|
My friends the children are responsible for this new “Oz
Book,” as they were for the last one, which was called The
Land of Oz. Their sweet little letters plead to know “more
about Dorothy”; and they ask: “What became of the
Cowardly Lion?” and “What did Ozma do
afterward?”—meaning, of course, after she became the
Ruler of Oz. And some of them suggest plots to me, saying:
“Please have Dorothy go to the Land of Oz again”; or,
“Why don’t you make Ozma and Dorothy meet, and have a
good time together?” Indeed, could I do all that my little
friends ask, I would be obliged to write dozens of books to satisfy
their demands. And I wish I could, for I enjoy writing these
stories just as much as the children say they enjoy reading
them.
Well, here is “more about Dorothy,” and about our
old friends the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, and about the
Cowardly Lion, and Ozma, and all the rest of them; and here,
likewise, is a good deal about some new folks that are queer and
unusual. One little friend, who read this story before it was
printed, said to me: “Billina is REAL OZZY, Mr. Baum, and so
are Tiktok and the Hungry Tiger.”
If this judgment is unbiased and correct, and the little folks
find this new story “real Ozzy,” I shall be very glad
indeed that I wrote it. But perhaps I shall get some more of those
very welcome letters from my readers, telling me just how they like
“Ozma of Oz.” I hope so, anyway.
L. FRANK BAUM.
MACATAWA, 1907.
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.”
|
