One key unlocked all the velvet cupboards containing these treasures—a curious key carved from a single blood-red ruby—and this was fastened to a strong but slender chain which the Princess wore around her left wrist.
When Nanda had supported Langwidere to a position in front of cupboard No. 17, the Princess unlocked the door with her ruby key and after handing head No. 9, which she had been wearing, to the maid, she took No. 17 from its shelf and fitted it to her neck. It had black hair and dark eyes and a lovely pearl-and-white complexion, and when Langwidere wore it she knew she was remarkably beautiful in appearance.
There was only one trouble with No. 17; the temper that went with it (and which was hidden somewhere under the glossy black hair) was fiery, harsh and haughty in the extreme, and it often led the Princess to do unpleasant things which she regretted when she came to wear her other heads.
But she did not remember this today, and went to meet her guests in the drawing-room with a feeling of certainty that she would surprise them with her beauty.
However, she was greatly disappointed to find that her visitors were merely a small girl in a gingham dress, a copper man that would only go when wound up, and a yellow hen that was sitting contentedly in Langwidere’s best work-basket, where there was a china egg used for darning stockings. (It may surprise you to learn that a princess ever does such a common thing as darn stockings. But, if you will stop to think, you will realize that a princess is sure to wear holes in her stockings, the same as other people; only it isn’t considered quite polite to mention the matter.)
“Oh!” said Langwidere, slightly lifting the nose of No. 17. “I thought some one of importance had called.”
“Then you were right,” declared Dorothy. “I’m a good deal of ‘portance myself, and when Billina lays an egg she has the proudest cackle you ever heard. As for Tiktok, he’s the—”
“Stop—Stop!” commanded the Princess, with an angry flash of her splendid eyes. “How dare you annoy me with your senseless chatter?”
“Why, you horrid thing!” said Dorothy, who was not accustomed to being treated so rudely.
The Princess looked at her more closely.
“Tell me,” she resumed, “are you of royal blood?”
“Better than that, ma’am,” said Dorothy. “I came from Kansas.”
“Huh!” cried the Princess, scornfully. “You are a foolish child, and I cannot allow you to annoy me. Run away, you little goose, and bother some one else.”
Dorothy was so indignant that for a moment she could find no words to reply. But she rose from her chair, and was about to leave the room when the Princess, who had been scanning the girl’s face, stopped her by saying, more gently:
“Come nearer to me.”
Dorothy obeyed, without a thought of fear, and stood before the Princess while Langwidere examined her face with careful attention.
“You are rather attractive,” said the lady, presently. “Not at all beautiful, you understand, but you have a certain style of prettiness that is different from that of any of my thirty heads. So I believe I’ll take your head and give you No. 26 for it.”
“Well, I b’lieve you won’t!” exclaimed Dorothy.
“It will do you no good to refuse,” continued the Princess; “for I need your head for my collection, and in the Land of Ev my will is law. I never have cared much for No. 26, and you will find that it is very little worn. Besides, it will do you just as well as the one you’re wearing, for all practical purposes.”
“I don’t know anything about your No. 26, and I don’t want to,” said Dorothy, firmly. “I’m not used to taking cast-off things, so I’ll just keep my own head.”
“You refuse?” cried the Princess, with a frown.
“Of course I do,” was the reply.
“Then,” said Langwidere, “I shall lock you up in a tower until you decide to obey me. Nanda,” turning to her maid, “call my army.”
Nanda rang a silver bell, and at once a big fat colonel in a bright red uniform entered the room, followed by ten lean soldiers, who all looked sad and discouraged and saluted the princess in a very melancholy fashion.
“Carry that girl to the North Tower and lock her up!” cried the Princess, pointing to Dorothy.
“To hear is to obey,” answered the big red colonel, and caught the child by her arm. But at that moment Tiktok raised his dinner-pail and pounded it so forcibly against the colonel’s head that the big officer sat down upon the floor with a sudden bump, looking both dazed and very much astonished.
“Help!” he shouted, and the ten lean soldiers sprang to assist their leader.
There was great excitement for the next few moments, and Tiktok had knocked down seven of the army, who were sprawling in every direction upon the carpet, when suddenly the machine paused, with the dinner-pail raised for another blow, and remained perfectly motionless.
“My ac-tion has run down,” he called to Dorothy. “Wind me up, quick.”
She tried to obey, but the big colonel had by this time managed to get upon his feet again, so he grabbed fast hold of the girl and she was helpless to escape.
“This is too bad,” said the machine. “I ought to have run six hours lon-ger, at least, but I sup-pose my long walk and my fight with the Wheel-ers made me run down fast-er than us-u-al.”
“Well, it can’t be helped,” said Dorothy, with a sigh.
“Will you exchange heads with me?” demanded the Princess.
“No, indeed!” cried Dorothy.
“Then lock her up,” said Langwidere to her soldiers, and they led Dorothy to a high tower at the north of the palace and locked her securely within.
The soldiers afterward tried to lift Tiktok, but they found the machine so solid and heavy that they could not stir it. So they left him standing in the center of the drawing-room.
“People will think I have a new statue,” said Langwidere, “so it won’t matter in the least, and Nanda can keep him well polished.”
“What shall we do with the hen?” asked the colonel, who had just discovered Billina in the work-basket.
“Put her in the chicken-house,” answered the Princess. “Someday I’ll have her fried for breakfast.”
“She looks rather tough, Your Highness,” said Nanda, doubtfully.
“That is a base slander!” cried Billina, struggling frantically in the colonel’s arms. “But the breed of chickens I come from is said to be poison to all princesses.”
“Then,” remarked Langwidere, “I will not fry the hen, but keep her to lay eggs; and if she doesn’t do her duty I’ll have her drowned in the horse trough.”
7. Ozma of Oz to the Rescue
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?”
The Classic Children's Literature Collection: 39 Classic Novels Page 145