“I’d like to know,” said Dorothy, “who this Nome King is?”
“I will tell you,” replied Ozma. “He is said to be the Ruler of the Underground World, and commands the rocks and all that the rocks contain. Under his rule are many thousands of the Nomes, who are queerly shaped but powerful sprites that labor at the furnaces and forges of their king, making gold and silver and other metals which they conceal in the crevices of the rocks, so that those living upon the earth’s surface can only find them with great difficulty. Also they make diamonds and rubies and emeralds, which they hide in the ground; so that the kingdom of the Nomes is wonderfully rich, and all we have of precious stones and silver and gold is what we take from the earth and rocks where the Nome King has hidden them.”
“I understand,” said Dorothy, nodding her little head wisely.
“For the reason that we often steal his treasures,” continued Ozma, “the Ruler of the Underground World is not fond of those who live upon the earth’s surface, and never appears among us. If we wish to see King Roquat of the Rocks, we must visit his own country, where he is all powerful, and therefore it will be a dangerous undertaking.”
“But, for the sake of the poor prisoners,” said Dorothy, “we ought to do it.”
“We shall do it,” replied the Scarecrow, “although it requires a lot of courage for me to go near to the furnaces of the Nome King. For I am only stuffed with straw, and a single spark of fire might destroy me entirely.”
“The furnaces may also melt my tin,” said the Tin Woodman; “but I am going.”
“I can’t bear heat,” remarked the Princess Langwidere, yawning lazily, “so I shall stay at home. But I wish you may have success in your undertaking, for I am heartily tired of ruling this stupid kingdom, and I need more leisure in which to admire my beautiful heads.”
“We do not need you,” said Ozma. “For, if with the aid of my brave followers I cannot accomplish my purpose, then it would be useless for you to undertake the journey.”
“Quite true,” sighed the Princess. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I will now retire to my cabinet. I’ve worn this head quite awhile, and I want to change it for another.”
When she had left them (and you may be sure no one was sorry to see her go) Ozma said to Tiktok:
“Will you join our party?”
“I am the slave of the girl Dor-oth-y, who rescued me from pris-on,” replied the machine. “Where she goes I will go.”
“Oh, I am going with my friends, of course,” said Dorothy, quickly. “I wouldn’t miss the fun for anything. Will you go, too, Billina?”
“To be sure,” said Billina in a careless tone. She was smoothing down the feathers of her back and not paying much attention.
“Heat is just in her line,” remarked the Scarecrow. “If she is nicely roasted, she will be better than ever.”
“Then” said Ozma, “we will arrange to start for the Kingdom of the Nomes at daybreak tomorrow. And, in the meantime, we will rest and prepare ourselves for the journey.”
Although Princess Langwidere did not again appear to her guests, the palace servants waited upon the strangers from Oz and did everything in their power to make the party comfortable. There were many vacant rooms at their disposal, and the brave Army of twenty-seven was easily provided for and liberally feasted.
The Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger were unharnessed from the chariot and allowed to roam at will throughout the palace, where they nearly frightened the servants into fits, although they did no harm at all. At one time Dorothy found the little maid Nanda crouching in terror in a corner, with the Hungry Tiger standing before her.
“You certainly look delicious,” the beast was saying. “Will you kindly give me permission to eat you?”
“No, no, no!” cried the maid in reply.
“Then,” said the Tiger, yawning frightfully, “please to get me about thirty pounds of tenderloin steak, cooked rare, with a peck of boiled potatoes on the side, and five gallons of ice-cream for dessert.”
“I—I’ll do the best I can!” said Nanda, and she ran away as fast as she could go.
“Are you so very hungry?” asked Dorothy, in wonder.
“You can hardly imagine the size of my appetite,” replied the Tiger, sadly. “It seems to fill my whole body, from the end of my throat to the tip of my tail. I am very sure the appetite doesn’t fit me, and is too large for the size of my body. Some day, when I meet a dentist with a pair of forceps, I’m going to have it pulled.”
“What, your tooth?” asked Dorothy.
“No, my appetite,” said the Hungry Tiger.
The little girl spent most of the afternoon talking with the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, who related to her all that had taken place in the Land of Oz since Dorothy had left it. She was much interested in the story of Ozma, who had been, when a baby, stolen by a wicked old witch and transformed into a boy. She did not know that she had ever been a girl until she was restored to her natural form by a kind sorceress. Then it was found that she was the only child of the former Ruler of Oz, and was entitled to rule in his place. Ozma had many adventures, however, before she regained her father’s throne, and in these she was accompanied by a pumpkinheaded man, a highly magnified and thoroughly educated WoggleBug, and a wonderful sawhorse that had been brought to life by means of a magic powder. The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman had also assisted her; but the Cowardly Lion, who ruled the great forest as the King of Beasts, knew nothing of Ozma until after she became the reigning princess of Oz. Then he journeyed to the Emerald City to see her, and on hearing she was about to visit the Land of Ev to set free the royal family of that country, the Cowardly Lion begged to go with her, and brought along his friend, the Hungry Tiger, as well.
Having heard this story, Dorothy related to them her own adventures, and then went out with her friends to find the Sawhorse, which Ozma had caused to be shod with plates of gold, so that its legs would not wear out.
They came upon the Sawhorse standing motionless beside the garden gate, but when Dorothy was introduced to him he bowed politely and blinked his eyes, which were knots of wood, and wagged his tail, which was only the branch of a tree.
“What a remarkable thing, to be alive!” exclaimed Dorothy.
“I quite agree with you,” replied the Sawhorse, in a rough but not unpleasant voice. “A creature like me has no business to live, as we all know. But it was the magic powder that did it, so I cannot justly be blamed.”
“Of course not,” said Dorothy. “And you seem to be of some use, ‘cause I noticed the Scarecrow riding upon your back.”
“Oh, yes; I’m of use,” returned the Sawhorse; “and I never tire, never have to be fed, or cared for in any way.”
“Are you intel’gent?” asked the girl.
“Not very,” said the creature. “It would be foolish to waste intelligence on a common Sawhorse, when so many professors need it. But I know enough to obey my masters, and to gid-dup, or whoa, when I’m told to. So I’m pretty well satisfied.”
That night Dorothy slept in a pleasant little bedchamber next to that occupied by Ozma of Oz, and Billina perched upon the foot of the bed and tucked her head under her wing and slept as soundly in that position as did Dorothy upon her soft cushions.
But before daybreak every one was awake and stirring, and soon the adventurers were eating a hasty breakfast in the great dining-room of the palace. Ozma sat at the head of a long table, on a raised platform, with Dorothy on her right hand and the Scarecrow on her left. The Scarecrow did not eat, of course; but