“Then let us find it,” replied the Wizard, and so all got down on their hands and knees and began examining the scattered pieces.
“I’ve found it!” cried the Shaggy Man, and ran to Dorothy with a queer-shaped piece that had a mouth on it. But when they tried to fit it to the eye and nose they found the parts wouldn’t match together.
“That mouth belongs to some other person,” said Dorothy. “You see we need a curve here and a point there, to make it fit the face.”
“Well, it must be here some place,” declared the Wizard; “so if we search long enough we shall find it.”
Dorothy fitted an ear on next, and the ear had a little patch of red hair above it. So while the others were searching for the mouth she hunted for pieces with red hair, and found several of them which, when matched to the other pieces, formed the top of a man’s head. She had also found the other eye and the ear by the time Omby Amby in a far corner discovered the mouth. When the face was thus completed all the parts joined together with a nicety that was astonishing.
“Why, it’s like a picture puzzle!” exclaimed the little girl. “Let’s find the rest of him, and get him all together.”
“What’s the rest of him like?” asked the Wizard. “Here are some pieces of blue legs and green arms, but I don’t know whether they are his or not.”
“Look for a white shirt and a white apron,” said the head which had been put together, speaking in a rather faint voice. “I’m the cook.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Dorothy. “It’s lucky we started you first, for I’m hungry, and you can be cooking something for us to eat while we match the other folks together.”
It was not so very difficult, now that they had a hint as to how the man was dressed, to find the other pieces belonging to him, and as all of them now worked on the cook, trying piece after piece to see if it would fit, they finally had the cook set up complete.
When he was finished he made them a low bow and said:
“I will go at once to the kitchen to prepare your dinner. You will find it something of a job to get all the Fuddles together, so I advise you to begin on the Lord High Chigglewitz, whose first name is Larry. He’s a bald-headed fat man and is dressed in a blue coat with brass buttons, a pink vest and drab breeches. A piece of his left knee is missing, having been lost years ago when he scattered himself too carelessly. That makes him limp a little, but he gets along very well with half a knee. As he is the chief personage in this town of Fuddlecumjig, he will be able to welcome you and assist you with the others. So it will be best to work on him while I’m getting your dinner.”
“We will,” said the Wizard; “and thank you very much, Cook, for the suggestion.”
Aunt Em was the first to discover a piece of the Lord High Chigglewitz.
“It seems to me like a fool business, this matching folks together,” she remarked; “but as we haven’t anything to do till dinner’s ready, we may as well get rid of some of this rubbish. Here, Henry, get busy and look for Larry’s bald head. I’ve got his pink vest, all right.”
They worked with eager interest, and Billina proved a great help to them. The Yellow Hen had sharp eyes and could put her head close to the various pieces that lay scattered around. She would examine the Lord High Chigglewitz and see which piece of him was next needed, and then hunt around until she found it. So before an hour had passed old Larry was standing complete before them.
“I congratulate you, my friends,” he said, speaking in a cheerful voice. “You are certainly the cleverest people who ever visited us. I was never matched together so quickly in my life. I’m considered a great puzzle, usually.”
“Well,” said Dorothy, “there used to be a picture puzzle craze in Kansas, and so I’ve had some ’sperience matching puzzles. But the pictures were flat, while you are round, and that makes you harder to figure out.”
“Thank you, my dear,” replied old Larry, greatly pleased. “I feel highly complimented. Were I not a really good puzzle there would be no object in my scattering myself.”
“Why do you do it?” asked Aunt Em, severely. “Why don’t you behave yourself, and stay put together?”
The Lord High Chigglewitz seemed annoyed by this speech; but he replied, politely:
“Madam, you have perhaps noticed that every person has some peculiarity. Mine is to scatter myself. What your own peculiarity is I will not venture to say; but I shall never find fault with you, whatever you do.”
“Now you’ve got your diploma, Em,” said Uncle Henry, with a laugh, “and I’m glad of it. This is a queer country, and we may as well take people as we find them.”
“If we did, we’d leave these folks scattered,” she returned, and this retort made everybody laugh good-naturedly.
Just then Omby Amby found a hand with a knitting needle in it, and they decided to put Grandmother Gnit together. She proved an easier puzzle than old Larry, and when she was completed they found her a pleasant old lady who welcomed them cordially. Dorothy told her how the kangaroo had lost her mittens, and Grandmother Gnit promised to set to work at once and make the poor animal another pair.
Then the cook came to call them to dinner, and they found an inviting meal prepared for them. The Lord High Chigglewitz sat at the head of the table and Grandmother Gnit at the foot, and the guests had a merry time and thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
After dinner they went out into the yard and matched several other people together, and this work was so interesting that they might have spent the entire day at Fuddlecumjig had not the Wizard suggested that they resume their journey.
“But I don’t like to leave all these poor people scattered,” said Dorothy, undecided what to do.
“Oh, don’t mind us, my dear,” returned old Larry. “Every day or so some of the Gillikins, or Munchkins, or Winkies come here to amuse themselves by matching us together, so there will be no harm in leaving these pieces where they are for a time. But I hope you will visit us again, and if you do you will always be welcome, I assure you.”
“Don’t you ever match each other?” she inquired.
“Never; for we are no puzzles to ourselves, and so there wouldn’t be any fun in it.”
They now said good-bye to the queer Fuddles and got into their wagon to continue their journey.
“Those are certainly strange people,” remarked Aunt Em, thoughtfully, as they drove away from Fuddlecumjig, “but I really can’t see what use they are, at all.”
“Why, they amused us all for several hours,” replied the Wizard. “That is being of use to us, I’m sure.”
“I think they’re more fun than playing solitaire or mumbletypeg,” declared Uncle Henry, soberly. “For my part, I’m glad we visited the Fuddles.”
Chapter 13
HOW the GENERAL TALKED to the KING
hen General Guph returned to the cavern of the Nome King his Majesty asked:
“Well, what luck? Will the Whimsies join us?”
“They will,” answered the General. “They will fight for us with all their strength and cunning.”
“Good!” exclaimed the King. “What reward did you promise them?”
“Your Majesty is to use the Magic Belt to give each Whimsie a large, fine head, in place of the small one he is now obliged to wear.”
“I agree to that,” said the King. “This is good news, Guph, and it makes me feel more certain of the conquest of Oz.”
“But I have other news for you,” announced the General.
“Good or bad?”
“Good, your Majesty.”
“Then I will hear it,” said the King, with interest.
“The Growleywogs will join us.”
“No!” cried the astonished King.
“Yes, indeed,” said the General. “I have their promise.”
“But what reward do they demand?” inquired the King, suspiciously, for he knew how greedy the Growleywogs were.
“They are to take a few of the Oz people for their slaves,” replied Guph. He did not thin
k it necessary to tell Roquat that the Growleywogs demanded twenty thousand slaves. It would be time enough for that when Oz was conquered.
“A very reasonable request, I’m sure,” remarked the King. “I must congratulate you, Guph, upon the wonderful success of your journey.”
“But that is not all,” said the General, proudly.
The King seemed astonished.
“Speak out, sir!” he commanded.
“I have seen the First and Foremost Phanfasm of the Mountain of Phantastico, and he will bring his people to assist us.”
“What!” cried the King. “The Phanfasms! You don’t mean it, Guph!”
“It is true,” declared the General, proudly.
The King became thoughtful, and his brows wrinkled.
“I’m afraid, Guph,” he said rather anxiously, “that the First and Foremost may prove as dangerous to us as to the Oz people. If he and his terrible band come down from the mountain they may take the notion to conquer the Nomes!”
“Pah! That is a foolish idea,” retorted Guph, irritably, but he knew in his heart that the King was right. “The First and Foremost is a particular friend of mine, and will do us no harm. Why, when I was there, he even invited me into his house.”
The General neglected to tell the King how he had been jerked into the hut of the First and Foremost by means of the brass hoop. So Roquat the Red looked at his General admiringly and said:
“You are a wonderful Nome, Guph. I’m sorry I did not make you my General before. But what reward did the First and Foremost demand?”
“Nothing at all,” answered Guph. “Even the Magic Belt itself could not add to his powers of sorcery. All the Phanfasms wish is to destroy the Oz people, who are good and happy. This pleasure will amply repay them for assisting us.”
“When will they come?” asked Roquat, half fearfully.
“When the tunnel is completed,” said the General.
“We are nearly halfway under the desert now,” announced the King; “and that is fast work, because the tunnel has to be drilled through solid rock. But after we have passed the desert it will not take us long to extend the tunnel to the walls of the Emerald City.”
“Well, whenever you are ready, we shall be joined by the Whimsies, the Growleywogs and the Phanfasms,” said Guph; “so the conquest of Oz is assured without a doubt.”
Again, the King seemed thoughtful.
“I’m almost sorry we did not undertake the conquest alone,” said he. “All of these allies are dangerous people, and they may demand more than you have promised them. It might have been better to have conquered Oz without any outside assistance.”
“We could not do it,” said the General, positively.
“Why not, Guph?”
“You know very well. You have had one experience with the Oz people, and they defeated you.”
“That was because they rolled eggs at us,” replied the King, with a shudder. “My Nomes cannot stand eggs, any more than I can myself. They are poison to all who live underground.”
“That is true enough,” agreed Guph.
“But we might have taken the Oz people by surprise, and conquered them before they had a chance to get any eggs. Our former defeat was due to the fact that the girl Dorothy had a Yellow Hen with her. I do not know what ever became of that hen, but I believe there are no hens at all in the Land of Oz, and so there could be no eggs there.”
“On the contrary,” said Guph, “there are now hundreds of chickens in Oz, and they lay heaps of those dangerous eggs. I met a goshawk on my way home, and the bird informed me that he had lately been to Oz to capture and devour some of the young chickens. But they are protected by magic, so the hawk did not get a single one of them.”
“That is a very bad report,” said the King, nervously. “Very bad, indeed. My Nomes are willing to fight, but they simply can’t face hen’s eggs—and I don’t blame them.”
“They won’t need to face them,” replied Guph. “I’m afraid of eggs myself, and don’t propose to take any chances of being poisoned by them. My plan is to send the Whimsies through the tunnel first, and then the Growleywogs and the Phanfasms. By the time we Nomes get there the eggs will all be used up, and we may then pursue and capture the inhabitants at our leisure.”
“Perhaps you are right,” returned the King, with a dismal sigh. “But I want it distinctly understood that I claim Ozma and Dorothy as my own prisoners. They are rather nice girls, and I do not intend to let any of those dreadful creatures hurt them, or make them their slaves. When I have captured them I will bring them here and transform them into china ornaments to stand on my mantle. They will look very pretty—Dorothy on one end of the mantle and Ozma on the other—and I shall take great care to see they are not broken when the maids dust them.”
“Very well, your Majesty. Do what you will with the girls for all I care. Now that our plans are arranged, and we have the three most powerful bands of evil spirits in the world to assist us, let us make haste to get the tunnel finished as soon as possible.”
“It will be ready in three days,” promised the King, and hurried away to inspect the work and see that the Nomes kept busy.
Chapter 14
HOW the WIZARD PRACTICED SORCERY
here next?” asked the Wizard when they had left the town of Fuddlecumjig and the Sawhorse had started back along the road.
“Why, Ozma laid out this trip,” replied Dorothy, “and she ’vised us to see the Rigmaroles next, and then visit the Tin Woodman.”
“That sounds good,” said the Wizard. “But what road do we take to get to the Rigmaroles?”
“I don’t know, ’zactly,” returned the little girl; “but it must be somewhere just southwest from here.”
“Then why need we go way back to the crossroads?” asked the Shaggy Man. “We might save a lot of time by branching off here.”
“There isn’t any path,” asserted Uncle Henry.
“Then we’d better go back to the signposts, and make sure of our way,” decided Dorothy.
But after they had gone a short distance farther the Sawhorse, who had overheard their conversation, stopped and said:
“Here is a path.”
Sure enough, a dim path seemed to branch off from the road they were on, and it led across pretty green meadows and past leafy groves, straight toward the southwest.
“That looks like a good path,” said Omby Amby. “Why not try it?”
“All right,” answered Dorothy. “I’m anxious to see what the Rigmaroles are like, and this path ought to take us there the quickest way.”
No one made any objection to this plan, so the Sawhorse turned into the path, which proved to be nearly as good as the one they had taken to get to the Fuddles. As first they passed a few retired farm-houses, but soon these scattered dwellings were left behind and only the meadows and the trees were before them. But they rode along in cheerful contentment, and Aunt Em got into an argument with Billina about the proper way to raise chickens.
“I do not care to contradict you,” said the Yellow Hen, with dignity, “but I have an idea I know more about chickens than human beings do.”
“Pshaw!” replied Aunt Em. “I’ve raised chickens for nearly forty years, Billina, and I know you’ve got to starve ’em to make ’em lay lots of eggs, and stuff ’em if you want good broilers.”
“Broilers!” exclaimed Billina, in horror. “Broil my chickens!”
“Why, that’s what they’re for, ain’t it?” asked Aunt Em, astonished.
“No, Aunt, not in Oz,” said Dorothy. “People do not eat chickens here. You see, Billina was the first hen that was ever seen in this country, and I brought her here myself. Everybody liked her an’ respected her, so the Oz people wouldn’t any more eat her chickens than they would eat Billina.”
“Well, I declare,” gasped Aunt Em. “How about the eggs?”
“Oh, if we have more eggs than we want to hatch, we allow people to eat them,” said Billina. “Indeed, I am very
glad the Oz folks like our eggs, for otherwise they would spoil.”
“This certainly is a queer country,” sighed Aunt Em.
“Excuse me,” called the Sawhorse, “the path has ended and I’d like to know which way to go.”
They looked around and, sure enough, there was no path to be seen.
“Well,” said Dorothy, “we’re going southwest, and it seems just as easy to follow that direction without a path as with one.”
“Certainly,” answered the Sawhorse. “It is not hard to draw the wagon over the meadow. I only want to know where to go.”
“There’s a forest over there across the prairie,” said the Wizard, “and it lies in the direction we are going. Make straight for the forest, Sawhorse, and you’re bound to go right.”
So the wooden animal trotted on again and the meadow grass was so soft under the wheels that it made easy riding. But Dorothy was a little uneasy at losing the path, because now there was nothing to guide them.
No houses were to be seen at all, so they could not ask their way of any farmer; and although the Land of Oz was always beautiful, wherever one might go, this part of the country was strange to all the party.
“Perhaps we’re lost,” suggested Aunt Em, after they had proceeded quite a way in silence.
“Never mind,” said the Shaggy Man; “I’ve been lost many a time—and so has Dorothy—and we’ve always been found again.”
“But we may get hungry,” remarked Omby Amby. “That is the worst of getting lost in a place where there are no houses near.”
“We had a good dinner at the Fuddle town,” said Uncle Henry, “and that will keep us from starving to death for a long time.”
“No one ever starved to death in Oz,” declared Dorothy, positively; “but people may get pretty hungry sometimes.”
The Wizard said nothing, and he did not seem especially anxious. The Sawhorse was trotting along briskly, yet the forest seemed farther away than they had thought when they first saw it. So it was nearly sundown when they finally came to the trees; but now they found themselves in a most beautiful spot, the wide-spreading trees being covered with flowering vines and having soft mosses underneath them.
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