Ozma had warned Dorothy to keep their journey a secret and say nothing to anyone about the Skeezers and Flatheads until their return, and Dorothy promised to obey. She longed to tell her girl friends, tiny Trot and Betsy Bobbin, of the adventure they were undertaking, but refrained from saying a word on the subject although both these girls lived with her in Ozma’s palace.

  Indeed, only Glinda the Sorceress knew they were going, until after they had gone, and even the Sorceress didn’t know what their errand might be.

  Princess Ozma took the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon, although she was not sure there was a wagon road all the way to the Lake of the Skeezers. The Land of Oz is a pretty big place, surrounded on all sides by a Deadly Desert which it is impossible to cross, and the Skeezer Country, according to the map, was in the farthest northwestern part of Oz, bordering on the north desert. As the Emerald City was exactly in the center of Oz, it was no small journey from there to the Skeezers.

  Around the Emerald City the country is thickly settled in every direction, but the farther away you get from the city the fewer people there are, until those parts that border on the desert have small populations. Also those faraway sections are little known to the Oz people, except in the south, where Glinda lives and where Dorothy has often wandered on trips of exploration.

  The least known of all is the Gillikin Country, which harbors many strange bands of people among its mountains and valleys and forests and streams, and Ozma was now bound for the most distant part of the Gillikin Country.

  “I am really sorry,” said Ozma to Dorothy, as they rode away in the Red Wagon, “not to know more about the wonderful Land I rule. It is my duty to be acquainted with every tribe of people and every strange and hidden country in all Oz, but I am kept so busy at my palace making laws and planning for the comforts of those who live near the Emerald City, that I do not often find time to make long journeys.”

  “Well,” replied Dorothy, “we’ll prob’bly find out a lot on this trip, and we’ll learn all about the Skeezers and Flatheads, anyhow. Time doesn’t make much diff’rence in the Land of Oz, ‘cause we don’t grow up, or get old, or become sick and die, as they do other places; so, if we explore one place at a time, we’ll by-an’-by know all about every nook and corner in Oz.”

  Dorothy wore around her waist the Nome King’s Magic Belt, which protected her from harm, and the Magic Ring which Glinda had given her was on her finger. Ozma had merely slipped a small silver wand into the bosom of her gown, for fairies do not use chemicals and herbs and the tools of wizards and sorcerers to perform their magic. The Silver Wand was Ozma’s one weapon of offense and defense and by its use she could accomplish many things.

  They had left the Emerald City just at sunrise and the Sawhorse traveled very swiftly over the roads towards the north, but in a few hours the wooden animal had to slacken his pace because the farm houses had become few and far between and often there were no paths at all in the direction they wished to follow. At such times they crossed the fields, avoiding groups of trees and fording the streams and rivulets whenever they came to them. But finally they reached a broad hillside closely covered with scrubby brush, through which the wagon could not pass.

  “It will be difficult even for you and me to get through without tearing our dresses,” said Ozma, “so we must leave the Sawhorse and the Wagon here until our return.”

  “That’s all right,” Dorothy replied, “I’m tired riding, anyhow. Do you s’pose, Ozma, we’re anywhere near the Skeezer Country?”

  “I cannot tell, Dorothy dear, but I know we’ve been going in the right direction, so we are sure to find it in time.”

  The scrubby brush was almost like a grove of small trees, for it reached as high as the heads of the two girls, neither of whom was very tall. They were obliged to thread their way in and out, until Dorothy was afraid they would get lost, and finally they were halted by a curious thing that barred their further progress. It was a huge web—as if woven by gigantic spiders—and the delicate, lacy film was fastened stoutly to the branches of the bushes and continued to the right and left in the form of a half circle. The threads of this web were of a brilliant purple color and woven into numerous artistic patterns, but it reached from the ground to branches above the heads of the girls and formed a sort of fence that hedged them in.

  “It doesn’t look very strong, though,” said Dorothy. “I wonder if we couldn’t break through.” She tried but found the web stronger than it seemed. All her efforts could not break a single thread.

  “We must go back, I think, and try to get around this peculiar web,” Ozma decided.

  So they turned to the right and, following the web found that it seemed to spread in a regular circle. On and on they went until finally Ozma said they had returned to the exact spot from which they had started. “Here is a handkerchief you dropped when we were here before,” she said to Dorothy.

  “In that case, they must have built the web behind us, after we walked into the trap,” exclaimed the little girl.

  “True,” agreed Ozma, “an enemy has tried to imprison us.”

  “And they did it, too,” said Dorothy. “I wonder who it was.”

  “It’s a spider-web, I’m quite sure,” returned Ozma, “but it must be the work of enormous spiders.”

  “Quite right!” cried a voice behind them. Turning quickly around they beheld a huge purple spider sitting not two yards away and regarding them with its small bright eyes.

  Then there crawled from the bushes a dozen more great purple spiders, which saluted the first one and said:

  “The web is finished, O King, and the strangers are our prisoners.”

  Dorothy did not like the looks of these spiders at all. They had big heads, sharp claws, small eyes and fuzzy hair all over their purple bodies.

  “They look wicked,” she whispered to Ozma. “What shall we do?”

  Ozma gazed upon the spiders with a serious face.

  “What is your object in making us prisoners?” she inquired.

  “We need someone to keep house for us,” answered the Spider King. “There is sweeping and dusting to be done, and polishing and washing of dishes, and that is work my people dislike to do. So we decided that if any strangers came our way we would capture them and make them our servants.”

  “I am Princess Ozma, Ruler of all Oz,” said the girl with dignity.

  “Well, I am King of all Spiders,” was the reply, “and that makes me your master. Come with me to my palace and I will instruct you in your work.”

  “I won’t,” said Dorothy indignantly. “We won’t have anything to do with you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” returned the Spider in a severe tone, and the next instant he made a dive straight at Dorothy, opening the claws in his legs as if to grab and pinch her with the sharp points. But the girl was wearing her Magic Belt and was not harmed. The Spider King could not even touch her. He turned swiftly and made a dash at Ozma, but she held her Magic Wand over his head and the monster recoiled as if it had been struck.

  “You’d better let us go,” Dorothy advised him, “for you see you can’t hurt us.”

  “So I see,” returned the Spider King angrily. “Your magic is greater than mine. But I’ll not help you to escape. If you can break the magic web my people have woven you may go; if not you must stay here and starve.” With that the Spider King uttered a peculiar whistle and all the spiders disappeared.

  “There is more magic in my fairyland than I dreamed of,” remarked the beautiful Ozma, with a sigh of regret. “It seems that my laws have not been obeyed, for even these monstrous spiders defy me by means of Magic.”

  “Never mind that now,” said Dorothy; “let’s see what we can do to get out of this trap.”

  They now examined the web with great care and were amazed at its strength. Although finer than the finest silken hairs, it resisted all their efforts to work through, even though both girls threw all their weight against it.

  “We must find some instrument which will cut the threads of the web,” said Ozma, finally. “Let us look about for such a tool.”

  So they wandered among the bushes and finally came to a shallow pool of water, formed by a small bubbling spring. Dorothy stooped to get a drink and discovered in the water a green crab, about as big as her hand. The crab had two big, sharp claws, and as soon as Dorothy saw them she had an idea that those claws could save them.

  “Come out of the water,” she called to the crab; “I want to talk to you.”

  Rather lazily the crab rose to the surface and caught hold of a bit of rock. With his head above the water he said in a cross voice:

  “What do you want?”

  “We want you to cut the web of the purple spiders with your claws, so we can get through it,” answered Dorothy. “You can do that, can’t you?”

  “I suppose so,” replied the crab. “But if I do what will you give me?”

  “What do you wish?” Ozma inquired.

  “I wish to be white, instead of green,” said the crab. “Green crabs are very common, and white ones are rare; besides the purple spiders, which infest this hillside, are afraid of white crabs. Could you make me white if I should agree to cut the web for you?”

  “Yes,” said Ozma, “I can do that easily. And, so you may know I am speaking the truth, I will change your color now.”

  She waved her silver wand over the pool and the crab instantly became snow-white—all except his eyes, which remained black. The creature saw his reflection in the water and was so delighted that he at once climbed out of the pool and began moving slowly toward the web, by backing away from the pool. He moved so very slowly that Dorothy cried out impatiently: “Dear me, this will never do!” Caching the crab in her hands she ran with him to the web.

  She had to hold him up even then, so he could reach with his claws strand after strand of the filmy purple web, which he was able to sever with one nip.

  When enough of the web had been cut to allow them to pass, Dorothy ran back to the pool and placed the white crab in the water, after which she rejoined Ozma. They were just in time to escape through the web, for several of the purple spiders now appeared, having discovered that their web had been cut, and had the girls not rushed through the opening the spiders would have quickly repaired the cuts and again imprisoned them.

  Ozma and Dorothy ran as fast as they could and although the angry spiders threw a number of strands of web after them, hoping to lasso them or entangle them in the coils, they managed to escape and clamber to the top of the hill.

  Chapter Three.The Mist Maidens

  From the top of the hill Ozma and Dorothy looked down into the valley beyond and were surprised to find it filled with a floating mist that was as dense as smoke. Nothing in the valley was visible except these rolling waves of mist, but beyond, on the other side, rose a grassy hill that appeared quite beautiful.

  “Well,” said Dorothy, “what are we to do, Ozma? Walk down into that thick fog, an’ prob’bly get lost in it, or wait till it clears away?”

  “I’m not sure it will clear away, however long we wait,” replied Ozma, doubtfully. “If we wish to get on, I think we must venture into the mist.”

  “But we can’t see where we’re going, or what we’re stepping on,” protested Dorothy. “There may be dreadful things mixed up in that fog, an’ I’m scared just to think of wading into it.”

  Even Ozma seemed to hesitate. She was silent and thoughtful for a little while, looking at the rolling drifts that were so gray and forbidding. Finally she said:

  “I believe this is a Mist Valley, where these moist clouds always remain, for even the sunshine above does not drive them away. Therefore the Mist Maids must live here, and they are fairies and should answer my call.”

  She placed her two hands before her mouth, forming a hollow with them, and uttered a clear, thrilling, bird-like cry. It floated far out over the mist waves and presently was answered by a similar sound, as of a far-off echo.

  Dorothy was much impressed. She had seen many strange things since coming to this fairy country, but here was a new experience. At ordinary times Ozma was just like any little girl one might chance to meet—simple, merry, lovable as could be—yet with a certain reserve that lent her dignity in her most joyous moods. There were times, however, when seated on her throne and commanding her subjects, or when her fairy powers were called into use, when Dorothy and all others about her stood in awe of their lovely girl Ruler and realized her superiority.

  Ozma waited. Presently out from the billows rose beautiful forms, clothed in fleecy, trailing garments of gray that could scarcely be distinguished from the mist. Their hair was mist-color, too; only their gleaming arms and sweet, pallid faces proved they were living, intelligent creatures answering the call of a sister fairy.

  Like sea nymphs they rested on the bosom of the clouds, their eyes turned questioningly upon the two girls who stood upon the bank. One came quite near and to her Ozma said:

  “Will you please take us to the opposite hillside? We are afraid to venture into the mist. I am Princess Ozma of Oz, and this is my friend Dorothy, a Princess of Oz.”

  The Mist Maids came nearer, holding out their arms. Without hesitation Ozma advanced and allowed them to embrace her and Dorothy plucked up courage to follow. Very gently the Mist Maids held them. Dorothy thought the arms were cold and misty—they didn’t seem real at all—yet they supported the two girls above the surface of the billows and floated with them so swiftly to the green hillside opposite that the girls were astonished to find themselves set upon the grass before they realized they had fairly started.

  “Thank you!” said Ozma gratefully, and Dorothy also added her thanks for the service.

  The Mist Maids made no answer, but they smiled and waved their hands in good-bye as again they floated out into the mist and disappeared from view.

  Chapter Four.The Magic Tent

  “Well,” said Dorothy with a laugh, “that was easier than I expected. It’s worth while, sometimes, to be a real fairy. But I wouldn’t like to be that kind, and live in a dreadful fog all the time.”

  They now climbed the bank and found before them a delightful plain that spread for miles in all directions. Fragrant wild flowers were scattered throughout the grass; there were bushes bearing lovely blossoms and luscious fruits; now and then a group of stately trees added to the beauty of the landscape. But there were no dwellings or signs of life.

  The farther side of the plain was bordered by a row of palms, and just in front of the palms rose a queerly shaped hill that towered above the plain like a mountain. The sides of this hill were straight up and down; it was oblong in shape and the top seemed flat and level.

  “Oh, ho!” cried Dorothy; “I’ll bet that’s the mountain Glinda told us of, where the Flatheads live.”

  “If it is,” replied Ozma, “the Lake of the Skeezers must be just beyond the line of palm trees. Can you walk that far, Dorothy?”

  “Of course, in time,” was the prompt answer. “I’m sorry we had to leave the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon behind us, for they’d come in handy just now; but with the end of our journey in sight a tramp across these pretty green fields won’t tire us a bit.”

  It was a longer tramp than they suspected, however, and night overtook them before they could reach the flat mountain. So Ozma proposed they camp for the night and Dorothy was quite ready to approve. She didn’t like to admit to her friend she was tired, but she told herself that her legs “had prickers in ‘em,” meaning they had begun to ache.

  Usually when Dorothy started on a journey of exploration or adventure, she carried with her a basket of food, and other things that a traveler in a strange country might require, but to go away with Ozma was quite a different thing, as experience had taught her. The fairy Ruler of Oz only needed her silver wand—tipped at one end with a great sparkling emerald—to provide through its magic all that they might need. Therefore Ozma, having halted with her companion and selected a smooth, grassy spot on the plain, waved her wand in graceful curves and chanted some mystic words in her sweet voice, and in an instant a handsome tent appeared before them. The canvas was striped purple and white, and from the center pole fluttered the royal banner of Oz.

  “Come, dear,” said Ozma, taking Dorothy’s hand, “I am hungry and I’m sure you must be also; so let us go in and have our feast.”

  On entering the tent they found a table set for two, with snowy linen, bright silver and sparkling glassware, a vase of roses in the center and many dishes of delicious food, some smoking hot, waiting to satisfy their hunger. Also, on either side of the tent were beds, with satin sheets, warm blankets and pillows filled with swansdown. There were chairs, too, and tall lamps that lighted the interior of the tent with a soft, rosy glow.

  Dorothy, resting herself at her fairy friend’s command, and eating her dinner with unusual enjoyment, thought of the wonders of magic. If one were a fairy and knew the secret laws of nature and the mystic words and ceremonies that commanded those laws, then a simple wave of a silver wand would produce instantly all that men work hard and anxiously for through weary years. And Dorothy wished in her kindly, innocent heart, that all men and women could be fairies with silver wands, and satisfy all their needs without so much work and worry, for then, she imagined, they would have all their working hours to be happy in. But Ozma, looking into her friend’s face and reading those thoughts, gave a laugh and said:

  “No, no, Dorothy, that wouldn’t do at all. Instead of happiness your plan would bring weariness to the world. If every one could wave a wand and have his wants fulfilled there would be little to wish for. There would be no eager striving to obtain the difficult, for nothing would then be difficult, and the pleasure of earning something longed for, and only to be secured by hard work and careful thought, would be utterly lost. There would be nothing to do you see, and no interest in life and in our fellow creatures. That is all that makes life worth our while—to do good deeds and to help those less fortunate than ourselves.”