The yellow hen, stepping high and with an air of vast importance, walked slowly over the rich velvet carpets of the splendid palace, examining everything she met with her sharp little eyes.
Billina had a right to feel important; for she alone shared the Nome King’s secret and knew how to tell the objects that were transformations from those that had never been alive. She was very sure that her guesses would be correct, but before she began to make them she was curious to behold all the magnificence of this underground palace, which was perhaps one of the most splendid and beautiful places in any fairyland.
As she went through the rooms she counted the purple ornaments; and although some were small and hidden in queer places, Billina spied them all, and found the entire ten scattered about the various rooms. The green ornaments she did not bother to count, for she thought she could find them all when the time came.
Finally, having made a survey of the entire palace and enjoyed its splendor, the yellow hen returned to one of the rooms where she had noticed a large purple footstool. She placed a claw upon this and said “Ev,” and at once the footstool vanished and a lovely lady, tall and slender and most beautifully robed, stood before her.
The lady’s eyes were round with astonishment for a moment, for she could not remember her transformation, nor imagine what had restored her to life.
“Good morning, ma’am,” said Billina, in her sharp voice. “You’re looking quite well, considering your age.”
“Who speaks?” demanded the Queen of Ev, drawing herself up proudly.
“Why, my name’s Bill, by rights,” answered the hen, who was now perched upon the back of a chair; “although Dorothy has put scollops on it and made it Billina. But the name doesn’t matter. I’ve saved you from the Nome King, and you are a servant no longer.”
“Then I thank you for the gracious favor,” said the Queen, with a graceful courtesy. “But, my children—tell me, I beg of you—where are my children?” and she clasped her hands in anxious entreaty.
“Don’t worry,” advised Billina, pecking at a tiny bug that was crawling over the chair back. “Just at present they are out of mischief and perfectly safe, for they can’t even wiggle.”
“What mean you, O kindly stranger?” asked the Queen, striving to repress her anxiety.
“They’re enchanted,” said Billina, “just as you have been—all, that is, except the little fellow Dorothy picked out. And the chances are that they have been good boys and girls for some time, because they couldn’t help it.”
“Oh, my poor darlings!” cried the Queen, with a sob of anguish.
“Not at all,” returned the hen. “Don’t let their condition make you unhappy, ma’am, because I’ll soon have them crowding ’round to bother and worry you as naturally as ever. Come with me, if you please, and I’ll show you how pretty they look.”
She flew down from her perch and walked into the next room, the Queen following. As she passed a low table a small green grasshopper caught her eye, and instantly Billina pounced upon it and snapped it up in her sharp bill. For grasshoppers are a favorite food with hens, and they usually must be caught quickly, before they can hop away. It might easily have been the end of Ozma of Oz, had she been a real grasshopper instead of an emerald one. But Billina found the grasshopper hard and lifeless, and suspecting it was not good to eat she quickly dropped it instead of letting it slide down her throat.
“I might have known better,” she muttered to herself, “for where there is no grass there can be no live grasshoppers. This is probably one of the King’s transformations.”
A moment later she approached one of the purple ornaments, and while the Queen watched her curiously the hen broke the Nome King’s enchantment and a sweet-faced girl, whose golden hair fell in a cloud over her shoulders, stood beside them.
“Evanna!” cried the Queen, “my own Evanna!” and she clasped the girl to her bosom and covered her face with kisses.
“That’s all right,” said Billina, contentedly. “Am I a good guesser, Mr. Nome King? Well, I guess!”
Then she disenchanted another girl, whom the Queen addressed as Evrose, and afterwards a boy named Evardo, who was older than his brother Evring. Indeed, the yellow hen kept the good Queen exclaiming and embracing for some time, until five Princesses and four Princes, all looking very much alike except for the difference in size, stood in a row beside their happy mother.
The Princesses were named, Evanna, Evrose, Evella, Evirene and Evedna, while the Princes were Evrob, Evington, Evardo and Evroland. Of these Evardo was the eldest and would inherit his father’s throne and be crowned King of Ev when he returned to his own country. He was a grave and quiet youth, and would doubtless rule his people wisely and with justice.
Billina, having restored all of the royal family of Ev to their proper forms, now began to select the green ornaments which were the transformations of the people of Oz. She had little trouble in finding these, and before long all the twenty-six officers, as well as the private, were gathered around the yellow hen, joyfully congratulating her upon their release. The thirty-seven people who were now alive in the rooms of the palace knew very well that they owed their freedom to the cleverness of the yellow hen, and they were earnest in thanking her for saving them from the magic of the Nome King.
“Now,” said Billina, “I must find Ozma. She is sure to be here, somewhere, and of course she is green, being from Oz. So look around, you stupid soldiers, and help me in my search.”
For a while, however, they could discover nothing more that was green. But the Queen, who had kissed all her nine children once more and could now find time to take an interest in what was going on, said to the hen:
“Mayhap, my gentle friend, it is the grasshopper whom you seek.”
“Of course it’s the grasshopper!” exclaimed Billina. “I declare, I’m nearly as stupid as these brave soldiers. Wait here for me, and I’ll go back and get it.”
So she went into the room where she had seen the grasshopper, and presently Ozma of Oz, as lovely and dainty as ever, entered and approached the Queen of Ev, greeting her as one high born princess greets another.
“But where are my friends, the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman?” asked the girl Ruler, when these courtesies had been exchanged.
“I’ll hunt them up,” replied Billina. “The Scarecrow is solid gold, and so is Tiktok; but I don’t exactly know what the Tin Woodman is, because the Nome King said he had been transformed into something funny.”
Ozma eagerly assisted the hen in her quest, and soon the Scarecrow and the machine man, being ornaments of shining gold, were discovered and restored to their accustomed forms. But, search as they might, in no place could they find a funny ornament that might be the transformation of the Tin Woodman.
“Only one thing can be done,” said Ozma, at last, “and that is to return to the Nome King and oblige him to tell us what has become of our friend.”
“Perhaps he won’t,” suggested Billina.
“He must,” returned Ozma, firmly. “The King has not treated us honestly, for under the mask of fairness and good nature he entrapped us all, and we would have been forever enchanted had not our wise and clever friend, the yellow hen, found a way to save us.”
“The King is a villain,” declared the Scarecrow.
“His laugh is worse than another man’s frown,” said the private, with a shudder.
“I thought he was hon-est, but I was mis-tak-en,” remarked Tiktok. “My thoughts are us-u-al-ly cor-rect, but it is Smith & Tin-ker’s fault if they some-times go wrong or do not work prop-er-ly.”
“Smith & Tinker made a very good job of you,” said Ozma, kindly. “I do not think they should be blamed if you are not quite perfect.”
“Thank you,” replied Tiktok.
“Then,” said Billina, in her brisk little voice, “let us all go back to the Nome King, and see what he has to say for himself.”
So they started for the entrance, Ozma going first, with the Queen and her train of little Princes and Princesses following. Then came Tiktok, and the Scarecrow with Billina perched upon his straw-stuffed shoulder. The twenty-seven officers and the private brought up the rear.
As they reached the hall the doors flew open before them; but then they all stopped and stared into the domed cavern with faces of astonishment and dismay. For the room was filled with the mail-clad warriors of the Nome King, rank after rank standing in orderly array. The electric lights upon their brows gleamed brightly, their battle-axes were poised as if to strike down their foes; yet they remained motionless as statues, awaiting the word of command.
And in the center of this terrible army sat the little King upon his throne of rock. But he neither smiled nor laughed. Instead, his face was distorted with rage, and most dreadful to behold.