Ozoplaning with the Wizard of Oz
BY RUTH PLUMLY THOMPSON
Reilly & Lee edition, copyright 1939 but not renewed
Public domain
(37,358 words)

CHAPTER 1
AT HOME WITH THE WIZARD OF OZ
In his big, brightly lighted laboratory back of the throne room, the Wizard
 of Oz paced impatiently forth and back, his hands clasped tightly behind
 him. Every minute or two he would glance at the clock or dart over to peer
 out to the already-darkening garden.
"Are you sure you told them all, Jellia? Are you sure you told them
 tonight?" he asked, turning to the pretty little serving maid who was
 setting a table near the fire, for the fall evening was quite cool and
 frosty.
"Four, five, six, sevenFF20C4" Jellia, counting places, nodded her head
 firmly to answer the Wizard's question, then stepped back to regard her
 handiwork with complete satisfaction. "Oh, doesn't that tiny house in the
 center look too cute and cunningish? Real smoke coming out of the chimney,
 too. How ever did you manage it, Wiz? And having those silver slippers at
 each place for nuts and candies is just plain beautiful."
"Do you really think so?" The little Wizard positively blushed with
 pleasure. "Well, ye see, Jellia, this party is to celebrate Dorothy's first
 trip to the Emerald City. That is an exact model of the house in which she
 blew from Kansas to Oz in a cyclone, the house that fell on the Wicked
 Witch of the West and destroyed her, all but her silver slippers.
 Remember?"
"Ho, everybody remembers that," said Jellia with a toss of her head that set
 all her green cap ribbons fluttering. "If I live to be a million, I'll
 never forget the day she came to this castle with the Cowardly Lion, the
 Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman. Not if I live to be a million! Will I light
 the candles now, Wiz dear, or wait until they arrive?"
"Oh, wait till they arrive, by all means. But see here," the Wizard, taking
 a last look at the party table, was plainly distressed. "You've only seven
 places, Jellia, and there are eight of us. My idea was to have everyone
 immediately associated with Dorothy's first visit, and that would be: one,
 Dorothy herself; two, myself; three, yourself; four, the Cowardly Lion;
 five, the Scarecrow; six, the Tin Woodman; seven, the Soldier with the
 Green Whiskers; and eight, the Guardian of the Gate. Quick, my dear!
 Another plate for the Guardian of the Gate."
"He's not coming," announced Jellia primly. "He says he has not deserted his
 post for forty years and does not intend to desert it now. But if you'll
 send his refreshments to the Guard House, he'll take it very kindly. I've
 already fixed him a basket," said Jellia, smoothing her apron.
"Good old Guardy!" The Wizard absently brushed back the hair he no longer
 had, then, hearing voices and steps in the corridor, bounced over to open
 the door while Jellia tripped joyously about, lighting the candles set
 everywhere in the big workshop. Candle and fire light are so much cozier
 for parties, and it all looked so cheery and gay that Dorothy, who was
 first, stopped short in the doorway with an exclamation of delight.
"Oh, Wizard! How beautiful! Oh, how I do wish Ozma could see it all!"
"Tut tut!" chuckled the Wizard, leading her into the room. "Ozma is having a
 fine time in Glinda's palace by now. To tell the truth, Dorothy, this party
 is just for YOU and to remind us all of the old Oz days whenFF20C4"
"You were nothing but a humbug," snorted the Scarecrow, laughing so hard he
 had to lean against the door jamb.
"Don't forget he gave you your famous brains, friend." The Tin Woodman spoke
 reprovingly, for Nick Chopper did not like anyone's feelings to be hurt,
 even in fun. "And don't forget he gave me my splendid heart!"
"And me my grade A, double-distilled, instant-acting courage," purred the
 Cowardly Lion. Moving over to the fire, the big beast stretched himself
 luxuriously on the hearth rug.
"And don't forget our little Wiz was once Supreme Ruler of Oz!" boomed the
 Soldier with the Green Whiskers. Marching three times round the party
 table, the thin, immensely tall soldier brought up with a smart salute
 before their embarrassed little host.
"Three cheers for the Wizard of Oz!" cried Jellia Jam. Seizing a silver bell
 with an emerald clapper, she rang it so hard the Cowardly Lion's mane blew
 straight back, and even the candles flickered.
"Thank you! Thank you very much!" The Wizard bowed and rubbed his ear, which
 still tingled from the cheers and bell-ringing. "But where is Toto,
 Dorothy? I thought of course you'd bring your little dog."
"Oh, Toto's with Ozma," explained Dorothy, drawn in spite of herself to the
 brightly decorated party table. "You know how he dotes on traveling, so
 Ozma took him along for company."
"Then of course he cannot be here," sighed the Wizard regretfully. "Now
 Jellia, off with that cap and apron. Tonight you are my guest and not a
 maid-in-waiting to Ozma or anyone else. Dorothy, suppose you sit at the
 head. I'll sit at the foot, and the others may find their own places."
"My place will always be next to little Dorothy," rumbled the Cowardly Lion,
 hoisting himself sleepily to the chair beside the little girl.
"Mine will be next to the pickles. MM-mmmm! I LOVE pickles," said the
 Soldier, slipping into the seat next to the lion, while Jellia, with a
 purposeful bounce, settled near a plate of green cookies. There was no
 doubt where the Tin Woodman and Scarecrow would sit, for at one plate the
 Wizard had put a silver box of metal polish and an emerald bottle
 containing purest oil. Then, instead of a chair, he had provided a bale of
 freshly packed straw for the Scarecrow.
"Well, well, here we all are!" Rubbing his hands briskly, the Wizard beamed
 on his guests as Fredjon, wearing his best suit of green and silver,
 bustled in with the first course.
"And isn't it fun to be here?" Dorothy took a long, satisfying sip of her
 Ozade. "I'm awfully glad I came back to live in the Land of Oz. Aren't you,
 Wizard?"
"A country where a body grows no older, where animals talk as easily as men
 and where the practice of magic is not only possible but practical, a
 country like that has many advantages," admitted the Wizard, winking at the
 Cowardly Lion, who was drinking his fruit juice in a refined way from a
 huge, green aquarium. "I myself never have regretted the years spent in
 this marvelous fairyland. Sometimes I hardly can believe I ever did live in
 Omaha, or travel through the West with a circus."
"I know," agreed Dorothy, nodding her head slowly. "Kansas, when I think of
 it, seems very far away, as much like a dream, I suppose, as Oz seems like
 a dream to boys and girls in Kansas who read Oz history."
"Oh, why think of Kansas?" Jellia spoke scornfully. "In Kansas you were only
 an ordinary little girl, while here you are a Princess and second in
 importance to our Ruler, Ozma, herself."
"And in Kansas," observed the Scarecrow as Dorothy rather self-consciously
 straightened her crown, "I'll bet you never had as much fun or as many
 adventures as we have here." The Scarecrow, being well stuffed with straw,
 never indulged in any refreshments. In fact, he just came to parties for
 the conversation, and to be sure of a good time, he tried to do all the
 talking himself.
"That's right," said Dorothy thoughtfully, "that cyclone was about the only
 thing that ever happened in Kansas."
"A great blow to you, my dear, but a fortunate thing for Nick and me." The
 Scarecrow patted the Tin Woodman affectionately on the funnel he wore for a
 hat. "If you had not blown to Oz, I'd probably still be hanging on a pole
 in that cornfield, and Nick would be rusting away his life in the
 greenwood."
"And in some ways," mused Dorothy, looking dreamily at the model of her
 small Kansas house, "in some ways that first adventure always will seem
 best. Just imagine how surprised I was to blow all those miles and find
 myself in a strange, wonderful country like Oz. The Munchkins thought I was
 a sorceress because my house had killed the Wicked Witch of the East. Then
 the Good Witch of the North told me to put on her silver shoes and go to
 the Emerald City to ask the great OZ to send me home. And on the way I
 discovered you, and do you remember how astonished I was when I lifted you
 down from your pole and found you really were alive and could talk?"
The Scarecrow nodded cheerfully.
"And remember how we traveled on together till we found the Tin Woodman?"
 went on Dorothy. "And Nick told us about the witch who had enchanted his
 axe so that it chopped off a leg here and an arm there, and finally his
 head and body, too. And after each accident he'd go to a tinsmith who made
 him new tin arms and legs and finally even a body and a head. You didn't
 mind being Tin at all, did you, Nick? Except that day you went out to chop
 wood and left your oil can at home. Then that storm came up, your joints
 rusted, and you couldn't move, and there you had been, rusting and helpless
 for months!"
"But we hustled back to your hut, fetched the oil can and fixed you up in
 fine shape, didn't we, old fellow?" The Scarecrow flung his flimsy arm
 around Nick Chopper's shoulder, and the Tin Woodman, at the mere mention of
 rust, uncorked the emerald bottle and let three drops of oil slide down his
 neck.
"I never shall forget your kindness," he told them earnestly, turning his
 head first to look at Dorothy and then at the Scarecrow.
"And after that you came along so the Wizard could give you a new heart,"
 Dorothy reminded him gaily. "And right afterwards, we met the Cowardly
 Lion."
"And he was more afraid of us than we were of him," teased the Scarecrow,
 leaning across the table to give the lion a poke.
"Yes, I was just a big coward in those days," admitted the lion, blinking
 approvingly at the rare roast Fredjon had brought him instead of the
 chicken he was serving the others. "Just a great big coward! Ho, hum!"
"But not too cowardly to fight for us," said Dorothy, taking quick little
 bites of her biscuit, "and to come with us to the Emerald City."
"Oh, that was because I wanted the Wizard to give me some courage," roared
 the lion. "And weren't we surprised when we did reach the Emerald City to
 find it all built of green marble, studded with real emeralds! And remember
 how the Guardian of the Gate gave us all green specs, even me, and then led
 us up to the palace?"
"You looked awfully funny in those specs!" laughed Dorothy. "I'll never
 forget how funny!"
"But remember, it was I who carried your messages to Oz," put in the Soldier
 with Green Whiskers.
"Of course it was," said Dorothy, nodding her head quickly. "You gave us
 some splendid advice, Soldier, and Jellia showed us to the grandest rooms
 in the castle and loaned me the loveliest dresses to wear."
"I liked you from the very first!" declared Jellia, choking a bit on her
 seventh cooky.
"But Old Man Wizzy wouldn't give us a thing!" said the Scarecrow, waving his
 napkin toward the head of the table. "He told us we'd have to kill the
 Witch of the West before he'd send Dorothy home or grant any of our
 requests."
"But you see, I didn't know any real magic then." The Wizard looked quite
 unhappy, for he did not like to remember the time before he was a $$real&&
 Wizard. "And besides, I needed more time."
"Ho ho! You were doing very well for yourself!" chuckled the Scarecrow.
 "Living in a splendid castle and having the whole country eating out of
 your hand. As it happened, we did kill the witch of the West, or at least
 Dorothy melted her with a bucket of water, and the Winkies were so tickled
 they gave us all presents and made Nick their Emperor. So when we got back
 at last, you did give me some brand-new brains, and Nick a red plush
 heartFF20C4"
"And me some real red, true-blue courage," grinned the Cowardly Lion, wiping
 his mouth delicately with the tip of his tail.
"And you made me Ruler of OZ! Ah! My Majesty the Scarecrow, Hah, those were
 the days!" The Scarecrow thumped his pudgy chest and fairly glowed at the
 memory.
"You would have taken me back to Kansas, too, only your balloon flew away
 too fast, didn't it?" Dorothy leaned all the way across the table to pat
 the Wizard's arm.
"But don't forget it was I who told you to go to the palace of Glinda, the
 Good Sorceress of the South," interrupted the Soldier with Green Whiskers
 again.
"So we all went to Glinda's," rumbled the Cowardly Lion, half closing his
 eyes. "And Glinda told Dorothy the Witch's silver shoes would carry her
 home. And they did!" There was a little silence following the lion's last
 sentence, as if all of Dorothy's friends were recalling their sorrow at
 that first parting from their cheerful little comrade.
"But you came back," declared the Scarecrow, balancing a fork on the edge of
 his tumbler. "And so did our little Wizard."
"Well, to tell the truth, Omaha seemed rather dull after the Emerald City,"
 admitted the Wizard, motioning for Fredjon to bring on the dessert. This
 caused many admiring "Oh's" and "Ah's" when it arrived, for it was ice
 cream moulded into small Tin Woodmen, Scarecrows, Lions, and all the other
 guests. Then, out of a huge, frosted cake the footman set down before
 Dorothy, flew four little witches riding green broomsticks, straight into
 the fire.
"I tell you, it takes a real Wizard to perform a trick like that." Nick
 Chopper wagged his head solemnly. "You certainly have made progress since
 Ozma made you Chief Magician of the Realm."
"WellFF20C4" drawled the Wizard, pushing the pickle dish away from the
 Soldier with Green Whiskers, who already had eaten twenty-seven and was
 looking rather dill. "Magic is like any other science: it takes practice.
 Of course, if you are a born fairy like Ozma and the former rulers of Oz,
 working spells and charms just comes natural, like playing the piano by
 ear. But if you are not a Fairy, you must study witchcraft and sorcery as I
 have done with Glinda the Good. It only has been by continuous study and
 research that I have managed to perfect myself in the arts of wizardry."
"Well, how is wizness lately?" inquired the Scarecrow, wrinkling his cotton
 forehead at all the big words.
"Fine, just fine!" The Wizard assured him brightly. Marching over to his
 desk, he returned with a long, tube-like object resembling a seaman's
 spyglass. "This is one of my latest inventions," he confessed modestly.
 "Here, take a look." Beaming with anticipation, he pressed the spyglass
 into Dorothy's hands.

CHAPTER 2
THE WIZARD'S SPY GLASS
With the Wizard's latest invention clapped to one eye and pointed straight
 at the Wizard himself, Dorothy peered through the green glass hardly
 knowing what to expect. Certainly not what happened, for from the other end
 of the instrument a composed voice began making announcements proudly and
 impressively as a radio speaker.
"You are now looking at Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmanuel
 Ambroise Diggs," it informed them crisply. "Calls himself Oz after the
 first letters of his first two names, as his other initials spell Pinhead.
 Born in Omaha, Diggs ran away as a young man to join a circus, where he
 made balloon ascensions to amuse the crowds, his balloon bearing his
 initials, O.Z.
"One day in a storm, Oscar's balloon was carried to our wonderful Land of
 Oz. At that time, the rightful King of the Country and his son had been
 destroyed by Mombi the Witch, who also had enchanted and hidden away Ozma,
 the little Granddaughter of this unfortunate monarch. And four witches had
 divided the country between them. When the balloon bearing the name OZ on
 its side sailed out of the clouds, the inhabitants instantly hailed the
 traveler from America as their ruler, supposing him to be another member of
 the famous fairy family of Oz. Unable to return to America, Oz accepted the
 people's decision with good grace and ruled the realm for many years. Under
 his wise direction the people built this castle and the famous City of
 Emeralds; and the four witches, thinking Oz more powerful than they, did
 not question his rule or authority.
"Later, when little Dorothy from Kansas arrived in Oz, the Wizard decided to
 return with her to the United States, leaving the Scarecrow to rule in his
 place. The Scarecrow was deposed by Jinjur and her Army of Girls. Jinjur in
 turn was conquered by Glinda, the Good Witch of the South, who also forced
 Mombi to disenchant Ozma, the young and rightful girl ruler of the realm.
 Ozma has ruled over Oz ever since. Not long after Ozma was restored to her
 throne, the Wizard returned to Oz and our clever girl ruler made him Chief
 Magician of the realm. In this ancient and honorable capacity he has served
 ever since, PERIOD C4 STOP C4 DROP OR POINT ELSEWHERE!" These last words
 were uttered so rudely, Dorothy almost did drop the spyglass.
"My! MY GOODNESS!" gasped the little girl.
"It always says that when it has told all it knows. You see, it is a
 `tell-all-escope.'FF20" explained the Wizard, reaching out for his
 spyglass with an embarrassed cough.
"And it certainly tells ALL, all right!" roared the Scarecrow, pushing back
 his chair. "Congratulations, my dear Mr. Diggs!"
"Look out! Be careful! Don't you point that thing at me! $$Please&& don't!"
 The big lion simply cowered in his chair, and no wonder he felt nervous.
 There had been some pretty savage incidents in that old lion's life before
 he met Dorothy and came to live in the Emerald City as a civilized citizen
 of Oz. And the thought of the tell-all-escope telling all it knew about him
 made the Cowardly Lion positively shudder. But the others were so busy
 examining the Wizard's spyglass, they did not even notice the lion's
 terrific agitation.
"You know, a thing like that would be of great value to a traveler,"
 remarked Nick Chopper, tapping the tell-all-escope thoughtfully with his
 tin fingers.
"That's just what I figured," grinned the Wizard, thrusting the instrument
 into his pocket. "And speaking of traveling, I have something else to show
 you!" Clapping on his high hat, Ozma's Chief Magician hastened over to the
 door that opened on the garden, signaling for the others to come along.
Having had experience with inventors before, Dorothy and Jellia snatched up
 coats, Dorothy her own, and Jellia one of the Wizard's. Then, followed by
 the rest of the party, they stepped out into the sparkling, starlit
 evening. The Soldier with Green Whiskers, who had stopped to eat the last
 pickle in the dish and stuff an extra piece of cake in his pocket, came
 last of all. At each step he gave a little groan, for all by himself the
 soldier had eaten enough for a whole army. But then, he $$was&& a whole
 army; he was every single man, private, corporal, captain, major, colonel
 and general in the entire fighting force of Oz.
Anxious to exhibit his latest treasure, the Wizard walked rapidly along
 leading the little party across the park, through the Emerald City, out of
 the Gates and into the thick woodland beyond.
"Where $$do&& you suppose he is taking us?" shivered Jellia, thinking
 longingly of the cozy fire back in the laboratory.
"No knowing," giggled the Scarecrow. "But a-hunting we shall go! A-hunting
 we shall go! Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta-TAH!" Blowing an imaginary horn, the
 Scarecrow pretended to gallop and fell flat on his face, his legs never
 being what you really could call reliable.
"Sh-hh!" whispered the Wizard, looking back warningly as the Tin Woodman
 jerked the straw man to his feet. "What I am about to show you has been
 seen by no one in Oz except my faithful assistants! So please be more
 quiet!"
"You mean it's a secret?" whispered Dorothy, skipping forward to catch up
 with the Wizard and linking her arm through his.
"Two secrets!" confided Ozma's Chief Magician mysteriously. Pushing
 impatiently through the last fringe of trees, the group stepped into a
 moonlit clearing.

CHAPTER 3
LATEST INVENTION OF THE WIZARD OF OZ
"Ooooh! A conservatory!" murmured Jellia, blinking at the shining glass
 structure that occupied the entire treeless space.
"A barn, if you ask me!" guessed the Scarecrow. "But why build it of glass,
 Mr. Wiz?"
"Because glass is the latest and lightest building material known. But this
 is no barn, as you'll soon discover." Handing his flashlight to Dorothy,
 the Wizard slid back the vast doors, switched on the lights and stood back,
 his hands in his pockets, as the little group in silence and astonishment
 viewed the two shining planes housed as snugly as giant butterflies in a
 glass cocoon.
"Airplanes!" exclaimed Dorothy when she found her voice at last.
"No, Ozoplanes," corrected the Wizard, trying to keep the excitement out of
 his voice. "Somewhat like the planes in America, but more powerful, for
 remember, my dear, I had not only the scientific knowledge of aeronautics
 available to mortals, but the scientific knowledge of magic to help me as
 well!"
"Well," echoed the Tin Woodman, gazing approvingly at the Wizard's planes,
 which, except for their silver wings, might have been huge silver-and-glass
 torpedoes.
"Not for the army, I hope," exclaimed the Soldier, clutching his whiskers
 nervously. Being the entire army himself and quite old-fashioned and set in
 his ways, the Soldier felt sure he never could pilot these gleaming
 airplanes.
"On, No! No! NO!" The Wizard frowned at the mere thought of war. "These are
 pleasure planes for traveling and exploring the unknown regions of the
 upper air. As soon as Ozma returns from the South, I plan to present them
 both to our illustrious young Ruler and arrange for her to make the first
 triumphant flight."
"But there are two," said Dorothy a little wistfully. She had hoped to make
 the first flight with the Wizard herself.
"Of course, of course!" he answered in a matter-of-fact way. "Most
 experimental flights fail because they depend on $$one&& ship. We shall
 have two!"
"We?" Dorothy brightened up considerably at the Wizard's plural.
"Yes, we," repeated the Wizard, turning round to smile at the little girl.
 "Counting Ozma and those of us here, there will be eight passengers C4
 four for each plane."
"Now please don't bother about me!" begged the Cowardly Lion, his tail
 dragging on the ground at the very thought of flying. "I'd not think of
 troubling you. Besides, I'm much too heavy for flying."
"Not at all, not at all," the Wizard reassured him with a wink. "I have made
 exact calculations about weight, old fellow, and you and the Scarecrow
 balance each other nicely. So don't worry about that."
"Oh, I'm not worrying about $$that!&&" rumbled the lion, rearing up on his
 hind legs to read the names outlined in emeralds on the luminous sides of
 the Wizard's ships.
"Ozpril and Oztober!" The lion spoke in a slightly trembling roar. "Mmmn!
 Mmmnnmn! Kerumph!"
"Why, those are beautiful names," exclaimed Dorothy, tilting back her head
 to spell them out for herself.
"I thought they were rather neat," said the Wizard complacently. "Suitable,
 too, one to rise and one to fall!" Expressively, he lifted an arm and let
 it fall limply to his side.
"To C4 to fall?" quavered the lion, dropping to all fours.
"Oh, just in a figurative way, of course." The Wizard shrugged his
 shoulders. "You will observe," he went on enthusiastically, "that these
 planes need no runway or special track to take off. They really are
 balloonaplanes. Note those round packets on the top of the fuselage." The
 lion blinked rapidly, for he had no idea that fuselage meant the body of
 the plane, but the others nodded quite knowingly. "Well, those," declared
 the inventor proudly, "are my own patented balloon attachments. At the
 touch of a button, the wings are depressed and the balloon inflated with a
 magic gas, lighter than helium, that carries the ship as high and as far as
 desired. Then the balloon can be deflated, and the Ozoplane can continue
 under its own power. But you will readily see how $$my&& ship, with its
 balloon attachment, has twice the altitude possibilities of an ordinary
 airplane. Hah! We shall fly $$higher&& than higher!" boasted the little
 Wizard happily.
"Oh, quite!" agreed the Tin Woodman, mounting the ladder of the Oztober, the
 Soldier with Green Whiskers pressing nervously at his heels.
"But how will you move them out of here?" inquired the Scarecrow, taking off
 his hat and scratching his cotton head.
"Oh, as to thatFF20C4" The Wizard pulled a switch just behind him,
 whereupon the top of the glass airdrome lifted like the lid of an enormous
 jewel box.
"Hmmmn! I see!" The Scarecrow slapped his knee and grinned with
 appreciation. "Off with the roof! Up with the planes!"
"Exactly!" Seizing the Straw Man's arm, the Wizard urged him toward the
 ladder of the Ozpril, Dorothy skipping cheerfully behind them. After
 Dorothy plodded the Cowardly Lion, talking to himself in anxious whispers
 and growls.
"Be sure not to touch anything over there," called the Wizard as Nick and
 the Soldier with Green Whiskers disappeared into the cabin of the other
 plane.
"I'll keep an eye on them," promised Jellia, tripping up the ladder as
 lightly as a feather. "Don't give us a thought, Wiz dear."
"Jellia's so funny!" laughed Dorothy.
"Sensible, too," added the Wizard, helping the little girl over the high
 door sill and into the plane. While he and the Scarecrow went forward to
 examine the steering gear, Dorothy looked delightedly 'round the snug
 little cabin. There were four seats upholstered in pale green leather along
 one side. The whole top was of thick glass, through which she could
 distinctly see the moon and stars winking down at her. The side walls of
 the Ozpril were of a silvery grey, with all trimmings in green. At the back
 was a small dinette with chairs and table locked to the floors as they are
 on seagoing vessels. A cabinet full of china, a wall full of charts, a
 bookcase full of books, and a tiny kitchen and dressing room completed the
 equipment.
"It's just as cozy as a little house," sighed Dorothy contentedly as the
 Cowardly Lion, having glanced round in a discouraged way, seated himself in
 one of the green chairs and pressed his nose against the round window pane.
 "Won't we have fun, Liony, when we really get off?"
"$$Getting off&& will be the best fun of all," sniffed the lion, glancing
 briefly at the door. The Lion, as you probably have guessed, felt no
 enthusiasm for the trip. Once, much against his will, he had been carried
 to an island in the sky, and that experience had been more than enough. In
 his own mind he already had decided not to accompany the Wizard on his
 proposed flight. Yessir, when the party assembled for the trip he would
 just turn up missing and manage to stay behind. Immensely relieved by this
 secret decision, he ambled forward.
"You will notice," the Wizard was pointing out briskly, "that I have done
 away with all controls and levers. On this board are all the buttons
 necessary to operate the ship."
"Looks like an organ," observed Dorothy, squinting at the bright array of
 buttons set in the top of the table within easy reach of the first seat.
 "Must you play all those stops and starters to guide the plane?"
"Not quite all," smiled the Wizard, "but if we wished to start, first I'd
 press this green button to depress the wings and inflate our balloon. Next
 I'd push the button marked `up' and, if I decided to go North, this `North'
 button as well. Then I'd use the wheel to hold her steady, and if I
 preferred to go up in a gradual way, I'd push this button marked `zig.'FF2
0"
"And I suppose if you saw something interesting or wished to dodge a
 mountain, you'd `zag,'FF20" suggested the Scarecrow, indicating the "zag"
 button with his pudgy finger. "Or you could `spin,' `spiral' or `level
 off'C4"
"Stop! Stop!" panted the Cowardly Lion, clapping his paw to one eye. "All
 this up-zig and down-zig makes me positively giddy!"
"It does seem a little complicated," said Dorothy, looking dubiously at the
 Wizard's button-board.
"Why, it's perfectly simple!" the Wizard assured her brightly. "All you have
 to do is touch the right buttons at the right time!"
"ButFF20C4"
The Scarecrow, who had been about to ask another question, whirled round on
 one heel and flopped on his back in the aisle. The Cowardly Lion skidded
 rapidly past to wedge under the little dining table, while Dorothy and the
 Wizard clung to the steering board to keep from falling. For a terrific
 roar like the tearing of a gigantic sheet had made the Ozpril tremble like
 a leaf. There came a sudden flash of silver smoke, and the gradual dying
 away of all sound. Then a complete and ominous silence.
"WHAT? WHAT! Why, it's $$gone!&&" shouted the Wizard, racing over to the
 door and staring amazedly at the empty space occupied a moment before by
 the Oztober. Then he glanced up into the starlit expanse of sky.
"Gone?" Creeping on hands and knees, the Scarecrow peered out to see for
 himself. "Why, what right have they to go off like that?" he demanded,
 pulling himself up by the door jam. "April comes before October and goes
 before October, too. Fall before spring C4 Why, that's ridiculous! The
 Ozpril should have led off!"
"Oh, what will become of them?" cried Dorothy in distress, clasping her
 hands anxiously. "I'm sure it was a dreadful mistake."
"Mistake!" moaned the Wizard, pushing back his high hat. "Worse than that,
 Dorothy! Why, everything is ruined! Here they've gone off before I even had
 a chance to $$show&& the plane to Ozma. They have no directions, no
 supplies; they'll crash, smash or wreck themselves. I intended to teach
 Nick Chopper to navigate the plane before we started!"
"But can't we stop them? Can't we go after them?" exclaimed Dorothy,
 clutching the Wizard's coattails.
"Go after them? Yes! That's the idea, go after them! Of course!" panted the
 Wizard, falling over the Cowardly Lion, who was making a stream-lion for
 the door.
"I was just going back for my overshoes," wheezed the lion, slinking rather
 guiltily into his seat at the Wizard's reproachful glance.
"Stay where you are!" the Wizard directed sharply. "Now then, steady,
 everybody steady! Shut that door, Scarecrow, we are about to ascend." The
 Wizard bent over the steering board to touch the green button that would
 inflate the Ozpril's balloon. "But I never expected to go without my black
 bag of magic, an extra vest, or even my bottle of hair tonic."
"Haven't you any magic at all"" called Dorothy as the Ozpril began to
 vibrate and tremble from the rush of gas into its balloon.
"A little, a little," confessed the Wizard, pressing the buttons marked "Up"
 and "South." "Here, Dorothy, take the tell-all-escope and see if you can
 catch a glimpse of the Oztober when we are aloft." Grasping the wheel, the
 Wizard settled grimly into the pilot's seat. Dorothy had just time to
 clutch the tell-all-escope before the Ozpril rose straight into the air.
 Lifted and borne by its buoyant gasbag, the graceful ship pointed toward
 the stars.

CHAPTER 4
FIRST FLIGHT OF THE OZTOBER
Now the start of the Oztober had been nothing like the orderly takeoff of
 the Ozpril. The first hint Jellia had of their departure was when a china
 coffee pot from the open china closet into which she was looking with great
 interest hit her a sharp clip on the chin. Next moment she was rolling
 round on the floor of the cabin, dodging all the rest of the green dishes.
"Oh! Oh! Dishes awful!" choked poor Jellia Jam, not even realizing she was
 making a pun.
"Stop!" yelled the Tin Woodman, turning a complete somersault and coming
 down on his funnel with one leg hooked through the luggage rack. "Stop! Who
 did that?"
"Pickles!" moaned a faint voice from the forward end of the cabin. "Oh,
 those pickles!" And that was probably as correct an answer as any to Nick's
 indignant question. Even upside down as he was and subject to the fierce
 rocketing of the plane, the Tin Woodman could see a tall, green figure
 sprawled across the navigator's table. As he had bent over to examine the
 Oztober's steering apparatus, the Soldier with Green Whiskers had been
 taken with a violent cramp from the twenty-nine pickles he had eaten at the
 party. Falling heavily on the board, he had pushed down $$ten&& of the
 Wizard's bright-colored buttons. Following the directions of all ten, one
 after the other, the Oztober had exploded into the air and now, whistling
 and whirling like a comet bound for Mars, was charging into the Heavens.
Jellia Jam was too bruised and shaken to do anything but cling to the side
 of one of the seats. The Soldier, after his head had been whacked down
 three times on the board, had lapsed into complete and utter silence. Only
 Nick managed to preserve a semblance of his usual calm and composure.
 Though severely dented by the plane's takeoff, the Tin Woodman, being of
 metal, felt no pain. Nor was he subject to the giddiness that assailed
 ordinary flesh and bone bodies under such trying conditions. Even standing
 on his head did not greatly inconvenience him, and after the first dreadful
 shock he began to perceive a certain order and rhythm in their flight. This
 was not strange.
The Soldier's fall had pressed down the button to inflate the Oztober's
 balloon, the "Up" and the "South" buttons, the "fast," "spin," "spiral,"
 "zig," "zag," "slow" and "circle" buttons as well. So first the Oztober
 would shoot straight up, then it would go into a fast spin, and spiral. The
 zigs and zags were a little less terrible, and on one of the slow circles
 the Tin Woodman managed to extricate his foot from the luggage rack.
 Clattering full length in the aisle, he lay still till the next slow
 circle. Then, leaping to his feet, he rushed forward and pulled the Soldier
 off the steering board. He had just time to prop the unconscious army into
 the third chair and fall into the pilot's seat himself when the Oztober
 went into another fast spin and spiral. This rather upset Nick.
He had taken a hasty look at the navigator's table when he entered the ship
 and then, more interested in the metal of which the plane was constructed,
 had gone tapping about, testing it with his tin knuckles, intending to
 return to the steering gear later. He naturally had supposed that when he
 pulled the soldier off the board the plane would slow down or change its
 course. But nothing of the kind happened. All the buttons the soldier had
 fallen on stayed down.
Grasping the wheel, Nick was relieved to find he could steady the Oztober a
 bit in this way. Holding to it with one hand, he tried to pull out the
 "spin" and "spiral" buttons with the other. But even his strong tin fingers
 could not budge them. Next he glanced frantically over the board for a
 "stop" or "down" button, but the "down" button when he found it filled him
 with apprehension. If they shot downward at the speed they were hurling
 upward, the plane most certainly would be wrecked. No, decided Nick,
 drawing his fingers hastily back from the "down" button, they were much
 safer in the air until he learned a little more about flying, and he'd just
 have to hang on till he discovered how the Ozoplane worked.
Grasping the wheel resignedly in both hands, he glanced back to see how
 Jellia was faring. Jellia was sitting dizzily in the middle of the aisle.
 But she was so encouraged to see Nick actually at the wheel that she made
 her way to him and hung firmly to the arm of his chair. Just then the
 Oztober whirled into its twentieth spin and spiral, and Jellia C4
 dislodged from the chair C4 caught at the steering table to save herself
 from falling.
"Oh, now you've done it!" gasped Nick as the Oztober gave a wicked lurch.
 "Oh, nowFF20C4" His voice trailed off into a hoarse squeak, for as
 abruptly as it had started the plane stopped, and held aloft by its
 still-buoyant balloon, swung easily to and fro in the faint wind that
 stirred above the clouds. "Say! How did you $$do&& it?" Letting go the
 wheel, the Tin Woodman seized Jellia by the shoulders.
"What?" panted Jellia. "What did I do?"
"Why, you saved the ship. You stopped her. See, all the buttons are up
 again!" Removing Jellia's clutching fingers gently from the table top, Nick
 discovered a flat bar on the underside of the board. As soon as Jellia
 pressed the bar, all the buttons had popped back to their normal position.
 "So THAT'S it!" exclaimed Nick, rubbing his tin forehead anxiously. "Each
 time you want to change the course, you press this bar and then begin all
 over again."
"But now we're sinking," groaned Jellia. And sinking herself into the seat
 back of Nick, she stared at him with round, desperate eyes.
"Sinking, are we? Well, I'll soon put a stop to $$that!&&" Pouncing on the
 green button to inflate the Oztober's gas bag, Nick pressed it quickly, for
 of course as soon as Jellia had touched the bar, the buttons had all sprung
 up and the magic gas had begun to seep out of the plane's balloon
 attachment. As it again filled and became taut, the slow downward drift of
 the ship ceased, and again it hung motionless between a cloud and a star.
 "Now!" breathed the Tin Woodman, eyeing the button board with grim purpose
 and determination, "Now we can take our time and start off right."
"Oh, Nick, must we go through all that again?" Jellia began to cry softly,
 drying her eyes on the sash of her party dress. "Oh, Nick, I never thought
 flying would be like this. Please, can't we just stay as we are?"
"Certainly not," said the Tin Woodman briskly. "Hanging 'round the sky is
 dangerous. We might be hit by a shooting star or even by a meteor. Now just
 trust yourself to me, my dear Jellia. Remember, I am the Emperor of the
 East!" Nick smote his tin chest a resounding blow. "And after ruling the
 Winkies all these years, I surely can handle one small plane!"
Reassuring himself if not Jellia, the Tin Woodman searched the array of
 buttons for one marked "slow." After he had found it, he slowly began to
 map his course. He would continue to fly up for a time. Next he would take
 a horizontal direction until he grew more accustomed to piloting the
 Ozoplane. Then, as night passed and the sun rose, he would zig and zag
 slowly downward and make a safe landing near the Emerald City.
The Soldier with Green Whiskers had regained consciousness only to fall at
 once into a heavy slumber. His snores blended nicely with Jellia's sobs as
 Nick Chopper pushed the "up," the "South" and the "slow" buttons. Braced
 for a new shock, Jellia grasped the arms of her seat. But this time the
 Oztober soared gently and gracefully aloft, the motion of the plane so
 smooth and pleasant Ozma's little Maid in Waiting soon forgot all her
 fears. Relaxing against the soft green cushions, she too fell asleep. This
 left only Nick awake and alert.
But if the Wizard had searched all over Oz, he could not have found a better
 pilot than the Tin Woodman. Being practically tireless and requiring
 neither food nor rest, he could keep his place at the wheel for days if
 necessary. Delighted at the way the Oztober responded to his clever
 manipulation of the wheel and buttons, he flew up and up and on and on,
 scarcely realizing the distance he was putting between himself and Oz.
 Glancing out the round window beside him, Nick viewed the starry expanse of
 the upper air with growing interest and enthusiasm. Sometimes he was almost
 tempted to waken Jellia to point out the splendid cloud mountains and
 cities they were passing. As he swept along, the sky turned from deep blue
 grey and was now suffused with the rainbow tints of early morning.
 Switching off the lights, the Tin Woodman slightly changed his course.
"I really need a lot more practice before I go back or try to make a safe
 landing," he observed softly to himself. "It never would do to crack up a
 valuable ship like this." But the truth of the matter was, the Tin Woodman
 did not wish to turn back. And after all, who was to insist? The Soldier
 and Jellia still slept on, and far ahead, between a bank of fog and an arch
 of platinum sun rays, loomed a long, lavender crescent. Nick even fancied
 he could see people moving about its glittering surface.
"A new world!" gloated the Tin Woodman, setting his funnel at a more daring
20angle. If this were so, he would be its discoverer. Not only that, but he
 could claim it for Ozma and win for himself as much honor and renown as
 Samuel Salt, the Royal Explorer of Oz. "Even if it's not inhabited, it
 would be a good place to practice landing," reflected Nick happily. So
 again he pressed the black bar, touched the button to deflate the Oztober's
 balloon and raise the wings. For now he wished to fly horizontally, and the
 wings would be faster than the gas bag. Next, touching the "straight-on"
 and "faster" buttons and twirling the wheel expertly, he headed the ship
 straight for the tip of the lavender island.

CHAPTER 5
THE SPIKERS
Nick waited until he was well over the crescent before he attempted to land.
 As he flew along, he planned exactly how he would go about it, and
 everything worked out as planned except for one thing. The "slow," the
 "zig" and the "down" buttons brought the Oztober within a foot of the
 glittering air Isle, but the "stop" button functioned a bit late. Instead
 of stopping on the surface, the plane dropped clear through with a crash
 like the smashing of a thousand thin tumblers. Peering up through a spray
 of splinters, the Tin Woodman found he had knocked a jagged hole in the
 Crescent.
"Attention! Shoulder arms! Company, fall in!" yelled the Soldier with Green
 Whiskers. Jolted completely awake, he sprang up in the aisle, aiming his
 gun at the ceiling.
"Yes? Yes! Coming, your Majesty!" Jellia, mistaking the musical crash for
 the ringing of Ozma's morning bell, rolled sleepily out of her seat and
 started down the aisle after the Soldier.
"Now, now, don't be alarmed," remarked Nick Chopper. "I was just trying to
 land."
"Land? Where is it? Quick! Let me out of here!" panted Jellia Jam,
 remembering all in a rush where she was and the dreadful experiences of the
 night before.
"I see no land," said the Soldier, pressing his nose against one of the
 windows.
"Well, it certainly looked like land!" The Tin Woodman spoke in a slightly
 exasperated voice. The Oztober, still quivering from its impact with the
 island, was hanging motionless about ten feet below the Crescent. "Can't
 tell about these Sky Countries till you try them."
"I'll bet it's nothing but a cake of ice," shivered Jellia, hugging herself
 to keep warm. "Being of tin, I don't suppose you'd notice that it was
 freezing! I wonder if that stove lights."
"Ice?" meditated Nick as Jellia hurried toward the back of the cabin. "Why,
 I do believe you are right, my dear. In the upper stratas the air does
 become colder. We probably cracked through a frozen cloud!"
Jellia, turning all the switches on the stove, paid little attention to
 Nick's scientific discourse. She was too busy warming herself over the
 glowing burners. "If we just had something to cook," sighed the little Oz
 maid, staring wistfully into the cupboard beside the stove. But the shelves
 were perfectly empty. Reflecting that the Wizard had not yet had time to
 stock up for the flight, Jellia, who was an orderly little soul, began
 picking up the china that had broken when it fell from the cabinet the
 night before. Rather pompously, the Soldier with Green Whiskers began to
 help her.
"Will someone kindly explain what we are doing flying around in this
 dangerous and haphazard manner?" he inquired loftily. "I understood we were
 to wait for Ozma's return before we made a trial flight! And really, you
 know, I'm needed at home to guard the castle."
"Oh, indeed!" sniffed Jellia. "And who do you suppose started us off, Mr.
 Whiskers? Nobody but yourself. A fine pickle you put us in when you fell on
 that steering board."
"I?" The Solder straightened up, aghast.
"Yes, YOU!" declared Jellia. "You and your pickles." Sweeping the rest of
 the broken plates into her skirt, she marched to the end of the cabin and
 dumped them into the big basket beside the water cooler. "Goodness knows
 whether we shall ever get back," she sighed, sinking despondently into the
 last seat and staring out the window.
"But we're backing now," muttered the Soldier. This was quite true, for
 Nick, to avoid hitting the crescent of ice again, was maneuvering the plane
 from beneath; then, feeling it might be dangerous to go any higher, he
 began slowly and cautiously to descend. Neither he nor Jellia paid any more
 attention to the Soldier with Green Whiskers, who glanced uncomfortably
 from one to the other. After a little silence, he remarked in a hollow
 voice, "I shall consider myself under arrest. I shall walk guard for two
 hours without a pause for rest or rations!"
"Oh, don't be a goose!" giggled Jellia. "You'll probably go without rations
 because there aren't any. But what good will walking guard do?"
"As Commander-in-Chief, I have sentenced myself to walk guard. As a
 first-class Private in the Army of Oz, I shall carry out this sentence,"
 insisted the Soldier. "Discipline must be maintained!" Hoisting his
 old-fashioned blunderbuss to his shoulder, he began tramping stiffly up and
 down the short aisle of the cabin.
Born in a small Munchkin village to a family named Battles who had promptly
 christened him Wantowin, he had applied as soon as he was grown for a
 position in the army of Oz. The Wizard, then Supreme Ruler of the Kingdom,
 impressed by the Soldier's height and long green whiskers, had immediately
 hired him. Later he had been promoted by Ozma to fill the position of the
 entire staff and army of Oz. Wantowin had never been much of a fighter, but
 as war in Oz is practically outlawed and victories usually won by magic, he
 had got on very well. At his tenth about-face, Wantowin suddenly recalled
 the piece of cake he had stuffed into his pocket the night before, and
 generously offered it to Jellia.
"Oh, Wanny, how wonderful!" To the famished girl, the cake tasted even
 better than it had at the Wizard's party. Breaking it in half, she tried to
 force the soldier to eat a piece, but raising his hand sternly, Wantowin
 continued his self-imposed sentence. Seeing argument was useless, Jellia
 ate her own share and put the other half in the cupboard for the soldier's
 supper.
The plane was still slanting smoothly downward. After oiling all of Nick's
 joints and thinking how fortunate it was they had brought along the oil
 can, Jellia began marching up and down behind the Soldier, examining the
 pictures and charts on the wall as she went along. The cake and a long
 drink of water from the cooler had done much to restore her courage and
 cheerfulness, and an occasional glance out the window was both pleasant and
 reassuring. The Oztober was dropping through fluffs and puffs of creamy
 cloud. "Just like whipped cream on strawberries C4 if we had any
 strawberries!" mused Jellia, withdrawing her gaze reluctantly from the
 window and resuming her march. "Oh, Nick, here are some directions!" she
 cried suddenly, stepping before a finely printed notice beside the water
 cooler.
"Directions?" The Tin Woodman looked round rather annoyed. He felt he had
 almost mastered the mechanism of the Ozoplane and did not care to start a
 new system. But the directions that Jellia read off had nothing to do with
 the navigation of the plane. They were rules for the behavior of passengers
 in the strat. "The air in this cabin has been magically treated," stated
 the notice. "So long as the windows and doors are closed, riders may safely
 pass through the highest strata. On debarking, however, it would be well to
 don my patent protective air helmets, see chest beneath second seat, or to
 take one, for each mile up, of my elutherated altitude pills from the
 recess in the table leg."
Jellia, whose bump of curiosity was larger than most, lost no time hunting
 for the helmets. Dragging the chest from beneath the second seat and paying
 no attention to the marching soldier, who stepped over her each time he
 passed, she impatiently lifted the lid. The four helmets in the chest were
 of some pliant, glassy material resembling cellophane. They belted in at
 the waist, and after holding one up for Nick's inspection, Jellia put them
 back and returned the chest to its place.
"Now $$which&& leg of $$which&& table?" pondered the little Maid in Waiting,
 her mind turning to the altitude pills.
"Oh, what does it matter?" grinned the Tin Woodman as Jellia crawled under
 the navigator's table and began tapping its legs one after the other.
 "You'll soon be on solid earth and won't need altitude pills." Nick had
 made up his mind to bring the Oztober down to a landing wherever they
 happened to be. But Jellia scarcely heard him, for at that moment she had
 discovered a small hook on one of the front legs of the table. Pulling it
 down, she disclosed a tall, triangular bottle in the hollow center. The
 pills were triangular too, and of every color in the rainbow.
"Take one after each mile," read Jellia, uncorking the bottle and taking a
 good sniff. The pills smelled as good as they looked, and she was about to
 sample one when the Soldier with Green Whiskers gave a hoarse scream and
 such a leap that his head hit the ceiling.
"$$Now&& what's the matter?" demanded Nick Chopper, turning around stiffly,
 while Jellia hastily corked the bottle, shoved it back into the table leg
 and crawled into the aisle.
"NICK!" shrieked poor Jellia. "What is it? What are they? Oh, Ozma! Oh,
 Wizard! Oh, help! HELP!"
And well might Jellia scream, for swarming round the tail of the Oztober
 came a perfect horde of iridescent monsters. In shape each resembled an
 octopus, but instead of arms they had long, horny spikes and spines.
 Pressing close to the plane, they ogled at the shivering passengers as if
 they were fish in some strange aquarium. Then, evidently angered at what
 they saw, they began hurling and banging themselves against the sides of
 the Oztober till it sounded like the rattle of machine guns. At this
 juncture, I am sorry to report, Wantowin Battles, after sounding a shrill
 retreat on the bugle attached to his belt, rushed into the dressing room
 and wrapped himself in the shower curtain.
Nick Chopper, who already loved the Wizard's ship as if it were his own,
 shuddered as each spike struck the shining metal. Then, deciding that
 flight was the better part of valor, he hastily changed course, zooming up
 and up, faster and faster and FASTER! For perhaps a thousand feet the
 goggle-eyed monsters pursued them, but at last the air grew too thin and
 rare for the spikers, and one by one they fell away. Their horrid squeals
 and screeches still came faintly to the three voyagers, and Jellia ran
 quickly to the back window to stare down after them.
"Why, I never knew there were wild animals in the air," stuttered Jellia,
 blinking her eyes rapidly.
"Now, I wouldn't exactly call them wild animals," said Nick argumentatively,
 twisting his neck from side to side to be sure he was not rusting.
"Well, they certainly weren't birds!" declared Jellia indignantly. "And how
 did they fly without wings? Come on out, Soldier, they're gone."
"Ah, so we have won?" Jauntily, the Soldier stepped out of the dressing room
 and resumed his marching. "Give me credit for sounding the retreat,
 comrades," he observed cheerfully. Jellia sniffed, and Nick Chopper said
 nothing.
"What are we going to do now?" inquired the little Oz Maid, going over to
 stand by the wheel. "How can we ever fly down with those awful creatures
 below?"
"We'll just travel horizontally till we are out of their area," Nick told
 her complacently. "But for a while, anyway, we'll go up. After all, one has
 to go up to come down, you know. And when we $$do&& come downFF20C4" Nick
 gave a satisfied little nod "C4FF20it will be in a safe spot and far from
 those spiky airimals."
"So that's what they are! But how did you know?" Jellia looked admiringly at
 the Tin Woodman.
"Oh, it just came to me," admitted Nick with a modest cough. "Beasts of the
 air must have names, I suppose. Make a note of those monsters, will you,
 Wantowin?"
"I'm writing them up in my little green book now," mumbled the Soldier, who
 was in fact scribbling away hastily as he tramped up and down. "I've made a
 sketch of one, too."
"Good! Although I didn't suppose you'd looked at them long enough for that!"
 said Nick, a bit sarcastically. He glanced hastily at the page the soldier
 had before his nose. Then, deciding they had flown high enough, he pointed
 the Oztober toward the east, and after an hour's leisurely flying again
 began a slow and cautious descent.
"I do wonder where we'll land," mused Jellia, trying to pierce with her
 bright eyes the bank of fog that lay beneath.
"Somewhere in the Quadling Country, I should judge," answered Nick, twirling
 the wheel deftly to the right. "And when we doFF20C4" At that moment, the
 Soldier with Green Whiskers let out another panicky squawk.
"Climb! Climb!" he panted, running up and down the aisle so fast he almost
 ran himself down on the about-faces. "We're ambushed, comrades! Fire in the
 fog! Land on the stern!"
"Oh, tin cups and canyons!" rasped Nick Chopper, losing his temper at last.
 "If this keeps up, how are we ever to get down? Hammer and tong it!
 Something's always getting in the way. WILL you stop that silly marching?"
 he yelled, snatching at the Soldier's sleeve as he raced by.
"HALT!" quavered Wantowin. Instantly obeying his own command, he stood
 trembling beside the navigator's table as Nick peered desperately down
 through the fog.

CHAPTER 6
STRUT OF THE STRAT
"What is it, Hippenscop?" Strutoovious the Seventh looked up impatiently as
 his first and fastest messenger came to a panting halt under the Imperial
 Canopy. Instead of answering, Hippenscop, his chest heaving and his eyes
 bulging, made a wordless gesture over his shoulder. Then, catching his foot
 in the royal bootscraper, he fell violently up the steps of the dais. This
 was not unusual, for anyone who falls in Stratovania falls up instead of
 down. Rather relieved to find himself before the throne at last, Hippenscop
 scrambled to his feet. Sucking in his breath, he announced hoarsely:
"I beg to report a strange and sonorbious monster falling through the fog
 over Half Moon Lake."
"Are you sure it is not a Zoomer?" Throwing down the morning star which he
 had been reading, Strutoovious stared coldly at the messenger.
"Ho, no! Ho, NO!" Hippenscop shook his head positively. "It has wings and a
 tail, your Stratjesty. Wings, a tail, and seven eyes! But HARK!" The
 menacing whirr and sputter following the messenger's speech made even the
 Ruler of all the Stratovanians leap off his throne. Striding rapidly after
 the terrified servitor, Strut, followed by half the inhabitants of his
 irradiant Tip-toposphere, reached the shores of Half Moon Lake.
"Skydragon!" he announced after a brief glance at the gleaming shape
 drifting down through the fog. "Quick, Hippen! Summon the Royal Blowmen!
 Back, stand back, you witless woffs! Do you wish to be crushed and eaten?
 Yon monster will alight on the North shore any moonite now!" At Strut's
 loud warning, half of his subjects took to their heels, while the rest
 scurried round to the South side of the lake, every head turned up toward
 the mysterious dragon.
Only of course it was not a dragon. It was the silver-bodied Oztober, inside
 of which the agitation was almost as great as the alarm of the Airlanders
 below.
"How long have we? How long'll it be before we land?" gulped Jellia.
 Remembering the Wizard's instructions, she jerked out the box of air
 helmets and next made a dive under the navigator's table. "Here, take one
C4 twoC4 threeC4 Oh, how many shall we take?" groaned the little Oz Maid,
 holding up the bottle of altitude pills. "FF20`One, after each mile up,'
 but how many miles have we come?"
"One hundred and one thousand, eight hundred and sixty-seven feet!" mumbled
 the Soldier with Green Whiskers, reading the figures from a shining metal
 hypsometer clamped to the navigator's table. "All we have to do is figure
 how many feet in a mile."
"Fifty-two hundred and some," puffed Nick, working away desperately at his
 wheel and buttons to bring the Oztober down without crashing. "Oh, take
 twenty!" he directed sharply as Jellia and the Soldier stood regarding him
 with open mouths. It was no time, as Jellia later told Ozma, to be doing
 long division. With trembling fingers she counted out twenty pills for the
 Soldier with Green Whiskers. Then, popping twenty into her own mouth and
 crunching them desperately between her teeth, she handed the bottle to Nick
 Chopper.
"No, No! None for me!" The Tin Woodman waved the bottle impatiently aside.
 "High altitude won't injure my metal, but keep this oil can handy, Jellia,
 and whatever happens, don't let me rust!" Choking on the pills, which were
 dry and rather bitter, Jellia nodded earnestly. Tucking the oil can into
 the little bag that hung from her wrist, she began nervously dragging on
 her air helmet. Wantowin Battles already had adjusted his and swallowed his
 pills. Now, peering out one of the round windows, he trembled so violently
 all his weapons rattled and clanked to the dismal tune of his fright.
"Th-thousands of them!" quavered the Soldier. "What kind of place is this,
 anyway? It's so bright it hurts my eyes. Oh, I just know there'll be
 fighting! Look, I'd far better stay in the cabin, as someone must guard the
 plane!"
"But not YOU!" Nick Chopper spoke with great firmness. Then, spinning the
 wheel rapidly and gauging to a nicety the distance between the ship and the
 sparkling airosphere, he touched the "down" and "stop" buttons
 simultaneously. Coating down the last little hill of wind, the Oztober came
 to a gentle and complete stop on the shore of a rainbow-hued body of water.
"Now, now! Take your time," cautioned the Tin Woodman as Jellia started
 impulsively toward the door. Pulling off one of the cushion covers, Nick
 began polishing himself vigorously. As the discoverer of this new and
 astonishing airland, he wished to make a good impression. From what he had
 seen, it was a country well worth claiming for Ozma of Oz. "Here, let me go
 first," he said, tossing aside the cushion cover. "Keep close to me, Jellia
 and Soldier. Under no circumstances are you to retreat unless $$I&& give
 the signal. Great Tinhoppers, what was $$that?&&" A long wail rather like
 the squall of a cat suddenly had rent the quiet air of the cabin.
"Stowaway!" cried Jellia as another unmistakable meough followed the first.
 "Sounds like Dorothy's cat." But it was not Eureka that Jellia pulled from
 behind the second seat cushion. It was a small black kit-bag. The green
 eyes turned off and on like electric lights, and the tail curved over the
 back to form a handle. Round its neck hung a green placard:
$$"This Kit-Bag of Magic to be used
Only in cases of extreme emergency.
To open, pull the tail. C4 WIZ."&&
"Well, Gee Whiz, is this an emergency?" Jellia held the bag out nervously.
"ErC4 YES!" declared Nick Chopper after a second glance out of the window.
 "Bring it along! And remember, you have nothing to fear! I, the Emperor of
 all the Winkies, am with you. With kind words and courteous gestures we
 will win the friendship and allegiance of these strange airlanders for Ozma
 of Oz."
Jellia knew Nick's red plush heart, given him by the Wizard, was the kindest
 in all Oz. Nevertheless, she took a firmer hold on the kit bag, and only
 after assuring herself that Wantowin had his saber and blunderbuss did she
 follow the Tin Woodman down the Oztober's ladder.
There was a complete and astonished silence as the three Ozians stepped from
 the plane. And it must be confessed, Jellia and the Soldier in their
 transparent helmets and the Tin Woodman without a helmet were strange
 enough to startle any airbody. So it's no wonder the Stratovanians were as
 amazed at the appearance of the travelers as the travelers were amazed at
 the Stratovanians. Separated only by the waters of Half Moon Lake, they
 confronted each other with growing alarm. Strut, who had expected this
 dragon to roar, spurt flames and then rush forward to attack them, hardly
 knew what to do when these three curious beings stepped from the monster's
 interior. Noting with alarm that his Blowmen had not yet arrived, he
 determined to hold the invaders in conversation, if possible.
So with his head and chest high and walking with the queer, strutting gait
 that characterized all of the dwellers in Stratovania, he advanced slowly
 around the edge of Half Moon Lake. A few paces behind strutted the rest of
 his retainers. Just as slowly, Nick Chopper and his two companions advanced
 to meet them.
The Airlanders were a head taller than even the Tin Woodman. Their hair grew
 straight up on end, sparkling and crackling with electricity in a really
 terrifying manner. Their eyes were star-shaped and shaded by long, silver
 lashes; the noses and mouths were straight and firm, the foreheads
 transparent. Some shone as from a hidden sun, while across the brows of
 others tiny black clouds chased one another in rapid succession. Watching
 their foreheads would be a good way, decided Jellia Jam, to find out
 whether they were pleased or angry. Strut and his subjects wore belted
 tunics of some iridescent, rainbow-hued material, and silver sandals laced
 to the knee.
>From the ears of the men hung huge, crescent pendants, while from those of
 the women star earrings danced and dangled. Each Stratovanian carried a
 tall staff tipped with wings. Beyond, Jellia saw a country of such dazzling
 beauty, she was almost afraid to breathe lest it vanish before her eyes.
 The trees were tall and numerous, with gleaming, prism-shaped trunks and a
 mass of cloudlike foliage. Some bore fruit that actually seemed to be
 illuminated C4 oranges, pears, and peaches glowing like decorated electric
 light bulbs! Moon and star flowers grew in great profusion, and in the
 distance caves and grottoes of purest crystal scintillated in the high noon
 sun. So far as Jellia could see, there were no houses or castles, but there
 were hundreds of gay canopies held up by crystal poles. Jellia was just
 standing on tiptoe to glimpse the furnishings of the nearest Canopy when
 Nick Chopper, feeling that time had come to speak, raised his tin arm and
 called out imperiously:
"I, Emperor of the East and the Winkies, hereby claim this new and beautiful
 airosphere for Ozma of Oz, and bid you, its illustrious inhabitants, pledge
 to her your allegiance! At the same time, I bestow upon all of you Upper
 Airians free citizenship in the glorious Land of Oz!"
At this bold speech Strut stopped and stood as if rooted to the spot. Not
 only was he dumbfounded to discover he could understand the language of
 these curious beings, but if what he heard were correct, they actually were
 claiming his Kingdom for their own.
"Well, how was that?" whispered Nick, looking down sideways at Jellia.
"Terrible! Terrible!" moaned the little Oz Maid. "Oh, my! We'd better look
 out!" Catching hold of Wantowin's hand, for he already showed signs of
 retreating, she looked anxiously at the approaching Airman. Black clouds
 were simply racing across his imperial brow; his eyes flashed red and blue
 lights, and his hair positively crackled with indignation and fury.
"Oh, my, I do hope you are feeling well," ventured Jellia as Strut took an
 enormous stride toward them. "If you have a headache or anything, we could
 easily come back tomorrow."
"Stand where you are!" sneered Strut. Looking over his shoulder, he made
 sure his twenty tall Bowmen had arrived and were pushing their way through
 the crowd. "Stand where you are, or I'll have you blown to atoms!"
"Now, now, let us not come to blows!" begged Nick Chopper. "We have much to
 learn from you, and you from us, and I assure you we have come in the
 spirit of highest friendship!"
"Humph! So that's what it is, a friend ship! Looks like a dragon to me!"
 Folding his arms, Strut scowled past the three travelers to where the
 Oztober rested like some giant butterfly on the shore of Half Moon Lake.
 Then, making a secret signal to the Blowmen who had lined up before him, he
 shouted fiercely, "I am Strut of the Strat and Supreme Ruler of all the
 Upper Areas. In daring to claim Stratovania for your foolish countrywoman,
 you indeed aim high and will go, I promise you, still higher! Three blasts
 and a toot, men!" As Strut issued this cruel command, his twenty
 stern-looking warriors lifted their curved horns and puffed out their
 cheeks for a tremendous blow.
Jellia Jam, feeling that if they ever needed help it was right here and now,
 frantically sought with her one free hand to open the Wizard's Kit-Bag. As
 she fumbled with the curved handle, Strut raised his long arm. "Wait!" he
 cried tensely. "Not yet!" Lowering their horns and exhaling their breaths
 in loud whistles, the Blowmen stared at him in surprise. Strut had been
 examining the strangers from Oz more attentively. Now he strode over to
 Jellia, jerked off her helmet and ran his hand slowly over her smooth brown
 hair. Jellia, expecting to faint or expire without the helmet, let out a
 piteous groan. But the altitude pills were evidently powerful enough to
 protect her, and feeling no ill effects she glanced up timidly at the
 towering Stratovanian. Dark clouds no longer flitted across his brow.
 Indeed, he looked almost pleasant. "Ve-ry pret-ty!" he mused, stroking
 Jellia's hair softly. "Not wiry or stand-uppish like ours. Hippenscop!
 Summon her Majesty the Queen. She'll be delighted with this beautiful
 little creature! But it is my intention to blow away these other insolent
 invaders from Oz, keeping only this smooth-haired lassie for our Starina."
"Oh, No! Oh, NO!" begged Jellia, pulling back with all her strength.
"Stop! You can't have Jellia," yelled Nick Chopper, flinging out his arms.
"Ready C4 aim C4 fire!" quavered the Soldier with Green Whiskers. And
 pointing his ancient gun at Strut, he valiantly pulled the trigger. But
 Wantowin's aim was very bad. The twenty marbles with which the gun was
 loaded sipped harmlessly past the Airman's ears, stinging quite a few of
 his subjects and frightening at least fifty into full flight. Strut himself
 was not impressed. Giving Nick a push that sent him sprawling and the
 Soldier a shove, he drew Jellia firmly away from her friends. Terrified as
 she was, the little Oz Maid could not help a small thrill of satisfaction
 to have been chosen by a monarch as High and Mighty as Strut of the Strat
 to be Starina to him and his Queen.
"As for you two," said Strut to Nick and the Soldier, "blowing up is quite
 painless, I assure you, and if you ever do come down, you'll doubtless have
 many interesting things to tell."
The Blowmen placed a guard around Nick and the Soldier, and stepped back to
 their posts. Nick Chopper and Wantowin, stunned by the swiftness of events,
 stared sadly at their little Jellia as the Blowmen for a second time raised
 their horns. But Strut, intent on his Warriors, had dropped Jellia's hand.
 Quick as a flash, she pulled the kit-bag's tail and pulled out the first
 object her fingers closed on. It was a small, green trumpet. Without
 stopping to think or reason, Jellia placed it to her lips and blew three
 frantic toots. Instantly a light-green vapor flowed from the mouth of the
 horn, spreading like a fast-moving cloud over the entire assemblage C4 a
 light-green vapor accompanied by three musical notes.

CHAPTER 7
A MOST RELUCTANT STARINA
As the last note died away in a sweet, reluctant echo, Strut's Bowmen threw
 down their horns. With wild shouts and cheers, they began to embrace as if
 each were the other's long-lost brother. The behavior of the rest of the
 Stratovanians was equally puzzling. They sang, they whistled, they laughed
 and stamped their feet from sheer gaiety. Strut, hurrying over to Nick
 Chopper, shook him heartily by the hand.
"Say, Hay-Hurray! How ARE you?" he demanded exuberantly. "How are you and
 all of your aunts, uncles and infant nieces?"
"Wha C4 what's that?" sputtered Nick Chopper, completely taken aback by
 this sudden show of friendliness. Kabebe the Queen, tears of joy streaming
 down her moon-shaped face, seized the hands of the Soldier with Green
 Whiskers and was dancing him 'round and 'round. Unnoticed in the general
 hubbub and hilarity, Jellia managed to steal another glance at the green
 trumpet. Printed in white letters on the handle was this surprising
 sentence: $$"This trumpet contains cheer gas."&& Cheer Gas! With a
 tremulous sigh, for the last few moments had been a great strain, Jellia
 slipped the Wizard's instruments back into the kit bag and zipped it shut.
 Strangely enough, the gas had not affected any of the people from Oz. In
 fact, Jellia had never felt less like cheering in her whole life.
"This way! Ray, Ray, hur$$ray!&&" shouted Strut, who now had Nick by one arm
 and the Soldier by the other. "Quickly! Go and prepare the Guest Canopies,
 Queen Kabebe! These travelers are doubtless weary and need rest and
 refreshment. Have you any preference as to canopies?" he inquired, leaning
 down to look in Nick Chopper's face.
"Do you have any $$tin&& canopies?" asked Nick hoarsely. He was still dazed
 by Strut's unaccountable change of manner. "I always feel safer under a tin
 roof. It is such a beautiful and dependable metal."
"Tin? Oh, Ha-Ha-HA!" Strut blinked his star eyes rapidly. "I'm afraid we
 have no tin, but any other kind, my dearFF20C4"
"Nick Chopper, Tin Woodman of Oz," put in Jellia, who felt it was high time
 they were properly introduced. "And thereFF20C4" she hastily indicated
 the Soldier with Green Whiskers "C4FF20there is Wantowin Battles, the
 Grand Army of Oz!" At Jellia's introduction, Wantowin dropped Strut's arm
 to shake hands.
"And who are you, my lively little Skylark?" he questioned.
"Oh, I'm just Jellia Jam, Ozma's Chief Maid-in-Waiting," Jellia said as she
 trotted uneasily along at his side. The rest of the Stratovanians, still
 cheering and singing, but in a more subdued way, came streaming after them.
 Rather anxiously, Jellia wondered how long the effects of the cheer gas
 would last and how soon Strut would remember about blowing Nick and the
 Soldier away again. It seemed unlikely that she would have another chance
 to open the kit bag without detection.
The Queen, who had not been as cheered by the gas as the others, seemed
 somewhat unfriendly as she walked along behind her Royal Husband. Every few
 minutes, in fact, she would lean forward and give Jellia a spiteful pinch.
 Jellia bore this rude treatment with extreme patience, making no complaint
 or outcry and merely walking a little faster to keep out of the creature's
 way. Jellia wanted to see all she could of this wonderful, sparkling
 airland so she could tell Ozma and Dorothy all about it when she returned
 to Oz.
The Soldier with Green Whiskers had fallen back to a place beside Queen
 Kabebe and was gazing about him with contemptuous snorts. Any country that
 was not green like the land surrounding the Emerald City held no interest
 for him. Noticing that Jellia was faring quite well without her helmet and
 finding his rather stuffy, he took it off and slung it over one shoulder.
 As he did so, he caught the Queen in the very act of pinching Jellia.
 Disgusted by such conduct, he sternly took her arm, and each time Kababe
 pinched Jellia, the Soldier would slap her fingers. After the fifth slap,
 the Queen peered at him with astonished admiration, for on this whole
 Tip-toposphere there was no man bold enough to strike a member of the
 reigning family. Soon Kababe was so fascinated by Wantowin's flowing green
 whiskers, she forgot all about pinching Jellia. By this time the strange
 and still faintly cheering procession had reached Strut's Royal Canopy.
 Waving away his giggling Bowmen, Strut lifted Jellia to one of the splendid
 Star Thrones.
To Kabebe King Strut spoke impatiently. "Don't you remember you were to see
 about the Guest Canopies?" Kababe dared not object, but looked quite
 displeased. "Just tell Bittsywittle to bring us a tray of air-ades and a
 wind pudding," ordered Strut, giving the Queen a jovial shove to help her
 on her way. "You'd like an air-ade, wouldn't you, little lady?" Poor Jellia
 shook her head no and then quickly changed it to yes. The furnishings of
 the Royal Pavilion were so rich and dazzling and the Star Throne so high
 and grand that she felt completely bewildered. As Kabebe shuffled away,
 Jellia smiled nervously at Nick and the Soldier. At Strut's invitation they
 had seated themselves cross-legged on bright-blue air cushions and looked
 as uncomfortable as they felt.
"Well, what do you think of Stratovania by now?" inquired Strut, settling
 back complacently. "I believe you will all enjoy high life as much as we do
 once you are used to it."
Nick Chopper was on the point of saying they had no intention of getting
 used to it or of staying one single moment longer than was positively
 necessary when he caught Jellia's worried expression and muttered instead,
 "Beautiful, very beautiful."
"But where are the houses?" asked the Soldier with Green Whiskers bluntly.
 "These tent tops are all right for a war or for field sports, but I should
 think you'd find them rather chilly for all year 'round living."
"Stratovania," explained Strut as he crossed his long legs, "is never
 chilly. It is surrounded by a rim of warm air that keeps the temperature
 just as you find it today. No wind, no rain, no storms of any kind," he
 concluded proudly.
"And it's all so bright and shiny," sighed Jellia Jam, blinking down at the
 floor of the pavilion, which was an inlay of sparkling glass, and then off
 to the countless bright canopies that dotted the airscape beyond. The
 surface of Strut's curious Skyland was of gleaming crystal, sometimes
 smooth as ice, sometimes rough and rocky, but always flashing with the
 brilliance of diamonds. "Everything sparkles so," finished Jellia, rather
 wishing she had brought her dark glasses.
"That's because Stratovania is formed of solid air," smiled Strut, tapping
 one of the iridescent posts that supported the silken canopy over their
 heads. "And I am its High and Mighty Sovereign, ruler of the Spikers who
 inhabit the strata below and of the Zoomers who inhabit the strata above,
 and of all the other spheres and half-spheres in this particular area.
 Strut of the Strat! Consider THAT, Little One, and be proud that you have
 been chosen to be our Starina!"
"But Jellia can't stay here!" cried the Soldier with Green Whiskers,
 springing indignantly to his feet. "Jellia'sFF20C4"
"Tut! Tut! Now do not excite yourself! Here comes Bittsywittle, and we'll
 all have a glass of liquid air." As Strut leaned forward to speak to his
 small, electric-haired page, Jellia shook her head sharply at Nick and the
 Soldier, for both seemed on the point of dragging her off the throne.
"Wait!" Jellia formed the word soundlessly, and with puzzled frowns her two
 friends sank back on their air cushions, accepting rather glumly the
 sparkling goblets of air-ade from the light-footed servitor. With the
 air-ade Bittsywittle passed heaping saucers of wind pudding, a fluffy,
 cloud-like confection that made Jellia's mouth positively water.
"You will find the diet here light but nourishing," Strut informed them
 blandly. "Our atmosphere is so rare and exhilarating, we need little but
 sun and starlight to keep us going. But now, friends, I propose a toast to
 Jellia, our new Starina!" As Nick and Wantowin rose unwillingly to their
 feet, for the whole affair struck them as perfectly preposterous, Strut
 lifted his glass and downed his air-ade. Then the Soldier rather sulkily
 drank his. Nick, who never partook of food or drink of any kind, set his
 goblet on a small tabouret and stared sadly at Jellia Jam. The Tin Woodman
 feared she was seriously considering Strut's proposal. Jellia surmised what
 Nick was thinking, but as there was no way of explaining that she was just
 trying to gain time till they could find some way to escape, she smiled
 wanly back at him and swallowed her own air-ade.
Suddenly Jellia felt herself rising into the air. Before she could utter a
 sound, her head was pressed tightly against the top of the canopy. Then,
 dizzily, she began to float 'round and 'round like a pretty balloon just
 let off its string.
"Ho, Ho!" roared Strut. "Our air-ade has made you light-headed, m'lass! But
 wait, I'll fetch you down!" He tapped the winged staff he held in his right
 hand sharply on the floor. Instantly, it spread its wings, carrying him up
 beside Jellia. Grasping her hand, he drew her down to the throne.
"There," he chuckled, handing her a heavy glass globe to hold, "that will
 weigh you down!" Reflecting that one of these winged sticks might be a
 handy thing to have, Jellia clutched the glass globe. Still weak and giddy
 from her flight, she could not bring herself to touch the wind pudding
 Bittsywittle had placed on the arm of the throne. The Soldier with Green
 Whiskers, on account of his heavy weapons and boots, had not gone so high
 as Jellia, but even he, instead of sitting on his air cushion, was now
 seated on nothing C4 three feet above Nick Chopper's head. He looked
 extremely unhappy, as indeed he was.
"Don't worry," grinned Strut, who seemed highly amused by the whole affair,
 "you'll come down presently." He tapped his winged staff on the head as he
 spoke, and the staff immediately folded its wings. "Tell me," he urged,
 turning to Nick Chopper, who was looking anxiously from the Soldier to
 Jellia. "Do you come from below or be-high?"
"Be-oth," answered the Tin Woodman, too confused by this time to know what
 he was saying. "Taking off from the Emerald City of Oz, we first flew up,
 then over, then up and next down!"
"Hmmm-mmmn, OZ?" Two very black clouds floated across Strut's transparent
 brow. "I seem to remember your mentioning Oz before! I seem to
 rememberFF20C4" Strut's voice was no longer pleasant, and watching his
 brow growing blacker and blacker, Jellia frantically sought to open the
 Wizard's kit bag. Unless she could release some more of the cheer gas,
 almost anything might happen.
Out of the third point of his left star eye, Strut saw what she was doing.
 "Don't fidget, my dear," he snapped crossly. "It is unbecoming for our new
 Starina of Stratovania to fidget or to unpack her own bag. HereFF20C4"
 Taking the kit bag from her, he tossed it carelessly beneath his throne.
 Jellia's heart sank. She hoped Nick would say no more about claiming
 Stratovania for Ozma. But the Tin Woodman, already launched upon a glowing
 description of their famous Fairy Land, was working up to that very point.
"One hundred and one thousand, eight hundred and sixty-seven feet below this
 airosphere," began Nick, taking a long breath, "lies the grand, grand and
 incomparable Fairyland of Oz. Oblong in shape, it is divided into four
 triangular Kingdoms. The Northern and Purple Land of the Gillikens is ruled
 by Jo King; the Blue, Western Land of the Munchkins by his Majesty King
 Cheeriobed; the Eastern, Yellow Land of the Winkies is governed by myself;
 the Southern Red Land of the Quadlings by Glinda, the Good Sorceress.
"But all of us are subject to the benign rule of Ozma, the young Fairy Ruler
 of the whole Kingdom. Her capitol, the Emerald City, in the exact center of
 Oz, is one of the most beautiful cities out of the world! Surrounding Oz
 and protecting it from invasions is a deadly desert, and in Ozma's
 possession are more jewels and treasure than you doubtless have seen in the
 whole of your air existence."
"Humph!" growled Strut, looking fiercer than ever. But paying no heed to the
 ominous storm clouds forming on his brow, Nick loftily proceeded. "Not only
 is Ozma possessed of more jewels than any other sovereign known, but in her
 castle are magic appliances that make her the most powerful of rulers. For
 instance, Ozma has a magic belt with which she can transport anyone
 anywhere. On her wall hangs a magic picture in which she can see what is
 happening to her friends or foes, right while it is happening. In her safe
 is a magic fan to blow away her enemies, and so many other strange
 instruments of magic I have not time to describe them. Among her advisors
 is the famous Wizard of Oz, who spends all his time studying magic and
 perfecting new inventions. The Ozoplane in which we made this perilous
 flight is his latest masterpiece. And now that you know a bit more of Ozma
 and her famous country, I am sure you will be delighted to become a part of
 our happy realm and acknowledge Ozma as the Supreme Sovereign of
 Stratovania."
"What?" screamed Strut, bounding off his throne and furiously confronting
 the Tin Woodman. "How DARE you suggest such a thing? This is the second
 time you have done so! Why should I, Strut of the Strat, acknowledge this
 miserable earthlander as my supreme anything? I am a thousand times richer
 and more important than any Belowlander below. Oz! OZ! Indeed!"
As Nick backed off in alarm, Strut shook his long staff over the Tin
 Woodman's head. "Why, you can't even pronounce the name of your own
 country!" he sneered. "It is not Oz, as you say it, but OHS C4 the Zone of
 Ohs, to be more correct. And if Ohs is in the zone of Ohs, it is Ozone,
 which means AIR C4 and that makes it belong to ME! So I, Strut of the
 Strat, hereby do claim OZONIA for myself and my people, and you, my fine
 Mr. Funnel Top, shall take me there!"

CHAPTER 8
STRUT OF THE STRAT SETS OFF FOR OZ
"Don't you do it! Don't you do it!" Plumping down on his air cushion, for
 the effects of the air-ade had worn off at last, the Soldier with Green
 Whiskers wildly sounded retreat on his green bugle. Jellia, knowing he
 would run as fast as he could and perhaps wreck the Ozoplane before she and
 Nick could reach it, jumped off her throne and seized him by the coattails.
 As she did so, Strut gave the glass gong beside him a resounding whack.
 Before any of the three travelers could take another step, the twenty
 Blowmen tramped back into the Royal Pavilion. The cheer engendered by the
 cheer gas had entirely evaporated by now, and they looked very grim indeed.
 At a signal from Strut, one seized Nick, a second the Soldier. A third was
 taking hold of Jellia when Strut sternly waved his aside.
"No, No! Not that one! She is our new Starina!" he told the Blowmen roughly.
 "Now, you are to stay right here, Jellia, my dear, and help rule over
 Stratovania while I descend to Ohs and take possession of that rich and
 prosperous country. And sooner than soon I will return, bringing you the
 magic treasure and jewels and the crown and scepter of this Ohsma!"
"Oh, but you musn't!" wailed Jellia, clasping her hands desperately. "Ozma
 is a $$real&& Princess and much more beautiful than I!"
"In that case, I shall bring Ohsma back and make her a Starina also!"
 promised Strut.
"Now Hippenscop," he directed, shaking his finger at the odd-looking page,
 "you and Junnenrump are to obey Jellia in everything. I'll leave three
 Blowmen here to protect our Starina. The others, and all of my able-bodied
 fighters, shall fly with me to Ohs."
"The Ozoplane holds only four!" cried Jellia, looking desperately over at
 Nick, who was struggling angrily to free himself from the Blowmen. But they
 had his arms pinioned behind his back, and the poor Tin Woodman was unable
 to help himself.
"Oh, that's all right!" answered Strut. "I and this Tin Emperor will ride in
 the Friend-ship, and the others will follow on their flying sticks, and
 soon I will return with all the treasures of Ohs!" As the Blowmen started
 away, shoving Nick and the Soldier with Green Whiskers ahead of them,
 Jellia felt so frightened and alone that she burst into tears.
"Oh, please, please, couldn't you leave the Soldier to keep me company?" she
 sobbed, wiping her streaming eyes on her sash.
"Of course, if you wish!" Motioning to the Blowmen, they picked up Wantowin
 as if he had been a sack of potatoes and tossed him roughly back into the
 Royal Pavilion. He landed with a clatter at Jellia's feet.
"But see here! I am not sure I can find the way back to Oz!" protested Nick
 Chopper as Strut fell into step at his side. "I happened upon this
 airosphere by the merest chance and have no idea in which direction Oz now
 lies."
"Just the same, I think you will take me there!" Strut grinned wickedly,
 tapping Nick on the shoulder with his staff. He already had sent Junnenrump
 to summon the army, and, glancing over his shoulder, Nick saw a thousand
 young airmen strutting along behind them. As they came to the shores of
 Half Moon Lake, Hippenscop came panting and gasping into view.
"Her Skyness the new Starina bade me give you this," he puffed, handing the
 Tin Woodman the small oil can the Wizard had given him at the party. Nick
 had forgotten all about his oil can, and without it he was likely to rust
 and become perfectly helpless. Taking it thankfully from the messenger, he
 hung it on a hook beneath his arm and headed reluctantly for the Oztober.
 Nick had no intention of flying Strut to the Emerald City. Even if he had
 to wreck the plane, he would find some way to keep the greedy airman and
 his legions from conquering Oz. Then he would return and rescue Jellia and
 the soldier.
But without a word to Strut, for argument at this point would have been
 useless, he mounted the ladder, walked through the cozy cabin, and seated
 himself in the pilot's chair. Strut paused on the top rung of the ladder
 before he entered. "Follow us closely, men," he commanded gruffly, "no
 matter how far or fast we fly." Strut's young warriors raised their flying
 staffs to show that they understood, and with a few final directions, the
 Stratovanian stepped over the sill, slammed the door of the Oztober and
 walked rapidly forward, examining everything with lively interest.
"So this dragon-body really flies?" he said, bending curiously over the
 navigator's table. "Ho, what's this? I thought you told me you had no way
 of finding the route back." Nick Chopper, much more surprised than Strut,
 picked up the tidy map that lay on top of the buttons. It certainly had not
 been there when he left the plane, but here it was now, showing the
 complete course they had taken since leaving the Emerald City. Concluding
 this was some of the Wizard's magic, Nick examined the map attentively.
 Each turn up or down, each mile east or west, was charted accurately.
"All you have to do is follow this in reverse," exclaimed Strut.
 Unaccustomed as he was to flying except by staff, he was nevertheless sharp
 enough to realize the value of a good map when he saw one. "And remember
 now, no tricks!" he warned sternly. "Land me safely in Ohs and you will be
 suitably rewarded. But land me anywhere else and you will be completely
 obliterated!"
Nick said nothing. Weary of Strut's threats and boasts, the Woodman touched
 the button to inflate the Oztober's balloon, and the "up," "south" and
 "fast" buttons. In the whirr and splutter of their takeoff, the Airlander's
 further remarks and directions were completely drowned out.

CHAPTER 9
JELLIA IN A FRIGHTFUL JAM
For a long time after the departure of the Tin Woodman and of Strut and his
 legions, Jellia sat forlornly on the Star Throne trying to stem the tears
 that coursed slowly down her cheeks. To be stranded on this high and
 dangerous airosphere was bad enough, but the thought of Strut flying off to
 destroy Ozma and steal all her treasures was more frightening still.
"What on airth shall we do?" questioned Jellia with a rueful smile of the
 Soldier with Green Whiskers, who was tramping morosely up and down the
 pavilion. Halting in his march, Wantowin shook his head dubiously.
"That I cannot say!" he murmured, taking off his cap and staring gloomily
 inside. "I have no standing in this country at all! But you, Jellia, are a
 Starina. Therefore you must decide what is to be done. And whatever your
 Majesty's orders may be, I will carry them out to the letter. $$To the
 letter!&&" declared Wantowin, standing up very straight and tall.
"Oh, bother `my Majesty'!" scolded Jellia. "You know perfectly well I didn't
 $$ask&& to be a Starina of this terrible place!"
"It is not what you want, but what you are that counts!" insisted the
 Soldier, stubbornly. "And there's no getting around it, Jellia, you $$are&&
 a Starina! So while you are deciding what is to be done, I'll just do a bit
 of reconnoitering. It might be well to know the lay of the air!"
"Wait!" cried Jellia as Wantowin started smartly down the steps. "Whatever
 you do, Wanny, don't run!" she implored earnestly. "You might easily run
 off the edge, and then where'd you be? So do please be careful, and if
 anything frightens you, run straight back here! Do you promise?"
"Nothing ever frightens me!" said the Soldier in an offended voice. Marching
 sternly down the steps, he was off at a double-quick, without even a glance
 over his shoulder. Feeling more alone than ever, Jellia sighed and folded
 her hands in her lap. But Wantowin's words, foolish as they were, had done
 her good. After all, she was a Starina, for the time being anyway. So,
 straightening her crown and drying her tears, Jellia tried to think how she
 should act under such bewildering circumstances.
How would Ozma act, for instance, if she were sitting on the throne of this
 singular airtry? Even thinking of the gentle and dignified little Girl
 Ruler of Oz steadied Jellia. Holding her head very high, she stepped down
 from the dais and began pacing slowly up and down the pavilion, switching
 her green skirts in such a regal manner that the two messengers who had
 returned quietly to their posts stared at her with new interest and
 admiration.
"Is there anything we might bring your Stratjesty?" asked Junnenrump, bowing
 from the waist and clicking his heels smartly together. At his question
 Jellia paused and eyed the two speculatively.
"Why, yes," she decided after a moment's thought. "You, Junnenrump, may send
 someone to amuse me, and you, Hippenscop, may bring me two of those winged
 staffs. It is neither safe nor proper for a Starina and her Army to be
 without them!"
"But your Skyness!" Hippenscop leaped into the air and spun round and round
 in an agony of embarrassment. "There are no extra staffs!" he blurted,
 finally coming to a stop before her. The little fellow looked so
 distressed, Jellia was on the point of letting him off. Then, remembering
 just in time that she was bound to be obeyed, she raised her arm.
"Go!" she commanded haughtily. "And do not return without two winged
 staffs!" Junnenrump already had started, and at Jellia's stern command
 Hippenscop backed dejectedly down the steps, his eyes bulging with dismay
 and consternation.
"If Wanny and I had flying sticks, we'd at least be as well off as the rest
 of these Airlanders," reasoned Jellia, resuming her walk. "But what funny
 names," she mused as the messengers disappeared in two different directions
 and at two different speeds. "They make me think ofFF20C4" Here Jellia
 took a little run and jump, following it with a skip and a hop. "I
 suppose," she continued, talking conversationally to herself, "that is what
 their names really mean, everything is so mixed up here." Regaining her
 throne in one long slide, Jellia brought up with a slight start. This, she
 decided, was no way for a Starina to act. Smoothing down her dress, she
 walked sedately to Strut's throne and reached underneath.
The real reason she had got rid of the messengers, of course, was so she
 could recover the kit-bag and have a chance to examine its contents without
 being observed. The cheer gas had saved them on one occasion, and perhaps
 there was magic powerful enough to enable her and the Soldier to escape
 from the airosphere before Strut returned. The bag was still there, and
 snatching it up in her arms, Jellia climbed back on the throne. But just as
 she was about to zip it open, Junnenrump bounded up the steps of the
 pavilion, dragging a lean old Skylander by the hand.
"His Majesty's Piper!" announced Junnenrump, giving the Piper a shove
 forward and seating himself expectantly on the messenger's bench. Jellia
 was annoyed to have Junnenrump return so soon. But since she had sent for
 someone to amuse her, she could not very well object. So, resting her chin
 in her hand, she looked curiously at the Royal Piper. The old Skylander was
 tremendously tall and thin. His tunic was short and plaited, and under his
 arms he carried a pair of enormous bagpipes. Jellia had never cared for
 bagpipes, but on an airosphere she supposed wind instruments such as this
 naturally would be popular. The Piper, however, did not immediately play on
 his pipes. Instead, he struck a few light and pleasant chords on the top
 buttons of his tunic.
"Shall I do a buck and wing, or a little Skyland fling?
Shall I sing a little sing, for you, Dear?"
bawled the Piper cheerfully. He looked so funny that Jellia burst out
 laughing. Thus encouraged, the Piper proceeded to sing, punctuating his
 song with extraordinary leaps and toe tappings.
"When we Skylanders feel low, we just Dance the stratispho;
"Step it high, kick and fly, toss the Partner up ski-high. High HO!
"Would you care to try it?" he asked politely, holding out his hand to
 Jellia.
"No, No! Not today!" gasped the Oz maid, backing as far as the star throne
 would allow. "But I've really enjoyed watching you very much, and your
 singing is lovely," she added generously.
"Ah, but wait until you hear me play," puffed the Piper. Raising his pipes,
 he blew forth such a hurricane of whistles, squeals and fierce thunderings
 that poor Jellia clapped both hands to her ears. "Tell him to go away," she
 screamed above the awful din, wildly motioning to Junnenrump, who was
 tapping his foot in time to the pipes and looking highly diverted. "Tell
 him to come back tomorrow."
The fierce music of the bagpipes had brought airlanders running from every
 direction. Crowding round the pavilion, they waved and bowed to the new
 Starina. Realizing she never would have any privacy under the Imperial
 Canopy, Jellia slipped off her throne. The messenger had the Piper by the
 tunic tails and was easing him gently down the steps. Jellia waited till
 they reached the bottom, then, as all the airlanders began to run after the
 still furiously pumping piper, Jellia started in the opposite direction.
 Surely somewhere, she thought, clutching the kit-bag close to her,
 somewhere she could find a quiet corner or cave or clump of bushes where
 she could examine the contents of the Wizard's bag without interruption.
So anxious was Jellia to be by herself, she broke into a run. Failing to
 notice a crystal bar stretched across the path, she tripped and fell
 violently up a tune tree. Falling down is bad enough, but falling up is
 worse still. Jellia not only had barked her shins on the crystal bar, but
 had bounced into the air so high she lost her breath and plunged down so
 abruptly among the top branches of the tune tree that she was somewhat
 scratched and shaken. She knew it must be a tune tree because plump black
 notes grew in clusters like cherries between the leaves. Several, dislodged
 by her fall, broke into gay little arias and chords. At any other time
 Jellia would have been quite interested, but now she was too agitated and
 upset to care.
"Such a country C4 or airtry!" groaned the Oz maid, rubbing her left ankle
 and her right knee. "One can't even fall down in their own way!" Parting
 the branches, the ruffled little girl looked crossly out. It was quite a
 long way to the ground, but nevertheless Jellia decided to climb down. But
 suddenly it occurred to her that the top of the tune tree was as good a
 place as any to open the kit-bag. Easing herself to a larger limb, she
 balanced the bag carefully in her lap and stretched out her hand to pull
 the tail. Then a piercing scream and the thump of a hundred footsteps made
 her draw it back in a hurry. Parting the branches of the tree for a second
 time, she saw Wantowin Battles running toward her like the wind.
"Help! Help! Save me!" yelled the Soldier with Green Whiskers. And he had
 reason to yell, for just two leaps behind him panted Kabebe, waving an
 enormous crystal rolling pin. After the Queen pounded the three big
 Blowmen, and after the Blowmen came nearly a hundred men, women and
 children. Before Jellia had time even to guess why they were chasing the
 Army, Wantowin tripped over the same crystal bar that had caused her upfall
 and landed with a terrific grunt in the branches beside her, scattering
 half- and quarter-notes in every direction. The Airlanders stopped short
 and watched with breathless interest as the Soldier disappeared into the
 thick foliage of the tune tree.
"What's the matter? What happened?" whispered Jellia, reaching out to steady
 the soldier, who was bouncing wildly up and down on a nearby limb.
"YOU?" gasped Wantowin, almost losing his balance at the shock of seeing
 her. "Oh, Jellia! We must leave at once! AT ONCE! As I was passing the
 cooking caves, Kabebe rushed out and grabbed me. She has decided to blow us
 away most any minute now. She has persuaded the Airlanders that Strut is
 lost and never will return. Oh why, WHY, did we ever fly to this terrible
 place?"
"Be quiet!" hissed Jellia, frightened almost out of her wits at this new
 turn of affairs. "How can I think with you making all that noise?"
"Come down! Come down!" bawled Kabebe. "Come down before I shake you down!"
 Grasping the trunk of the tune tree, she gave it a playful shake.
"You might as well go down," she whispered resignedly as the Queen gave the
 tree a tremendous shake that nearly dislodged them both.
"Not without you," shivered Wantowin, hugging his branch for dear life.
"Oh, well, let's get it over with," said Jellia despairingly. "Blowing away
 may not be so bad, and I'd rather do anything than stay up here." Tucking
 the kit-bag under one arm, Jellia swung herself down by the other and
 dropped lightly to the ground.
"What is the meaning of this outrageous behavior?" she demanded as Wantowin
 dropped fearfully beside her. "His Majesty shall hear of this, I promise
 you."
Kabebe, astonished to see Jellia as well as the Soldier with Green Whiskers
 drop out of the tree, took a hasty step backward. Jellia quickly followed
 up her advantage. "I'm amazed!" she said sternly. "I thought you knew that
 I was to help you rule while King Strut is away!" At this bold speech,
 Wantowin looked at Jellia in round-eyed admiration. Though her cheeks were
 scratched and her crown slightly askew, the little Waiting Maid looked
 every inch a ruler's helper, if not a ruler. Even the Blowmen began to
 shift uneasily from one foot to the other, their mouths falling open at
 Jellia's indignation. But Kabebe raised both arms and fairly screeched at
 the little Oz Maid.
"How dare you speak to me like that?" she shrieked. "King Strut is lost and
 never will return! I am Queen here, and I don't need your help! Blowmen!
 Seize this impudent pair, march them to the edge of the cliffs, and blow
 them away." The crowd of Stratovanians looked uncertainly from Kabebe to
 Jellia.
"His Highness left you here to $$protect&& me!" Jellia reminded them
 sternly. But even as she spoke, she knew they had decided to obey Kabebe.
 She was flashing her star eyes so threateningly and waving her winged stick
 to close to their heads that the Blowmen were afraid to defy her.
"Come along now," grumbled the first Blowman, taking Jellia roughly by the
 arm. "You've caused enough trouble here!"
The other two Blowmen seized the trembling Soldier and began marching
 sternly toward the edge of Strut's Skyland. Jellia pulled back with all her
 strength, as also did Wantowin, but hustled along by the huge Skylanders
 they could do little to help themselves. Relentlessly, with the jeering
 citizens of Stratovania running along after them, the unfortunate Oz pair
 was dragged on.
"Just wait till your Master hears about this," sobbed Jellia as the Blowmen
 shoved them as near to the edge of the cliffs as they dared go themselves.
 Then they stepped back to lift their horns. Jellia had managed to retain
 her hold on the Wizard's kit-bag, but even so she felt that their last
 moment had come.
Jellia gave a final sad little wave to the Soldier, who really was quite
 brave now that his doom had arrived. The Blowmen pointed their horns
 straight at them, but before they even could inflate their cheeks, a fierce
 roar and splutter from the clouds caused every head to turn upwards.
"The ship, the ship! The flying ship!" cried the First Blowman, letting his
 horn fall disregarded to the ground.
"It's Strut!" screamed the Stratovanians, treading on one another's toes in
 their sudden frenzy to be out of sight of their Master when he landed.
"FF20'Tis the Master himself!" cried the first Blowman, yanking Jellia and
 the Soldier back from the edge of the Skyland. Pulling Kabebe along with
 them, the Blowmen ran as never before, closely followed by Strut's
 scurrying subjects. One moment later there was not a single airbody in
 sight. Convinced that their cruel and brilliant ruler had returned, they
 ran like rabbits. Some even flew, helping themselves along with their
 winged staffs, while Jellia, sinking on a large crystal boulder, stared
 dazedly at the silver-bodied plane dropping rapidly toward them.
"It can't be the Oztober!" cried Jellia delightedly. "It couldn't have come
 back so soon!"
"It's $$not&&!" cried Wantowin Battles, tossing up his cap and waving his
 arms exuberantly. "It's the other one, the Ozpril, and that meansFF20C4"
 In his extreme excitement, the Soldier tripped over a balloon bush and fell
 seven feet into the air. "It means the Wizard himself has come to help us,"
 sputtered Wantowin, blinking rapidly as he landed hard on the rock beside
 the young Oz maid. "Three cheers, Jellia! The Wizard of Oz has saved us!"

CHAPTER 10
THE WIZARD IN STRATOVANIA!
It was indeed the Ozpril, just as the Soldier with Green Whiskers had said.
 Even at a distance, Jellia could spell out the name on the gleaming body,
 and as the silvery plane came swooping toward them she could not repress a
 shout of joy.
Too exhausted by the dreadful ordeal she had just been through to run to
 meet the ship, she jerked off her scarf and waved it wildly over her head.
 About ten feet from the crystal boulder on which she had been sitting, the
 Ozpril came to a gentle and perfect landing. Scarcely had the whirr and
 sputter of its engine died away before the door of the cabin burst open,
 and down climbed the little Wizard of Oz, followed by Dorothy and the
 Scarecrow. The Cowardly Lion, last of all, had difficulty fitting his paws
 on the rungs and after a trembling descent rolled over on his back, his
 four feet straight up in the air. The trip had not agreed with the Cowardly
 Lion at all. Weak and dizzy, he made no attempt to rise.
"Here you are at last!" cried the Wizard happily, rushing over to Jellia and
 seizing both of her hands. "So THIS is where you've been! Well, I must say
 it's a fine place. Why, it's beautiful, beautiful!" Swinging round so he
 could look in all directions, the Wizard positively glowed with interest
 and enthusiasm.
"What's so beautiful about it?" growled the lion without turning over. "Is
 there any grass? Are there any trees? Is there anything to eat?" Dorothy,
 on the point of embracing Jellia, gave a little scream, for the
 Tell-all-escope, which she had picked up just before leaving the plane, was
 making terse announcements. At this point it happened to be pointed at
 Jellia. Clearing its throat, it remarked in a superior way:
"You are now looking at Miss Jellia Jam, formerly of Oz, at present new
 Starina of the Strat, by edict of Strutoovious the Seventh. Miss Jellia
 Jam, Starina of Stratovania! Period! Stop, drop or point elsewhere!"
"Why, $$Jellia!&&" gasped Dorothy, letting the Tell-all-escope fall with a
 crash. "Are you really? Oh my! I don't suppose you'll $$ever&& want to
 return to Oz now. Why, you must be having a wonderful time!"
"Humph!" sniffed Jellia with a slightly wan smile. "If being pinched, chased
 and nearly blown to atoms is having a wonderful time, then I guess I've
 been having it, all right!"
"Tell me," requested the Scarecrow, who had been walking in a slow circle
 around Jellia. "Does one prostrate oneself before a Starina, or does one
 merely kiss her hand?"
"Neither," laughed Jellia. Jumping up, she gave the Scarecrow such a hug he
 was out of shape for hours. "But quick! Let's all hop in the Ozpril and fly
 away before something terrible happens."
"Fly away?" cried the Wizard, shoving back his high hat. "But, my $$dear&&,
 we've only just come! I've been flying all night and need a little rest and
 refreshment before we start off again. Besides, I would like to see more of
 this interesting airland and its people and add to my data on the Strata."
"That's what Nick thought," observed Jellia, putting both her hands on her
 hips. "And look what happened to him!"
"What $$did&& happen to him?" demanded the Wizard, realizing for the first
 time that Nick was not among those present.
"You tell him," sighed Jellia to the Soldier. Sinking back on the boulder,
 she held her aching head in both hands. All eyes turned toward the Soldier
 with Green Whiskers, who opened and closed his mouth several times without
 saying a word. The Wizard, now thoroughly alarmed, began shaking him on one
 side and the Scarecrow on the other, until finally Wantowin took a
 tremendous swallow and gave them the whole story.
When the narrator reached the part where Strut had ordered Nick and him
 blown away, the Scarecrow hurried over to the balloon bush and began
 picking the almost-ripe balloons as fast as his clumsy cotton fingers would
 permit. Not till he had about twenty did he even pause. So light and flimsy
 was the straw man that the bunch of balloons on their long stems kept
 jerking him into the air. After each jerk he would give a little grunt of
 satisfaction.
"These are just to keep me aloftFF20C4 in case of accidents," he explained
 hastily to Dorothy, who was watching him intently.
"But what of us?" asked the little girl, looking anxiously toward the
 Canopied City, which at present seemed absolutely deserted.
"You say that this wretched Strut, after naming Jellia Starina, forced Nick
 to fly him to Oz?" exclaimed the Wizard, grasping Wantowin Battles by both
 arms and gazing into his face.
"Not only that," Wantowin told him hoarsely, "but he's taken his Blowmen and
 a thousand fighting men to conquer the country! He intends to bring back
 Ozma's crown, scepter, jewels and all the treasures in our castle!"
 finished the Soldier dolefully.
"Oh, can't we do something, Wizard?" cried Jellia determinedly. "I simply
 won't be Starina! I won't! I WON'T!"
"Just the same, you make a very pretty one," murmured the Scarecrow, patting
 the little Oz Maid consolingly on the shoulder. "But of course, we cannot
 allow this bounding airlander to take Oz!"
"If Nick had not `taken possession' of Stratovania for Ozma, he'd never have
 thought of it," groaned Jellia. Rising stiffly, she picked up the kit-bag
 from the crystal rock beside her.
"Ah, so you still have my magic kitty!" In spite of his anxiety, the Wizard
 smiled.
"Indeed I have," said Jellia firmly. "It saved us from being blown away. I
 used some of your cheer gas, Wiz, but I didn't have time to try out any of
 the other magic. Here, you'd better take it now, and do let's be starting.
 No telling when Kabebe and those three Blowmen will be coming back."
"Forward march! Forward march!" Wantowin Battles started off all by himself
 for the Ozpril. "Hurry, hurry!" he called over his shoulder. "If those
 fearful people return, they'll surely make trouble!" yelled the Soldier,
 his voice growing more emphatic.
"Well, it's certainly a mix-up," said Dorothy, moving closer to the Wizard.
"What do these people look like, Jellia?" she asked curiously. "Really, I'd
 enjoy seeing a few."
"They look like nothing you have ever imagined!" Jellia told her with a
 slight shudder. "Goochers! Here come some now! And oh, it's those Blowmen,
 and all the others! Look, Wizard! Could we reach the Ozpril before they
 reach us?"
"Let's not try," decided the Wizard as the Blowmen broke into a run. "Even
 if we made the plane, they might blow us to bits before I could get her
 started. Let's stay here and reason with them till I find something in this
 bag to help us."
"Oh, woe is we! Oh, woe is we!" gulped the Scarecrow, taking little runs and
 leaps into the air, hopeful that his balloons would lift him out of the
 danger zone as the threatening company drew closer. The Queen was marching
 grimly ahead of her subjects. In some way, decided Jellia, she had
 discovered Strut had not been in the silver plane. As the Wizard opened his
 kit bag, the little Oz Maid rushed over to the Cowardly Lion.
"Get up!" directed Jellia, giving him a desperate prod with her toe. "Get
 up! We need your growl C4 and LISTEN!" she begged as the big beast rolled
 over and blinked sleepily at the approaching airlanders. "Do everything I
 tell you, or we are lost, LOST!"
Dorothy concluded Jellia had been quite right about the inhabitants of
 Stratovania. They certainly were like no one she ever had seen, and she
 could not help admiring the bold way Jellia stepped out to meet her
 dangerous adversary.
"Just what are you doing here?" demanded Jellia, folding her arms and
 tilting up her chin. "Did I not order you to leave us strictly alone?
 Blowmen, take this Kabebe woman away!"
"Kabebe's our Queen," muttered one of the Blowmen, scowling at Jellia. "At
 least," he corrected, glancing at his comrades, "she is our Queen until
 Strut returns."
"What makes you think Strut has NOT returned?" questioned Jellia grandly.
 "Do you not recognize your Master?" With a regal wave, Jellia pointed to
 the Cowardly Lion. "Do you not believe that this is Strut C4 changed to
 this great beast by Ozma of Oz? But he is as powerful and able as ever to
 rule this Kingdom! Strut!" Imperiously, Jellia appealed to the Cowardly
 Lion. "Am I the Starina of Stratovania?"
The poor lion was as startled at Jellia's question as the Stratovanians.
 From sheer shock, he rose on his hind legs and let out a perfectly awful
 roar C4 which was perhaps as convincing an answer as he could have given.
"There! You see?" Jellia shrugged her shoulders as Queen Kabebe and the
 Blowmen turned white as ghosts and began to move away.
"It does sound like the Master," stuttered the Blowman as the Cowardly Lion
 followed up his roar with a reverberating growl.
"What are your Majesty's wishes?" inquired Jellia, inclining her head
 graciously toward the trembling lion.
"Take that woman away and have our supper prepared and served at once in the
 Royal Pavilion!" directed the lion in his most commanding roar.

CHAPTER 11
KING, KING C4 DOUBLE KING!
The effect of the Cowardly Lion's speech was astonishing indeed. The
 Stratovanians behind the Queen turned and ran for their lives. They started
 backing away so fast they fell up at every step, so that their progress was
 curious enough to watch. There were few animals on the airosphere, and
 certainly none that talked. Thoroughly convinced that the Cowardly Lion was
 Strut and Strut was the lion, his terrified subjects fled in all
 directions.
"Whew!" exclaimed the Wizard, snatching out his green handkerchief and
 mopping his moist forehead. "That was quick thinking, my dear. Good acting,
 too," he puffed, leaning down to give the lion an approving pat.
"Oh, wasn't he WONDERFUL?" Jellia hugged the lion so energetically he fairly
 gasped for breath.
"Not so hard for ME to play King," he wheezed when he managed to escape from
 Jellia's embrace. "After all, I AM the King of the Forest!"
"Well, however that may be, Jellia is certainly Starina of the Strat!"
 declared the Scarecrow. "I'm beginning to think Strut was right in choosing
 her! You've been wasting your talents in Oz, my dear, and you surely have
 earned a crown today!"
"But I don't want a crown!" asserted Jellia with spirit. Nevertheless, she
 was quite pleased at such high praise. "Now, look! Since the Cowardly Lion
 ordered supper in the Royal Pavilion, perhaps we'd better go. It will be as
 good a place as any to rest while we plan our next move."
"Hi there, is everything all right?" Wantowin Battles, who had hidden
 himself behind a crystal rock at the Blowmen's approach, now peered out
 nervously.
"For the present," called the Wizard, waving his kerchief, "for the present.
 Come along, Soldier, we're going to have supper in the Royal Pavilion!"
"Not I," said the Soldier, falling in step with the Scarecrow. "Count me out
 of that!"
"I'm sure I'll not be able to eat a bite," sighed Dorothy, picking up the
 Tell-all-escope. "How can you even think of supper with those awful airmen
 flying to the Emerald City? Oh, why don't we go after them now?"
"Because I do not believe Nick will take them to the Emerald City," said
 Jellia, straightening her crown. "He'll lose them somehow and then come
 back here for Wanny and me."
"My own deduction exactly," agreed the Wizard, walking briskly along beside
 Jellia. "But wherever Nick is, we'll find him same as we have found you."
"How did you find us?" asked Jellia, stopping short and staring up into the
 Wizard's face. "I've been wondering about that."
"Well, you see," explained the little magician impressively, "on the Ozpril
 there is a magnetic compass that shows the exact course taken by the
 Oztober, provided that both planes are in flight. By following the compass,
 I followed your exact route. The delay in our arrival was caused by the
 difference in speed!"
"Why, them, you saw the very same things we did," cried Jellia, nodding
 distantly to several airlanders who were bowing to the ground as the little
 procession passed.
"The very same," said the Wizard. Then, as a little afterthought, "By the
 way, what did you see?"
"Oh, nothing much but clouds, fog, an icecloud, and some flying airimals
 with spikes," Jellia told him briefly as she started up the long steps to
 the Royal Pavilion.
"The same with us," said the Wizard, taking out a little book and squinting
 hastily at the precisely written entries. "FF20`Clouds, fogs, spiked
 monsters.' AH!" He closed the book with a little exclamation of admiration.
 "So this is the seat of Government?"
"I must say I prefer a castle," observed the Scarecrow, jumping up the steps
 three at a time. "Still, all these columns are very pretty. Very pretty
 indeed!"
"Is my throne comfortable?" inquired the Cowardly Lion with a lordly sniff.
"That's right," giggled Jellia, "you $$will&& have to sit on the throne C4
 that is, if Wanny doesn't mind." The little maid turned mischievously to
 the Soldier with Green Whiskers. "After all, you are a kind of King, too!"
"Not on your life!" declared Wantowin violently. "I wouldn't trade one
 button on my uniform for all the jewels in Strut's crown, nor one blade of
 Oz grass for all the rocks in Stratovania!"
"Bravo! Bravo!" applauded the Scarecrow. Having tied his balloons to one of
 the pillars, he was bouncing up and down on a blue air cushion. "Try one,"
 he invited, shoving a couple toward the Wizard. Instead of one, the Wizard
 put three of the air cushions together and stretched out at full length.
"You can't imagine how tired a fellow grows after sixteen hours of flying,"
 he murmured drowsily. "Hah, hoh, HUM! I hope you girls will excuse me if I
 take a little nap."
"I wouldn't mind a nap myself," yawned Dorothy. Though she had dozed part of
 the night before, she felt extremely sleepy. Without much urging from
 Jellia, she curled up on a couch at the back of the pavilion and was asleep
 almost before her head touched the pillows.
"The best thing in the world for them," grinned the Scarecrow as Jellia
 looked rather nervously from one sleeper to the other. "We'll probably have
 to fly all night C4 if we get away from here at all! The Wiz needs a good
 rest before he does any more piloting."
"Yes," agreed Jellia with a sigh, "I suppose he does. But I hope the lion's
 not going to sleep, too." Climbing to her throne, Jellia gave him a good
 poke in the ribs. The lion, who was leaning back against the cushions with
 both eyes closed, shook his head.
"I never sleep on an empty stomach," he declared firmly. "Besides, a lion
 can go for days C4 if necessary C4 without rest or refreshment."
"Didn't you bring anything to eat at all?" inquired Jellia. Being terribly
 hungry herself, she could sympathize with the hungry beast.
"Oh," answered the lion without opening his eyes, "we did have a few square
 meal tablets the Wizard happened to have in his pocket. But while they fill
 you up, they don't seem to satisfy."
"Same with the food here," said Jellia.
"Food!" The Cowardly Lion's nose began to twitch with eagerness. "Where is
 any?"
"If I am not mistaken, supper is approaching now!" announced the Scarecrow,
 peering out through the side draperies of the Canopy. "Is this one of your
 many servants, my dear?"
"Oh, I suppose so," said Jellia as Bittsywittle trudged up the crystal steps
 balancing a huge tray on his head. He had been warned of the change in
 Strut, but the sight of the huge monster on the throne unnerved the little
 fellow, and he began to tremble so violently, the dishes on the tray danced
 a regular jig.
"Just put the tray on the table," directed Jellia patiently. "And don't
 jump, Bittsywittle! Strut won't bite you."
"How do you know I won't?" roared the Cowardly Lion, opening his eyes so
 wide Bittsywittle set down the tray and scuttled off like a hare. Without
 much enthusiasm, Jellia noted Kabebe had sent them six saucers of wind
 pudding and six glasses of air-ade."
"Don't touch it!" warned the Soldier with Green Whiskers as the lion
 slithered off the throne and ambled to the table. "It will make you feel
 very funny."
"Well, I'd rather feel funny than sad," said the lion, sniffing the pudding
 delicately, "and I'd rather feel funny than starve. Aren't you having any,
 Jellia?"
"No, thank you!" Jellia shook her head sharply and exchanged a quiet wink
 with Wantowin. But the Cowardly Lion did not notice the wink. Or at least
 he pretended not to and hurriedly lapped up all six saucers.
"Why, it's delicious!" he murmured rapturously. "DeliC4"
"Hey, where are you going?" The Scarecrow had been watching him enviously,
 for the pink pudding looked so good he almost wished he found it necessary
 to eat. But now he spun round in alarm, for without any warning at all the
 lion had swelled and puffed up like a carnival balloon and gone wafting
 upward to soar in dizzy circles over their heads.
"Oh, he's just putting on airs because he's King," teased Jellia, wishing
 Dorothy were awake to enjoy the fun.
"But he might easily float off," worried the Scarecrow, pursuing the
 luckless lion with outstretched arms. "Wait, I'll save you!" he puffed, and
 snatching the cord from a long bell pull, he leaped on Strut's throne.
 After several unsuccessful attempts, he managed to lasso the lion and tie
 him fast to the arm of the throne. "How do you feel?" he called
 solicitously, for the lion, with closed eyes and a desperate expression,
 was paddling his legs like a drowning dog.
"Oh, take it easy!" advised Jellia, relenting a little. "You'll float around
 all by yourself and come down presently as light as a feather. I know,
 'cause I've tried it. Hello, here's Hippenscop! Now I wonder what he wants.
 Oh! My goodness! He's actually brought me two of those flying sticks!"
"Flying sticks?" exclaimed the Scarecrow, sliding off Strut's throne. "You
 don't tell me!" The messenger by this time had reached the top step of the
 Pavilion. After a fearful look at the people from Oz, he advanced timidly
 toward Jellia.
"I have brought the flying sticks, your Majesty!" explained Hippenscop,
 holding them out with great pride and satisfaction. "I stole them from two
 sleeping watchmen and managed to bring them here without Kabebe seeing me."
"KABEBE?" said Jellia with an uncomfortable start. "Why, where is Kabebe?"
"In Star Park," whispered the Messenger hoarsely. "She's got all the people
 worked up and excited! They're coming here presently to blow you away!"
"What?" gasped Jellia in an exasperated voice. "Again? Why, she knows Strut
 will never allow that."
"But Kabebe says HE isn't Strut!" said the messenger with an apologetic bow
 toward the Cowardly Lion, who, paying no attention to the conversation, was
 floating in distracted circles above the throne. "Now Junnenrump and I
 believe your Majesty, and consider you the best and prettiest Starina
 Stratovania ever had! But no one else does, so first they are going to blow
 away the Friend Ship, and then they are coming here to blow $$you&& all
 away! So while I do not presume to give orders, if I were in your Majesty's
 place, I'd fly this very instant and while there still is time!"
"The boy is right," declared the Soldier, grabbing up his blunderbuss.
 "Company! Fall in! Forward, march!"
"Wake up! Wake up!" cried the Scarecrow, pummeling the Wizard with both
 hands. "The Airlanders are destroying our Ozoplane!" While Jellia, really
 touched by the messenger's loyalty, gave him one of her emerald rings,
 Wantowin Battles lifted Dorothy off the soft sofa and set her hastily on
 her feet.
"Forward! Forward!" he urged, pushing her ahead of him. "Kabebe's coming to
 blow us away!" Dorothy, blinking her eyes after a look at the Cowardly Lion
 floating over the throne, concluded she still was dreaming. But the Soldier
 kept shaking her till she finally realized she was awake and in danger.
"This way!" cried Jellia as the Wizard bounced off his cushions. "This way!
 The thing for us to do is to run to the other side of the airosphere. Then,
 while those villains are blowing the Ozpril away, we can be reaching the
 edge andFF20C4"
"And WHAT?" queried Dorothy, looking at Jellia with round, scared eyes.
 Jellia, for reasons of her own, did not answer. The Scarecrow already had
 retrieved his balloons. Now he pressed the cord, still attached to the
 Cowardly Lion, into Wantowin's hand.
"You must pull him along with you," directed the Scarecrow earnestly. "I am
 too light. And DO let's be starting!" The angry buzz of the crowd on its
 way to Half Moon Lake already could be heard. So without stopping to plan
 or reason the travelers from Oz slipped through the back curtains of the
 Royal Pavilion and began running as fast as they could toward the other
 side of Strut's curious air realm.
The Wizard, grasping his kit-bag in one hand and Dorothy by the other, went
 first. Next came Jellia, carrying the two flying sticks; the Scarecrow
 clutched his bunch of balloons. Last of all ran Wantowin, dragging the
 growling and disgusted lion after him through the air. Fortunately,
 Stratovania is long and narrow. In less time than they had dared hope, the
 little cavalcade came to the edge. Forbidding cliffs stretched along the
 whole coast, and the moist, blue air seemed actually to be breaking in
 great waves against the rocks. As they all gazed unhappily outward, a
 terrific "BOOM" made them all shudder.
"Well, there goes the Ozpril," mourned Jellia, patting the Wizard
 compassionately on the shoulder. The Wizard, looking very angry and grim,
 nodded his head. "Come on," puffed Jellia, stepping closer to the cliffs,
 "unless we want to go up with the ship, we've got to jump! And really, it's
 not so bad as it sounds! I've seen the airlanders fly with these winged
 staffs, and these two will have to do for us all."
"How do they work?" asked Dorothy in a faint voice.
"Why, you tap them once on the ground to start, and once on the handle to
 stop," explained Jellia breathlessly. "Now, suppose Dot and I and the
 Scarecrow ride one and Wiz and the Soldier the other. And for cake's sake,
 don't let go our lion!" added Jellia.
"But suppose he deflates and pulls us all down with his weight," groaned the
 Soldier. "Why can't he float along by himself?"
"Because I'm not going to have it!" said Jellia determinedly. "You must hold
 on to him and risk whatever happens! And if anything does happen, the
 Wizard will think of something!"
"I $$have&& thought of something!" said the Wizard composedly. "But first we
 must do as Jellia says. HARK! Isn't that Kabebe calling you?" As a matter
 of fact, it was. The Stratovanians, after witnessing the blow-off of the
 Ozpril, had rushed back to the Royal Pavilion. Furious at the disappearance
 of their victims, they now were rushing toward the crystal cliffs, the
 screams of Kabebe rising above all the rest.
"What do we do, ride 'em like broomsticks?" jabbered the Scarecrow as Jellia
 with shaking hands held out one of the sticks to the Wizard.
"A good idea!" approved the little magician, watching with deep interest as
 the wings on the tip of his staff opened and spread. "Come along, Soldier,
 or the mob will get you yet!" With wildly beating hearts, Dorothy and
 Jellia watched the Wizard and the Soldier mount the flying stick and boldly
 leap from the cliff's edge. The Cowardly Lion let out a terrified howl as
 he was dragged after them, but Jellia, Dorothy and the Scarecrow without
 further hesitation mounted their own staff and hurled themselves into space
 just as the Queen and her cohorts came panting into view.

CHAPTER 12
THE FLIGHT TO OZ
Keeping the flying sticks in a more-or-less level position so they would not
 slip off and at the same time pointing them downward required no little
 skill. The Wizard, being used to magic appliances, mastered his in
 double-quick time. But Jellia, who sat in front on the other staff, soared
 up for seventy feet and across for fifty before she learned the trick of
 flying it. During the first twenty minutes of their flight not a word was
 spoken. Each had enough to do to hold on, and the Cowardly Lion, hurtling
 through the air beside the Soldier with Green Whiskers, looked the picture
 of despair and discouragement. A dozen times Dorothy, after a glance
 downward, gave herself up for lost. But gradually the strangeness of their
 situation wore off. Passing out of the moist, clammy strata just below
 Strut's Kingdom into a drier and less-clouded area, the spirits of the
 little band of adventurers rose. The wings of each flying staff, though not
 large, were powerful as airplane propellers, and they flapped as
 rhythmically as the wings of a bird.
"Not exactly like riding in an Ozoplane!" called the Wizard, waving
 cheerfully to Jellia. "Still, it's better than falling, eh?" Jellia, who
 had maneuvered her staff to a position close to his, nodded emphatically.
"What worries me is the altitude!" she called back presently. "Somewhere or
 other we lost our air helmets. Will the effects of those altitude pills
 wear off before we're out of the strat?"
"No, we'll be all right," promised the Wizard. "My altitude pills condition
 one for the upper areas for several days at a time!"
"Oh! Then everything's splendid!" sighed Jellia, pushing back her curly
 locks and smiling at Dorothy.
"Unless we meet a meteor, and then our flight will soon be o'er," quavered
 the Scarecrow, waving his arm in a doleful circle.
"Now, now, don't anticipate!" advised the Wizard, guiding the staff with one
 hand and opening his kit bag with the other. For several moments he had
 been anxiously regarding the Cowardly Lion. The buoyancy resulting from the
 wind pudding was at last subsiding, and the swelled and bloated appearance
 of the unfortunate beast was fast disappearing. At almost any time now, the
 lion would become a dead weight. His poundage, added to the Wizard's and
 the Soldier's, would be too much for the flying staff, and they all would
 plunge like plummets to the earth. Feeling hurriedly around in the kit-bag,
 the Wizard pulled out a small black bottle.