Glinda, the good Sorceress of Oz, sat in the grand court of her palace, surrounded by her maids of honor—a hundred of the most beautiful girls of the Fairyland of Oz. The palace court was built of rare marbles, exquisitely polished. Fountains tinkled musically here and there; the vast colonnade, open to the south, allowed the maidens, as they raised their heads from their embroideries, to gaze upon a vista of rose-hued fields and groves of trees bearing fruits or laden with sweet-scented flowers. At times one of the girls would start a song, the others joining in the chorus, or one would rise and dance, gracefully swaying to the music of a harp played by a companion. And then Glinda smiled, glad to see her maids mixing play with work.
Presently among the fields an object was seen moving, threading the broad path that led to the castle gate. Some of the girls looked upon this object enviously; the Sorceress merely gave it a glance and nodded her stately head as if pleased, for it meant the coming of her friend and mistress—the only one in all the land that Glinda bowed to.
Then up the path trotted a wooden animal attached to a red wagon, and as the quaint steed halted at the gate there descended from the wagon two young girls, Ozma, Ruler of Oz, and her companion, Princess Dorothy. Both were dressed in simple white muslin gowns, and as they ran up the marble steps of the palace they laughed and chatted as gaily as if they were not the most important persons in the world’s loveliest fairyland.
The maids of honor had risen and stood with bowed heads to greet the royal Ozma, while Glinda came forward with outstretched arms to greet her guests.
“We’ve just come on a visit, you know,” said Ozma. “Both Dorothy and I were wondering how we should pass the day when we happened to think we’d not been to your Quadling Country for weeks, so we took the Sawhorse and rode straight here.”
“And we came so fast,” added Dorothy, “that our hair is blown all fuzzy, for the Sawhorse makes a wind of his own. Usually it’s a day’s journey from the Em’rald City, but I don’t s’pose we were two hours on the way.”
“You are most welcome,” said Glinda the Sorceress, and led them through the court to her magnificent reception hall. Ozma took the arm of her hostess, but Dorothy lagged behind, kissing some of the maids she knew best, talking with others, and making them all feel that she was their friend. When at last she joined Glinda and Ozma in the reception hall, she found them talking earnestly about the condition of the people, and how to make them more happy and contented—although they were already the happiest and most contented folks in all the world.
This interested Ozma, of course, but it didn’t interest Dorothy very much, so the little girl ran over to a big table on which was lying open Glinda’s Great Book of Records.
This Book is one of the greatest treasures in Oz, and the Sorceress prizes it more highly than any of her magical possessions. That is the reason it is firmly attached to the big marble table by means of golden chains, and whenever Glinda leaves home she locks the Great Book together with five jeweled padlocks, and carries the keys safely hidden in her bosom.
I do not suppose there is any magical thing in any fairyland to compare with the Record Book, on the pages of which are constantly being printed a record of every event that happens in any part of the world, at exactly the moment it happens. And the records are always truthful, although sometimes they do not give as many details as one could wish. But then, lots of things happen, and so the records have to be brief or even Glinda’s Great Book could not hold them all.
Glinda looked at the records several times each day, and Dorothy, whenever she visited the Sorceress, loved to look in the Book and see what was happening everywhere. Not much was recorded about the Land of Oz, which is usually peaceful and uneventful, but today Dorothy found something which interested her. Indeed, the printed letters were appearing on the page even while she looked.
“This is funny!” she exclaimed. “Did you know, Ozma, that there were people in your Land of Oz called Skeezers?”
“Yes,” replied Ozma, coming to her side, “I know that on Professor Wogglebug’s Map of the Land of Oz there is a place marked ‘Skeezer,’ but what the Skeezers are like I do not know. No one I know has ever seen them or heard of them. The Skeezer Country is ‘way at the upper edge of the Gillikin Country, with the sandy, impassable desert on one side and the mountains of Oogaboo on another side. That is a part of the Land of Oz of which I know very little.”
“I guess no one else knows much about it either, unless it’s the Skeezers themselves,” remarked Dorothy. “But the Book says: ‘The Skeezers of Oz have declared war on the Flatheads of Oz, and there is likely to be fighting and much trouble as the result.'”
“Is that all the Book says?” asked Ozma.
“Every word,” said Dorothy, and Ozma and Glinda both looked at the Record and seemed surprised and perplexed.
“Tell me, Glinda,” said Ozma, “who are the Flatheads?”
“I cannot, your Majesty,” confessed the Sorceress. “Until now I never have heard of them, nor have I ever heard the Skeezers mentioned. In the faraway corners of Oz are hidden many curious tribes of people, and those who never leave their own countries and never are visited by those from our favored part of Oz, naturally are unknown to me. However, if you so desire, I can learn through my arts of sorcery something of the Skeezers and the Flatheads.”
“I wish you would,” answered Ozma seriously. “You see, Glinda, if these are Oz people they are my subjects and I cannot allow any wars or troubles in the Land I rule, if I can possibly help it.”
“Very well, your Majesty,” said the Sorceress, “I will try to get some information to guide you. Please excuse me for a time, while I retire to my Room of Magic and Sorcery.”
“May I go with you?” asked Dorothy, eagerly.
“No, Princess,” was the reply. “It would spoil the charm to have anyone present.”
So Glinda locked herself in her own Room of Magic and Dorothy and Ozma waited patiently for her to come out again.
In about an hour Glinda appeared, looking grave and thoughtful.
“Your Majesty,” she said to Ozma, “the Skeezers live on a Magic Isle in a great lake. For that reason—because the Skeezers deal in magic—I can learn little about them.”
“Why, I didn’t know there was a lake in that part of Oz,” exclaimed Ozma. “The map shows a river running through the Skeezer Country, but no lake.”
“That is because the person who made the map never had visited that part of the country,” explained the Sorceress. “The lake surely is there, and in the lake is an island—a Magic Isle—and on that island live the people called the Skeezers.”
“What are they like?” inquired the Ruler of Oz.
“My magic cannot tell me that,” confessed Glinda, “for the magic of the Skeezers prevents anyone outside of their domain knowing anything about them.”
“The Flatheads must know, if they’re going to fight the Skeezers,” suggested Dorothy.
“Perhaps so,” Glinda replied, “but I can get little information concerning the Flatheads, either. They are people who inhabit a mountain just south of the Lake of the Skeezers. The mountain has steep sides and a broad, hollow top, like a basin, and in this basin the Flatheads have their dwellings. They also are magic-workers and usually keep to themselves and allow no one from outside to visit them. I have learned that the Flatheads number about one hundred people—men, women and children—while the Skeezers number just one hundred and one.”
“What did they quarrel about, and why do they wish to fight one another?” was Ozma’s next question.
“I cannot tell your Majesty that,” said Glinda.
“But see here!” cried Dorothy, “it’s against the law for anyone but Glinda and the Wizard to work magic in the Land of Oz, so if these two strange people are magic-makers they are breaking the law and ought to be punished!”
Ozma smiled upon her little friend.
“Those who do not know me or my laws,” she said, “cannot be expected to obey my laws. If we know nothing of the Skeezers or the Flatheads, it is likely that they know nothing of us.”
“But they ought to know, Ozma, and we ought to know. Who’s going to tell them, and how are we going to make them behave?”
“That,” returned Ozma, “is what I am now considering. What would you advise, Glinda?”
The Sorceress took a little time to consider this question, before she made reply. Then she said:
“Had you not learned of the existence of the Flatheads and the Skeezers, through my Book of Records, you would never have worried about them or their quarrels. So, if you pay no attention to these peoples, you may never hear of them again.”
“But that wouldn’t be right,” declared Ozma. “I am Ruler of all the Land of Oz, which includes the Gillikin Country, the Quadling Country, the Winkie Country and the Munchkin Country, as well as the Emerald City, and being the Princess of this fairyland it is my duty to make all my people—wherever they may be—happy and content and to settle their disputes and keep them from quarreling. So, while the Skeezers and Flatheads may not know me or that I am their lawful Ruler, I now know that they inhabit my kingdom and are my subjects, so I would not be doing my duty if I kept away from them and allowed them to fight.”
“That’s a fact, Ozma,” commented Dorothy. “You’ve got to go up to the Gillikin Country and make these people behave themselves and make up their quarrels. But how are you going to do it?”
“That is what is puzzling me also, your Majesty,” said the Sorceress. “It may be dangerous for you to go into those strange countries, where the people are possibly fierce and warlike.”
“I am not afraid,” said Ozma, with a smile.
“‘Tisn’t a question of being ‘fraid,” argued Dorothy. “Of course we know you’re a fairy, and can’t be killed or hurt, and we know you’ve a lot of magic of your own to help you. But, Ozma dear, in spite of all this you’ve been in trouble before, on account of wicked enemies, and it isn’t right for the Ruler of all Oz to put herself in danger.”
“Perhaps I shall be in no danger at all,” returned Ozma, with a little laugh. “You mustn’t imagine danger, Dorothy, for one should only imagine nice things, and we do not know that the Skeezers and Flatheads are wicked people or my enemies. Perhaps they would be good and listen to reason.”
“Dorothy is right, your Majesty,” asserted the Sorceress. “It is true we know nothing of these faraway subjects, except that they intend to fight one another, and have a certain amount of magic power at their command. Such folks do not like to submit to interference and they are more likely to resent your coming among them than to receive you kindly and graciously, as is your due.”
“If you had an army to take with you,” added Dorothy, “it wouldn’t be so bad; but there isn’t such a thing as an army in all Oz.”
“I have one soldier,” said Ozma.
“Yes, the soldier with the green whiskers; but he’s dreadful ‘fraid of his gun and never loads it. I’m sure he’d run rather than fight. And one soldier, even if he were brave, couldn’t do much against two hundred and one Flatheads and Skeezers.”
“What then, my friends, would you suggest?” inquired Ozma.
“I advise you to send the Wizard of Oz to them, and let him inform them that it is against the laws of Oz to fight, and that you command them to settle their differences and become friends,” proposed Glinda. “Let the Wizard tell them they will be punished if they refuse to obey the commands of the Princess of all the Land of Oz.”
Ozma shook her head, to indicate that the advice was not to her satisfaction.
“If they refuse, what then?” she asked. “I should be obliged to carry out my threat and punish them, and that would be an unpleasant and difficult thing to do. I am sure it would be better for me to go peacefully, without an army and armed only with my authority as Ruler, and plead with them to obey me. Then, if they prove obstinate I could resort to other means to win their obedience.”
“It’s a ticklish thing, anyhow you look at it,” sighed Dorothy. “I’m sorry now that I noticed the Record in the Great Book.”
“But can’t you realize, my dear, that I must do my duty, now that I am aware of this trouble?” asked Ozma. “I am fully determined to go at once to the Magic Isle of the Skeezers and to the enchanted mountain of the Flatheads, and prevent war and strife between their inhabitants. The only question to decide is whether it is better for me to go alone, or to assemble a party of my friends and loyal supporters to accompany me.”
“If you go I want to go, too,” declared Dorothy. “Whatever happens it’s going to be fun—’cause all excitement is fun—and I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
Neither Ozma nor Glinda paid any attention to this statement, for they were gravely considering the serious aspect of this proposed adventure.
“There are plenty of friends who would like to go with you,” said the Sorceress, “but none of them would afford your Majesty any protection in case you were in danger. You are yourself the most powerful fairy in Oz, although both I and the Wizard have more varied arts of magic at our command. However, you have one art that no other in all the world can equal—the art of winning hearts and making people love to bow to your gracious presence. For that reason I believe you can accomplish more good alone than with a large number of subjects in your train.”
“I believe that also,” agreed the Princess. “I shall be quite able to take care of myself, you know, but might not be able to protect others so well. I do not look for opposition, however. I shall speak to these people in kindly words and settle their dispute—whatever it may be—in a just manner.”
“Aren’t you going to take me?” pleaded Dorothy. “You’ll need some companion, Ozma.”
The Princess smiled upon her little friend.
“I see no reason why you should not accompany me,” was her reply. “Two girls are not very warlike and they will not suspect us of being on any errand but a kindly and peaceful one. But, in order to prevent war and strife between these angry peoples, we must go to them at once. Let us return immediately to the Emerald City and prepare to start on our journey early tomorrow morning.”
Glinda was not quite satisfied with this plan, but could not think of any better way to meet the problem. She knew that Ozma, with all her gentleness and sweet disposition, was accustomed to abide by any decision she had made and could not easily be turned from her purpose. Moreover she could see no great danger to the fairy Ruler of Oz in the undertaking, even though the unknown people she was to visit proved obstinate. But Dorothy was not a fairy; she was a little girl who had come from Kansas to live in the Land of Oz. Dorothy might encounter dangers that to Ozma would be as nothing but to an “Earth child” would be very serious.
The very fact that Dorothy lived in Oz, and had been made a Princess by her friend Ozma, prevented her from being killed or suffering any great bodily pain as long as she lived in that fairyland. She could not grow big, either, and would always remain the same little girl who had come to Oz, unless in some way she left that fairyland or was spirited away from it. But Dorothy was a mortal, nevertheless, and might possibly be destroyed, or hidden where none of her friends could ever find her. She could, for instance, be cut into pieces, and the pieces, while still alive and free from pain, could be widely scattered; or she might be buried deep underground, or “destroyed” in other ways by evil magicians, were she not properly protected. These facts Glinda was considering while she paced with stately tread her marble hall.
Finally the good Sorceress paused and drew a ring from her finger, handing it to Dorothy.
“Wear this ring constantly until your return,” she said to the girl. “If serious danger threatens you, turn the ring around on your finger once to the right and another turn to the left. That will ring the alarm bell in my palace and I will at once come to your rescue. But do not use the ring unless you are actually in danger of destruction. While you remain with Princess Ozma I believe she will be able to protect you from all lesser ills.”
“Thank you, Glinda,” responded Dorothy gratefully, as she placed the ring on her finger. “I’m going to wear my Magic Belt which I took from the Nome King, too, so I guess I’ll be safe from anything the Skeezers and Flatheads try to do to me.”
Ozma had many arrangements to make before she could leave her throne and her palace in the Emerald City, even for a trip of a few days, so she bade good-bye to Glinda and with Dorothy climbed into the Red Wagon. A word to the wooden Sawhorse started that astonishing creature on the return journey, and so swiftly did he run that Dorothy was unable to talk or do anything but hold tight to her seat all the way back to the Emerald City.