  Handy, who had climbed up and down mountains all her life, reached the top of the gorge first and with her various hands tugged Nox up the last steep incline. "So—this is the Gillikin Country!" panted the Goat Girl, staring away over the heather covered Highlands. "Now about the natives, do they spin, bounce or tumble?" "That, I really couldn't say," gasped Nox, leaning against a tree to regain his wind, "but as you can see, my girl, all the hills, trees and vegetation shade from violet to purple. Lovely color, purple!" "I suppose purple would appeal to a Royal Ox like you." Resting her hands on her hips, Handy Mandy squinted critically about her. "Now as for me, I prefer the more cheerful colors, red, yellow or green, for instance." "Then you'd like the Quadling and Winkie Countries," murmured Nox, nibbling languidly at the tops of the heather, "or the Emerald City. We have all color countries in Oz and a body can take his choice." "Oh, we'll just take them as they come," decided the Goat Girl sensibly, "or at least, till we find your young Master and this Silver Mountain. But tell me, Nox, is each country in Oz a different color and is there really an Emerald City?" Moving slowly through the heather the Royal Ox nodded his lordly head. "Take that stick," he directed, coming to a ponderous stop, "and I'll show you how Oz looks. See, on that level bit of sand there, just draw an oblong." Quite interested, Handy marked out an oblong with the point of the stick. "Connect the corners," breathed the Ox, lifting his forefoot complacently, "and what have you?" "Four triangles," answered the Goat Girl promptly. "Put a circle in the center where all the triangles meet." Nox fairly radiated pride and importance as his geozophy lesson progressed. "Then what?" demanded Handy, the stick upraised in her rubber hand. "That's all!" Tossing back his horns, the Ox surveyed his pupil triumphantly. "Simple, isn't it? That triangle on the west is the blue Munchkin Country we have just left, the triangle to the north is the purple Gillikin Country we are just entering. Over there on the east, we have the Yellow empire of the Winkies and to the south the red lands of the Quadlings. In the circle is the Emerald City of Oz, and surrounding the whole Kingdom is a deadly desert of burning sand." "My—y!" marveled the Goat Girl, clasping all her hands but one behind her back, "the desert I crossed when I fell in Keretaria?" "Of course," answered Nox, snapping lazily at a purple dragon fly. "Mt. Mern must lie to the west of Oz, on the other side of the deadly desert. There are many countries beyond the desert, but I know very little about them as there are only Oz maps in the castle at home." "Then I suppose the King of Keretaria is King of the Munchkins?" said Handy, looking thoughtfully down at her map. "Oh, my, no!" The Royal Ox positively chuckled at such an idea. "Keretaria is just one of the small countries of the West. Cheeriobed is King of the Munchkins and he lives in the Sapphire City seventy leagues below our southernmost borderline. Glinda, the Good Sorceress, rules all the small Kingdoms in the Quadling Country, the Tin Woodman of Oz is Emperor of the Winkies and Jo King governs the Gillikins. Besides these, there are Kings, Queens and Princes galore, but most important of all is Ozma, the young Fairy who lives in the Emerald City, for Ozma is supreme sovereign of the entire Kingdom of Oz." "Dear—ear what a lot to remember," groaned the Goat Girl. "And all these other Kings and Queens have to do what Ozma says? However does she keep track of them all? I'll bet they're worse than a flock of goats." "Oh, she manages," said the Ox, beginning to move slowly forward. "Being a fairy and having a wizard right in her own castle, Ozma knows what is going on without even turning her head." "Even where we are going?" exclaimed Handy Mandy indignantly. "Hi—yi—what a little busy-body. I just know I won't like her." "Well, in that case she will just have to give up her throne and throw her crown out of the window, I suppose! Better have a care, m'lass, you're speaking of a powerful fairy, you know." Nox looked so stern as he went plowing through the heather, Handy began to feel a little uneasy herself. "But how could a fairy in the center of Oz see way off here?" she demanded scornfully. "Magic, that's how!" explained Nox, looking very calm and superior. "In her castle Ozma has a magic picture that shows her everything she wishes to see." "I don't believe it," scoffed the Goat Girl, swinging all her arms recklessly, "and besides, why would she wish to see us and this particular piece of country at this particular minute?" "I'm sure I don't know," said the Royal Ox haughtily. "But I do say, be careful. There, what did I tell you!" Framed in the woodwork of a small summer-house they were approaching was a large poster. "You are now in the Land of Oz," stated the poster, pleasantly enough. "Be good to us and we'll be good to you. Keep our laws and practice no magic, either for good or evil. By order of Her Imperial Highness, Queen Ozma of Oz." Below was the bright green seal of Oz and a picture of its pretty dark haired ruler. "Why she's nothing but a little girl!" cried Handy, positively aghast at such a state of affairs. "How could a little mite like that rule a whole country and be so bossy?" "Oh, hush!" begged Nox, rolling his eyes anxiously. "Mite or not, Ozma is a mighty powerful and important fairy." "Well, we're pretty important ourselves," sniffed the Goat Girl, squinting at the poster with all her arms akimbo. "And besides," Handy lifted her chin defiantly, "we've broken the law already when we used your gold horn of plenty. 'Practice no magic.' Hoh! What does she expect us to do with good magic right at hand—starve? But, ho ho! We can get around that, old Toggins. After all, we are not practicing magic, we don't have to practice it—our magic is perfect, so put that in your pipe and smoke it Miss Ozma to Bozma." Snatching up a rock in each of her seven hands, Handy flung them hilariously over a clump of prune trees. (Yes, prunes already wrinkled grow in the Land of Oz.) There was an uncomfortable little silence after Handy's rash outburst, then a perfect tempest of shrieks and screeches. "Now, see what you've done," gulped the Ox, switching his tail nervously. "Quick, quick, jump on my back and we'll rush by. These chaps look dangerous." "Why, they have HOOK noses!" sputtered Handy, too startled to move, as a band of kilted Highlanders came racing down toward them. The noses of these singular Hill-men were long and thin, curving out and up far above their foreheads. On these hooks hung dangerous looking rings almost as large as barrel hoops. While Handy was wondering what they could be for, the nearest Hooker pulled a ring from his nose and flung it with all his might at her head. "Up. UP!" bellowed Nox, pawing the ground in his agitation. "Are you going to stand there till you are pegged like a top?" The iron ring missed Handy by mere inches and grasping Nox's horn she pulled herself to his back. There were about sixty of the hook noses, and swinging to the left, Nox tried to skirt the war-like tribe, but they were too quick for him, and spreading out in a long line they began hurling their wicked whizzing weapons. One caught neatly on the horn of the Royal Ox, another hit Handy a horrid blow on the knee, and as Nox, snorting and furious turned to run, a dozen more came whanging down about their ears. Dodging left and right, Handy Mandy leaned forward and began to unscrew Nox's right horn. "'Be good to us and we'll be good to you!' HOH! Like fun you will!" muttered the Goat Girl, catching six of the flying missiles in her clever hands and tossing them back with all her might. "Take that and these and them and THOSE!" Pulling off the Ox's horn with the only hand she had left, she added desperately, "I wish a barrel of molasses over the head of each Hook Nose in this band. Cats, Bats and Billy Goats! They've GOT me!" And they had, too, for just as Handy finished her wish, down flashed an iron ring pinioning her arms tightly to her sides. Still grasping the precious horn, Handy dug her heels into Nox. "Hurt?" grunted the Ox, leaping forward. "Not hurt, just hooked and humiliated, can't move a muscle," raged the Goat Girl. "But ha ha! Neither can they! LOOK!" Nox, who had been bellowing too hard to hear Handy's wish or miss his horn glanced back hurriedly. "Why! What's come over them?" he wheezed in astonishment. "Who snuffed them out with barrels and what's that sticky fluid running all around?" "Molasses," Handy told him with extreme satisfaction as she tried vainly to wriggle out of her ring. "I wished barrels of molasses on their heads and we'd better dash on while they're stopped and stuck with it." "Then you've been breaking the law again," reproached Nox, dodging in and out and around their frantic enemies. "Well, as between broken heads and broken laws, I choose the laws. Besides, look what they did to me!" exclaimed the Goat Girl indignantly. "I may never get this hoop off or be able to lift a hand again. Nice people you have in Oz, I must say." "If you hadn't hit them with stones, they wouldn't have hit us with hoops," Nox reminded her sternly, at the same time breaking into a gallop to put as much distance as possible between himself and the troublesome Gillikins. A few had managed to lift the barrels from their heads, but most of them were rolling over and over on the ground, half choked with rage and molasses. "When we stop I think I can help you," promised Nox, looking anxiously at Handy, who was now quite purple in the face from her struggles with the hoop. "Just forget it, can't you, and think of the interesting people we are meeting. I'll wager you have no hook noses on Mt. Mern!" "I should say NOT!" sputtered the Goat Girl in disgust, and then realizing she was making no progress with the ring, sensibly gave up the attempt to free herself. Somewhat comforted by the thought that the Hook Noses were probably as uncomfortable as she was, Handy kept a sharp lookout for natives. If they ran into any more she wanted to be sure of seeing them first. But the rocky hills and glades were entirely deserted and at every step the way became more mountainous and lonely. Nox, panting and wheezing from the long pull, slackened his pace to a walk. Handy Mandy with some difficulty managed to dismount, and the Ox slipping his horn under the offending ring, gently forced it upward till the Goat Girl was able to wiggle free. Then together they climbed up the flinty inclines—up and up till they came to a wide ledge and a sparkling waterfall. Here they had a drink without having to wish for one, Nox sticking his head right into the water and Handy cupping three pairs of her hands to hold enough to satisfy her thirst. "Ho hum," sighed the Ox, "I wonder how much farther we'll have to go before we can find anyone who can direct us to this Silver Mountain? I'm sure I saw some castles when we were below." "So did I," said Handy, screwing his right horn back with a businesslike flourish. "My—y, seems a long time since we started from Keretaria. Do you suppose they have missed us yet?" "Probably," yawned the Ox, scratching his back against a rock, while Handy, suddenly deciding she needed another drink, stepped close to the waterfall. But instead of quenching her thirst, the Goat Girl spilled water all over her feet. "Nox! Nox!" she screamed, jerking all her thumbs in his direction. "Come! Look here! There's a big hollow behind this waterfall—a high wall of rock with a door in it! I can see it!" "Well," sniffed the Ox, rubbing his back luxuriously, "does it say 'come in'? Must we try every door we come to?" "Yes," Handy Mandy told him firmly, "we must! Where there's a door there's bound to be a door-keeper or at least someone who might tell us where we are. Now then, I'll jump through the waterfall first and knock on the door. There wouldn't be room for you on the ledge until the door is open." "Sounds risky!" objected the Royal Ox, putting back his ears. "What kind of people would live behind a waterfall? Ask yourself that." But the Goat Girl, without stopping to ask herself anything, had already plunged through the misty sheet of water, and gasping and spluttering was hammering on the door with all seven of her fists. |
|
