They walked slowly down the path between the rocks, Tiktok going first, Dorothy following him, and the yellow hen trotting along last of all.
At the foot of the path the copper man leaned down and tossed aside with ease the rocks that cumbered the way. Then he turned to Dorothy and said:
“Let me car-ry your din-ner-pail.”
She placed it in his right hand at once, and the copper fingers closed firmly over the stout handle.
Then the little procession marched out upon the level sands.
As soon as the three Wheelers who were guarding the mound saw them, they began to shout their wild cries and rolled swiftly toward the little group, as if to capture them or bar their way. But when the foremost had approached near enough, Tiktok swung the tin dinner-pail and struck the Wheeler a sharp blow over its head with the queer weapon. Perhaps it did not hurt very much, but it made a great noise, and the Wheeler uttered a howl and tumbled over upon its side. The next minute it scrambled to its wheels and rolled away as fast as it could go, screeching with fear at the same time.
“I told you they were harm-less,” began Tiktok; but before he could say more another Wheeler was upon them. Crack! went the dinner-pail against its head, knocking its straw hat a dozen feet away; and that was enough for this Wheeler, also. It rolled away after the first one, and the third did not wait to be pounded with the pail, but joined its fellows as quickly as its wheels would whirl.
The yellow hen gave a cackle of delight, and flying to a perch upon Tiktok’s shoulder, she said:
“Bravely done, my copper friend! and wisely thought of, too. Now we are free from those ugly creatures.”
But just then a large band of Wheelers rolled from the forest, and relying upon their numbers to conquer, they advanced fiercely upon Tiktok. Dorothy grabbed Billina in her arms and held her tight, and the machine embraced the form of the little girl with his left arm, the better to protect her. Then the Wheelers were upon them.
Rattlety, bang! bang! went the dinner-pail in every direction, and it made so much clatter bumping against the heads of the Wheelers that they were much more frightened than hurt and fled in a great panic. All, that is, except their leader. This Wheeler had stumbled against another and fallen flat upon his back, and before he could get his wheels under him to rise again, Tiktok had fastened his copper fingers into the neck of the gorgeous jacket of his foe and held him fast.
“Tell your peo-ple to go a-way,” commanded the machine.
The leader of the Wheelers hesitated to give this order, so Tiktok shook him as a terrier dog does a rat, until the Wheeler’s teeth rattled together with a noise like hailstones on a window pane. Then, as soon as the creature could get its breath, it shouted to the others to roll away, which they immediately did.
“Now,” said Tiktok, “you shall come with us and tell me what I want to know.”
“You’ll be sorry for treating me in this way,” whined the Wheeler. “I’m a terribly fierce person.”
“As for that,” answered Tiktok, “I am only a ma-chine, and can-not feel sor-row or joy, no mat-ter what hap-pens. But you are wrong to think your-self ter-ri-ble or fierce.”
“Why so?” asked the Wheeler.
“Be-cause no one else thinks as you do. Your wheels make you help-less to in-jure an-y one. For you have no fists and can not scratch or e-ven pull hair. Nor have you an-y feet to kick with. All you can do is to yell and shout, and that does not hurt an-y one at all.”
The Wheeler burst into a flood of tears, to Dorothy’s great surprise.
“Now I and my people are ruined forever!” he sobbed; “for you have discovered our secret. Being so helpless, our only hope is to make people afraid of us, by pretending we are very fierce and terrible, and writing in the sand warnings to Beware the Wheelers. Until now we have frightened everyone, but since you have discovered our weakness our enemies will fall upon us and make us very miserable and unhappy.”
“Oh, no,” exclaimed Dorothy, who was sorry to see this beautifully dressed Wheeler so miserable; “Tiktok will keep your secret, and so will Billina and I. Only, you must promise not to try to frighten children any more, if they come near to you.”
“I won’t—indeed I won’t!” promised the Wheeler, ceasing to cry and becoming more cheerful. “I’m not really bad, you know; but we have to pretend to be terrible in order to prevent others from attacking us.”
“That is not ex-act-ly true,” said Tiktok, starting to walk toward the path through the forest, and still holding fast to his prisoner, who rolled slowly along beside him. “You and your peo-ple are full of mis-chief, and like to both-er those who fear you. And you are of-ten im-pu-dent and dis-a-gree-a-ble, too. But if you will try to cure those faults I will not tell any-one how help-less you are.”
“I’ll try, of course,” replied the Wheeler, eagerly. “And thank you, Mr. Tiktok, for your kindness.”
“I am on-ly a ma-chine,” said Tiktok. “I can not be kind an-y more than I can be sor-ry or glad. I can on-ly do what I am wound up to do.”
“Are you wound up to keep my secret?” asked the Wheeler, anxiously.
“Yes; if you be-have your-self. But tell me: who rules the Land of Ev now?” asked the machine.
“There is no ruler,” was the answer, “because every member of the royal family is imprisoned by the Nome King. But the Princess Langwidere, who is a niece of our late King Evoldo, lives in a part of the royal palace and takes as much money out of the royal treasury as she can spend. The Princess Langwidere is not exactly a ruler, you see, because she doesn’t rule; but she is the nearest approach to a ruler we have at present.”
“I do not re-mem-ber her,” said Tiktok. “What does she look like?”
“That I cannot say,” replied the Wheeler, “although I have seen her twenty times. For the Princess Langwidere is a different person every time I see her, and the only way her subjects can recognize her at all is by means of a beautiful ruby key which she always wears on a chain attached to her left wrist. When we see the key we know we are beholding the Princess.”
“That is strange,” said Dorothy, in astonishment. “Do you mean to say that so many different princesses are one and the same person?”
“Not exactly,” answered the Wheeler. “There is, of course, but one princess; but she appears to us in many forms, which are all more or less beautiful.”
“She must be a witch,” exclaimed the girl.
“I do not think so,” declared the Wheeler. “But there is some mystery connected with her, nevertheless. She is a very vain creature, and lives mostly in a room surrounded by mirrors, so that she can admire herself whichever way she looks.”
No one answered this speech, because they had just passed out of the forest and their attention was fixed upon the scene before them—a beautiful vale in which were many fruit trees and green fields, with pretty farm-houses scattered here and there and broad, smooth roads that led in every direction.
In the center of this lovely vale, about a mile from where our friends were standing, rose the tall spires of the royal palace, which glittered brightly against their background of blue sky. The palace was surrounded by charming grounds, full of flowers and shrubbery. Several tinkling fountains could be seen, and there were pleasant walks bordered by rows of white marble statuary.
All these details Dorothy was, of course, unable to notice or admire until they had advanced along the road to a position quite near to the palace, and she was still looking at the pretty sights when her little party entered the grounds and approached the big front door of the king’s own apartments. To their disappointment they found the door tightly closed. A sign was tacked to the panel which read as follows:
Please Knock at the Third Door in the Left Wing.
“Now,” said Tiktok to the captive Wheeler, “you must show us the way to the Left Wing.”
“Very well,” agreed the prisoner, “it is around here at the right.”
“How can the left wing be at the right?” demanded Dorothy, who feared the Wheeler was fooling them.
“Because there used to be three wings, and two were torn down, so the one on the right is the only one left. It is a trick of the Princess Langwidere to prevent visitors from annoying her.”
Then the captive led them around to the wing, after which the machine man, having no further use for the Wheeler, permitted him to depart and rejoin his fellows. He immediately rolled away at a great pace and was soon lost to sight.
Tiktok now counted the doors in the wing and knocked loudly upon the third one.
It was opened by a little maid in a cap trimmed with gay ribbons, who bowed respectfully and asked:
“What do you wish, good people?”
“Are you the Princess Langwidere?” asked Dorothy.
“No, miss; I am her servant,” replied the maid.
“May I see the Princess, please?”
“I will tell her you are here, miss, and ask her to grant you an audience,” said the maid. “Step in, please, and take a seat in the drawing-room.”
So Dorothy walked in, followed closely by the machine. But as the yellow hen tried to enter after them, the little maid cried “Shoo!” and flapped her apron in Billina’s face.
“Shoo, yourself!” retorted the hen, drawing back in anger and ruffling up her feathers. “Haven’t you any better manners than that?”
“Oh, do you talk?” enquired the maid, evidently surprised.
“Can’t you hear me?” snapped Billina. “Drop that apron, and get out of the doorway, so that I may enter with my friends!”
“The Princess won’t like it,” said the maid, hesitating.
“I don’t care whether she likes it or not,” replied Billina, and fluttering her wings with a loud noise she flew straight at the maid’s face. The little servant at once ducked her head, and the hen reached Dorothy’s side, in safety.
“Very well,” sighed the maid; “if you are all ruined because of this obstinate hen, don’t blame me for it. It isn’t safe to annoy the Princess Langwidere.”
“Tell her we are waiting, if you please,” Dorothy requested, with dignity. “Billina is my friend, and must go wherever I go.”
Without more words the maid led them to a richly furnished drawing-room, lighted with subdued rainbow tints that came in through beautiful stained-glass windows.
“Remain here,” she said. “What names shall I give the Princess?”
“I am Dorothy Gale, of Kansas,” replied the child; “and this gentleman is a machine named Tiktok, and the yellow hen is my friend Billina.”
The little servant bowed and withdrew, going through several passages and mounting two marble stairways before she came to the apartments occupied by her mistress.
Princess Langwidere’s sitting-room was panelled with great mirrors, which reached from the ceiling to the floor; also the ceiling was composed of mirrors, and the floor was of polished silver that reflected every object upon it. So when Langwidere sat in her easy chair and played soft melodies upon her mandolin, her form was mirrored hundreds of times, in walls and ceiling and floor, and whichever way the lady turned her head she could see and admire her own features. This she loved to do, and just as the maid entered she was saying to herself:
“This head with the auburn hair and hazel eyes is quite attractive. I must wear it more often than I have done of late, although it may not be the best of my collection.”
“You have company, Your Highness,” announced the maid, bowing low.
“Who is it?” asked Langwidere, yawning.
“Dorothy Gale of Kansas, Mr. Tiktok and Billina,” answered the maid.
“What a queer lot of names!” murmured the Princess, beginning to be a little interested. “What are they like? Is Dorothy Gale of Kansas pretty?”
“She might be called so,” the maid replied.
“And is Mr. Tiktok attractive?” continued the Princess.
“That I cannot say, Your Highness. But he seems very bright. Will Your Gracious Highness see them?”
“Oh, I may as well, Nanda. But I am tired admiring this head, and if my visitor has any claim to beauty I must take care that she does not surpass me. So I will go to my cabinet and change to No. 17, which I think is my best appearance. Don’t you?”
“Your No. 17 is exceedingly beautiful,” answered Nanda, with another bow.
Again the Princess yawned. Then she said:
“Help me to rise.”
So the maid assisted her to gain her feet, although Langwidere was the stronger of the two; and then the Princess slowly walked across the silver floor to her cabinet, leaning heavily at every step upon Nanda’s arm.
Now I must explain to you that the Princess Langwidere had thirty heads—as many as there are days in the month. But of course she could only wear one of them at a time, because she had but one neck. These heads were kept in what she called her “cabinet,” which was a beautiful dressing-room that lay just between Langwidere’s sleeping-chamber and the mirrored sitting-room. Each head was in a separate cupboard lined with velvet. The cupboards ran all around the sides of the dressing-room, and had elaborately carved doors with gold numbers on the outside and jewelled-framed mirrors on the inside of them.
When the Princess got out of her crystal bed in the morning she went to her cabinet, opened one of the velvet-lined cupboards, and took the head it contained from its golden shelf. Then, by the aid of the mirror inside the open door, she put on the head—as neat and straight as could be—and afterward called her maids to robe her for the day. She always wore a simple white costume, that suited all the heads. For, being able to change her face whenever she liked, the Princess had no interest in wearing a variety of gowns, as have other ladies who are compelled to wear the same face constantly.
Of course the thirty heads were in great variety, no two formed alike but all being of exceeding loveliness. There were heads with golden hair, brown hair, rich auburn hair and black hair; but none with gray hair. The heads had eyes of blue, of gray, of hazel, of brown and of black; but there were no red eyes among them, and all were bright and handsome. The noses were Grecian, Roman, retroussé and Oriental, representing all types of beauty; and the mouths were of assorted sizes and shapes, displaying pearly teeth when the heads smiled. As for dimples, they appeared in cheeks and chins, wherever they might be most charming, and one or two heads had freckles upon the faces to contrast the better with the brilliancy of their complexions.
One key unlocked all the velvet cupboards containing these treasures—a curious key carved from a single blood-red ruby—and this was fastened to a strong but slender chain which the Princess wore around her left wrist.
When Nanda had supported Langwidere to a position in front of cupboard No. 17, the Princess unlocked the door with her ruby key and after handing head No. 9, which she had been wearing, to the maid, she took No. 17 from its shelf and fitted it to her neck. It had black hair and dark eyes and a lovely pearl-and-white complexion, and when Langwidere wore it she knew she was remarkably beautiful in appearance.
There was only one trouble with No. 17; the temper that went with it (and which was hidden somewhere under the glossy black hair) was fiery, harsh and haughty in the extreme, and it often led the Princess to do unpleasant things which she regretted when she came to wear her other heads.
But she did not remember this today, and went to meet her guests in the drawing-room with a feeling of certainty that she would surprise them with her beauty.
However, she was greatly disappointed to find that her visitors were merely a small girl in a gingham dress, a copper man that would only go when wound up, and a yellow hen that was sitting contentedly in Langwidere’s best work-basket, where there was a china egg used for darning stockings.
It may surprise you to learn that a princess ever does such a common thing as darn stockings. But, if you will stop to think, you will realize that a princess is sure to wear holes in her stockings, the same as other people; only it isn’t considered quite polite to mention the matter.
“Oh!” said Langwidere, slightly lifting the nose of No. 17. “I thought some one of importance had called.”
“Then you were right,” declared Dorothy. “I’m a good deal of ‘portance myself, and when Billina lays an egg she has the proudest cackle you ever heard. As for Tiktok, he’s the——”
“Stop—Stop!” commanded the Princess, with an angry flash of her splendid eyes. “How dare you annoy me with your senseless chatter?”
“Why, you horrid thing!” said Dorothy, who was not accustomed to being treated so rudely.
The Princess looked at her more closely.
“Tell me,” she resumed, “are you of royal blood?”
“Better than that, ma’am,” said Dorothy. “I came from Kansas.”
“Huh!” cried the Princess, scornfully. “You are a foolish child, and I cannot allow you to annoy me. Run away, you little goose, and bother some one else.”
Dorothy was so indignant that for a moment she could find no words to reply. But she rose from her chair, and was about to leave the room when the Princess, who had been scanning the girl’s face, stopped her by saying, more gently:
“Come nearer to me.”
Dorothy obeyed, without a thought of fear, and stood before the Princess while Langwidere examined her face with careful attention.
“You are rather attractive,” said the lady, presently. “Not at all beautiful, you understand, but you have a certain style of prettiness that is different from that of any of my thirty heads. So I believe I’ll take your head and give you No. 26 for it.”
“Well, I b’lieve you won’t!” exclaimed Dorothy.
“It will do you no good to refuse,” continued the Princess; “for I need your head for my collection, and in the Land of Ev my will is law. I never have cared much for No. 26, and you will find that it is very little worn. Besides, it will do you just as well as the one you’re wearing, for all practical purposes.”
“I don’t know anything about your No. 26, and I don’t want to,” said Dorothy, firmly. “I’m not used to taking cast-off things, so I’ll just keep my own head.”
“You refuse?” cried the Princess, with a frown.
“Of course I do,” was the reply.
“Then,” said Langwidere, “I shall lock you up in a tower until you decide to obey me. Nanda,” turning to her maid, “call my army.”
Nanda rang a silver bell, and at once a big fat colonel in a bright red uniform entered the room, followed by ten lean soldiers, who all looked sad and discouraged and saluted the princess in a very melancholy fashion.
“Carry that girl to the North Tower and lock her up!” cried the Princess, pointing to Dorothy.
“To hear is to obey,” answered the big red colonel, and caught the child by her arm. But at that moment Tiktok raised his dinner-pail and pounded it so forcibly against the colonel’s head that the big officer sat down upon the floor with a sudden bump, looking both dazed and very much astonished.
“Help!” he shouted, and the ten lean soldiers sprang to assist their leader.
There was great excitement for the next few moments, and Tiktok had knocked down seven of the army, who were sprawling in every direction upon the carpet, when suddenly the machine paused, with the dinner-pail raised for another blow, and remained perfectly motionless.
“My ac-tion has run down,” he called to Dorothy. “Wind me up, quick.”
She tried to obey, but the big colonel had by this time managed to get upon his feet again, so he grabbed fast hold of the girl and she was helpless to escape.
“This is too bad,” said the machine. “I ought to have run six hours lon-ger, at least, but I sup-pose my long walk and my fight with the Wheel-ers made me run down fast-er than us-u-al.”
“Well, it can’t be helped,” said Dorothy, with a sigh.
“Will you exchange heads with me?” demanded the Princess.
“No, indeed!” cried Dorothy.
“Then lock her up,” said Langwidere to her soldiers, and they led Dorothy to a high tower at the north of the palace and locked her securely within. The soldiers afterward tried to lift Tiktok, but they found the machine so solid and heavy that they could not stir it. So they left him standing in the center of the drawing-room.
“People will think I have a new statue,” said Langwidere, “so it won’t matter in the least, and Nanda can keep him well polished.”
“What shall we do with the hen?” asked the colonel, who had just discovered Billina in the work-basket.
“Put her in the chicken-house,” answered the Princess. “Some day I’ll have her fried for breakfast.”
“She looks rather tough, Your Highness,” said Nanda, doubtfully.
“That is a base slander!” cried Billina, struggling frantically in the colonel’s arms. “But the breed of chickens I come from is said to be poison to all princesses.”
“Then,” remarked Langwidere, “I will not fry the hen, but keep her to lay eggs; and if she doesn’t do her duty I’ll have her drowned in the horse trough.”