Ozma of Oz o-3 Page 8
“Why, he looks just like Santa Claus – only he isn’t the same color!” whispered Dorothy to her friend; but the Nome King heard the speech, and it made him laugh aloud.
“‘He had a red face and a round little belly
That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly!’”
quoth the monarch, in a pleasant voice; and they could all see that he really did shake like jelly when he laughed.
Both Ozma and Dorothy were much relieved to find the Nome King so jolly, and a minute later he waved his right hand and the girls each found a cushioned stool at her side.
“Sit down, my dears,” said the King, “and tell me why you have come all this way to see me, and what I can do to make you happy.”
While they seated themselves the Nome King picked up a pipe, and taking a glowing red coal out of his pocket he placed it in the bowl of the pipe and began puffing out clouds of smoke that curled in rings above his head. Dorothy thought this made the little monarch look more like Santa Claus than ever; but Ozma now began speaking, and every one listened intently to her words.
“Your Majesty,” said she, “I am the ruler of the Land of Oz, and I have come here to ask you to release the good Queen of Ev and her ten children, whom you have enchanted and hold as your prisoners.”
“Oh, no; you are mistaken about that,” replied the King. “They are not my prisoners, but my slaves, whom I purchased from the King of Ev.”
“But that was wrong,” said Ozma.
“According to the laws of Ev, the king can do no wrong,” answered the monarch, eying a ring of smoke he had just blown from his mouth; “so that he had a perfect right to sell his family to me in exchange for a long life.”
“You cheated him, though,” declared Dorothy; “for the King of Ev did not have a long life. He jumped into the sea and was drowned.”
“That was not my fault,” said the Nome King, crossing his legs and smiling contentedly. “I gave him the long life, all right; but he destroyed it.”
“Then how could it be a long life?” asked Dorothy.
“Easily enough,” was the reply. “Now suppose, my dear, that I gave you a pretty doll in exchange for a lock of your hair, and that after you had received the doll you smashed it into pieces and destroyed it. Could you say that I had not given you a pretty doll?”
“No,” answered Dorothy.
“And could you, in fairness, ask me to return to you the lock of hair, just because you had smashed the doll?”
“No,” said Dorothy, again.
“Of course not,” the Nome King returned. “Nor will I give up the Queen and her children because the King of Ev destroyed his long life by jumping into the sea. They belong to me and I shall keep them.”
“But you are treating them cruelly,” said Ozma, who was much distressed by the King’s refusal.
“In what way?” he asked.
“By making them your slaves,” said she.
“Cruelty,” remarked the monarch, puffing out wreathes of smoke and watching them float into the air, “is a thing I can’t abide. So, as slaves must work hard, and the Queen of Ev and her children were delicate and tender, I transformed them all into articles of ornament and bric-a-brac and scattered them around the various rooms of my palace. Instead of being obliged to labor, they merely decorate my apartments, and I really think I have treated them with great kindness.”
“But what a dreadful fate is theirs!” exclaimed Ozma, earnestly. “And the Kingdom of Ev is in great need of its royal family to govern it. If you will liberate them, and restore them to their proper forms, I will give you ten ornaments to replace each one you lose.”
The Nome King looked grave.
“Suppose I refuse?” he asked.
“Then,” said Ozma, firmly, “I am here with my friends and my army to conquer your kingdom and oblige you to obey my wishes.”
The Nome King laughed until he choked; and he choked until he coughed; and he coughed until his face turned from grayish-brown to bright red. And then he wiped his eyes with a rock-colored handkerchief and grew grave again.
“You are as brave as you are pretty, my dear,” he said to Ozma. “But you have little idea of the extent of the task you have undertaken. Come with me for a moment.”
He arose and took Ozma’s hand, leading her to a little door at one side of the room. This he opened and they stepped out upon a balcony, from whence they obtained a wonderful view of the Underground World.
A vast cave extended for miles and miles under the mountain, and in every direction were furnaces and forges glowing brightly and Nomes hammering upon precious metals or polishing gleaming jewels. All around the walls of the cave were thousands of doors of silver and gold, built into the solid rock, and these extended in rows far away into the distance, as far as Ozma’s eyes could follow them.
While the little maid from Oz gazed wonderingly upon this scene the Nome King uttered a shrill whistle, and at once all the silver and gold doors flew open and solid ranks of Nome soldiers marched out from every one. So great were their numbers that they quickly filled the immense underground cavern and forced the busy workmen to abandon their tasks.
Although this tremendous army consisted of rock-colored Nomes, all squat and fat, they were clothed in glittering armor of polished steel, inlaid with beautiful gems. Upon his brow each wore a brilliant electric light, and they bore sharp spears and swords and battle-axes of solid bronze. It was evident they were perfectly trained, for they stood in straight rows, rank after rank, with their weapons held erect and true, as if awaiting but the word of command to level them upon their foes.
“This,” said the Nome King, “is but a small part of my army. No ruler upon Earth has ever dared to fight me, and no ruler ever will, for I am too powerful to oppose.”
He whistled again, and at once the martial array filed through the silver and gold doorways and disappeared, after which the workmen again resumed their labors at the furnaces.
Then, sad and discouraged, Ozma of Oz turned to her friends, and the Nome King calmly reseated himself on his rock throne.
“It would be foolish for us to fight,” the girl said to the Tin Woodman. “For our brave Twenty-Seven would be quickly destroyed. I’m sure I do not know how to act in this emergency.”
“Ask the King where his kitchen is,” suggested the Tiger. “I’m hungry as a bear.”
“I might pounce upon the King and tear him in pieces,” remarked the Cowardly Lion.
“Try it,” said the monarch, lighting his pipe with another hot coal which he took from his pocket.
The Lion crouched low and tried to spring upon the Nome King; but he hopped only a little way into the air and came down again in the same place, not being able to approach the throne by even an inch.
“It seems to me,” said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully, “that our best plan is to wheedle his Majesty into giving up his slaves, since he is too great a magician to oppose.”
“This is the most sensible thing any of you have suggested,” declared the Nome King. “It is folly to threaten me, but I’m so kind-hearted that I cannot stand coaxing or wheedling. If you really wish to accomplish anything by your journey, my dear Ozma, you must coax me.”
“Very well,” said Ozma, more cheerfully. “Let us be friends, and talk this over in a friendly manner.”
“To be sure,” agreed the King, his eyes twinkling merrily.
“I am very anxious,” she continued, “to liberate the Queen of Ev and her children who are now ornaments and bric-a-brac in your Majesty’s palace, and to restore them to their people. Tell me, sir, how this may be accomplished.”
The king remained thoughtful for a moment, after which he asked:
“Are you willing to take a few chances and risks yourself, in order to set free the people of Ev?”
“Yes, indeed!” answered Ozma, eagerly.
“Then,” said the Nome King, “I will make you this offer: You shall go alone and unattended into my palace and
examine carefully all that the rooms contain. Then you shall have permission to touch eleven different objects, pronouncing at the time the word ‘Ev,’ and if any one of them, or more than one, proves to be the transformation of the Queen of Ev or any of her ten children, then they will instantly be restored to their true forms and may leave my palace and my kingdom in your company, without any objection whatever. It is possible for you, in this way, to free the entire eleven; but if you do not guess all the objects correctly, and some of the slaves remain transformed, then each one of your friends and followers may, in turn, enter the palace and have the same privileges I grant you.”
“Oh, thank you! thank you for this kind offer!” said Ozma, eagerly.
“I make but one condition,” added the Nome King, his eyes twinkling.
“What is it?” she enquired.
“If none of the eleven objects you touch proves to be the transformation of any of the royal family of Ev, then, instead of freeing them, you will yourself become enchanted, and transformed into an article of bric-a-brac or an ornament. This is only fair and just, and is the risk you declared you were willing to take.”
12. The Eleven Guesses
Hearing this condition imposed by the Nome King, Ozma became silent and thoughtful, and all her friends looked at her uneasily.
“Don’t you do it!” exclaimed Dorothy. “If you guess wrong, you will be enslaved yourself.”
“But I shall have eleven guesses,” answered Ozma. “Surely I ought to guess one object in eleven correctly; and, if I do, I shall rescue one of the royal family and be safe myself. Then the rest of you may attempt it, and soon we shall free all those who are enslaved.”
“What if we fail?” enquired the Scarecrow. “I’d look nice as a piece of bric-a-brac, wouldn’t I?”
“We must not fail!” cried Ozma, courageously. “Having come all this distance to free these poor people, it would be weak and cowardly in us to abandon the adventure. Therefore I will accept the Nome King’s offer, and go at once into the royal palace.”
“Come along, then, my dear,” said the King, climbing down from his throne with some difficulty, because he was so fat; “I’ll show you the way.”
He approached a wall of the cave and waved his hand. Instantly an opening appeared, through which Ozma, after a smiling farewell to her friends, boldly passed.
She found herself in a splendid hall that was more beautiful and grand than anything she had ever beheld. The ceilings were composed of great arches that rose far above her head, and all the walls and floors were of polished marble exquisitely tinted in many colors. Thick velvet carpets were on the floor and heavy silken draperies covered the arches leading to the various rooms of the palace. The furniture was made of rare old woods richly carved and covered with delicate satins, and the entire palace was lighted by a mysterious rosy glow that seemed to come from no particular place but flooded each apartment with its soft and pleasing radiance.
Ozma passed from one room to another, greatly delighted by all she saw. The lovely palace had no other occupant, for the Nome King had left her at the entrance, which closed behind her, and in all the magnificent rooms there appeared to be no other person.
Upon the mantels, and on many shelves and brackets and tables, were clustered ornaments of every description, seemingly made out of all sorts of metals, glass, china, stones and marbles. There were vases, and figures of men and animals, and graven platters and bowls, and mosaics of precious gems, and many other things. Pictures, too, were on the walls, and the underground palace was quite a museum of rare and curious and costly objects.
After her first hasty examination of the rooms Ozma began to wonder which of all the numerous ornaments they contained were the transformations of the royal family of Ev. There was nothing to guide her, for everything seemed without a spark of life. So she must guess blindly; and for the first time the girl came to realize how dangerous was her task, and how likely she was to lose her own freedom in striving to free others from the bondage of the Nome King. No wonder the cunning monarch laughed good naturedly with his visitors, when he knew how easily they might be entrapped.
But Ozma, having undertaken the venture, would not abandon it. She looked at a silver candelabra that had ten branches, and thought: “This may be the Queen of Ev and her ten children.” So she touched it and uttered aloud the word “Ev,” as the Nome King had instructed her to do when she guessed. But the candelabra remained as it was before.
Then she wandered into another room and touched a china lamb, thinking it might be one of the children she sought. But again she was unsuccessful. Three guesses; four guesses; five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten she made, and still not one of them was right!
The girl shivered a little and grew pale even under the rosy light; for now but one guess remained, and her own fate depended upon the result.
She resolved not to be hasty, and strolled through all the rooms once more, gazing earnestly upon the various ornaments and trying to decide which she would touch. Finally, in despair, she decided to leave it entirely to chance. She faced the doorway of a room, shut her eyes tightly, and then, thrusting aside the heavy draperies, she advanced blindly with her right arm outstretched before her.
Slowly, softly she crept forward until her hand came in contact with an object upon a small round table. She did not know what it was, but in a low voice she pronounced the word “Ev.”
The rooms were quite empty of life after that. The Nome King had gained a new ornament. For upon the edge of the table rested a pretty grasshopper, that seemed to have been formed from a single emerald. It was all that remained of Ozma of Oz.
In the throne room just beyond the palace the Nome King suddenly looked up and smiled.
“Next!” he said, in his pleasant voice.
Dorothy, the Scarecrow, and the Tin Woodman, who had been sitting in anxious silence, each gave a start of dismay and stared into one another’s eyes.
“Has she failed?” asked Tiktok.
“So it seems,” answered the little monarch, cheerfully. “But that is no reason one of you should not succeed. The next may have twelve guesses, instead of eleven, for there are now twelve persons transformed into ornaments. Well, well! Which of you goes next?”
“I’ll go,” said Dorothy.
“Not so,” replied the Tin Woodman. “As commander of Ozma’s army, it is my privilege to follow her and attempt her rescue.”
“Away you go, then,” said the Scarecrow. “But be careful, old friend.”
“I will,” promised the Tin Woodman; and then he followed the Nome King to the entrance to the palace and the rock closed behind him.
13. The Nome King Laughs
In a moment the King returned to his throne and relighted his pipe, and the rest of the little band of adventurers settled themselves for another long wait. They were greatly disheartened by the failure of their girl Ruler, and the knowledge that she was now an ornament in the Nome King’s palace – a dreadful, creepy place in spite of all its magnificence. Without their little leader they did not know what to do next, and each one, down to the trembling private of the army, began to fear he would soon be more ornamental than useful.
Suddenly the Nome King began laughing.
“Ha, ha, ha! He, he, he! Ho, ho, ho!”
“What’s happened?” asked the Scarecrow.
“Why, your friend, the Tin Woodman, has become the funniest thing you can imagine,” replied the King, wiping the tears of merriment from his eyes. “No one would ever believe he could make such an amusing ornament. Next!”
They gazed at each other with sinking hearts. One of the generals began to weep dolefully.
“What are you crying for?” asked the Scarecrow, indignant at such a display of weakness.
“He owed me six weeks back pay,” said the general, “and I hate to lose him.”
“Then you shall go and find him,” declared the Scarecrow.
“Me!” cried the general, greatly alarmed.
“Certainly. It is your duty to follow your commander. March!”
“I won’t,” said the general. “I’d like to, of course; but I just simply WON’T.”
The Scarecrow looked enquiringly at the Nome King.
“Never mind,” said the jolly monarch. “If he doesn’t care to enter the palace and make his guesses I’ll throw him into one of my fiery furnaces.”
“I’ll go! – of course I’m going,” yelled the general, as quick as scat. “Where is the entrance – where is it? Let me go at once!”
So the Nome King escorted him into the palace, and again returned to await the result. What the general did, no one can tell; but it was not long before the King called for the next victim, and a colonel was forced to try his fortune.
Thus, one after another, all of the twenty-six officers filed into the palace and made their guesses – and became ornaments.
Meantime the King ordered refreshments to be served to those waiting, and at his command a rudely shaped Nome entered, bearing a tray. This Nome was not unlike the others that Dorothy had seen, but he wore a heavy gold chain around his neck to show that he was the Chief Steward of the Nome King, and he assumed an air of much importance, and even told his majesty not to eat too much cake late at night, or he would be ill.
Dorothy, however, was hungry, and she was not afraid of being ill; so she ate several cakes and found them good, and also she drank a cup of excellent coffee made of a richly flavored clay, browned in the furnaces and then ground fine, and found it most refreshing and not at all muddy.
Of all the party which had started upon this adventure, the little Kansas girl was now left alone with the Scarecrow, Tiktok, and the private for counsellors and companions. Of course the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger were still there, but they, having also eaten some of the cakes, had gone to sleep at one side of the cave, while upon the other side stood the Sawhorse, motionless and silent, as became a mere thing of wood. Billina had quietly walked around and picked up the crumbs of cake which had been scattered, and now, as it was long after bed-time, she tried to find some dark place in which to go to sleep.