The Capture of the Emerald City
In that delightful hour before dinner, when it is too early to go in
and light the lamps and too late to go for another picnic or swim,
it is a pleasant custom in Ozma's palace to gather in the garden for
games. Almost any fine evening at dusk, if you were to peep over the
wall of the green castle, you would see all the celebrities and most
of the courtiers playing hop scotch or prisoner's base. The ruler of
Oz, as most of you know, is a little girl fairy and Ozma is quite as
fond of fun and good times as you are. Dorothy, Betsy and Trot, Ozma's
best friends and advisers are little girls too, so that life in the
Emerald City is bound to be interesting and gay. And how could it be
otherwise, with so many unusual and amusing people living in the palace?
The Scarecrow spends most of his time there, though he has a splendid
residence of his own, and for fun and good comradeship there is no one
like this jolly straw-stuffed gentleman. He was lifted from a pole and
brought to the Emerald City by Dorothy on her first journey to Oz.
Dorothy, herself, was blown to Oz in a cyclone and has had so much fun
and so many adventures that she would not think of living anywhere
else. Betsy and Trot are from the United States, too, but prefer life
in the Emerald City to life in America, as indeed I should myself.
Almost everybody has heard of Tik Tok, the copper man. Tik Tok is not
alive, but very lively and when properly wound can walk, talk and run
as well as anybody.
Justly famous, is the Tin Woodman. Whole books have been written about
him, for Nick Chopper is Emperor of the Winkies and almost any child
in Oz can tell you the strange story of Nick and the enchanted ax that
chopped off his arms and legs, severed his trunk and finally chopped
off his head. After each accident, Nick had himself repaired by a tin
smith, till he was entirely a man of tin, and like the Scarecrow he
spends more than half his time in the capitol. Then we must not forget
Sir Hokus, a real Knight, who was rescued after seven centuries of
imprisonment in Pokes. Now where, but in Oz, could a Knight last for
seven centuries, and be so spry, so bold and so full of interesting
stories? Where, but in Oz, could one find a Wizard able to whisk one
about with magic wishing pills and conjure up Ozcream and pop-overs by
a mere puff of magic powder?
Another prime favorite in the palace is Scraps. Made from an old
patchwork quilt and magically brought to life, Scraps adds a touch of
fun and gaiety to all the palace parties, for Scraps is wholly without
dignity and can think up verses faster than little boys can think up
excuses. The Soldier with the Green Whiskers is a fine fellow, too.
He is the whole grand army of Oz, and though not very brave has such
a splendid uniform and long shining green beard, just to look at him
gives one pleasure and satisfaction. Recently a live statue and a
medicine man have come to Ozma's court. The medicine man's chest is
a real medicine chest, full of helpful remedies and although no one
in the Emerald City ever falls ill Ozma has graciously conferred upon
Herby the title of Court Doctor. Add to all of these famous characters
the Cowardly Lion, the Hungry Tiger and a dozen other strange pets,
fifty or more splendid courtiers and servants and you will have a fair
idea of the merry company romping in the garden on this early evening
in May.
Dorothy had just won an exciting foot race and sinking into a green
hammock called gaily to the Scarecrow, "Let's play blind-man's buff
and blind-fold everyone but Betsy Bobbin. Then we'll all try to find
her and first one who does shall have three pieces of strawberry short
cake!"
"A lot of good that will do me," sighed the Scarecrow, patting his
straw stuffed stomach, "but if I win, you shall have my cake, Dorothy."
"You'll never win," teased Betsy, beginning to hop up and down with
impatience. "None of you will. Remember now, Wizard, no fair using
magic to find me."
"Haven't a bit of magic with me. My black bag's inside," laughed the
little Wizard of Oz, fitting a big green handkerchief around his
head. In less than a minute, Ozma and everyone in the garden was
blind-folded. Even the Cowardly Lion had Dorothy's hair ribbon tied
securely over his eyes.
"All ready," called Betsy, and tip-toeing over to an enormous butterfly
bush, she climbed into the center and sat still as a mouse. But the
others were very far from still. With shouts, screams and little roars
of merriment they ran to and fro, bumping into each other and throwing
their arms around trees and statues and making so much noise that
they never heard the tramp of feet on the other side of the wall. For
Mogodore had at last arrived in the Emerald City, and with a rush and
without opposition, captured the famous fairy capitol. At sight of his
spearmen, the peaceful inhabitants fled into their houses and slammed
windows and doors. Unk Nunkie, a brave old Munchkin who had started
on a run to warn the people in the palace, was caught by Bragga, tied
up securely and carelessly tossed into a greenberry bush. Shirley
Sunshine, who had leaped from her horse for the very same reason, was
overtaken and put under guard.
[Illustration: _With shouts, screams, and little roars of merriment,
they ran to and fro._]
"A fine way to help," muttered Mogodore, shaking his finger at her
accusingly. "What were you about Princess?"
"I was anxious to see the castle," stuttered poor Shirley, twisting her
handkerchief miserably.
"You'll see it soon enough," promised Mogodore. "Just wait till I've
conquered this silly little fairy." About forty paces from the castle
itself Mogodore dismounted and called a council of war. Leaving five
hundred men to hold the city he took five hundred with him to storm the
palace and overcome the famous celebrities whom he had read about so
often. Shirley Sunshine was left behind until the fighting should be
over. Mogodore and his five hundred picked soldiers marched boldly upon
the castle.
"High time for a new King here," sniffed Mogodore scornfully. "A city
without defenses! No army! No guards! What can they expect but capture?"
"There may be an army inside the castle walls," warned Wagarag, jogging
wearily along at the baron's elbow. "Before we rush the gates we had
better look about a bit and see that everything is safe."
"Very good," grunted Mogodore, taking a pinch of snuff. "You and I will
go forward. The others may remain here. My spear tossed into the air
will be the signal for them to advance." It was a short walk to the
walls of the palace, and hoisting himself with great gasps and puffs
the Baron of Baffleburg raised his head cautiously over the top of
the wall and looked down into the royal gardens. What he saw astonished
him exceedingly, and with a soundless chuckle he dropped to the ground.
"The silly dunces are playing a game," whispered Mogodore to his
trembling steward. "They're blind-folded and all we have to do is to
jump over the wall and seize them."
Tossing his spear into the air, Mogodore waited impatiently for his men
and when they came hurrying forward, he raised his hand for silence.
"Drop over the wall, one at a time, join in this game of blind-man's
buff. Each man take one prisoner and tie him to the nearest tree. When
all are taken, I will march into the palace, seize the crown jewels
and magic belt and proclaim myself King of Oz. All ready." With only a
slight scraping of boots on the stones, Mogodore and his men slipped
over the wall and into the garden. Betsy Bobbin, sitting breathlessly
in the center of the butterfly bush, became suddenly aware of a change
in the gay uproar around her. The joyous shouts and good natured
exclamations turned to frightened screams and indignant protests and
finally to loud shouts for help.
"What can have happened?" gasped Betsy, poking her head out of the
bush. What she saw, as you can well imagine, made her sink back in
a faint heap. The garden was swarming with armed warriors and Ozma
and all of her friends and courtiers were tied to the trees with gold
chains and struggling in vain to free themselves.
"I am the only one left," panted Betsy. "I must try to slip out
unnoticed and get the magic belt!" In this famous belt, as most of you
know, there is such power that the wearer can transform anyone to any
shape at all. "I'll turn them to old shoes and door knobs," sobbed
Betsy, with another frightened peek out of the bush. The chances of
her reaching the palace were slim indeed and finally she gave up all
hope, but she could not help feeling proud of the way Ozma of Oz was
conducting herself.
"What does this mean?" demanded the little fairy, tearing the bandage
from her eyes and stamping her foot as well as she could with so many
chains around her ankles. "Who are you and what do you want? Release us
at once, or my Wizard and my Army will destroy you!"
"Ho! Ho! ho!" roared Mogodore, looking cheerfully down at the furious
Princess. "Hand over the keys of the castle my dear, for you are
completely conquered and absolutely captured. I, Mogodore the Mighty
and Baron of Baffleburg, am the future King of Oz!"
"I'll crown you with my fist," sputtered Sir Hokus, tugging at his
chains till the tree he was tied to rocked as if by a tempest. "I'll
thump thee on the bean." (Sir Hokus has picked up a lot of slang
from Trot and Betsy Bobbin and mixes it fluently with his knightly
conversation).
"We'll change you to a fritter,
We'll fry you in a pan,
You rude uncultured critter----,
Do you call yourself a man?"
yelled Scraps defiantly, and all the other celebrities joined their
voices to hers, till the din was so dreadful that even Betsy had to
cover her ears. But it had no effect upon Mogodore. Quite calmly he
continued to gaze down at Ozma and the longer he looked the broader
grew his ugly grin.
"A little beauty," he mumbled half to himself, "prettier far than this
Shirley Sunshine. I shall marry Princess Ozma," he shouted, suddenly
clapping Wagarag so heartily upon the back that the poor steward's iron
pot helmet fell over one eye. "Into the palace, fellow, and prepare a
feast for the wedding! Farewell for the moment, slaves!"
[Illustration: _"A little beauty," he mumbled, "far prettier than
Shirley Sunshine."_]
Shaking his spear at the furiously struggling Ozites, Mogodore tramped
off to the palace, followed by two hundred and fifty of his men. The
others he left to watch the prisoners, and Betsy continued to crouch
uncomfortably in the butterfly bush. As the Baron of Baffleburg strode
into the castle, Ozma began to speak quietly and comfortingly to her
people.
"For the moment," sighed the little sovereign sadly, "we are
overpowered and at the mercy of these rude ruffians. But let us be
patient and brave and surely some help will come to us."
"I hope there will be no shooting," quavered the Soldier with the Green
Whiskers, trembling so his chains rattled dismally.
"If I only had my black bag," fumed the Wizard, trying desperately to
free himself. From the screams and crashes indoors, the anxious company
in the garden knew that the servants were being overpowered. Presently
a long file of them came out between two lines of Mogodore's men, who
marched them to a small summer house and carefully locked them in.
"I hope they don't find the magic belt," breathed Dorothy, wriggling
into a more comfortable position and trying to smile reassuringly at
the Scarecrow who was tied to the next tree. But even while Dorothy
was hoping, out dashed Mogodore waving the belt. His helmet had been
removed and Ozma's small emerald crown perched ridiculously upon the
top of his head.
"I beg that your Majesty will be careful," cried Wagarag, running
anxiously after the excited baron. "Remember that belt is very
powerful, very dangerous. Have a care."
"I haven't a care in the world," shouted Mogodore, fastening the belt
round his arm, for it would not begin to go 'round his waist. "Am I not
a King and about to marry a fairy? Go play marbles, Waggy, and let me
alone! I am a King and if I choose can destroy this entire country."
And then as Wagarag continued to plead and beg him to be cautious he
yelled angrily, "Go, attend to the feast, you meddlesome weasel and
leave this magic to me. I shall test the powers of this belt at once.
Do you know that I can transform anyone here to anything I wish?
Begone, before I turn you to a bone and throw you to the dogs." Now
indeed did the helpless Oz folk tremble, and as Wagarag, shaking his
head sadly, backed away from his foolish master, Mogodore began to
look around the garden for someone to transform. Perhaps, because the
Patchwork Girl was the oddest and most amazing person he had ever seen,
his eye rested longest upon her.
"I command this ridiculous maiden to become a bird," called Mogodore in
a loud voice. And instantly, Scraps was a bird, an exceedingly scrappy
bird, too. Wildly flapping her patchwork wings she quickly disengaged
herself from the gold chains that bound her to the tree. Then swooping
down upon Mogodore, she snatched Ozma's crown from his head and hurled
herself into the air.
"Quick! Quick! Change her back! I knew you'd do something silly,"
groaned Wagarag, as Mogodore stared dumbly upward. "Now she'll fly off
and spread the alarm!"
"You bet I will," screeched the Patchwork Bird, and with an
ear-splitting screech she soared over the castle and disappeared.
"I told you something would happen," whispered Ozma, smiling quietly
at Dorothy. Now if Mogodore had been more practiced in magic, he would
instantly have changed Scraps into a stone and she would have dropped
heavily and helplessly to earth. But utterly confused and mortified by
the unfortunate outcome of his first transformation, the baron pushed
his steward furiously aside, rushed into the castle and slammed both
gold doors.