly off, after all!" And lifting his head, in spite of
Skamperoo's great weight, he spoke proudly and confidently, "Whoever
you are, we welcome you to Oz, and if you can explain this unearthly
and unexpected darkness we will gladly follow you and do as you say."

"Good!" chuckled Bitty Bit, tugging manfully at his bridle, "this way,
please." There was still so much screaming and confusion in the Throne
Room no one had overheard the conversation between the newcomers and
the Emperor's horse, and, guided by the invisible hand, Chalk crossed
the room without bumping into anything or anybody. A moment later they
were in the dark, quiet laboratory that had once belonged to the Wizard
of Oz.




CHAPTER 18

The Emperor's Horse Makes a Bargain


Bitty Bit's shooting tower had made a record trip to the Emerald City,
and guided by the little Seer of Some Summit, had come to a deft and
dexterous stop right outside the windows of the great Throne Room.
After a short, anxious look inside, and before anyone was aware of
their arrival, Dorothy removed the lid from the box of the powder of
darkness and threw a generous pinch into the air, plunging the Emerald
City into an instant and thunderous dark. Under cover of this magic
darkness, Dorothy, Pigasus, and Bitty Bit boldly entered the palace and
singled out the white horse and his terrified Master. They had fully
expected some resistance--Dorothy had brought a long piece of rope and
Pigasus carried a stout club under his wing--but they were delighted
to find the Emperor too frightened and his white horse too clever to
resist an invisible foe. Being able to see in the dark themselves, they
had Chalk and Skamperoo at a decided advantage. Dorothy's plans, now
that they had actually returned to the Emerald City, were rather vague,
but Bitty Bit knew just what he hoped and intended to do. His seerish
powers had enabled him to discover that all the changes in Oz had been
brought about by the magic emeralds which in some way had fallen into
Skamperoo's hands, and these emeralds Bitty Bit meant to have at the
earliest possible moment.

So first, he ordered all the windows and doors in the laboratory
closed, then, annoyed by the screams and crashes still issuing from
every room in the castle, he advised Dorothy to put the lid back on the
powder of darkness.

"But supposing someone disturbs us before we finish," objected Pigasus,
looking doubtfully at the tremendous war horse, who stood with feet
braced and ears back ready to listen or defy them. Somehow Chalk had
managed to toss Skamperoo back into the saddle and with both hands
fixed grimly in the horse's mane, the Emperor was blinking his eyes in
a vain attempt to see them or catch a glimpse of Matiah, for he was
convinced that the merchant was at the bottom of the whole procedure.

"If we agree to lift this pall of darkness, will you agree to grant us
an uninterrupted hour of your time?" asked Bitty Bit, turning toward
the Emperor, but really addressing the horse, whom he considered the
better man of the two.

"I think we can, without undue danger, promise that," answered Chalk
guardedly, while Skamperoo hemmed and hawed with indecision. "Of
course, you must promise to use no more magic against us."

"Well, the same goes for you too, remember," put in Pigasus quickly.
"An hour's time and conversation and no trickery."

"But who--who are you?" muttered Skamperoo, finding his voice at last.
"I seem to hear three different voices."

"You'll soon see," answered Dorothy, clapping the lid on her powder of
darkness. With a suddenness that made them all gasp, the laboratory
was again flooded with the bright noon sunshine, and in a determined
row before him Skamperoo saw a pretty little girl in green, a fat pink
pig with white wings, and a small wrinkled old gentleman in brown.

"W-why--" whinnied Chalk, drawing in a deep breath of relief, "at first
I thought you were enemies, but now I see that you are merely visitors
and friends."

"That depends," observed Bitty Bit, seating himself on a tall stool
that brought him on a level with Chalk's nose. "I am the Seer of Some
Summit, but these others are Princess Dorothy and Pigasus, the Winged
Pig. They really belong in this palace and are close friends of the
rightful ruler of this country, Ozma of Oz!"

"I am the rightful ruler of Oz!" shouted Skamperoo, growing red in the
face and thrusting out his three chins belligerently.

"Oh, don't bother putting on a show for me," exclaimed Bitty Bit,
waving his arms impatiently. "Remember, I am a Seer, I know all, I see
all, and what is more, I TELL ALL! You, my pretty fellow, are really
the King of Skampavia, a small, no-count country on the other side of
the Deadly Desert. In some way the long-lost necklaces of Lorna the
Wood Nymph have come into your possession. With these necklaces you
have enchanted the people of Oz into believing you are their ruler.
You have wickedly banished Ozma and her allies and counselors and
unlawfully made yourself Emperor of Oz."

"That seems to cover everything," drawled Chalk, as Skamperoo turned
from red to purple.

"Not everything!" went on Bitty Bit, shaking his finger sternly under
Chalk's nose. "Kingdoms are not won and held by trickery, my friends,
and we are here to see that those necklaces are returned and the
Kingdom of Oz restored to its proper rulers."

"And suppose we refuse!" suggested the white horse in a bored voice.
"What then?"

"Why then," Bitty Bit threw back his shoulders and spun round several
times on his shiny stool, "why then it means WAR!" Bitty Bit did not
say who were his friends or allies or where he should get his armies,
but he spoke with such firm confidence, both Skamperoo and Chalk were
taken aback and completely dismayed. Matiah had been bad enough, but
this strange and determined little Seer was worse.

"Perhaps we can make a bargain, or come to some agreement?" suggested
Chalk, resolved to save what he could for himself and his Master.
"Suppose King Skamperoo and I agree to return the emerald necklaces,
which undoubtedly belong in Oz, will you grant us the privilege of
using them twice for ourselves?"

"But--but--" Skamperoo was about to blurt out the fact that they no
longer had the necklaces when Chalk gave him a savage nip on the leg
which silenced him effectively.

"Why should we do that?" inquired Pigasus, fluttering his wings
nervously. "After all the grief and worry you have caused us, you are
lucky to get off with your skins."

"Where are the necklaces now?" asked Dorothy, stepping close to Chalk
and looking eagerly up into the face of the discomfited Emperor.
Skamperoo's face grew long as a balloon suddenly punctured, but
remembering Chalk's last bite, he managed to keep silent.

"When you have answered OUR question, we will answer yours," stated
Chalk, firmly but pleasantly. "You can, of course, appeal to the Court
and members of the household, but I think you will find them entirely
satisfied with their present Emperor and ready to stand by him to the
last man." At Chalk's words, Bitty Bit looked rather crestfallen. As
the white horse had so quietly stated, they were perfectly powerless
to take the necklaces by force and a quick inspection of the Emperor,
when he first reached the palace, had convinced him Skamperoo was not
wearing the precious emeralds. At this rather embarrassing moment a
series of thumps, kicks, and knocks on the door made not only the
rescuers, but the Emperor and Chalk turn rather pale.

"Oh! Oh! It's Matiah!" quavered Skamperoo, whose nerves were
completely shaken by the shocking disclosures of the last few moments.
"Oh! Oh! What'll we do now?"

"Hold your tongue," advised Chalk, and swinging round he trotted
briskly over to the door.

"Who's there?" he demanded in a dignified voice.

"'Tis I-Iva the Kitchen Boy!" stuttered a frightened treble. "I must
see the Emperor at once."

"Well, shall we let him in?" Bitty Bit looked uneasily at Pigasus and
Dorothy and then rather thoughtfully at Chalk.

"Suit yourselves," yawned the white horse indifferently. "It's probably
a messenger telling us the pudding is cold with all this delay and
darkness. You asked for an hour's time and conversation and we agreed
to that demand, so it is for you to decide what to do, not us."

"Oh, let him in," fumed Pigasus, "and tell him to stop this hammering
and yammering. What harm is there in a Kitchen Boy?"

So Bitty Bit, taking the key from the lock and squinting through the
keyhole to assure himself there was only a small boy outside, quickly
admitted him. Now in darted Iva, screaming loudly of a mad man in the
cellar and bursting into tearful and incoherent recital of his woes.
Scarcely had he got out two sentences before Skamperoo fell bodily off
his horse and made a desperate snatch at the Kitchen Boy's throat. But
Bitty Bit was too quick for him. His eyes, too, had caught the glimmer
of emeralds, and jerking the three chains from the lad's neck as Chalk
made a savage lunge forward, he tossed them to Pigasus. Catching them
on his nose as cleverly as a trained seal, the pink pig spread his
wings and flew up to the top of a tall cabinet, where he sat panting
and puffing with satisfaction and defiance.

"Come down, you fat scoundrel!" roared Skamperoo, dancing up and down
like a dervish, while the poor Kitchen Boy, outraged by the way both
Skamperoo and Bitty Bit had rushed upon him, burst into loud sobs and
rushing out the still open door, ran crying down the corridor. Slamming
the door and locking it after him, Bitty Bit rather anxiously waited
for Chalk's next move, and as usual Chalk was quite prepared and ready
to make it.

"Well," he observed with a jaunty flick of his tail, "now that you have
the famous wishing emeralds, I suppose you are satisfied and we may as
well go. Come along, Skamperoo, you will get nowhere in an argument
with a pig. Just casting pearls before swine, you know, and he already
has our emeralds!"

"You mean your wishing necklaces!" shrieked Pigasus furiously, "and
I'll tell you what I wish. I wish that you and your silly Master were
clams at the bottom of the Nonestic Ocean!" Thoroughly shocked and
startled by the pink pig's unexpected wish, Bitty Bit and Dorothy
rushed toward the cabinet, hoping in some way to prevent the wish from
taking effect. But they need not have worried, for of course, nothing
happened at all. Then Skamperoo, urged by Chalk, hastily climbed into
the saddle.

"Well," whinnied the white horse, twitching his ears provokingly,
"goodbye to you. Goodbye! We'll just be trotting along."

"Wait! Look here, hold on a bit." The little Seer of Some Summit
stepped angrily in front of the white horse. "How do these emeralds
work, how are we to disenchant the rulers of Oz and restore Ozma to the
throne unless we know the proper way to use these magic chains?"

"I'm afraid that's YOUR problem," sighed Chalk, rolling his eyes round
at Skamperoo. "Come now, my little mannikin, open up the door. We kept
our promise and you must keep yours. After all, my Master has done no
real harm here. There has been no war or bloodshed. In fact, everything
has been decidedly gay and jolly. If his laudable ambition to better
himself brought Ozma and her counselors a little well-earned rest, at
least they have suffered no pain or unpleasantness, and are perfectly
unaware of what has happened to them. Open the door, I tell you, or
I'll call for help and there are many in this palace who would gladly
come to our assistance."

"Oh! Oh! What shall we do?" wailed Dorothy, as Bitty Bit stood
uncertainly with his back to the door. "You're the horridest horse I've
ever known!"

"Well, that's all in the way you look at me," answered Chalk, staring
steadily into Dorothy's eyes. "You, my dear, are fond of your Mistress,
Queen Ozma of Oz, and are trying to help her. I, on my part, am
exceedingly fond of my Master, the King of Skampavia, and am trying to
help him. You can't blame me for that, you know."

"The creature is right," sighed Bitty Bit, "and we'll have to agree to
his plans, preposterous though they are."

"That would, of course, be the sensible thing to do," murmured Chalk,
lowering his eyes modestly. "You grant me two wishes and I will tell
you the proper way to use the magic wishing chains."

"But suppose they are bad wishes--I mean," Bitty Bit corrected himself
hastily, "good for you, but bad for us, what then? With the necklaces
in your possession, you could wish yourselves away in an instant."

"That," admitted Chalk, "is perfectly true, but I am afraid you will
have to take that chance--and trust me."

"Never do it! Never do it!" squealed Pigasus, who now had the necklaces
tucked tightly under his wing. "We might as well throw ourselves out of
the window."

But Bitty Bit, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers close to
his forehead, made no reply. "I'll trust you," he said after a short
silence, and opening his eyes he looked cheerfully up at the white
horse. "Hand down those necklaces, Pigasus, and be quick about it too;
I hear footsteps in the passageway."

"Well, don't blame me if we're turned to pretzels and pumpernickel,"
grunted the pig, dropping the necklaces into the seer's outstretched
hand. "Goodbye, all." Turning his back in disgust and covering his
ears with his wings, Pigasus waited in fear and trembling for the
end. But Bitty Bit quite calmly handed the emeralds to Skamperoo, and
Skamperoo immediately draped them over Chalk's left ear.

"Now, then," murmured Chalk, looking firmly back at the unhappy
Emperor, "repeat exactly what I say and all will yet be well."

"I wish," began Chalk, while Skamperoo listened with bulging eyes, "I
wish that the five wishes I make when we return to Skampavia shall be
instantly granted." As Skamperoo repeated the wish and slowly started
to count to a hundred, Dorothy fidgeted with uneasiness and Pigasus
fairly groaned with alarm, for it seemed to them both that their danger
had only been postponed and not averted.

"My second wish I will keep for our return," decided Chalk. "Now, my
dear, attend closely. Since you are the avowed friend of Ozma and live
with her in this palace, it seems to me you are the one to keep safely
the secret of the magic emeralds." Moving close to Dorothy, Chalk put
his soft pink nose close to her ear and whispered several very hoarse
sentences. "Get it? Get it?" he demanded, backing away exuberantly.

"Oh--is THAT all?" Dorothy pushed back her hair in surprise and
bewilderment, "why anyone could do that!"

"Then prove it by sending us back to Skampavia," beamed Chalk, shaking
his mane approvingly. "It would be embarrassing for us to be here when
Ozma and her friends return. Here, my child, take the necklaces and
I'll do the wishing." Pigasus, now more interested than frightened,
tried his best to see what Dorothy did after she clasped the emeralds
around her neck and the white horse solemnly wished himself and
Skamperoo back in Skampavia, but before Chalk reached ten in his
counting, there was a whiff and puff and except for a slight rustle in
the air, no sign at all of the splendid white steed and his red-faced
Master.

"It works! It works!" exulted Bitty Bit, hopping about like a Brownie.
"Can you do it again, my dear? All we need to do is to wish that the
people of Oz shall be released from this wicked spell of forgetting and
then wish Ozma and all the others safely back to this palace."

"Don't forget Highboy!" cried Pigasus, switching his little tail
violently. "He's gone, too, you know, and don't forget Jinnicky and old
Willy Green Whiskers!"

"I'll remember!" promised Bitty Bit. "All ready, Dorothy?" The little
girl nodded and Bitty Bit, looking and feeling more serious and
important than he had ever felt in his whole little life, slowly made
the wish that was to restore peace and happiness to Oz.

"I wish," said the little sage sternly, "that the wicked enchantment
cast by Skamperoo upon the inhabitants of Oz be instantly dispelled. I
wish that Ozma herself, the Wizard of Oz, the Red Jinn of Ev, the King
and Queen of the Munchkins and their son Prince Philador, the King and
Queen of the Gillikens and their giant horse, Glinda the Good Sorceress
of the South, Nick Chopper the Tin Emperor of the East, and the Soldier
with the Green Whiskers be immediately released from Thunder Mountain
and restored to this palace. One--two--three--four--five--six--seven."

At seven Pigasus with a loud squall of astonishment fell from the top
of the cabinet, and Dorothy rushed joyfully forward. For now, every
chair around the Wizard's table was occupied. At the head sat Ozma,
calm and gracious as ever, at the foot the spry little Wizard, and
between, all the others who had so recently lain at the bottom of
Lightning Lake. Highboy stood over by the window looking dreamily out
across the garden and none of them seemed in the least surprised or
excited to find themselves in the Wizard's laboratory.

"Let--me--see--" mused Ozma, raising her hand gravely--"Ah, yes--we are
here to discuss a threatened danger to ourselves and the Kingdom of Oz."

"But it's all over now," cried Dorothy, running over to Ozma and
flinging both arms round her waist. "It's all over and we're safe and
you're safe, and my, how glad we are to have you back here again!"

"Here!" exclaimed the Wizard, popping up like a startled
Jack-in-the-Box, "where else would we be?"

"Only at the bottom of Lightning Lake in Thunder Mountain," murmured
Bitty Bit, coming modestly forward to meet the Fairy Ruler of Oz and
winking merrily at Jinnicky, whom he already knew.




CHAPTER 19

The Story of the Necklaces


Ozma's surprise and the astonishment of all the rest of that company
around the Wizard's table can well be imagined.

"I didn't hear any thunder," snorted Highboy, lowering himself down
to Bitty Bit's level. "Not a clap! And if we were at the bottom of
Lightning Lake, what did we eat?"

"We didn't!" announced Jinnicky in a hollow voice, "what COULD we
have eaten in such a place, you old fire-eater, you?" To have been
enchanted and put out of existence for three whole days was an amazing
experience, and as Dorothy and Bitty Bit, helped out now and then by
Pigasus, explained all that had happened to the victims of Skamperoo's
ambition and to themselves in the course of their journey of rescue,
Ozma's face grew both grave and serious. It was disturbing to realize
how easily Oz had been captured and the powerful Wizards and Glinda the
Sorceress pushed aside. The Wizard of Oz himself seemed to feel the
most discouraged and downcast of all to think he had been so easily
overcome, and that his magic had not been strong enough to withstand
the wicked spell of the invaders.

"I should have foreseen something like this, and been prepared,"
mourned the little man, mopping his head with a map of Oz which he
happened to have in his pocket.

"Yes," sighed the Tin Woodman, feeling his joints anxiously to see
whether they had been rusted by his three-day immersion in Lightning
Lake, "we might have been prisoners in Thunder Mountain forever had it
not been for Dorothy and Pigasus and this sagacious little Seer. But
tell me, Dorothy, how was it that you alone, of all the people in the
palace, remembered and missed us?"

"Well," confessed Dorothy, seating herself cautiously on Nick Chopper's
tin knees, "it must have been the Wizard's wishing pill. You see,
just as the Soldier's beard turned red, I found one in my pocket, and
popping it into my mouth, wished that I might save Oz from any danger
that threatened. It kept me from forgetting Ozma and all of you, and
when I sat on Pigasus' back, he remembered, too, and we--"

"Did save Oz!" finished the little Wizard, bounding triumphantly to
his feet and restored to instant cheerfulness by Dorothy's generous
statement. "I tell you, I'll match my wishing powers with any wishing
powers in the country!"

"But you won't have to, now," smiled Bitty Bit with an envious glance
at the sparkling necklaces Dorothy had placed on the table before Ozma.
"With these emeralds and your own magic powers, nothing like this could
ever happen in Oz again."

"Thank you, Bitty Bit," smiled the little Queen, nodding graciously.
"Thank you a hundred times for all you have done for us and for Oz, and
perhaps, if we coaxed, you might remain as our Royal Seer?"

"Hear, hear, our Royal Seer!" cried Pigasus, clapping his wings. "Will
you be it, Sir Bitty Bit?"

"Well," acknowledged Bitty Bit, with a low bow toward Ozma, "I'm
tempted to accept, but, on the other hand, I am so foolishly fond of my
own castle, I just could not be content in any other place. But if Your
Majesty ever needs me for serious business, you can always command my
services by using either the wishing necklaces or your magic belt."

"And he'll come like a shot in his shooting tower," Dorothy smiled as
she slid carefully from Nick Chopper's knee. "But, say--what's that?"
A hundred footsteps sounded in the corridor, accompanied by confused
voices, questioning calls and finally loud thumps on the door. "It must
be all the rest of the courtiers and visitors remembering they have a
Queen!"

"I hear Scraps and the Scarecrow," squealed Pigasus, "I hear Bettsy
Bobbin and Trot. Quick, Dorothy, open the door."

"No, no, not yet," said Ozma gently but firmly. "There is more, much
more for us to hear and settle. But you go out, Pigasus, and tell them
all about our enchantment, Skamperoo's reign and our rescue."

"Be glad to! Charmed! And trust me to do it right." Swelling up with
importance and pride, Pigasus flew out the window before Dorothy
had time to open the door. A few moments later, the company in the
Wizard's laboratory heard him calling everyone to follow him to the
Throne Room and hear the most startling news since Dorothy killed the
wicked Witches of the East and West.

"And how he'll love telling it," said Bitty Bit, smiling across at the
Wizard of Ev. "A great idea of yours, this pig, Jinny. Even if his
verses are low, I like him."

"Oh, everyone likes Pigasus," declared Dorothy, coming over to sit
on the arm of Glinda's chair. "But what I'd like to know is how that
Kitchen Boy happened to have the emeralds, how Skamperoo got them and
where they came from in the first place?"

"Yes," murmured Glinda, who, like the Wizard, felt very much annoyed
to have been overpowered by a fat, unimportant monarch like Skamperoo.
"Now that we have these wishing chains, we must guard them carefully to
keep them from falling into such mischievous hands again."

"I believe Bitty Bit can tell us the story of the emeralds," said Ozma,
who had been much impressed by the cheerful little seer of Some Summit.
"With his gift of foreseeing and foretelling he probably knows the
whole story."

"Can he look backward as well as forward?" inquired the Wizard
challengingly.

"Just as well," confessed Bitty Bit with an embarrassed little cough,
and as every head turned expectantly toward him, the sage closed his
eyes and quietly told them the interesting history of Matiah's three
necklaces.

"These magic emeralds," began Bitty Bit, waving his hands rhythmically
backward and forward, "were first collected and strung into necklaces
by a wizard named Wam for the King of the Green Mountain as a gift for
the wood nymph Lorna. But the King of the Green Mountain was an ugly
little dwarf, and though she had promised to marry him, no sooner did
Lorna have the necklaces than she turned the King into a frog and hid
herself away in her own forest. In the giant hollow tree where Lorna
lived there was a mischievous family of squirrels. That night, as Lorna
lay sleeping with the emeralds on a little golden plate beside her,
one of the squirrels, thinking the gems some new and delicious kind of
nuts, stole and buried them away for the winter. Next morning, though
Lorna ran crying and searching all through the forest, she was unable
to find her wishing necklaces."

"Then what became of them?" gasped Dorothy as Bitty Bit, opening his
eyes for a moment, blinked cheerfully over their heads.

"Wait, I'll tell you!" Closing his eyes, the sage went hurriedly on
with the story. "Ah, so this is it! A woodcutter's boy, poking about
among the leaves, found the emeralds and as emeralds in themselves
are not uncommon in Oz, he traded them to a peddler for a new ax. The
peddler, arriving after a long while in Skampavia, had no trouble in
disposing of the jewels. In Skampavia, you must know, emeralds, pearls,
or jewels of any kind are practically unknown, and a merchant gave the
peddler not only his house and shop, but all of his merchandise for the
three sparkling chains. By a law in Skampavia every subject must render
to the King one-third of all he owns or raises, and in due course, one
of the necklaces was sent to Skamperoo. The King, delighted with the
sparkling gems, insisted on having all three necklaces, and Matiah
himself brought them to the castle, determined, if possible, to steal
them back at the first opportunity. In order to do so without arousing
the suspicions of the King, he pretends to be a Wizard and tells him if
he, Matiah, wears the three necklaces, he can grant any wish the King
may make, but that as he makes the wish he must close his eyes and
count to a hundred. As soon as Skamperoo began to count, Matiah started
to run off with the emeralds and that accounts for the white horse,
for you see Skamperoo's first wish was for a splendid white charger
with a golden mane and tail. Frightened almost out of his senses by
the sudden appearance of the horse and the knowledge that the chains
really did have some magic power, Matiah steals back beside the King,
resolved to wait for another opportunity to procure the necklaces.
Meanwhile, Skamperoo, excited and happy over the granting of his first
wish, confides in the merchant his second wish and ambition to be ruler
of Oz. Matiah, to gain time in which he can work out the secret of the
emeralds' power, approves of the King's idea, but tells him he can
only grant one wish a week. He then advises Skamperoo to cause all the
people in Oz to forget their former rulers and to remove the Wizard and
all his magic, Ozma, and the rulers of the four Oz countries to the
inaccessible caverns of Thunder Mountain.

"Now while Matiah is trying his best to discover the trick of the magic
emeralds, Skamperoo, growing tired of the tempery fellow, appealed
to his horse. The horse, being magically brought to life and being
unusually sharp-witted and quick, soon worked out the problem. With his
help Skamperoo wished the spell of forgetting upon Ozma's subjects,
banished her Highness and all of the others just as Matiah had
suggested and managed to rule Oz for three whole days."

"But what became of Matiah?" asked Glinda, leaning forward eagerly.

"At this moment Matiah is lying in a senseless condition in the
underground chamber beneath this castle," Bitty Bit told them solemnly
and without opening his eyes. "Soon after Skamperoo left for Oz, the
merchant was driven out of Skampavia by Pinny Penny, whom Skamperoo had
made King. Matiah, furious to think the apparently stupid sovereign had
outwitted him, bribed an eagle to carry him across the desert, arrived
at the Emerald City and soon afterward managed to really steal the
necklaces from Skamperoo. Discovering beneath the cellar the excavated
chambers of the old Gnome King, he retired to this quiet spot to again
experiment with the emeralds. Needing another person to help, he seized
the Kitchen Boy who had come to the cellar for supplies and forced him
to assist in his experiments. How soon he might have discovered the
real trick of the chains I cannot say, but our own arrival and Gloma's
powder of darkness happily interrupted him. The Kitchen Boy, who had
kept his eyes glued to the stone steps and trapdoor during the entire
morning, made an immediate dash for freedom and managed to escape in
spite of the darkness. Matiah, not so fortunate, rushed into a stone
pillar and knocked himself senseless. He's still lying there, and I
suggest that your Majesty deal with him at once."

"I will," decided Ozma firmly, as Bitty Bit opened his eyes and looked
cheerfully around the table. "And I'll do it by means of these very
magic emeralds. Put on the emeralds, Dorothy, for you alone know the
secret of their magic power." So Dorothy, anxious to have Matiah out
of Oz before he recovered his wicked wits, hastily clasped the three
chains around her slim throat.

"It is my earnest wish that Matiah shall immediately and henceforth
forget the emerald necklaces of Oz, return to his country and become a
good and simple citizen of Skampavia," said Ozma seriously, beginning
her count to one hundred.

"He's gone! He's gone!" piped up Bitty Bit, who had closed his eyes as
soon as Ozma started to speak. "And if I were you, my dear, I would
send off that red eagle too. I see him lurking on the edge of our city
with an exceedingly fierce light in his eye." So Ozma made another
wish, turning the eagle to a harmless sparrow.

"And what about Skamperoo?" asked Cheeriobed, King of the Munchkins,
who up to this time had not spoken a word. "Should he not be punished
in some way?"

"I would not bother with old Skamper," advised Bitty Bit with a small
chuckle. "Before I agreed to give his white horse those five wishes,
I closed my eyes, looked ahead, and discovered that they would all be
good wishes. Not only good but wise, and from now on I think you can
trust that clever white horse and a little fellow called Pinny Penny to
keep their Master out of mischief and Oz."

"Well, in that case," sighed Ozma, rather breathless from so much
counting, "everything is happily settled."

"And in that case," boomed Joe King, gallantly helping his little Queen
to her feet, "I suggest we start celebrating all over again, not only
the discovery of Oz by mortals, but the saving of Oz as well! I, for
one, feel terribly cheated at missing Notta's circus."

"So do I! So do I!" exclaimed little Prince Philador, climbing
boisterously into Highboy's saddle. "I want to see a circus!"

"And so you shall," promised Ozma gaily, "we will start the celebration
at exactly the point where we left Oz for Thunder Mountain, and have
the tableaux, the pageants, and the picnics all over again."

And that, my dear, is exactly what they _did_ do, and everyone,
including Bitty Bit, enjoyed himself so much there was not an unhappy
person in the Emerald City. And not until the end of the second day did
Dorothy remember to tell Ozma the magic secret of the wishing emeralds.

"On the sixth count, you wink both eyes," whispered Dorothy, giving
Ozma a little hug. "Good night!"

"Good gracious, so THAT'S it!" smiled Ozma, comprehending instantly
what Dorothy meant. "I suppose Matiah did it in sheer excitement the
first time. Well, I have often heard of doing things in the twinkling
of an eye, but now we shall really be able to have them that way.
No one knows this secret but you and me and a white horse, and no
one _must_ ever know it, for wishes are dangerous and cause more
unhappiness than joy, so we'll never tell another soul, will we,
Dorothy?"

"Never!" agreed the little girl, looking solemnly over her shoulder at
the safe where Ozma had hidden her new treasure.




CHAPTER 20

Back in Skampavia!


"So there you are!" Pinny Penny straightened up with a little
grimace, for he had been planting flowers in a new rock garden he was
planning for the King. With an expression about equally compounded of
exasperation and affection, he looked at his former Master and the
white horse who had, without sound or warning, dropped down in the path
before him. "I thought you'd come back," continued Pinny Penny, calmly
rubbing the mud from his fingers and putting out his hand. "So it was
your horse, after all." His gaze rested speculatively on the splendid
white steed and richly jeweled robes of Skamperoo. "And you've made
your fortune, I see! Well, welcome home anyway, your crown's hanging
on a nail back of the throne and I think you will find everything in
order."

"In order! Why, it looks wonderful!" shouted Skamperoo, leaping
exuberantly out of the saddle, and honestly surprised and pleased at
the pleasure he felt in seeing old Pinny Penny again. "You've had the
palace painted and this garden and that fountain and the flowers.
They're all new, aren't they?"

"Yes," agreed Pinny Penny guardedly. "I made a few new laws while you
were gone, Skamper, making the tax only one-twentieth of our subjects'
earnings. They were so grateful and delighted, they've been sending you
presents ever since. Then the guards (having no drill or marching to
bother them, I did away with THAT, too), the guards in their odd time
agreed to work around the castle and we've been brightening up the old
place quite a bit. I tell you," Pinny Penny exhaled his breath noisily,
"we'll make a going and coming country of this yet!"

"Of course we will," said Skamperoo, bouncing happily along at his
side. "I've had a lot of experience since I saw you, old Skinny Pins.
Ho, Pinny, my boy, I've been an Emperor in Oz!"

"OZ? Never!" Closing his lips into a thin line, Pinny Penny looked from
his Master to Chalk, who was stepping sedately along on his other side.

"But it's perfectly true," whinnied the white horse, prancing a bit
from sheer enjoyment, "and now we are home with five splendid wishes."

"Wishes?" sniffed Pinny Penny, rearing his head suspiciously. "What
good are wishes?"

"But these wishes really work and come true," explained Chalk with a
toss of his head, "and what's more they are going to work and come true
for Skampavia!"

"Any wish you work hard enough for will come true," insisted Pinny
Penny stubbornly. "Wishes--POOH! Wishes--POOH! 'If wishes were horses,
beggars would ride!'" finished the little Prime Minister half under his
breath.

"But don't you see?" Skamperoo grasped Pinny Penny firmly by the
shoulders. "This is one time when wishes WERE horses and beggars DID
ride. My first wish was for a horse and here he is, and as true as you
are and as wise and clever. Why, even if the magic emeralds give me
nothing more, I am still the luckiest fellow on this side of the Deadly
Desert!"

"Moons, stars, and rainbows! I believe you have gotten some sense,"
gasped Pinny Penny, staring with wide eyes into Skamperoo's face. "And
that's the first good I ever knew to come of magic."

Pulling Pinny Penny down to his old bench, now neatly mended and
painted green, the King of Skampavia told his little Prime Minister the
whole story I have just been telling you. When he finished and settled
back complacently, Pinny Penny instead of looking glad or pleased
stared mournfully at the ground.

"_Now_ what's the matter?" demanded Skamperoo, clapping him impatiently
on the back, while Chalk, breaking off a little branch with his teeth,
tickled Pinny Penny mischievously under the chin. "Why are you so sad
and solemn?"

"Because"--Pinny Penny ground the toe of his boot deeply into the
gravel in the path--"if you really have five more magic wishes, you'll
probably be going to some grand other place and be spending the rest of
your life in travel."

"If that were so, we wouldn't be here at all," puffed Skamperoo. "Now
get this through your head, old fellow. We are here by our own wish and
from now on my own country is good enough for me and when we've made
these five good wishes--good enough for anybody!"

"There you go! There you go!" groaned Pinny Penny, covering his face
with his hands. "It's the wishes I'm afraid of."

"Well, you needn't be!" With a great effort Skamperoo made his first
really great and wise decision. "You shall make the wishes yourself,
Pinny Penny, and I shall save only one in case of trouble!"

"Bravo! Bravo!" snorted Chalk, prancing three times round the green
bench.

"Me? You really mean me?" quavered Pinny Penny, pointing an unbelieving
finger at his own mid-section. Then, as Skamperoo nodded and before he
could change his mind, the old Chancellor fairly leapt into the air.

"I wish the King of this country to always be as wise and generous as
he has succeeded in being at this moment, as wise as the young Fairy
Ruler of Oz," panted Pinny Penny. "I wish that the people of Skampavia,
using the powers and abilities they already have, shall make this a
rich, happy, and prosperous Kingdom. I wish that the climate and soil,
the only bad features about which we might complain, shall become mild
and fertile! That's all, that's all I can think of!" confessed Pinny
Penny, shrinking happily back on the bench.

"Then I'll make a wish," whinnied Chalk, shaking his beautiful golden
mane. "I wish that we three may never be separated! Long live the KING
AND HIS PRIME MINISTER!"

"And his horse!" cried Skamperoo, bounding up to seize Chalk's bridle.

"And his horse!" echoed Pinny Penny heartily, running round to seize
Chalk's bridle on the other side. "We three for Skampavia forever!"

Then, with Chalk stepping proudly in the center, these three strangely
assorted comrades made their way into the palace. Knowing the power
of the magic emeralds, and also the magic power of knowledge and
experience, I am sure that Skampavia under its new regime, will soon be
as happy and prosperous as any Nation in Oz!

THE END