They were all startled to hear this, and every face wore a troubled look.
“Is the tunnel all ready?” asked Dorothy.
“Ozma sent me word yesterday that the tunnel was all completed except for a thin crust of earth at the end. When our enemies break through this crust, they will be in the gardens of the royal palace, in the heart of the Emerald City. I offered to arm all my Winkies and march to Ozma’s assistance; but she said no.”
“I wonder why?” asked Dorothy.
“She answered that all the inhabitants of Oz, gathered together, were not powerful enough to fight and overcome the evil forces of the Nome King. Therefore she refuses to fight at all.”
“But they will capture and enslave us, and plunder and ruin all our lovely land!” exclaimed the Wizard, greatly disturbed by this statement.
“I fear they will,” said the Tin Woodman, sorrowfully. “And I also fear that those who are not fairies, such as the Wizard, and Dorothy, and her uncle and aunt, as well as Toto and Billina, will be speedily put to death by the conquerors.”
“What can be done?” asked Dorothy, shuddering a little at the prospect of this awful fate.
“Nothing can be done!” gloomily replied the Emperor of the Winkies. “But since Ozma refuses my army I will go myself to the Emerald City. The least I may do is to perish beside my beloved Ruler.”
Chapter 25
HOW the SCARECROW DISPLAYED HIS WISDOM
his amazing news had saddened every heart and all were now anxious to return to the Emerald City and share Ozma’s fate. So they started without loss of time, and as the road led past the Scarecrow’s new mansion they determined to make a brief halt there and confer with him.
“The Scarecrow is probably the wisest man in all Oz,” remarked the Tin Woodman, when they had started upon their journey. “His brains are plentiful and of excellent quality, and often he has told me things I might never have thought of myself. I must say I rely a great deal upon the Scarecrow’s brains in this emergency.”
The Tin Woodman rode on the front seat of the wagon, where Dorothy sat between him and the Wizard.
“Has the Scarecrow heard of Ozma’s trouble?” asked the Captain General.
“I do not know, sir,” was the reply.
“When I was a private,” said Omby Amby, “I was an excellent army, as I fully proved in our war against the Nomes. But now there is not a single private left in our army, since Ozma made me the Captain General, so there is no one to fight and defend our lovely Ruler.”
“True,” said the Wizard. “The present army is composed only of officers, and the business of an officer is to order his men to fight. Since there are no men there can be no fighting.”
“Poor Ozma!” whispered Dorothy, with tears in her sweet eyes. “It’s dreadful to think of all her lovely fairy country being destroyed. I wonder if we couldn’t manage to escape and get back to Kansas by means of the Magic Belt? And we might take Ozma with us and all work hard to get money for her, so she wouldn’t be so very lonely and unhappy about the loss of her fairyland.”
“Do you think there would be any work for me in Kansas?” asked the Tin Woodman.
“If you are hollow, they might use you in a canning factory,” suggested Uncle Henry. “But I can’t see the use of your working for a living. You never eat or sleep or need a new suit of clothes.”
“I was not thinking of myself,” replied the Emperor, with dignity. “I merely wondered if I could not help to support Dorothy and Ozma.”
As they indulged in these sad plans for the future they journeyed in sight of the Scarecrow’s new mansion, and even though filled with care and worry over the impending fate of Oz, Dorothy couldn’t help a feeling of wonder at the sight she saw.
The Scarecrow’s new house was shaped like an immense ear of corn. The rows of kernels were made of solid gold, and the green upon which the ear stood upright was a mass of sparkling emeralds. Upon the very top of the structure was perched a figure representing the Scarecrow himself, and upon his extended arms, as well as upon his head, were several crows carved out of ebony and having ruby eyes. You may imagine how big this ear of corn was when I tell you that a single gold kernel formed a window, swinging outward upon hinges, while a row of four kernels opened to make the front entrance. Inside there were five stories, each story being a single room.
The gardens around the mansion consisted of cornfields, and Dorothy acknowledged that the place was in all respects a very appropriate home for her good friend the Scarecrow.
“He would have been very happy here, I’m sure,” she said, “if only the Nome King had left us alone. But if Oz is destroyed of course this place will be destroyed too.”
“Yes,” replied the Tin Woodman, “and also my beautiful tin castle, that has been my joy and pride.”
“Jack Pumpkinhead’s house will go too,” remarked the Wizard, “as well as Professor Woggle-Bug’s Athletic College, and Ozma’s royal palace, and all our other handsome buildings.”
“Yes, Oz will indeed become a desert when the Nome King gets through with it,” sighed Omby Amby.
The Scarecrow came out to meet them and gave them all a hearty welcome.
“I hear you have decided always to live in the Land of Oz, after this,” he said to Dorothy; “and that will delight my heart, for I have greatly disliked our frequent partings. But why are you all so downcast?”
“Have you heard the news?” asked the Tin Woodman.
“No news to make me sad,” replied the Scarecrow.
Then Nick Chopper told his friend of the Nome King’s tunnel, and how the evil creatures of the North had allied themselves with the underground monarch for the purpose of conquering and destroying Oz. “Well,” said the Scarecrow, “it certainly looks bad for Ozma, and all of us. But I believe it is wrong to worry over anything before it happens. It is surely time enough to be sad when our country is despoiled and our people made slaves. So let us not deprive ourselves of the few happy hours remaining to us.”
“Ah! that is real wisdom,” declared the Shaggy Man, approvingly. “After we become really unhappy we shall regret these few hours that are left to us, unless we enjoy them to the utmost.”
“Nevertheless,” said the Scarecrow, “I shall go with you to the Emerald City and offer Ozma my services.”
“She says we can do nothing to oppose our enemies,” announced the Tin Woodman.
“And doubtless she is right, sir,” answered the Scarecrow. “Still, she will appreciate our sympathy, and it is the duty of Ozma’s friends to stand by her side when the final disaster occurs.”
He then led them into his queer mansion and showed them the beautiful rooms in all the five stories. The lower room was a grand reception hall, with a hand-organ in one corner. This instrument the Scarecrow, when alone, could turn to amuse himself, as he was very fond of music. The walls were hung with white silk, upon which flocks of black crows were embroidered in black diamonds. Some of the chairs were made in the shape of big crows and upholstered with cushions of corn-colored silk.
The second story contained a fine banquet room, where the Scarecrow might entertain his guests, and the three stories above that were bed-chambers exquisitely furnished and decorated.
“From these rooms,” said the Scarecrow, proudly, “one may obtain fine views of the surrounding cornfields. The corn I grow is always husky, and I call the ears my regiments, because they have so many kernels. Of course I cannot ride my cobs, but I really don’t care shucks about that. Taken altogether, my farm will stack up with any in the neighborhood.”
The visitors partook of some light refreshment and then hurried away to resume the road to the Emerald City. The Scarecrow found a seat in the wagon between Omby Amby and the Shaggy Man, and his weight did not add much to the load because he was stuffed with straw.
“You will notice I have one oat-field on my property,” he remarked, as they drove away. “Oat-straw is, I have found, the best of all straws to re-stuff myself
with when my interior gets musty or out of shape.”
“Are you able to re-stuff yourself without help?” asked Aunt Em. “I should think that after the straw was taken out of you there wouldn’t be anything left but your clothes.”
“You are almost correct, madam,” he answered. “My servants do the stuffing, under my direction. For my head, in which are my excellent brains, is a bag tied at the bottom. My face is neatly painted upon one side of the bag, as you may see. My head does not need re-stuffing, as my body does, for all that it requires is to have the face touched up with fresh paint occasionally.”
It was not far from the Scarecrow’s mansion to the farm of Jack Pumpkinhead, and when they arrived there both Uncle Henry and Aunt Em were much impressed. The farm was one vast pumpkin field, and some of the pumpkins were of enormous size. In one of them, which had been neatly hollowed out, Jack himself lived, and he declared that it was a very comfortable residence. The reason he grew so many pumpkins was in order that he might change his head as often as it became wrinkled or threatened to spoil.
The pumpkin-headed man welcomed his visitors joyfully and offered them several delicious pumpkin pies to eat.
“I don’t indulge in pumpkin pies myself, for two reasons,” he said. “One reason is that were I to eat pumpkins I would become a cannibal, and the other reason is that I never eat, not being hollow inside.”
“Very good reasons,” agreed the Scarecrow.
They told Jack Pumpkinhead of the dreadful news about the Nome King, and he decided to go with them to the Emerald City and help comfort Ozma.
“I had expected to live here in ease and comfort for many centuries,” said Jack, dolefully; “but of course if the Nome King destroys everything in Oz I shall be destroyed too. Really, it seems too bad, doesn’t it?”
They were soon on their journey again, and so swiftly did the Sawhorse draw the wagon over the smooth roads that before twilight fell they had reached the royal palace in the Emerald City, and were at their journey’s end.
Chapter 26
HOW OZMA REFUSED to FIGHT for HER KINGDOM
zma was in her rose garden picking a bouquet when the party arrived, and she greeted all her old and new friends as smilingly and sweetly as ever.
Dorothy’s eyes were full of tears as she kissed the lovely Ruler of Oz, and she whispered to her:
“Oh, Ozma, Ozma! I’m so sorry!”
Ozma seemed surprised.
“Sorry for what, Dorothy?” she asked.
“For all your trouble about the Nome King,” was the reply.
Ozma laughed with genuine amusement.
“Why, that has not troubled me a bit, dear Princess,” she replied. Then, looking around at the sad faces of her friends, she added: “Have you all been worrying about this tunnel?”
“We have!” they exclaimed in a chorus.
“Well, perhaps it is more serious than I imagined,” admitted the fair Ruler; “but I haven’t given the matter much thought. After dinner we will all meet together and talk it over.”
So they went to their rooms and prepared for dinner, and Dorothy dressed herself in her prettiest gown and put on her coronet, for she thought that this might be the last time she would ever appear as a Princess of Oz.
The Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and Jack Pumpkinhead all sat at the dinner table, although none of them was made so he could eat. Usually they served to enliven the meal with their merry talk, but to-night all seemed strangely silent and uneasy.
As soon as the dinner was finished Ozma led the company to her own private room in which hung the Magic Picture. When they had seated themselves the Scarecrow was the first to speak.
“Is the Nome King’s tunnel finished, Ozma?” he asked.
“It was completed to-day,” she replied. “They have built it right under my palace grounds, and it ends in front of the Forbidden Fountain. Nothing but a crust of earth remains to separate our enemies from us, and when they march here they will easily break through this crust and rush upon us.”
“Who will assist the Nome King?” inquired the Scarecrow.
“The Whimsies, the Growleywogs and the Phanfasms,” she replied. “I watched to-day in my Magic Picture the messengers whom the Nome King sent to all these people to summon them to assemble in his great caverns.”
“Let us see what they are doing now,” suggested the Tin Woodman.
So Ozma wished to see the Nome King’s cavern, and at once the landscape faded from the Magic Picture and was replaced by the scene then being enacted in the jeweled cavern of King Roquat.
A wild and startling scene it was which the Oz people beheld.
Before the Nome King stood the Chief of the Whimsies and the Grand Gallipoot of the Growleywogs, surrounded by their most skillful generals. Very fierce and powerful they looked, so that even the Nome King and General Guph, who stood beside his master, seemed a bit fearful in the presence of their allies.
Now a still more formidable creature entered the cavern. It was the First and Foremost of the Phanfasms and he proudly sat down in King Roquat’s own throne and demanded the right to lead his forces through the tunnel in advance of all the others. The First and Foremost now appeared to all eyes in his hairy skin and the bear’s head. What his real form was even Roquat did not know.
Through the arches leading into the vast series of caverns that lay beyond the throne room of King Roquat could be seen ranks upon ranks of the invaders—thousands of Phanfasms, Growleywogs and Whimsies standing in serried lines, while behind them were massed the thousands upon thousands of General Guph’s own army of Nomes.
“Listen!” whispered Ozma. “I think we can hear what they are saying.”
So they kept still and listened.
“Is all ready?” demanded the First and Foremost, haughtily.
“The tunnel is finally completed,” replied General Guph.
“How long will it take us to march to the Emerald City?” asked the Grand Gallipoot of the Growleywogs.
“If we start at midnight,” replied the Nome King, “we shall arrive at the Emerald City by daybreak. Then, while all the Oz people are sleeping, we will capture them and make them our slaves. After that we will destroy the city itself and march through the Land of Oz, burning and devastating as we go.”
“Good!” cried the First and Foremost. “When we get through with Oz it will be a desert wilderness. Ozma shall be my slave.”
“She shall be my slave!” shouted the Grand Gallipoot, angrily.
“We’ll decide that by and by,” said King Roquat hastily. “Don’t let us quarrel now, friends. First let us conquer Oz, and then we will divide the spoils of war in a satisfactory manner.”
The First and Foremost smiled wickedly; but he only said:
“I and my Phanfasms go first, for nothing on earth can oppose our power.”
They all agreed to that, knowing the Phanfasms to be the mightiest of the combined forces. King Roquat now invited them to attend a banquet he had prepared, where they might occupy themselves in eating and drinking until midnight arrived.
As they had now seen and heard all of the plot against them that they cared to, Ozma allowed her Magic Picture to fade away. Then she turned to her friends and said:
“Our enemies will be here sooner than I expected. What do you advise me to do?”
“It is now too late to assemble our people,” said the Tin Woodman, despondently. “If you had allowed me to arm and drill my Winkies we might have put up a good fight and destroyed many of our enemies before we were conquered.”
“The Munchkins are good fighters, too,” said Omby Amby; “and so are the Gillikins.”
“But I do not wish to fight,” declared Ozma, firmly. “No one has the right to destroy any living creatures, however evil they may be, or to hurt them or make them unhappy. I will not fight—even to save my kingdom.”
“The Nome King is not so particular,” remarked the Scarecrow. “He intends to destroy us all and ruin our beautiful countr
y.”
“Because the Nome King intends to do evil is no excuse for my doing the same,” replied Ozma.
“Self-preservation is the first law of nature,” quoted the Shaggy Man.
“True,” she said, readily. “I would like to discover a plan to save ourselves without fighting.”
That seemed a hopeless task to them, but realizing that Ozma was determined not to fight, they tried to think of some means that might promise escape.
“Couldn’t we bribe our enemies, by giving them a lot of emeralds and gold?” asked Jack Pumpkinhead.
“No, because they believe they are able to take everything we have,” replied the Ruler.
“I have thought of something,” said Dorothy.
“What is it, dear?” asked Ozma.
“Let us use the Magic Belt to wish all of us in Kansas. We will put some emeralds in our pockets, and can sell them in Topeka for enough to pay off the mortgage on Uncle Henry’s farm. Then we can all live together and be happy.”
“A clever idea!” exclaimed the Scarecrow.
“Kansas is a very good country. I’ve been there,” said the Shaggy Man.
“That seems to me an excellent plan,” approved the Tin Woodman.
“No!” said Ozma, decidedly. “Never will I desert my people and leave them to so cruel a fate. I will use the Magic Belt to send the rest of you to Kansas, if you wish, but if my beloved country must be destroyed and my people enslaved I will remain and share their fate.”
“Quite right,” asserted the Scarecrow, sighing. “I will remain with you.”
“And so will I,” declared the Tin Woodman and the Shaggy Man and Jack Pumpkinhead, in turn. Tiktok, the machine man, also said he intended to stand by Ozma. “For,” said he, “I should be of no use at all in Kansas.”
“For my part,” announced Dorothy, gravely, “if the Ruler of Oz must not desert her people, a Princess of Oz has no right to run away, either. I’m willing to become a slave with the rest of you; so all we can do with the Magic Belt is to use it to send Uncle Henry and Aunt Em back to Kansas.”
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