The Essential Works of L. Frank Baum - L. Frank Baum

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It might have been better to have conquered Oz without any outside assistance.”

      “We could not do it,” said the General, positively.

      “Why not, Guph?”

      “You know very well. You have had one experience with the Oz people, and they defeated you.”

      “That was because they rolled eggs at us,” replied the King, with a shudder. “My Nomes cannot stand eggs, any more than I can myself. They are poison to all who live underground.”

      “That is true enough,” agreed Guph.

      “But we might have taken the Oz people by surprise, and conquered them before they had a chance to get any eggs. Our former defeat was due to the fact that the girl Dorothy had a Yellow Hen with her. I do not know what ever became of that hen, but I believe there are no hens at all in the Land of Oz, and so there could be no eggs there.”

      “On the contrary,” said Guph, “there are now hundreds of chickens in Oz, and they lay heaps of those dangerous eggs. I met a goshawk on my way home, and the bird informed me that he had lately been to Oz to capture and devour some of the young chickens. But they are protected by magic, so the hawk did not get a single one of them.”

      “That is a very bad report,” said the King, nervously. “Very bad, indeed. My Nomes are willing to fight, but they simply can’t face hen’s eggs—and I don’t blame them.”

      “They won’t need to face them,” replied Guph. “I’m afraid of eggs myself, and don’t propose to take any chances of being poisoned by them. My plan is to send the Whimsies through the tunnel first, and then the Growleywogs and the Phanfasms. By the time we Nomes get there the eggs will all be used up, and we may then pursue and capture the inhabitants at our leisure.”

      “Perhaps you are right,” returned the King, with a dismal sigh. “But I want it distinctly understood that I claim Ozma and Dorothy as my own prisoners. They are rather nice girls, and I do not intend to let any of those dreadful creatures hurt them, or make them their slaves. When I have captured them I will bring them here and transform them into china ornaments to stand on my mantle. They will look very pretty—Dorothy on one end of the mantle and Ozma on the other—and I shall take great care to see they are not broken when the maids dust them.”

      “Very well, your Majesty. Do what you will with the girls for all I care. Now that our plans are arranged, and we have the three most powerful bands of evil spirits in the world to assist us, let us make haste to get the tunnel finished as soon as possible.”

      “It will be ready in three days,” promised the King, and hurried away to inspect the work and see that the Nomes kept busy.

      14. How the Wizard Practiced Sorcery

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      “Where next?” asked the Wizard when they had left the town of Fuddlecumjig and the Sawhorse had started back along the road.

      “Why, Ozma laid out this trip,” replied Dorothy, “and she ‘vised us to see the Rigmaroles next, and then visit the Tin Woodman.”

      “That sounds good,” said the Wizard. “But what road do we take to get to the Rigmaroles?”

      “I don’t know, ‘zactly,” returned the little girl; “but it must be somewhere just southwest from here.”

      “Then why need we go way back to the crossroads?” asked the Shaggy Man. “We might save a lot of time by branching off here.”

      “There isn’t any path,” asserted Uncle Henry.

      “Then we’d better go back to the signposts, and make sure of our way,” decided Dorothy.

      But after they had gone a short distance farther the Sawhorse, who had overheard their conversation, stopped and said:

      “Here is a path.”

      Sure enough, a dim path seemed to branch off from the road they were on, and it led across pretty green meadows and past leafy groves, straight toward the southwest.

      “That looks like a good path,” said Omby Amby. “Why not try it?”

      “All right,” answered Dorothy. “I’m anxious to see what the Rigmaroles are like, and this path ought to take us there the quickest way.”

      No one made any objection to this plan, so the Sawhorse turned into the path, which proved to be nearly as good as the one they had taken to get to the Fuddles. As first they passed a few retired farm houses, but soon these scattered dwellings were left behind and only the meadows and the trees were before them. But they rode along in cheerful contentment, and Aunt Em got into an argument with Billina about the proper way to raise chickens.

      “I do not care to contradict you,” said the Yellow Hen, with dignity, “but I have an idea I know more about chickens than human beings do.”

      “Pshaw!” replied Aunt Em. “I’ve raised chickens for nearly forty years, Billina, and I know you’ve got to starve ‘em to make ‘em lay lots of eggs, and stuff ‘em if you want good broilers.”

      “Broilers!” exclaimed Billina, in horror. “Broil my chickens!”

      “Why, that’s what they’re for, ain’t it?” asked Aunt Em, astonished.

      “No, Aunt, not in Oz,” said Dorothy. “People do not eat chickens here. You see, Billina was the first hen that was ever seen in this country, and I brought her here myself. Everybody liked her an’ respected her, so the Oz people wouldn’t any more eat her chickens than they would eat Billina.”

      “Well, I declare,” gasped Aunt Em. “How about the eggs?”

      “Oh, if we have more eggs than we want to hatch, we allow people to eat them,” said Billina. “Indeed, I am very glad the Oz folks like our eggs, for otherwise they would spoil.”

      “This certainly is a queer country,” sighed Aunt Em.

      “Excuse me,” called the Sawhorse, “the path has ended and I’d like to know which way to go.”

      They looked around and sure enough there was no path to be seen.

      “Well,” said Dorothy, “we’re going southwest, and it seems just as easy to follow that direction without a path as with one.”

      “Certainly,” answered the Sawhorse. “It is not hard to draw the wagon over the meadow. I only want to know where to go.”

      “There’s a forest over there across the prairie,” said the Wizard, “and it lies in the direction we are going. Make straight for the forest, Sawhorse, and you’re bound to go right.”

      So the wooden animal trotted on again and the meadow grass was so soft under the wheels that it made easy riding. But Dorothy was a little uneasy at losing the path, because now there was nothing to guide them.

      No houses were to be seen at all, so they could not ask their way of any farmer; and although the Land of Oz was always beautiful, wherever one might go, this part of the country was strange to all the party.

      “Perhaps we’re lost,” suggested Aunt Em, after they had proceeded quite a way in silence.

      “Never mind,” said the Shaggy Man; “I’ve been lost many a time—and so has Dorothy—and we’ve always been found again.”

      “But we may get hungry,” remarked Omby Amby. “That is the worst of getting lost in a place where there are no houses near.”

      “We had a good dinner at the Fuddle town,” said Uncle Henry, “and that will keep us from starving to death for a long time.”

      “No one ever starved to death in Oz,” declared Dorothy, positively; “but people may get pretty hungry sometimes.”

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