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:
“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, eyeing 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.”