THE LOST PRINCESS OF OZ
by L. FRANK BAUM
This Book is Dedicated
To My Granddaughter
OZMA BAUM
To My Readers
Some of my youthful readers are developing wonderful imaginations. This
pleases me. Imagination has brought mankind through the Dark Ages to
its present state of civilization. Imagination led Columbus to discover
America. Imagination led Franklin to discover electricity. Imagination
has given us the steam engine, the telephone, the talking-machine and
the automobile, for these things had to be dreamed of before they
became realities. So I believe that dreams—day dreams, you know, with
your eyes wide open and your brain-machinery whizzing—are likely to
lead to the betterment of the world. The imaginative child will become
the imaginative man or woman most apt to create, to invent, and
therefore to foster civilization. A prominent educator tells me that
fairy tales are of untold value in developing imagination in the young.
I believe it.
Among the letters I receive from children are many containing
suggestions of “what to write about in the next Oz Book.” Some of the
ideas advanced are mighty interesting, while others are too extravagant
to be seriously considered—even in a fairy tale. Yet I like them all,
and I must admit that the main idea in “The Lost Princess of Oz” was
suggested to me by a sweet little girl of eleven who called to see me
and to talk about the Land of Oz. Said she: “I s’pose if Ozma ever got
lost, or stolen, ev’rybody in Oz would be dreadful sorry.”
That was all, but quite enough foundation to build this present story
on. If you happen to like the story, give credit to my little friend’s
clever hint.
L. Frank Baum
Royal Historian of Oz
LIST OF CHAPTERS
Chapter 1 A Terrible Loss
Chapter 2 The Troubles of Glinda the Good
Chapter 3 The Robbery of Cayke the Cookie Cook
Chapter 4 Among the Winkies
Chapter 5 Ozma’s Friends Are Perplexed
Chapter 6 The Search Party
Chapter 7 The Merry-Go-Round Mountains
Chapter 8 The Mysterious City
Chapter 9 The High Coco-Lorum of Thi
Chapter 10 Toto Loses Something
Chapter 11 Button-Bright Loses Himself
Chapter 12 The Czarover of Herku
Chapter 13 The Truth Pond
Chapter 14 The Unhappy Ferryman
Chapter 15 The Big Lavender Bear
Chapter 16 The Little Pink Bear
Chapter 17 The Meeting
Chapter 18 The Conference
Chapter 19 Ugu the Shoemaker
Chapter 20 More Surprises
Chapter 21 Magic Against Magic
Chapter 22 In the Wicker Castle
Chapter 23 The Defiance of Ugu the Shoemaker
Chapter 24 The Little Pink Bear Speaks Truly
Chapter 25 Ozma of Oz
Chapter 26 Dorothy Forgives
THE LOST PRINCESS
CHAPTER 1
A TERRIBLE LOSS
There could be no doubt of the fact: Princess Ozma, the lovely girl
ruler of the Fairyland of Oz, was lost. She had completely disappeared.
Not one of her subjects—not even her closest friends—knew what had
become of her. It was Dorothy who first discovered it. Dorothy was a
little Kansas girl who had come to the Land of Oz to live and had been
given a delightful suite of rooms in Ozma’s royal palace just because
Ozma loved Dorothy and wanted her to live as near her as possible so
the two girls might be much together.
Dorothy was not the only girl from the outside world who had been
welcomed to Oz and lived in the royal palace. There was another named
Betsy Bobbin, whose adventures had led her to seek refuge with Ozma,
and still another named Trot, who had been invited, together with her
faithful companion Cap’n Bill, to make her home in this wonderful
fairyland. The three girls all had rooms in the palace and were great
chums; but Dorothy was the dearest friend of their gracious Ruler and
only she at any hour dared to seek Ozma in her royal apartments. For
Dorothy had lived in Oz much longer than the other girls and had been
made a Princess of the realm.
Betsy was a year older than Dorothy and Trot was a year younger, yet
the three were near enough of an age to become great playmates and to
have nice times together. It was while the three were talking together
one morning in Dorothy’s room that Betsy proposed they make a journey
into the Munchkin Country, which was one of the four great countries of
the Land of Oz ruled by Ozma. “I’ve never been there yet,” said Betsy
Bobbin, “but the Scarecrow once told me it is the prettiest country in
all Oz.”
“I’d like to go, too,” added Trot.
“All right,” said Dorothy. “I’ll go and ask Ozma. Perhaps she will let
us take the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon, which would be much nicer for
us than having to walk all the way. This Land of Oz is a pretty big
place when you get to all the edges of it.”
So she jumped up and went along the halls of the splendid palace until
she came to the royal suite, which filled all the front of the second
floor. In a little waiting room sat Ozma’s maid, Jellia Jamb, who was
busily sewing. “Is Ozma up yet?” inquired Dorothy.
“I don’t know, my dear,” replied Jellia. “I haven’t heard a word from
her this morning. She hasn’t even called for her bath or her breakfast,
and it is far past her usual time for them.”
“That’s strange!” exclaimed the little girl.
“Yes,” agreed the maid, “but of course no harm could have happened to
her. No one can die or be killed in the Land of Oz, and Ozma is herself
a powerful fairy, and she has no enemies so far as we know. Therefore I
am not at all worried about her, though I must admit her silence is
unusual.”
“Perhaps,” said Dorothy thoughtfully, “she has overslept. Or she may be
reading or working out some new sort of magic to do good to her
people.”
“Any of these things may be true,” replied Jellia Jamb, “so I haven’t
dared disturb our royal mistress. You, however, are a privileged
character, Princess, and I am sure that Ozma wouldn’t mind at all if
you went in to see her.”
“Of course not,” said Dorothy, and opening the door of the outer
chamber, she went in. All was still here. She walked into another room,
which was Ozma’s boudoir, and then, pushing back a heavy drapery richly
broidered with threads of pure gold, the girl entered the sleeping-room
of the fairy Ruler of Oz. The bed of ivory and gold was vacant; the
room was vacant; not a trace of Ozma was to be found.
Very much surprised, yet still with no fear that anything had happened
to her friend, Dorothy returned through the boudoir to the other rooms
of the suite. She went into the music room, the library, the
laboratory, the bath, the wardrobe, and even into the great throne
room, which adjoined the royal suite, but in none of these places could
she find Ozma.
So she returned to the anteroom where she had left the maid, Jellia
Jamb, and said:
“She isn’t in her rooms now, so she must have gone out.”
“I don’t understand how she could do that without my seeing her,”
replied Jellia, “unless she made herself invisible.”
“She isn’t there, anyhow,” declared Dorothy.
“Then let us go find her,” suggested the maid, who appeared to be a
little uneasy. So they went into the corridors, and there Dorothy
almost stumbled over a queer girl who was dancing lightly along the
passage.
“Stop a minute, Scraps!” she called, “Have you seen Ozma this morning?”
“Not I!” replied the queer girl, dancing nearer. “I lost both my eyes
in a tussle with the Woozy last night, for the creature scraped ’em
both off my face with his square paws. So I put the eyes in my pocket,
and this morning Button-Bright led me to Aunt Em, who sewed ’em on
again. So I’ve seen nothing at all today, except during the last five
minutes. So of course I haven’t seen Ozma.”
“Very well, Scraps,” said Dorothy, looking curiously at the eyes, which
were merely two round, black buttons sewed upon the girl’s face.
There were other things about Scraps that would have seemed curious to
one seeing her for the first time. She was commonly called “the
Patchwork Girl” because her body and limbs were made from a gay-colored
patchwork quilt which had been cut into shape and stuffed with cotton.
Her head was a round ball stuffed in the same manner and fastened to
her shoulders. For hair, she had a mass of brown yarn, and to make a
nose for her a part of the cloth had been pulled out into the shape of
a knob and tied with a string to hold it in place. Her mouth had been
carefully made by cutting a slit in the proper place and lining it with
red silk, adding two rows of pearls for teeth and a bit of red flannel
for a tongue.
In spite of this queer make-up, the Patchwork Girl was magically alive
and had proved herself not the least jolly and agreeable of the many
quaint characters who inhabit the astonishing Fairyland of Oz. Indeed,
Scraps was a general favorite, although she was rather flighty and
erratic and did and said many things that surprised her friends. She
was seldom still, but loved to dance, to turn handsprings and
somersaults, to climb trees and to indulge in many other active sports.
“I’m going to search for Ozma,” remarked Dorothy, “for she isn’t in her
rooms, and I want to ask her a question.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Scraps, “for my eyes are brighter than yours,
and they can see farther.”
“I’m not sure of that,” returned Dorothy. “But come along, if you
like.”
Together they searched all through the great palace and even to the
farthest limits of the palace grounds, which were quite extensive, but
nowhere could they find a trace of Ozma. When Dorothy returned to where
Betsy and Trot awaited her, the little girl’s face was rather solemn
and troubled, for never before had Ozma gone away without telling her
friends where she was going, or without an escort that befitted her
royal state. She was gone, however, and none had seen her go. Dorothy
had met and questioned the Scarecrow, Tik-Tok, the Shaggy Man,
Button-Bright, Cap’n Bill, and even the wise and powerful Wizard of Oz,
but not one of them had seen Ozma since she parted with her friends the
evening before and had gone to her own rooms.
“She didn’t say anything las’ night about going anywhere,” observed
little Trot.
“No, and that’s the strange part of it,” replied Dorothy. “Usually Ozma
lets us know of everything she does.”
“Why not look in the Magic Picture?” suggested Betsy Bobbin. “That will
tell us where she is in just one second.”
“Of course!” cried Dorothy. “Why didn’t I think of that before?” And at
once the three girls hurried away to Ozma’s boudoir, where the Magic
Picture always hung. This wonderful Magic Picture was one of the royal
Ozma’s greatest treasures. There was a large gold frame in the center
of which was a bluish-gray canvas on which various scenes constantly
appeared and disappeared. If one who stood before it wished to see what
any person anywhere in the world was doing, it was only necessary to
make the wish and the scene in the Magic Picture would shift to the
scene where that person was and show exactly what he or she was then
engaged in doing. So the girls knew it would be easy for them to wish
to see Ozma, and from the picture they could quickly learn where she
was.
Dorothy advanced to the place where the picture was usually protected
by thick satin curtains and pulled the draperies aside. Then she stared
in amazement, while her two friends uttered exclamations of
disappointment.
The Magic Picture was gone. Only a blank space on the wall behind the
curtains showed where it had formerly hung.