Nanda brought Dorothy bread
and water for her supper, and
she slept upon a hard stone couch
with a single pillow and a silken
coverlet.
In the morning she leaned out
of the window of her prison in
the tower to see if there was
any way to escape. The room was
not so very high up, when compared
with our modern buildings, but
it was far enough above the trees
and farm houses to give her a
good view of the surrounding
country.
To the east she saw the forest,
with the sands beyond it and
the ocean beyond that. There
was even a dark speck upon the
shore that she thought might
be the chicken-coop in which
she had arrived at this singular
country.
Then she looked to the north,
and saw a deep but narrow valley
lying between two rocky mountains,
and a third mountain that shut
off the valley at the further
end.
Westward the fertile Land of
Ev suddenly ended a little way
from the palace, and the girl
could see miles and miles of
sandy desert that stretched further
than her eyes could reach. It
was this desert, she thought,
with much interest, that alone
separated her from the wonderful
Land of Oz, and she remembered
sorrowfully that she had been
told no one had ever been able
to cross this dangerous waste
but herself. Once a cyclone had
carried her across it, and a
magical pair of silver shoes
had carried her back again. But
now she had neither a cyclone
nor silver shoes to assist her,
and her condition was sad indeed.
For she had become the prisoner
of a disagreeable princess who
insisted that she must exchange
her head for another one that
she was not used to, and which
might not fit her at all.
Really, there seemed no hope
of help for her from her old
friends in the Land of Oz. Thoughtfully
she gazed from her narrow window.
On all the desert not a living
thing was stirring.
Wait, though! Something surely
WAS stirring on the desert--something
her eyes had not observed at
first. Now it seemed like a cloud;
now it seemed like a spot of
silver; now it seemed to be a
mass of rainbow colors that moved
swiftly toward her.
What COULD it be, she wondered?
Then, gradually, but in a brief
space of time nevertheless, the
vision drew near enough to Dorothy
to make out what it was.
A broad green carpet was unrolling
itself upon the desert, while
advancing across the carpet was
a wonderful procession that made
the girl open her eyes in amazement
as she gazed.
First came
a magnificent golden chariot,
drawn by a great Lion
and an immense Tiger, who stood
shoulder to shoulder and trotted
along as gracefully as a well-matched
team of thoroughbred horses.
And standing upright within the
chariot was a beautiful girl
clothed in flowing robes of silver
gauze and wearing a jeweled diadem
upon her dainty head. She held
in one hand the satin ribbons
that guided her astonishing team,
and in the other an ivory wand
that separated at the top into
two prongs, the prongs being
tipped by the letters "O" and "Z",
made of glistening diamonds set
closely together.
The girl seemed neither older
nor larger than Dorothy herself,
and at once the prisoner in the
tower guessed that the lovely
driver of the chariot must be
that Ozma of Oz of whom she had
so lately heard from Tiktok.
Following close behind the
chariot Dorothy saw her old friend
the Scarecrow, riding calmly
astride a wooden Saw-Horse, which
pranced and trotted as naturally
as any meat horse could have
done.
And then came Nick Chopper,
the Tin Woodman, with his funnel-shaped
cap tipped carelessly over his
left ear, his gleaming axe over
his right shoulder, and his whole
body sparkling as brightly as
it had ever done in the old days
when first she knew him.
The Tin Woodman was on foot,
marching at the head of a company
of twenty-seven soldiers, of
whom some were lean and some
fat, some short and some tall;
but all the twenty-seven were
dressed in handsome uniforms
of various designs and colors,
no two being alike in any respect.
Behind the soldiers the green
carpet rolled itself up again,
so that there was always just
enough of it for the procession
to walk upon, in order that their
feet might not come in contact
with the deadly, life-destroying
sands of the desert.
Dorothy knew at once it was
a magic carpet she beheld, and
her heart beat high with hope
and joy as she realized she was
soon to be rescued and allowed
to greet her dearly beloved friends
of Oz--the Scarecrow, the Tin
Woodman and the Cowardly Lion.
Indeed, the girl felt herself
as good as rescued as soon as
she recognized those in the procession,
for she well knew the courage
and loyalty of her old comrades,
and also believed that any others
who came from their marvelous
country would prove to be pleasant
and reliable acquaintances.
As soon as the last bit of
desert was passed and all the
procession, from the beautiful
and dainty Ozma to the last soldier,
had reached the grassy meadows
of the Land of Ev, the magic
carpet rolled itself together
and entirely disappeared.
Then the chariot driver turned
her Lion and Tiger into a broad
roadway leading up to the palace,
and the others followed, while
Dorothy still gazed from her
tower window in eager excitement.
They came quite close to the
front door of the palace and
then halted, the Scarecrow dismounting
from his Saw-Horse to approach
the sign fastened to the door,
that he might read what it said.
Dorothy, just above him, could
keep silent no longer.
"Here I am!" she shouted, as
loudly as she could. "Here's
Dorothy!"
"Dorothy who?" asked
the Scarecrow, tipping his
head to look upward
until he nearly lost his balance
and tumbled over backward.
"Dorothy Gale, of course. Your
friend from Kansas," she answered.
"Why, hello, Dorothy!" said
the Scarecrow. "What in the world
are you doing up there?"
"Nothing," she called down, "because
there's nothing to do. Save me,
my friend--save me!"
"You seem to be quite safe
now," replied the Scarecrow.
"But I'm a prisoner. I'm locked
in, so that I can't get out," she
pleaded.
"That's all right," said the
Scarecrow. "You might be worse
off, little Dorothy. Just consider
the matter. You can't get drowned,
or be run over by a Wheeler,
or fall out of an apple-tree.
Some folks would think they were
lucky to be up there."
"Well, I don't," declared the
girl, "and I want to get down
immed'i'tly and see you and the
Tin Woodman and the Cowardly
Lion."
"Very well," said the Scarecrow,
nodding. "It shall be just as
you say, little friend. Who locked
you up?"
"The princess Langwidere, who
is a horrid creature," she answered.
At this Ozma, who had been
listening carefully to the conversation,
called to Dorothy from her chariot,
asking:
"Why did the
Princess lock you up, my dear?"
"Because," exclaimed Dorothy, "I
wouldn't let her have my head
for her collection, and take
an old, cast-off head in exchange
for it."
"I do not blame you," exclaimed
Ozma, promptly. "I will see the
Princess at once, and oblige
her to liberate you."
"Oh, thank you very, very much!" cried
Dorothy, who as soon as she heard
the sweet voice of the girlish
Ruler of Oz knew that she would
soon learn to love her dearly.
Ozma now drove her chariot
around to the third door of the
wing, upon which the Tin Woodman
boldly proceeded to knock.
As soon as the maid opened
the door Ozma, bearing in her
hand her ivory wand, stepped
into the hall and made her way
at once to the drawing-room,
followed by all her company,
except the Lion and the Tiger.
And the twenty-seven soldiers
made such a noise and a clatter
that the little maid Nanda ran
away screaming to her mistress,
whereupon the Princess Langwidere,
roused to great anger by this
rude invasion of her palace,
came running into the drawing-room
without any assistance whatever.
There she stood before the
slight and delicate form of the
little girl from Oz and cried
out;--
"How dare you
enter my palace unbidden? Leave
this room at
once, or I will bind you and
all your people in chains, and
throw you into my darkest dungeons!"
"What a dangerous lady!" murmured
the Scarecrow, in a soft voice.
"She seems a little nervous," replied
the Tin Woodman.
But Ozma only smiled at the
angry Princess.
"Sit down, please," she said,
quietly. "I have traveled a long
way to see you, and you must
listen to what I have to say."
"Must!" screamed the Princess,
her black eyes flashing with
fury--for she still wore her
No. 17 head. "Must, to ME!"
"To be sure," said Ozma. "I
am Ruler of the Land of Oz, and
I am powerful enough to destroy
all your kingdom, if I so wish.
Yet I did not come here to do
harm, but rather to free the
royal family of Ev from the thrall
of the Nome King, the news having
reached me that he is holding
the Queen and her children prisoners."
Hearing these words, Langwidere
suddenly became quiet.
"I wish you could, indeed,
free my aunt and her ten royal
children," said she, eagerly. "For
if they were restored to their
proper forms and station they
could rule the Kingdom of Ev
themselves, and that would save
me a lot of worry and trouble.
At present there are at least
ten minutes every day that I
must devote to affairs of state,
and I would like to be able to
spend my whole time in admiring
my beautiful heads."
"Then we will presently discuss
this matter," said Ozma, "and
try to find a way to liberate
your aunt and cousins. But first
you must liberate another prisoner--the
little girl you have locked up
in your tower."
"Of course," said Langwidere,
readily. "I had forgotten all
about her. That was yesterday,
you know, and a Princess cannot
be expected to remember today
what she did yesterday. Come
with me, and I will release the
prisoner at once."
So Ozma followed her, and they
passed up the stairs that led
to the room in the tower.
While they were gone Ozma's
followers remained in the drawing-room,
and the Scarecrow was leaning
against a form that he had mistaken
for a copper statue when a harsh,
metallic voice said suddenly
in his ear:
"Get off my
foot, please. You are scratch-ing
my pol-ish."
"Oh, excuse me!" he replied,
hastily drawing back. "Are you
alive?"
"No," said Tiktok, "I
am on-ly a ma-chine. But I
can think and
speak and act, when I am pro-per-ly
wound up. Just now my ac-tion
is run down, and Dor-o-thy has
the key to it."
"That's all right," replied
the Scarecrow. Dorothy will soon
be free, and then she'll attend
to your works. But it must be
a great misfortune not to be
alive. I'm sorry for you."
"Why?" asked
Tiktok.
"Because you have no brains,
as I have," said the Scarecrow.
"Oh, yes, I have," returned
Tiktok. "I am fit-ted with Smith & Tin-ker's
Im-proved Com-bi-na-tion Steel
Brains. They are what make me
think. What sort of brains are
you fit-ted with?"
"I don't know," admitted the
Scarecrow. "They were given to
me by the great Wizard of Oz,
and I didn't get a chance to
examine them before he put them
in. But they work splendidly
and my conscience is very active.
Have you a conscience?"
"No," said
Tiktok.
"And no heart, I suppose?" added
the Tin Woodman, who had been
listening with interest to this
conversation.
"No," said
Tiktok.
"Then," continued the Tin Woodman, "I
regret to say that you are greatly
inferior to my friend the Scarecrow,
and to myself. For we are both
alive, and he has brains which
do not need to be wound up, while
I have an excellent heart that
is continually beating in my
bosom."
"I con-grat-u-late you," replied
Tiktok. "I can-not help be-ing
your in-fer-i-or for I am a mere
ma-chine. When I am wound up
I do my du-ty by go-ing just
as my ma-chin-er-y is made to
go. You have no i-de-a how full
of ma-chin-er-y I am."
"I can guess," said the Scarecrow,
looking at the machine man curiously. "Some
day I'd like to take you apart
and see just how you are made."
"Do not do that, I beg of you," said
Tiktok; "for you could not put
me to-geth-er a-gain, and my
use-ful-ness would be de-stroyed."
"Oh! are you useful?" asked
the Scarecrow, surprised.
"Ve-ry," said
Tiktok.
"In that case," the Scarecrow
kindly promised, "I won't fool
with your interior at all. For
I am a poor mechanic, and might
mix you up."
"Thank you," said
Tiktok.
Just then Ozma re-entered the
room, leading Dorothy by the
hand and followed closely by
the Princess Langwidere.
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