"Humph!" growled Strut, looking fiercer than ever. But paying no heed to the ominous storm clouds forming on his brow, Nick loftily proceeded. "Not only is Ozma possessed of more jewels than any other sovereign known, but in her castle are magic appliances that make her the most powerful of rulers. For instance, Ozma has a magic belt with which she can transport anyone anywhere. On her wall hangs a magic picture in which she can see what is happening to her friends or foes—right while it is happening. In her safe is a magic fan to blow away her enemies, and so many other strange instruments of magic, I have not time to describe them. Among her advisors is the famous Wizard of Oz, who spends all his time studying magic and perfecting new inventions. The Ozoplane in which we made this perilous flight is his latest masterpiece. And now that you know a bit more of Ozma and her famous country, I am sure you will be delighted to become a part of our happy realm and acknowledge Ozma as the Supreme Sovereign of Stratovania."
"What?" screamed Strut, bounding off his throne and furiously confronting the Tin Woodman. "How DARE you suggest such a thing? This is the second time you have done so! Why should I, Strut of the Strat, acknowledge this miserable earthlander as my supreme anything? I am a thousand times richer and more important than any Belowlander below. Oz! OZ! Indeed!"
As Nick backed off in some alarm, Strut shook his long staff over the Tin Woodman's head. "Why, you can't even pronounce the name of your own country!" he sneered. "It is not Oz, as you say it, but OHS—the zone of Ohs, to be more correct. And if Ohs is in the zone of Ohs it is Ozone, which means AIR—and that makes it belong to ME! So I, Strut of the Strat, hereby do claim OZONIA for myself and my people, and you, my fine Mr. Funnel Top, shall take me there!"
"Don't you do it! Don't you do it!" Plumping down on his air cushion, for the effects of the air-ade had worn off at last, the Soldier with Green Whiskers wildly sounded retreat on his green bugle. Jellia, knowing he would run as fast as he could and perhaps wreck the Ozoplane before she and Nick could reach it, jumped off her throne and seized him by the coat tails. As she did so, Strut gave the glass gong beside him a resounding whack. Before any of the three travellers could take another step, the twenty Blowmen tramped back into the Royal Pavilion. The cheer engendered by the cheer gas had entirely evaporated by now, and they looked very grim indeed. At a signal from Strut, one seized Nick, a second the Soldier. A third was taking hold of Jellia, when Strut sternly waved him aside.
"No No! Not that one! She is our new Starina!" he told the Blowman roughly. "Now you are to stay right here, Jellia, my dear, and help rule over Stratovania while I descend to Ohs and take possession of that rich and prosperous country. And, sooner than soon, I will return, bringing you the magic treasure and jewels and the crown and scepter of this Ohsma!"
"Oh, but you mustn't!" wailed Jellia, clasping her hands desperately. "Ozma is a real Princess and much more beautiful than I!"
"In that case, I shall bring Ohsma back and make her a Starina also!" promised Strut.
"Now Hippenscop," he directed, shaking his finger at the odd-looking page, "you and Junnenrump are to obey Jellia in everything. I'll leave three Blowmen here to protect our Starina. The others, and all of my able-bodied fighters, shall fly with me to Ohs."
"The Ozoplane holds only four!" cried Jellia, looking desperately over at Nick who was struggling angrily to free himself from the Blowmen. But they had his arms pinioned behind his back, and the poor Tin Woodman was unable to help himself.
"Oh, that's all right!" answered Strut, "I and this Tin Emperor will ride in the Friend-ship, and the others will follow on their flying sticks and soon I will return with all the treasures of Ohs!" As the Blowmen started away, shoving Nick and the Soldier ahead of them, Jellia felt so frightened and alone that she burst into tears.
"Oh, please, please—couldn't you leave the Soldier to keep me company?" she sobbed, wiping her streaming eyes on her sash.
"Of course, if you wish!" Motioning to the Blowmen, they picked up Wantowin as if he had been a sack of potatoes, and tossed him roughly back into the Royal Pavilion. He landed with a clatter at Jellia's feet.
"But see here! I am not sure I can find the way back to Oz!" protested Nick Chopper as Strut fell into step at his side. "I happened upon this airosphere by the merest chance, and have no idea in which direction Oz now lies."
"Just the same—I think you will take me there!" Strut grinned wickedly, tapping Nick on the shoulder with his staff. He already had sent Junnenrump to summon the army, and, glancing over his shoulder, Nick saw a thousand young airmen strutting along behind them. As they came to the shores of Half Moon Lake, Hippenscop came panting and gasping into view.
"Her Skyness the new Starina, bade me give you this," he puffed, handing the Tin Woodman the small oil can the Wizard had given him at the party. Nick had forgotten all about his oil can and without it he was likely to rust and become perfectly helpless. Taking it thankfully from the messenger, he hung it on a hook beneath his arm and headed reluctantly for the Oztober. Nick had no intention of flying Strut to the Emerald City. Even if he had to wreck the plane, he would find some way to keep the greedy airman and his legions from conquering Oz. Then he would return and rescue Jellia and the soldier.
But, without a word to Strut, for argument at this point would have been useless, he mounted the ladder, walked through the cozy cabin and seated himself in the pilot's chair. Strut paused on the top rung of the ladder before he entered.
"Follow us closely, men," he commanded gruffly, "no matter how far or fast we fly." Strut's young warriors raised their flying staffs to show that they understood, and with a few final directions, the Stratovanian stepped over the sill, slammed the door of the Oztober and walked rapidly forward, examining everything with lively interest.
"So this dragon-body really flys?" he said, bending curiously over the navigator's table. "Ho, what's this? I thought you told me you had no way of finding the route back?" Nick Chopper, much more surprised than Strut, picked up the tidy map that lay on top of the buttons. It certainly had not been there when he left the plane, but here it was now, showing the complete course they had taken since leaving the Emerald City. Concluding this was some of the Wizard's magic, Nick examined the map attentively. Each turn up or down, each mile east or west, was charted accurately.
"All you have to do is follow this in reverse," exclaimed Strut. Unaccustomed as he was to flying except by staff, he was nevertheless sharp enough to realize the value of a good map when he saw one. "And remember now—no tricks!" he warned, sternly. "Land me safely in Ohs and you will be suitably rewarded. But land me anywhere else and you will be completely obliterated!"
Nick said nothing. Weary of Strut's threats and boasts, the Woodman touched the button to inflate the Oztober's balloon, and the "up," "south" and "fast" buttons. In the whirr and splutter of their take-off, the Airlander's further remarks and directions were completely drowned out.
For a long time after the departure of the Tin Woodman and of Strut and his legions, Jellia sat forlornly on the Star Throne, trying to stem the tears that coursed slowly down her cheeks. To be stranded on this high and dangerous airosphere was bad enough, but the thought of Strut flying off to destroy Ozma and steal all her treasures was more frightening still.
"What on airth shall we do?" questioned Jellia with a rueful smile, of the Soldier with Green Whiskers who was tramping morosely up and down the pavilion. Halting in his march, Wantowin shook his head dubiously.
"That I cannot say!" he murmured, taking off his cap and staring gloomily inside. "I have no standing in this country at all! But you, Jellia, are a Starina. Therefore you must decide what is to be done. And whatever your Majesty's orders may be, I will carry them out to the letter. To the letter!" declared Wantowin, standing up very straight and tall.
"Oh, bother 'my Majesty!'" scolded Jellia. "You know perfectly well I didn't ask to be a Starina of this terrible place!"
"It is not what you want but what you are, that counts!" insisted the Soldier, stubbornly. "And there's no getting round it, Jellia, you are a Starina! So while you are deciding what is to be done, I'll just do a bit of reconnoitering. It might be well to know the lay of the air!"
"Wait!" cried Jellia as Wantowin started smartly down the steps. "Whatever you do, Wanny—don't run!" she implored earnestly. "You might easily run off the edge and then where'd you be? So do please be careful, and if anything frightens you run straight back here! Do you promise?"
"Nothing ever frightens me!" said the Soldier in an offended voice. Marching sternly down the steps he was off at a double-quick, without even a glance over his shoulder. Feeling more alone than ever, Jellia sighed and folded her hands in her lap. But Wantowin's words, foolish as they were, had done her good. After all she was a Starina, for the time being anyway. So, straightening her crown, and drying her tears, Jellia tried to think how she should act under such bewildering circumstances. How would Ozma act, for instance, if she were sitting on the throne of this singular airtry? Even thinking of the gentle and dignified little Girl Ruler of Oz, steadied Jellia. Holding her head very high, she stepped down from the dais and began pacing slowly up and down the pavilion, switching her green skirts in such a regal manner that the two messengers who had returned quietly to their posts, stared at her with new interest and admiration.
"Is there anything we might bring your Strajesty?" asked Junnenrump, bowing from the waist and clicking his heels smartly together. At his question Jellia paused and eyed the two, speculatively.
"Why, yes," she decided after a moment's thought. "You, Junnenrump, may send some one to amuse me, and you, Hippenscop, may bring me two of those winged staffs. It is neither safe nor proper for a Starina and her Army to be without them!"
"But, your Skyness!" Hippenscop leaped into the air and spun round and round in an agony of embarrassment. "There are no extra staffs!" he blurted, finally coming to a stop before her. The little fellow looked so distressed, Jellia was on the point of letting him off. Then, remembering just in time that she was bound to be obeyed, she raised her arm.
"Go!" she commanded haughtily. "And do not return without two winged staffs!" Junnenrump already had started, and at Jellia's stern command Hippenscop backed dejectedly down the steps, his eyes bulging with dismay and consternation.
"If Wanny and I had flying sticks, we'd at least be as well off as the rest of these Airlanders," reasoned Jellia, resuming her walk. "But what funny names," she mused, as the messengers disappeared in two different directions and at two different speeds. "They make me think of—" here Jellia took a little run and jump, following it with a skip and a hop. "I suppose" she continued, talking conversationally to herself, "that is what their names really mean, everything is so mixed up here." Regaining her throne in one long slide, Jellia brought up with a slight start. This, she decided, was no way for a Starina to act. Smoothing down her dress, she walked sedately to Strut's throne and reached underneath. The real reason she had got rid of the messengers, of course, was so she could recover the kit-bag and have a chance to examine its contents without being observed. The cheer gas had saved them on one occasion, and perhaps there was magic powerful enough to enable her and the Soldier to escape from the airosphere before Strut returned. The bag was still there and snatching it up in her arms, Jellia climbed back on the throne. But just as she was about to zip it open, Junnenrump bounded up the steps of the pavilion, dragging a lean old Skylander by the hand.
"His Majesty's Piper!" announced Junnenrump, giving the Piper a shove forward and seating himself expectantly on the messenger's bench. Jellia was annoyed to have Junnenrump return so soon. But since she had sent for someone to amuse her, she could not very well object. So, resting her chin in her hand she looked curiously at the royal Piper. The old Skylander was tremendously tall and thin. His tunic was short and plaited, and under his arms he carried a pair of enormous bag pipes. Jellia never had cared for bag pipes, but on an airosphere she supposed wind instruments such as this naturally would be popular. The Piper, however, did not immediately play on his pipes. Instead he struck a few light and pleasant chords on the top buttons of his tunic.
bawled the Piper cheerfully. He looked so funny that Jellia burst out laughing. Thus encouraged, the Piper proceeded to sing, punctuating his song with extraordinary leaps and toe tappings.
"Would you care to try it?" he asked politely, holding out his hand to Jellia.
"No, No! Not today!" gasped the Oz maid, backing as far as the star throne would allow. "But I've really enjoyed watching you very much, and your singing is lovely," she added, generously.
"Ah, but wait until you hear me play," puffed the Piper. Raising his pipes he blew forth such a hurricane of whistles, squeals and fierce thunderings that poor Jellia clapped both hands to her ears. "Tell him to go away," she screamed above the awful din, wildly motioning to Junnenrump who was tapping his foot in time to the pipes and looking highly diverted. "Tell him to come back tomorrow." The fierce music of the bag pipes had brought airlanders running from every direction. Crowding round the pavilion they waved and bowed to the new Starina. Realizing she never would have any privacy under the Imperial Canopy, Jellia slipped off her throne. The messenger had the Piper by the tunic tails and was easing him gently down the steps. Jellia waited till they reached the bottom, then, as all the airlanders began to run after the still furiously pumping piper, Jellia started in the opposite direction. Surely somewhere, she thought, clutching the kit-bag close to her, somewhere she could find a quiet corner or cave or clump of bushes where she could examine the contents of the Wizard's bag without interruption.
So anxious was Jellia to be by herself, she broke into a run. Failing to notice a crystal bar stretched across the path, she tripped and fell violently up a tune tree. Falling down is bad enough, but falling up is worse still. Jellia not only had barked her shins on the crystal bar, but had bounced into the air so high she lost her breath and plunged down so abruptly among the top branches of the tune tree that she was somewhat scratched and shaken. She knew it must be a tune tree because plump black notes grew in clusters like cherries between the leaves. Several, dislodged by her fall, broke into gay little arias and chords. At any other time Jellia would have been quite interested, but now she was too agitated and upset to care.
"Such a country—or airtry!" groaned the Oz maid, rubbing her left ankle and her right knee. "One can't even fall down in their own way!" Parting the branches the ruffled little girl looked crossly out. It was quite a long way to the ground, but nevertheless Jellia decided to climb down. But suddenly it occurred to her that the top of the tune tree was as good a place as any, to open the kit-bag. Easing herself to a larger limb, she balanced the bag carefully in her lap and stretched out her hand to pull the tail. Then a piercing scream and the thump of a hundred footsteps made her draw it back in a hurry. Parting the branches of the tree for a second time, she saw Wantowin Battles running toward her like the wind.
"Help! Help! Save me!" yelled the Soldier with Green Whiskers. And he had reason to yell for just two leaps behind him panted Kabebe, waving an enormous crystal rolling-pin. After the Queen pounded the three big Blowmen, and after the Blowmen came nearly a hundred men, women, and children. Before Jellia had time even to guess why they were chasing the Army, Wantowin tripped over the same crystal bar that had caused her upfall, and landed with a terrific grunt in the branches beside her, scattering half and quarter-notes in every direction. The Airlanders stopped short and watched with breathless interest as the Soldier disappeared into the thick foliage of the tune tree.
"What's the matter? What happened?" whispered Jellia reaching out to steady the soldier who was bouncing wildly up and down on a nearby limb.
"YOU?" gasped Wantowin, almost losing his balance at the shock of seeing her. "Oh, Jellia! We must leave at once! At ONCE! As I was passing the cooking caves, Kabebe rushed out and grabbed me. She has decided to blow us away most any minute now. She has persuaded the Airlanders that Strut is lost and never will return. Oh why, WHY, did we ever fly to this terrible place?"
"Be quiet!" hissed Jellia, frightened almost out of her wits at this new turn of affairs. "How can I think with you making all that noise?"
"Come down! Come down!" bawled Kabebe. "Come down before I shake you down!" Grasping the trunk of the tune tree she gave it a playful shake.
Rolling his eyes up, the Soldier glanced desperately at Jellia, and Jellia, as desperately, glanced back.
"You might as well go down," she whispered resignedly, as the Queen gave the tree a tremendous shake that nearly dislodged them both.
"Not without you," shivered Wantowin, hugging his branch for dear life.
"Oh, well—let's get it over with," said Jellia despairingly. "Blowing away may not be so bad, and I'd rather do anything than stay up here." Tucking the kit-bag under one arm, Jellia swung herself down by the other and dropped lightly to the ground.
"What is the meaning of this outrageous behavior?" she demanded, as Wantowin dropped fearfully beside her. "His Majesty shall hear of this, I promise you!"
Kabebe, astonished to see Jellia as well as the Soldier with Green Whiskers drop out of the tree, took a hasty step backward. Jellia quickly followed up her advantage. "I'm amazed!" she said sternly. "I thought you knew that I was to help you rule while King Strut is away!" At this bold speech, Wantowin looked at Jellia in round-eyed admiration. Though her cheeks were scratched and her crown slightly askew, the little Waiting Maid looked every inch a ruler's helper, if not a ruler. Even the Blowmen began to shift uneasily from one foot to the other, their mouths falling open at Jellia's indignation. But Kabebe raised both arms and fairly screeched at the little Oz Maid.
"How dare you speak to me like that?" she shrieked. "King Strut is lost and never will return! I am Queen here—and I don't need your help! Blowmen! Seize this impudent pair, march them to the edge of the cliffs and blow them away." The crowd of Stratovanians looked uncertainly from Kabebe to Jellia.
"His Highness left you here to protect me!" Jellia reminded them sternly. But even as she spoke, she knew they had decided to obey Kabebe. She was flashing her star eyes so threateningly, and waving her winged stick so close to their heads, that the Blowmen were afraid to defy her.
"Come along, now," grumbled the first Blowman, taking Jellia roughly by the arm. "You've made enough trouble here!"
The other two Blowmen seized the trembling Soldier and began marching sternly toward the edge of Strut's Skyland. Jellia pulled back with all her strength, as also did Wantowin, but, hustled along by the huge Skylanders, they could do little to help themselves. Relentlessly, with the jeering citizens of Stratovania running along after them, the unfortunate Oz pair was dragged on.
"Just wait till your Master hears about this," sobbed Jellia, as the Blowmen shoved them as near to the edge of the cliffs as they dared go themselves. Then they stepped back to lift their horns. Jellia had managed to retain her hold on the Wizard's kit-bag, but even so she felt that their last moment had come.
Jellia gave a final sad little wave to the Soldier, who really was quite brave now that his doom had arrived. The Blowmen pointed their horns straight at them, but before they even could inflate their cheeks, a fierce roar and splutter from the clouds caused every head to turn upwards.
"The ship—the ship! The flying ship!" cried the First Blowman, letting his horn fall disregarded to the ground.
"It's Strut!" screamed the Stratovanians, treading on one another's toes in their sudden frenzy to be out of sight of their Master when he landed.
"'Tis the Master himself!" cried the first Blowman, yanking Jellia and the Soldier back from the edge of the Skyland. Pulling Kabebe along with them, the Blowmen ran as never before, closely followed by Strut's scurrying subjects. One moment later there was not a single airbody in sight. Convinced that their cruel and brilliant ruler had returned, they ran like rabbits. Some even flew, helping themselves along with their winged staffs, while Jellia, sinking on a large, crystal boulder, stared dazedly at the silver-bodied plane dropping rapidly toward them.
"It can't be the Oztober!" cried Jellia, delightedly. "It couldn't have come back so soon!"
"It's not!" cried Wantowin Battles, tossing up his cap and waving his arms exuberantly. "It's the other one, the Ozpril, and that means—" In his extreme excitement, the Soldier tripped over a balloon bush and fell seven feet into the air. "It means the Wizard himself has come to help us," sputtered Wantowin, blinking rapidly as he landed hard on the rock beside the young Oz maid. "Three cheers, Jellia! The Wizard of Oz has saved us!"
It was indeed the Ozpril, just as the Soldier with Green Whiskers had said. Even at a distance, Jellia could spell out the name on the gleaming body and, as the silvery plane came swooping toward them, she could not repress a shout of joy.
Too exhausted by the dreadful ordeal she had just been through to run to meet the ship, she jerked off her scarf and waved it wildly over her head.
About ten feet from the crystal boulder on which she had been sitting, the Ozpril came to a gentle and perfect landing. Scarcely had the whirr and sputter of its engine died away before the door of the cabin burst open and down climbed the little Wizard of Oz, followed by Dorothy and the Scarecrow. The Cowardly Lion, last of all, had difficulty fitting his paws on the rungs and, after a trembling descent, rolled over on his back, his four feet straight up in the air. The trip had not agreed with the Cowardly Lion at all. Weak and dizzy, he made no attempt to rise.
"Here you are at last!" cried the Wizard happily, rushing over to Jellia and seizing both of her hands. "So THIS is where you've been! Well I must say it's a fine place. Why it's beautiful, beautiful!" Swinging round so he could look in all directions, the Wizard positively glowed with interest and enthusiasm.
"What's so beautiful about it?" growled the lion without turning over. "Is there any grass? Are there any trees? Is there anything to eat?" Dorothy, on the point of embracing Jellia, gave a little scream, for the Tell-all-escope, which she had picked up just before leaving the plane, was making terse announcements. At this point it happened to be pointed at Jellia. Clearing its throat it remarked in a superior way: "You are now looking at Miss Jellia Jam, formerly of Oz, at present new Starina of the Strat, by edict of Strutoovious the Seventh. Miss Jellia Jam, Starina of Stratovania! Period! Stop, drop or point elsewhere!"
"Why, Jellia!" gasped Dorothy, letting the Tell-all-escope fall with a crash, "are you, really? Oh my! I don't suppose you'll ever want to return to Oz, now. Why, you must be having a wonderful time!"
"Humph!" sniffed Jellia, with a slightly wan smile. "If being pinched, chased and nearly blown to atoms is having a wonderful time, then I guess I've been having it all right!"
"Tell me," requested the Scarecrow, who had been walking in a slow circle around Jellia. "Does one prostrate oneself before a Starina, or does one merely kiss her hand?"
"Neither," laughed Jellia. Jumping up she gave the Scarecrow such a hug he was out of shape for hours. "But quick!—Let's all hop in the Ozpril and fly away before something terrible happens."
"Fly away?" cried the Wizard, shoving back his high hat. "But, my dear—we've only just come! I've been flying all night and need a little rest and refreshment before we start off again. Besides, I would like to see more of this interesting airland and its people, and add to my data on the Strata."
"That's what Nick thought," observed Jellia, putting both hands on her hips. "And look what happened to him!"
"What did happen to him?" demanded the Wizard, realizing for the first time that Nick was not among those present.
"You tell him," sighed Jellia to the Soldier. Sinking back on the boulder she held her aching head in both hands. All eyes turned toward the Soldier with Green Whiskers who opened and closed his mouth several times without saying a word. The Wizard, now thoroughly alarmed, began shaking him on one side and the Scarecrow on the other, until finally Wantowin took a tremendous swallow and gave them the whole story.
When the narrator reached the part where Strut had ordered Nick and him blown away, the Scarecrow hurried over to the balloon bush and began picking the almost ripe balloons as fast as his clumsy cotton fingers would permit. Not till he had about twenty did he even pause. So light and flimsy was the straw man that the bunch of balloons on their long stems kept jerking him into the air. After each jerk he would give a little grunt of satisfaction.
"These are just to keep me aloft—in case of accidents," he explained hastily to Dorothy who was watching him intently.
"But what of us?" asked the little girl, looking anxiously toward the Canopied City which, at present, seemed absolutely deserted.
"You say that this wretched Strut, after naming Jellia Starina, forced Nick to fly him to Oz?" exclaimed the Wizard, grasping Wantowin Battles by both arms and gazing into his face.
"Not only that," Wantowin told him hoarsely, "but he's taken his Blowmen and a thousand fighting men to conquer the country! He intends to bring back Ozma's crown, scepter, jewels and all the treasures in our castle!" finished the Soldier, dolefully.
"Oh, can't we do something Wizard?" cried Jellia determinedly. "I simply won't be Starina! I won't! I WON'T!"
"Just the same—you make a very pretty one," murmured the Scarecrow, patting the little Oz Maid consolingly on the shoulder. "But of course, we cannot allow this bounding airlander to take Oz!"
"If Nick had not 'taken possession' of Stratovania for Ozma, he'd never have thought of it," groaned Jellia. Rising stiffly, she picked up the kit-bag from the crystal rock beside her.
"Ah—so you still have my magic kitty!" In spite of his anxiety the Wizard smiled.
"Indeed I have," said Jellia firmly. "It saved us from being blown away. I used some of your cheer gas, Wiz, but I didn't have time to try out any of the other magic. Here, you'd better take it now and do let's be starting. No telling when Kabebe and those three Blowmen will be coming back."
"Forward march! Forward march!" Wantowin Battles started off all by himself for the Ozpril. "Hurry, hurry!" he called over his shoulder. "If those fearful people return they'll surely make trouble!" yelled the Soldier, his voice growing more emphatic.
"Well, it's certainly a mix-up," said Dorothy, moving closer to the Wizard.
"What do these people look like, Jellia?" she asked curiously. "Really I'd enjoy seeing a few."
"They look like nothing you ever have imagined!" Jellia told her with a slight shudder. "Goochers! Here come some now! And oh—it's those Blowmen—and all the others! Look, Wizard! Could we reach the Ozpril before they reach us?"
"Let's not try," decided the Wizard, as the Blowmen broke into a run. "Even if we made the plane, they might blow us to bits before I could get her started. Let's stay here and reason with them till I find something in this bag to help us."
"Oh, woe is we! Oh, woe is we!" gulped the Scarecrow, taking little runs and leaps into the air, hopeful that his balloons would lift him out of the danger zone as the threatening company drew closer. The Queen was marching grimly ahead of her subjects. In some way, decided Jellia, she had discovered Strut had not been in the silver plane. As the Wizard opened his kit bag the little Oz Maid rushed over to the Cowardly Lion.
"Get up!" directed Jellia, giving him a desperate prod with her toe. "Get up! We need your growl—and LISTEN!" she begged, as the big beast rolled over and blinked sleepily at the approaching airlanders. "Do everything I tell you or we are lost, LOST!"
Dorothy concluded Jellia had been quite right about the inhabitants of Stratovania. They certainly were like no one she ever had seen, and she could not help admiring the bold way Jellia stepped out to meet her dangerous adversary.
"Just what are you doing here?" demanded Jellia, folding her arms and tilting up her chin. "Did I not order you to leave us strictly alone? Blowmen, take this Kabebe woman away!"
"Kabebe's our Queen," muttered one of the Blowmen, scowling at Jellia. "At least," he corrected, glancing at his comrades, "she is our Queen until Strut returns."
"What makes you think Strut has NOT returned!" questioned Jellia, grandly. "Do you not recognize your Master!" With a regal wave, Jellia pointed to the Cowardly Lion. "Do you not believe that this is Strut—changed to this great beast by Ozma of Oz? But he is as powerful and able as ever, to rule this Kingdom! Strut!" Imperiously Jellia appealed to the Cowardly Lion. "Am I the Starina of Stratovania?"
The poor lion was as startled at Jellia's question as the Stratovanians. From sheer shock, he rose on his hind legs and let out a perfectly awful roar—which was perhaps as convincing an answer as he could have given.
"There! You see?" Jellia shrugged her shoulders as Queen Kabebe and the Blowmen turned white as ghosts and began to move away.
"It does sound like the Master," stuttered the Blowman, as the Cowardly Lion followed up his roar with a reverberating growl.
"What are your Majesty's wishes?" inquired Jellia, inclining her head graciously toward the trembling lion.
"Take that woman away, and have our supper prepared and served at once in the Royal Pavilion!" directed the lion in his most commanding roar!
The effect of the Cowardly Lion's speech was astonishing, indeed. The Stratovanians behind the Queen turned and ran for their lives. They started backing away so fast they fell up at every step, so that their progress was curious enough to watch. There were few animals on the airosphere and certainly none that talked. Thoroughly convinced that the Cowardly Lion was Strut and Strut was the lion, his terrified subjects fled in all directions.
"Whew!" exclaimed the Wizard, snatching out his green handkerchief and mopping his moist forehead. "That was quick thinking, my dear. Good acting, too," he puffed, leaning down to give the lion an approving pat.
"Oh, wasn't he WONDERFUL?" Jellia hugged the lion so energetically he fairly gasped for breath.
"Not so hard for ME to play King," he wheezed when he managed to escape from Jellia's embrace. "After all—I AM King of the Forest!"
"Well, however that may be, Jellia is certainly Starina of the Strat!" declared the Scarecrow. "I'm beginning to think Strut was right in choosing her! You've been wasting your talents in Oz, my dear, and you surely have earned a crown today!"
"But I don't want a crown!" asserted Jellia with spirit. Nevertheless she was quite pleased at such high praise. "Now, look! Since the Cowardly Lion ordered supper in the Royal Pavilion, perhaps we'd better go. It will be as good a place as any to rest while we plan our next move."
"Hi, there—is everything all right?" Wantowin Battles, who had hidden himself behind a crystal rock at the Blowmens' approach, now peered out nervously.
"For the present," called the Wizard, waving his kerchief, "for the present. Come along, Soldier, we're going to have supper in the Royal Pavilion!"
"Not I," said the Soldier, falling in step with the Scarecrow. "Count me out of that!"
"I'm sure I'll not be able to eat a bite," sighed Dorothy, picking up the tell-all-escope. "How can you even think of supper with those awful airmen flying to the Emerald City. Oh, why don't we go after them now?"
"Because I do not believe Nick will take them to the Emerald City," said Jellia, straightening her crown. "He'll lose them somehow and then come back here for Wanny and me."
"My own deduction, exactly," agreed the Wizard walking briskly along beside Jellia. "But wherever Nick is, we'll find him—same as we have found you."
"How did you find us?" asked Jellia, stopping short and staring up into the Wizard's face. "I've been wondering about that."
"Well, you see," explained the little magician impressively. "On the Ozpril there is a magnetic compass that shows the exact course taken by the Oztober, provided both planes are in flight. By following the compass, I followed your exact route. The delay in our arrival was caused by the difference in speed!"
"Why, then you saw the very same things we did," cried Jellia, nodding distantly to several airlanders who were bowing to the ground as the little procession passed.
"The very same," said the Wizard. Then, as a little afterthought—"By the way, what did you see?"
"Oh, nothing much but clouds, fog, an icecloud, and some flying airimals with spikes," Jellia told him briefly, as she started up the long steps to the Royal Pavilion.
"The same with us," said the Wizard, taking out a little book and squinting hastily at the precisely written entries, "'Clouds, fogs, spiked monsters,' AH!" He closed the book with a little exclamation of admiration. "So this is the seat of Government?"
"I must say I prefer a castle," observed the Scarecrow, jumping up the steps three at a time. "Still, all these columns are very pretty. Very pretty indeed!"
"Is my throne comfortable?" inquired the Cowardly Lion with a lordly sniff.
"That's right," giggled Jellia, "you will have to sit on the throne—that is, if Wanny doesn't mind?" The little maid turned mischievously to the Soldier with Green Whiskers. "After all you are a kind of King, too!"
"Not on your life!" declared Wantowin violently. "I wouldn't trade one button on my uniform for all the jewels in Strut's crown, nor one blade of Oz grass for all the rocks in Stratovania!"
"Bravo! Bravo!" applauded the Scarecrow. Having tied his balloons to one of the pillars, he was bouncing up and down on a blue air cushion. "Try one," he invited, shoving a couple toward the Wizard. Instead of one, the Wizard put three of the air cushions together and stretched out at full length.
"You can't imagine how tired a fellow grows after sixteen hours of flying," he murmured drowsily. "Hah, hoh, HUM! I hope you girls will excuse me if I take a little nap?"
"I wouldn't mind a nap myself," yawned Dorothy. Though she had dozed part of the night before, she felt extremely sleepy. Without much urging from Jellia, she curled up on a couch at the back of the pavilion and was asleep almost before her head touched the pillows.
"Best thing in the world for them," grinned the Scarecrow, as Jellia looked rather nervously from one sleeper to the other. "We'll probably have to fly all night—if we get away from here at all! The Wiz needs a good rest before he does any more piloting."
"Yes," agreed Jellia with a sigh, "I suppose he does. But I hope the lion's not going to sleep, too?" Climbing to her throne, Jellia gave him a good poke in the ribs. The lion, who was leaning back against the cushions with both eyes closed, shook his head.
"I never sleep on an empty stomach," he declared firmly. "Besides, a lion can go for days—if necessary—without rest or refreshment."
"Didn't you have anything to eat, at all?" inquired Jellia. Being terribly hungry herself, she could sympathize with the hungry beast.
"Oh," answered the lion without opening his eyes, "we did have a few square meal tablets the Wizard happened to have in his pocket. But, while they fill you up, they don't seem to satisfy."
"Same with the food here," said Jellia.
"Food!" The Cowardly Lion's nose began to twitch with eagerness. "Where is any?"
"If I am not mistaken, supper is approaching now!" announced the Scarecrow, peering out through the side draperies of the Canopy. "Is this one of your many servants, my dear?"
"Oh, I suppose so," said Jellia, as Bittsywittle trudged up the crystal steps balancing a huge tray on his head. He had been warned of the change in Strut, but the sight of the huge monster on the throne unnerved the little fellow and he began to tremble so violently, the dishes on the tray danced a regular jig.
"Just put the tray on the table," directed Jellia, patiently. "And don't jump, Bittsywittle! Strut won't bite you."
"How do you know I won't?" roared the Cowardly Lion, opening his eyes so wide Bittsywittle set down the tray and scuttled off like a hare. Without much enthusiasm, Jellia noted Kabebe had sent them six saucers of wind pudding and six glasses of air-ade.
"Don't touch it!" warned the Soldier with Green Whiskers, as the lion slithered off the throne and ambled to the table. "It will make you feel very funny."
"Well, I'd rather feel funny than sad," said the lion, sniffing the pudding delicately, "and I'd rather feel funny than starve. Aren't you having any, Jellia?"
"No, thank you!" Jellia shook her head sharply and exchanged a quiet wink with Wantowin. But the Cowardly Lion did not notice the wink. Or at least, he pretended not to and hurriedly lapped up all six saucers.
"Why, it's delicious!" he murmured rapturously, "Deli—"
"Hey, where you going?" The Scarecrow had been watching him enviously, for the pink pudding looked so good he almost wished he found it necessary to eat. But now he spun round in alarm, for without any warning at all, the lion had swelled and puffed up like a carnival balloon and gone wafting upward to soar in dizzy circles over their heads.
"Oh, he's just putting on airs because he's King," teased Jellia, wishing Dorothy were awake to enjoy the fun.
"But he might easily float off," worried the Scarecrow, pursuing the luckless lion with outstretched arms. "Wait—I'll save you!" he puffed, and snatching the cord from a long bell pull, he leaped on Strut's throne. After several unsuccessful attempts he managed to lasso the lion and tie him fast to the arm of the throne. "How do you feel?" he called solicitously, for the lion, with closed eyes and a desperate expression, was paddling his legs like a drowning dog.
"Oh, take it easy!" advised Jellia, relenting a little, "You'll float around all by yourself and come down presently, as light as a feather. I know 'cause I've tried it. Hello—here's Hippenscop! Now I wonder what he wants? Oh! My goodness! He's actually brought me two of those flying sticks!"
"Flying sticks?" exclaimed the Scarecrow, sliding off Strut's throne. "You don't tell me?" The messenger, by this time had reached the top step of the Pavilion. After a fearful look at the people from Oz, he advanced timidly toward Jellia.
"I have brought the flying sticks, your Majesty!" explained Hippenscop, holding them out with great pride and satisfaction. "I stole them from two sleeping watchmen, and managed to bring them here without Kabebe seeing me."
"KABEBE?" said Jellia, with an uncomfortable start. "Why, where is Kabebe?"
"In Star Park," whispered the Messenger, hoarsely. "She's got all the people worked up and excited! They're coming here presently to blow you away!"
"What?" gasped Jellia in an exasperated voice, "Again? Why she knows Strut will never allow that."
"But Kabebe says HE isn't Strut!" said the messenger with an apologetic bow toward the Cowardly Lion, who, paying no attention to the conversation, was floating in distracted circles above the throne. "Now Junnenrump and I believe your Majesty, and consider you the best and prettiest Starina Stratovania ever had! But no one else does, so first they are going to blow away the Friend Ship and then they are coming here to blow you all away! So—while I do not presume to give orders—if I were in your Majesty's place, I'd fly, this very instant and while there still is time!"
"The boy is right," declared the Soldier, grabbing up his blunder-buss. "Company! Fall in! Forward march!"
"Wake up! Wake up!" cried the Scarecrow, pummeling the Wizard with both hands. "The Airlanders are destroying our Ozoplane!" While Jellia, really touched by the messenger's loyalty, gave him one of her emerald rings, Wantowin Battles lifted Dorothy off the sofa and set her hastily on her feet.
"Forward! Forward!" he urged, pushing her ahead of him. "Kabebe's coming to blow us away!" Dorothy—blinking her eyes after a look at the Cowardly Lion floating over the throne—concluded she still was dreaming. But the Soldier kept shaking her till she finally realized she was awake and in danger.
"This way!" cried Jellia, as the Wizard bounced off his cushions. "This way! The thing for us to do is to run to the other side of the airosphere. Then, while those villains are blowing the Ozpril away, we can be reaching the edge—and—"