WIZARD OF OZ - Complete Series. L. Frank Baum

had been carried beneath the giant’s legs and landed safely on the further side. By that time the beasts were very tired, and panted so hard that their tongues hung out of their great mouths.

      “But what is to become of the private?” asked Ozma.

      “Oh, leave him there to guard the chariot,” said the Lion. “I’m tired out, and won’t pass under that mallet again.”

      The officers at once protested that they must have the private with them, else there would be no one for them to command. But neither the Lion or the Tiger would go after him, and so the Scarecrow sent the Sawhorse.

      Either the wooden horse was careless, or it failed to properly time the descent of the hammer, for the mighty weapon caught it squarely upon its head, and thumped it against the ground so powerfully that the private flew off its back high into the air, and landed upon one of the giant’s castiron arms. Here he clung desperately while the arm rose and fell with each one of the rapid strokes.

      The Scarecrow dashed in to rescue his Sawhorse, and had his left foot smashed by the hammer before he could pull the creature out of danger. They then found that the Sawhorse had been badly dazed by the blow; for while the hard wooden knot of which his head was formed could not be crushed by the hammer, both his ears were broken off and he would be unable to hear a sound until some new ones were made for him. Also his left knee was cracked, and had to be bound up with a string.

      Billina having fluttered under the hammer, it now remained only to rescue the private who was riding upon the iron giant’s arm, high in the air.

      The Scarecrow lay flat upon the ground and called to the man to jump down upon his body, which was soft because it was stuffed with straw. This the private managed to do, waiting until a time when he was nearest the ground and then letting himself drop upon the Scarecrow. He accomplished the feat without breaking any bones, and the Scarecrow declared he was not injured in the least.

      Therefore, the Tin Woodman having by this time fitted new ears to the Sawhorse, the entire party proceeded upon its way, leaving the giant to pound the path behind them.

11. The Nome King

      By and by, when they drew near to the mountain that blocked their path and which was the furthermost edge of the Kingdom of Ev, the way grew dark and gloomy for the reason that the high peaks on either side shut out the sunshine. And it was very silent, too, as there were no birds to sing or squirrels to chatter, the trees being left far behind them and only the bare rocks remaining.

      Ozma and Dorothy were a little awed by the silence, and all the others were quiet and grave except the Sawhorse, which, as it trotted along with the Scarecrow upon his back, hummed a queer song, of which this was the chorus:

      “Would a wooden horse in a woodland go?

      Aye, aye! I sigh, he would, although

      Had he not had a wooden head

      He’d mount the mountain top instead.”

      But no one paid any attention to this because they were now close to the Nome King’s dominions, and his splendid underground palace could not be very far away.

      Suddenly they heard a shout of jeering laughter, and stopped short. They would have to stop in a minute, anyway, for the huge mountain barred their further progress and the path ran close up to a wall of rock and ended.

      “Who was that laughing?” asked Ozma.

      There was no reply, but in the gloom they could see strange forms flit across the face of the rock. Whatever the creations might be they seemed very like the rock itself, for they were the color of rocks and their shapes were as rough and rugged as if they had been broken away from the side of the mountain. They kept close to the steep cliff facing our friends, and glided up and down, and this way and that, with a lack of regularity that was quite confusing. And they seemed not to need places to rest their feet, but clung to the surface of the rock as a fly does to a window-pane, and were never still for a moment.

      “Do not mind them,” said Tiktok, as Dorothy shrank back. “They are on-ly the Nomes.”

      “And what are Nomes?” asked the girl, half frightened.

      “They are rock fairies, and serve the Nome King,” replied the machine. “But they will do us no harm. You must call for the King, because without him you can ne-ver find the entrance to the pal-ace.”

      “YOU call,” said Dorothy to Ozma.

      Just then the Nomes laughed again, and the sound was so weird and disheartening that the twenty-six officers commanded the private to “right-about-face!” and they all started to run as fast as they could.

      The Tin Woodman at once pursued his army and cried “halt!” and when they had stopped their flight he asked: “Where are you going?”

      “I—I find I’ve forgotten the brush for my whiskers,” said a general, trembling with fear. “S-s-so we are g-going back after it!”

      “That is impossible,” replied the Tin Woodman. “For the giant with the hammer would kill you all if you tried to pass him.”

      “Oh! I’d forgotten the giant,” said the general, turning pale.

      “You seem to forget a good many things,” remarked the Tin Woodman. “I hope you won’t forget that you are brave men.”

      “Never!” cried the general, slapping his gold-embroidered chest.

      “Never!” cried all the other officers, indignantly slapping their chests.

      “For my part,” said the private, meekly, “I must obey my officers; so when I am told to run, I run; and when I am told to fight, I fight.”

      “That is right,” agreed the Tin Woodman. “And now you must all come back to Ozma, and obey HER orders. And if you try to run away again I will have her reduce all the twenty-six officers to privates, and make the private your general.”

      This terrible threat so frightened them that they at once returned to where Ozma was standing beside the Cowardly Lion.

      Then Ozma cried out in a loud voice:

      “I demand that the Nome King appear to us!”

      There was no reply, except that the shifting Nomes upon the mountain laughed in derision.

      “You must not command the Nome King,” said Tiktok, “for you do not rule him, as you do your own peo-ple.”

      So Ozma called again, saying:

      “I request the Nome King to appear to us.”

      Only the mocking laughter replied to her, and the shadowy Nomes continued to flit here and there upon the rocky cliff.

      “Try entreaty,” said Tiktok to Ozma. “If he will not come at your request, then the Nome King may list-en to your pleading.”

      Ozma looked around her proudly.

      “Do you wish your ruler to plead with this wicked Nome King?” she asked. “Shall Ozma of Oz humble herself to a creature who lives in an underground kingdom?”

      “No!” they all shouted, with big voices; and the Scarecrow added:

      “If he will not come, we will dig him out of his hole, like a fox, and conquer his stubbornness. But our sweet little ruler must always maintain her dignity, just as I maintain mine.”

      “I’m not afraid to plead with him,” said Dorothy. “I’m only a little girl from Kansas, and we’ve got more dignity at home than we know what to do with. I’LL call the Nome King.”

      “Do,” said the Hungry Tiger; “and if he makes hash of you I’ll willingly eat you for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

      So Dorothy stepped forward and said:

      “PLEASE