Chapter Chapter 11 · The Nome King

's palace was said to be; but it would be some time

before they reached that place.

The path was becoming rocky and difficult for the wheels of the chariot

to pass over, and presently a deep gulf appeared at their feet which

was too wide for them to leap. So Ozma took a small square of green

cloth from her pocket and threw it upon the ground. At once it became

the magic carpet, and unrolled itself far enough for all the cavalcade

to walk upon. The chariot now advanced, and the green carpet unrolled

before it, crossing the gulf on a level with its banks, so that all

passed over in safety.

"That's easy enough," said the Scarecrow. "I wonder what will happen

next."

He was not long in making the discovery, for the sides of the mountain

came closer together until finally there was but a narrow path between

them, along which Ozma and her party were forced to pass in single file.

They now heard a low and deep "thump!--thump!--thump!" which echoed

throughout the valley and seemed to grow louder as they advanced.

Then, turning a corner of rock, they saw before them a huge form, which

towered above the path for more than a hundred feet. The form was that

of a gigantic man built out of plates of cast iron, and it stood with

one foot on either side of the narrow road and swung over its right

shoulder an immense iron mallet, with which it constantly pounded the

earth. These resounding blows explained the thumping sounds they had

heard, for the mallet was much bigger than a barrel, and where it

struck the path between the rocky sides of the mountain it filled all

the space through which our travelers would be obliged to pass.

Of course they at once halted, a safe distance away from the terrible

iron mallet. The magic carpet would do them no good in this case, for

it was only meant to protect them from any dangers upon the ground

beneath their feet, and not from dangers that appeared in the air above

them.

"Wow!" said the Cowardly Lion, with a shudder. "It makes me dreadfully

nervous to see that big hammer pounding so near my head. One blow

would crush me into a door-mat."

"The ir-on gi-ant is a fine fel-low," said Tiktok, "and works as

stead-i-ly as a clock. He was made for the Nome King by Smith &

Tin-ker, who made me, and his du-ty is to keep folks from find-ing the

un-der-ground pal-ace. Is he not a great work of art?"

"Can he think, and speak, as you do?" asked Ozma, regarding the giant

with wondering eyes.

"No," replied the machine; "he is on-ly made to pound the road, and has

no think-ing or speak-ing at-tach-ment. But he pounds ve-ry well, I

think."

"Too well," observed the Scarecrow. "He is keeping us from going

farther. Is there no way to stop his machinery?"

"On-ly the Nome King, who has the key, can do that," answered Tiktok.

"Then," said Dorothy, anxiously, "what shall we do?"

"Excuse me for a few minutes," said the Scarecrow, "and I will think it

over."

He retired, then, to a position in the rear, where he turned his

painted face to the rocks and began to think.

Meantime the giant continued to raise his iron mallet high in the air

and to strike the path terrific blows that echoed through the mountains

like the roar of a cannon. Each time the mallet lifted, however, there

was a moment when the path beneath the monster was free, and perhaps

the Scarecrow had noticed this, for when he came back to the others he

said:

"The matter is a very simple one, after all. We have but to run under

the hammer, one at a time, when it is lifted, and pass to the other

side before it falls again."

"It will require quick work, if we escape the blow," said the Tin

Woodman, with a shake of his head. "But it really seems the only thing

to be done. Who will make the first attempt?"

They looked at one another hesitatingly for a moment. Then the

Cowardly Lion, who was trembling like a leaf in the wind, said to them:

"I suppose the head of the procession must go first--and that's me.

But I'm terribly afraid of the big hammer!"

"What will become of me?" asked Ozma. "You might rush under the hammer

yourself, but the chariot would surely be crushed."

"We must leave the chariot," said the Scarecrow. "But you two girls

can ride upon the backs of the Lion and the Tiger."

So this was decided upon, and Ozma, as soon as the Lion was unfastened

from the chariot, at once mounted the beast's back and said she was

ready.

"Cling fast to his mane," advised Dorothy. "I used to ride him myself,

and that's the way I held on."

So Ozma clung fast to the mane, and the lion crouched in the path and

eyed the swinging mallet carefully until he knew just the instant it

would begin to rise in the air.

Then, before anyone thought he was ready, he made a sudden leap

straight between the iron giant's legs, and before the mallet struck

the ground again the Lion and Ozma were safe on the other side.

The Tiger went next. Dorothy sat upon his back and locked her arms

around his striped neck, for he had no mane to cling to. He made the

leap straight and true as an arrow from a bow, and ere Dorothy realized

it she was out of danger and standing by Ozma's side.

Now came the Scarecrow on the Sawhorse, and while they made the dash in

safety they were within a hair's breadth of being caught by the

descending hammer.

Tiktok walked up to the very edge of the spot the hammer struck, and as

it was raised for the next blow he calmly stepped forward and escaped

its descent. That was an idea for the Tin Woodman to follow, and he

also crossed in safety while the great hammer was in the air. But when

it came to the twenty-six officers and the private, their knees were so

weak that they could not walk a step.

"In battle we are wonderfully courageous," said one of the generals,

"and our foes find us very terrible to face. But war is one thing and

this is another. When it comes to being pounded upon the head by an

iron hammer, and smashed into pancakes, we naturally object."

"Make a run for it," urged the Scarecrow.

"Our knees shake so that we cannot run," answered a captain. "If we

should try it we would all certainly be pounded to a jelly."

"Well, well," sighed the Cowardly Lion, "I see, friend Tiger, that we

must place ourselves in great danger to rescue this bold army. Come

with me, and we will do the best we can."

So, Ozma and Dorothy having already dismounted from their backs, the

Lion and the Tiger leaped back again under the awful hammer and

returned with two generals clinging to their necks. They repeated this

daring passage twelve times, when all the officers 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 cast-iron 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.

Chapter 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 fair-ies, and serve the Nome King," replied the machine.

"But they will do us no harm. You must call for the King, be-cause

with-out him you can ne-ver find the en-trance 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 en-treat-y," said Tiktok to Ozma. "If he will not come at your

re-quest, then the Nome King may list-en to your plead-ing."

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 Mr. Nome King, come here and see us."

The Nomes started to laugh again; but a low growl came from the

mountain, and in a flash they had all vanished from sight and were

silent.

Then a door in the rock opened, and a voice cried:

"Enter!"

"Isn't it a trick?" asked the Tin Woodman.

"Never mind," replied Ozma. "We came here to rescue the poor Queen of

Ev and her ten children, and we must run some risks to do so."

"The Nome King is hon-est and good na-tured," said Tiktok. "You can

trust him to do what is right."

So Ozma led the way, hand in hand with Dorothy, and they passed through

the arched doorway of rock and entered a long passage which was lighted

by jewels set in the walls and having lamps behind them. There was no

one to escort them, or to show them the way, but all the party pressed

through the passage until they came to a round, domed cavern that was

grandly furnished.

In the center of this room was a throne carved out of a solid boulder

of rock, rude and rugged in shape but glittering with great rubies and

diamonds and emeralds on every part of its surface. And upon the

throne sat the Nome King.

This important monarch of the Underground World was a little fat man

clothed in gray-brown garments that were the exact color of the rock

throne in which he was seated. His bushy hair and flowing beard were

also colored like the rocks, and so was his face. He wore no crown of

any sort, and his only ornament was a broad, jewel-studded belt that

encircled his fat little body. As for his features, they seemed kindly

and good humored, and his eyes were turned merrily upon his visitors as

Ozma and Dorothy stood before him with their followers ranged in close

order behind them.

"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."