Handy Mandy Learns about Oz!
Handy, who had climbed up and down mountains all her life, reached the
top of the gorge first and with her various hands tugged Nox up the
last steep incline.
"So--this is the Gillikin Country!" panted the Goat Girl, staring away
over the heather covered Highlands. "Now about the natives, do they
spin, bounce or tumble?"
"That, I really couldn't say," gasped Nox, leaning against a tree to
regain his wind, "but as you can see, my girl, all the hills, trees and
vegetation shade from violet to purple. Lovely color, purple!"
"I suppose purple would appeal to a Royal Ox like you." Resting her
hands on her hips, Handy Mandy squinted critically about her. "Now as
for me, I prefer the more cheerful colors, red, yellow or green, for
instance."
"Then you'd like the Quadling and Winkie Countries," murmured Nox,
nibbling languidly at the tops of the heather, "or the Emerald City. We
have all color countries in Oz and a body can take his choice."
"Oh, we'll just take them as they come," decided the Goat Girl
sensibly, "or at least, till we find your young Master and this Silver
Mountain. But tell me, Nox, is each country in Oz a different color and
is there really an Emerald City?" Moving slowly through the heather the
Royal Ox nodded his lordly head.
"Take that stick," he directed, coming to a ponderous stop, "and I'll
show you how Oz looks. See, on that level bit of sand there, just draw
an oblong." Quite interested, Handy marked out an oblong with the point
of the stick. "Connect the corners," breathed the Ox, lifting his
forefoot complacently, "and what have you?"
"Four triangles," answered the Goat Girl promptly.
"Put a circle in the center where all the triangles meet." Nox fairly
radiated pride and importance as his geozophy lesson progressed.
"Then what?" demanded Handy, the stick upraised in her rubber hand.
"That's all!" Tossing back his horns, the Ox surveyed his pupil
triumphantly. "Simple, isn't it? That triangle on the west is the blue
Munchkin Country we have just left, the triangle to the north is the
purple Gillikin Country we are just entering. Over there on the east,
we have the Yellow empire of the Winkies and to the south the red
lands of the Quadlings. In the circle is the Emerald City of Oz, and
surrounding the whole Kingdom is a deadly desert of burning sand."
"My--y!" marveled the Goat Girl, clasping all her hands but one behind
her back, "the desert I crossed when I fell in Keretaria?"
"Of course," answered Nox, snapping lazily at a purple dragon fly.
"Mt. Mern must lie to the west of Oz, on the other side of the deadly
desert. There are many countries beyond the desert, but I know very
little about them as there are only Oz maps in the castle at home."
"Then I suppose the King of Keretaria is King of the Munchkins?" said
Handy, looking thoughtfully down at her map.
"Oh, my, no!" The Royal Ox positively chuckled at such an idea.
"Keretaria is just one of the small countries of the West. Cheeriobed
is King of the Munchkins and he lives in the Sapphire City seventy
leagues below our southernmost borderline. Glinda, the Good Sorceress,
rules all the small Kingdoms in the Quadling Country, the Tin Woodman
of Oz is Emperor of the Winkies and Jo King governs the Gillikins.
Besides these, there are Kings, Queens and Princes galore, but most
important of all is Ozma, the young Fairy who lives in the Emerald
City, for Ozma is supreme sovereign of the entire Kingdom of Oz."
"Dear--ear what a lot to remember," groaned the Goat Girl. "And all
these other Kings and Queens have to do what Ozma says? However does
she keep track of them all? I'll bet they're worse than a flock of
goats."
"Oh, she manages," said the Ox, beginning to move slowly forward.
"Being a fairy and having a wizard right in her own castle, Ozma knows
what is going on without even turning her head."
"Even where we are going?" exclaimed Handy Mandy indignantly.
"Hi--yi--what a little busy-body. I just know I won't like her."
"Well, in that case she will just have to give up her throne and throw
her crown out of the window, I suppose! Better have a care, m'lass,
you're speaking of a powerful fairy, you know." Nox looked so stern
as he went plowing through the heather, Handy began to feel a little
uneasy herself.
"But how could a fairy in the center of Oz see way off here?" she
demanded scornfully.
"Magic, that's how!" explained Nox, looking very calm and superior.
"In her castle Ozma has a magic picture that shows her everything she
wishes to see."
"I don't believe it," scoffed the Goat Girl, swinging all her arms
recklessly, "and besides, why would she wish to see us and this
particular piece of country at this particular minute?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said the Royal Ox haughtily. "But I do say, be
careful. There, what did I tell you!" Framed in the woodwork of a small
summer-house they were approaching was a large poster.
"You are now in the Land of Oz," stated the poster, pleasantly enough.
"Be good to us and we'll be good to you. Keep our laws and practice
no magic, either for good or evil. By order of Her Imperial Highness,
Queen Ozma of Oz." Below was the bright green seal of Oz and a picture
of its pretty dark haired ruler.
"Why she's nothing but a little girl!" cried Handy, positively aghast
at such a state of affairs. "How could a little mite like that rule a
whole country and be so bossy?"
"Oh, hush!" begged Nox, rolling his eyes anxiously. "Mite or not, Ozma
is a mighty powerful and important fairy."
"Well, we're pretty important ourselves," sniffed the Goat Girl,
squinting at the poster with all her arms akimbo. "And besides," Handy
lifted her chin defiantly, "we've broken the law already when we used
your gold horn of plenty. 'Practice no magic.' Hoh! What does she
expect us to do with good magic right at hand--starve? But, ho ho! We
can get around that, old Toggins. After all, we are not practicing
magic, we don't have to practice it--our magic is perfect, so put that
in your pipe and smoke it Miss Ozma to Bozma." Snatching up a rock in
each of her seven hands, Handy flung them hilariously over a clump of
prune trees. (Yes, prunes already wrinkled grow in the Land of Oz.)
There was an uncomfortable little silence after Handy's rash outburst,
then a perfect tempest of shrieks and screeches.
"Now, see what you've done," gulped the Ox, switching his tail
nervously. "Quick, quick, jump on my back and we'll rush by. These
chaps look dangerous."
"Why, they have HOOK noses!" sputtered Handy, too startled to move, as
a band of kilted Highlanders came racing down toward them. The noses
of these singular Hill-men were long and thin, curving out and up far
above their foreheads. On these hooks hung dangerous looking rings
almost as large as barrel hoops. While Handy was wondering what they
could be for, the nearest Hooker pulled a ring from his nose and flung
it with all his might at her head.
"Up. UP!" bellowed Nox, pawing the ground in his agitation. "Are you
going to stand there till you are pegged like a top?" The iron ring
missed Handy by mere inches and grasping Nox's horn she pulled herself
to his back. There were about sixty of the hook noses, and swinging
to the left, Nox tried to skirt the war-like tribe, but they were too
quick for him, and spreading out in a long line they began hurling
their wicked whizzing weapons. One caught neatly on the horn of the
Royal Ox, another hit Handy a horrid blow on the knee, and as Nox,
snorting and furious turned to run, a dozen more came whanging down
about their ears. Dodging left and right, Handy Mandy leaned forward
and began to unscrew Nox's right horn.
"'Be good to us and we'll be good to you!' HOH! Like fun you will!"
muttered the Goat Girl, catching six of the flying missiles in her
clever hands and tossing them back with all her might. "Take that and
these and them and THOSE!" Pulling off the Ox's horn with the only
hand she had left, she added desperately, "I wish a barrel of molasses
over the head of each Hook Nose in this band. Cats, Bats and Billy
Goats! They've GOT me!" And they had, too, for just as Handy finished
her wish, down flashed an iron ring pinioning her arms tightly to her
sides. Still grasping the precious horn, Handy dug her heels into Nox.
"Hurt?" grunted the Ox, leaping forward.
"Not hurt, just hooked and humiliated, can't move a muscle," raged the
Goat Girl. "But ha ha! Neither can they! LOOK!" Nox, who had been
bellowing too hard to hear Handy's wish or miss his horn glanced back
hurriedly.
"Why! What's come over them?" he wheezed in astonishment. "Who snuffed
them out with barrels and what's that sticky fluid running all around?"
"Molasses," Handy told him with extreme satisfaction as she tried
vainly to wriggle out of her ring. "I wished barrels of molasses on
their heads and we'd better dash on while they're stopped and stuck
with it."
"Then you've been breaking the law again," reproached Nox, dodging in
and out and around their frantic enemies.
"Well, as between broken heads and broken laws, I choose the
laws. Besides, look what they did to me!" exclaimed the Goat Girl
indignantly. "I may never get this hoop off or be able to lift a hand
again. Nice people you have in Oz, I must say."
"If you hadn't hit them with stones, they wouldn't have hit us with
hoops," Nox reminded her sternly, at the same time breaking into a
gallop to put as much distance as possible between himself and the
troublesome Gillikins. A few had managed to lift the barrels from their
heads, but most of them were rolling over and over on the ground, half
choked with rage and molasses.
"When we stop I think I can help you," promised Nox, looking anxiously
at Handy, who was now quite purple in the face from her struggles with
the hoop. "Just forget it, can't you, and think of the interesting
people we are meeting. I'll wager you have no hook noses on Mt. Mern!"
"I should say NOT!" sputtered the Goat Girl in disgust, and then
realizing she was making no progress with the ring, sensibly gave up
the attempt to free herself. Somewhat comforted by the thought that
the Hook Noses were probably as uncomfortable as she was, Handy kept a
sharp lookout for natives. If they ran into any more she wanted to be
sure of seeing them first.
But the rocky hills and glades were entirely deserted and at every step
the way became more mountainous and lonely. Nox, panting and wheezing
from the long pull, slackened his pace to a walk. Handy Mandy with some
difficulty managed to dismount, and the Ox slipping his horn under the
offending ring, gently forced it upward till the Goat Girl was able
to wiggle free. Then together they climbed up the flinty inclines--up
and up till they came to a wide ledge and a sparkling waterfall. Here
they had a drink without having to wish for one, Nox sticking his head
right into the water and Handy cupping three pairs of her hands to hold
enough to satisfy her thirst.
"Ho hum," sighed the Ox, "I wonder how much farther we'll have to go
before we can find anyone who can direct us to this Silver Mountain?
I'm sure I saw some castles when we were below."
"So did I," said Handy, screwing his right horn back with a
businesslike flourish. "My--y, seems a long time since we started from
Keretaria. Do you suppose they have missed us yet?"
"Probably," yawned the Ox, scratching his back against a rock, while
Handy, suddenly deciding she needed another drink, stepped close to the
waterfall. But instead of quenching her thirst, the Goat Girl spilled
water all over her feet.
"Nox! Nox!" she screamed, jerking all her thumbs in his direction.
"Come! Look here! There's a big hollow behind this waterfall--a high
wall of rock with a door in it! I can see it!"
"Well," sniffed the Ox, rubbing his back luxuriously, "does it say
'come in'? Must we try every door we come to?"
"Yes," Handy Mandy told him firmly, "we must! Where there's a door
there's bound to be a door-keeper or at least someone who might tell us
where we are. Now then, I'll jump through the waterfall first and knock
on the door. There wouldn't be room for you on the ledge until the door
is open."
"Sounds risky!" objected the Royal Ox, putting back his ears. "What
kind of people would live behind a waterfall? Ask yourself that." But
the Goat Girl, without stopping to ask herself anything, had already
plunged through the misty sheet of water, and gasping and spluttering
was hammering on the door with all seven of her fists.