<h2 id="c14"><span class="smaller">Chapter 14</span> <br/>Terror In Ozma’s Palace</h2>
<p>Meanwhile strange things had been happening
in Ozma’s palace. For the people inside it had
been a very mean time indeed. During Ruggedo’s run
to the mountains of Ev, they had almost been shaken
out of their wits and when he sat down upon the mountain
top there was not a person nor piece of furniture
standing in the whole palace. Courtiers and servants
who were not knocked senseless lay shaking in their
beds or huddled in corners and under sofas and chairs,
just as they had fallen when the first terrible crash
lifted the palace into the air.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_189">189</div>
<p>Ozma’s four poster bed had collapsed, pinning the
little Fairy Princess under a mass of silk hangings and
curtain poles. Being a fairy, Ozma was unhurt, but
not being able to move, nor to reach her Magic Belt
or even make herself heard, she was forced to lie perfectly
still and wait for help.</p>
<p>In Dorothy’s sitting room there was not a sound but
the ticking of the Copper Man’s machinery. Trot and
Betsy Bobbin had knocked their heads together so
smartly that they were unconscious. Sir Hokus had
been hurled violently against Tik Tok and the poor
Knight had known nothing since. Dorothy lay quietly
beside him, an ugly bruise on her forehead, where the
emerald clock had landed.</p>
<p>“Scraps!” called the Scarecrow, sometime after the
rumble and tumble had ceased, “are you there?”</p>
<p>“No, here!” gasped the Patch Work Girl, sitting up
cautiously. She had bounced all around the room and
finally rolled into a corner quite close to the Scarecrow
himself. She put out her cotton hand as she
spoke and touched him.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_190">190</div>
<p>“How fortunate we are unbreakable,” said the
Scarecrow, pressing her cotton fingers convulsively
and trying to peer out through the intense blackness
of the room. “What happened?”</p>
<p>“Earthquake!” shivered Scraps. “And maybe it’s
not over!”</p>
<p>“Must have knocked everybody silly,” said the
Scarecrow huskily.</p>
<p>“Except us,” giggled the Patch Work Girl. “We
couldn’t be knocked silly ’cause we were silly in the
first place.”</p>
<p>“Now, don’t make jokes, please,” begged the Scarecrow.
“This is serious. Besides, I want to think.”</p>
<p>“All right,” said Scraps cheerfully. “I don’t—but
I’m going to feel around and see if I can find the
matches. There used to be some candles on the mantel
and—” As she spoke, Scraps fell headlong over Sir
Hokus of Pokes and as luck would have it her cotton
fingers closed over a small gold match box. Picking
herself up carefully, Scraps struck a match on Sir
Hokus’ armor and looked anxiously around the room.</p>
<p>“They need water,” said the Patch Work Girl,
wrinkling up her patchwork forehead.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_191">191</div>
<p>“So will you if you don’t blow out that match!”
cried the Scarecrow in alarm, for Scraps continued to
hold the match till it burned to the very end. He
jumped up clumsily and puffed out the light just in
time. Scraps promptly lit another and as she did so
the Scarecrow saw a tall blue candle sticking out of
the waste basket.</p>
<p>“Here,” said the Straw Man nervously. “Light
this and stand it on the mantel there.” By the flickering
candle light the Scarecrow and Scraps tried to set
Dorothy’s room to rights. They dragged the mattress
from the bed-room and placed the little girls on it,
side by side. Sir Hokus was too heavy to move, so
they merely loosened his armor and put a sofa cushion
under his head. Then, just as Scraps was going for
some water, the room began to tremble again.</p>
<p>“I told you it wasn’t over,” cried Scraps, flinging
both arms about the Scarecrow’s neck. And as they
rocked to and fro she shouted merrily:</p>
<div class="verse">
<p class="t0">“Shaker! Shaker! Who art thee,</p>
<p class="t0">To shake a castle like a tree?</p>
<p class="t0">Shaker! Shaker! Go away</p>
<p class="t0">And come again some other day!”</p>
</div>
<p>“Now, Scraps,” begged the Scarecrow, steadying the
Patch Work Girl with one hand and catching hold of a
table with the other, “everything depends on us. Do
try to keep your head!”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_192">192</div>
<p>“Keep my head!” shrilled Scraps, as the room tilted
over and slid all the furniture sideways. “I’ll be lucky
if I keep my feet. Whoopee! Here we go!” And go
they did with a rush into the farthest corner. Slowly
the room righted itself and everything grew quiet
again.</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_202.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="600" height-obs="406" /></div>
<p>“I know what I’m going to do,” said the Scarecrow
determinedly. “Before anything else happens I’m
going to see what has happened already.”</p>
<p>“How?” asked Scraps, bouncing to her feet.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_193">193</div>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_203.jpg" alt="Dorothy and Toto" width-obs="450" height-obs="699" /> <p class="caption"><span class="sc">Dorothy and Toto</span></p> </div>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_194">194</div>
<p>“The Magic Picture,” gasped the Scarecrow. “You
bring the candle, Scraps, like a good girl. You’re less
liable to take fire than I am. Then we’ll come back
and help Dorothy and the others.”</p>
<p>“Good idea,” said Scraps, taking the candle from
the mantel. Breathlessly the two tip-toed along the
hall to Ozma’s apartment. On the wall in one of
Ozma’s rooms hangs the most magic possession in Oz.
It is a picture representing a country scene, but when
you ask it where a certain person is, immediately he
is shown in the picture and also what he is doing at
the time.</p>
<p>“So,” murmured the Scarecrow, as they gained the
room in safety, “if it tells where other people are, it
ought to tell us where we are ourselves.”</p>
<p>Drawing aside the curtain that covered the picture
the Scarecrow demanded loudly, “Where are we?”</p>
<p>Scraps held the candle so that its flickering rays
fell directly on the picture. Then both jumped in
earnest, for in a flash the face of Ruggedo, the wicked
old gnome King, appeared, on his head a great, green
towering sort of hat.</p>
<p>The Scarecrow seized the candle from Scraps and
held it closer to the picture. He squinted up one eye
and almost rubbed his painted nose off.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_195">195</div>
<p>“Great Kinkajous!” spluttered the Straw Man distractedly.
“That’s a palace on his head—an Emerald
palace—Ozma’s palace!”</p>
<p>“But how?” asked Scraps, her suspender button
eyes almost dropping out. “He’s nothing but a
gnome. He’s—”</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_205.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="600" height-obs="447" /></div>
<p>Before Scraps could finish her sentence the palace
began to tilt forward and they both fell upon their
faces. Then the picture jerked loose and fell with a
clattering slam on their heads, followed by such ornaments
as had not already tumbled down before.
Through it all Scraps held the candle high in air and
fortunately it did not go out, despite the turmoil.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_196">196</div>
<p>In a few moments the palace stopped rocking and a
muffled call from Ozma sent the Scarecrow and Scraps
hurrying to her bedside. After some trouble, for they
were both flimsily made, they managed to free the
little Princess of Oz from the poles and bed curtains.</p>
<p>“Goodness!” sighed Ozma, looking around at the
terrible confusion.</p>
<p>“Not goodness, but badness,” said the Scarecrow,
settling his hat firmly, “and Ruggedo is at the bottom
of it and of us.” He quickly explained to Ozma what
he had seen in the Magic Picture.</p>
<p>Slipping on a silk robe, Ozma followed them into the
next room. When the picture had been rehung, they
all looked again. This time Ozma asked where the
palace was. Immediately the old Gnome King appeared
and there could be no mistake—the palace was
set squarely on his head. The picture did not show
the real size of Ruggedo nor of the palace, but it was
enough.</p>
<p>“He must have sprung into a giant,” gasped Ozma,
scarcely believing her eyes. “Oh, what shall we do?”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_197">197</div>
<p>“The first thing to do is to keep him quiet. Every
time he shakes his head it tumbles us about so,” complained
the Scarecrow, plumping up the straw in his
chest. “And we must look after Dorothy and Betsy
and Trot.”</p>
<p>“And Sir Hokus,” added the Patch Work Girl,
flinging out one hand. “He’s yearning to slay a giant.
’Way for the Giant Killer!”</p>
<p>Without waiting for the others Scraps ran back to
Dorothy’s sitting room. Lighting another candle, for
all the lights in the palace were out, Ozma and the
Scarecrow followed.</p>
<p>“Odds Goblins!” gasped the Knight, as they entered.
He was sitting up with one hand to his head.</p>
<p>“Not goblins—giants!” cried the Patch Work Girl,
with a bounce, while Ozma ran for some water to
restore her three little friends.</p>
<p>“Where?” puffed the Knight, lurching to his feet.</p>
<p>“Beneath you,” said the Scarecrow, clutching at a
wisp of straw that stuck out of his head. “Say! Some
one wind up Tik Tok. There’s a lot of thinking to be
done here and his head works very well, even if it has
wheels inside.”</p>
<p>Sir Hokus, though still a bit dizzy, hastened to wind
up all the Copper Man’s keys.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” said Tik Tok immediately. “Give me a
lift up, Ho-kus.” The Knight obligingly helped the
Copper Man to his feet. Then both stared in amazement
at the topsy turvy room. Even in the dim candle
light they could see that something very serious had
occurred.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_198">198</div>
<p>Jack Pumpkinhead picked himself up out of a
corner, looking very much dazed.</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_208.jpg" alt="Jack Pumpkinhead" width-obs="400" height-obs="739" /> <p class="caption"><span class="sc">Jack Pumpkinhead</span></p> </div>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_199">199</div>
<p>Just then Dorothy opened her eyes, and Betsy and
Trot, spluttering from the water the Patch Work Girl
was pouring on their heads, sat up and wanted to know
what had happened. In a few words Ozma told them
what the magic picture had revealed.</p>
<div class="verse">
<p class="t0">“Ruggedo to a giant’s grown</p>
<p class="t">And set us on his head.</p>
<p class="t0">We’ve made some headway, you’ll admit,</p>
<p class="t">Since we have gone to bed!”</p>
</div>
<p class="pnindent">—shouted Scraps, who was growing more and more
excited.</p>
<p>“Rug-ge-do will nev-er re-form,” ticked the Copper
Man sadly.</p>
<p>“But what are we going to do?” wailed Dorothy.
“Suppose he leans over and spills us all out?”</p>
<p>“I shall take my sword,” said Sir Hokus, speaking
very determinedly, and backing toward the window as
he spoke, “climb down, and slay the villain.” He
threw one leg over the sill.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_200">200</div>
<p>“Come back!” cried Ozma. “Dear Sir Hokus, don’t
you realize that if you kill Ruggedo he will fall down
and break us to pieces? Besides, wicked as he is, I
could not have him killed.”</p>
<p>“Yes, we should be all broken up if you did that,”
sighed the Scarecrow. “We must try something else.”</p>
<p>Reluctantly, the Knight dropped back into the
room. “Close the windows,” ordered Ozma with a
little shudder.</p>
<p>“I’ve thought of a plan,” said Tik Tok, in his slow,
painstaking way. “A ve-ry good plan.”</p>
<p>“Tell us what it is,” begged Dorothy. “And Oh,
Tik Tok, hurry!”</p>
<p>“Eggs,” said the Copper Man solemnly.</p>
<p>“Oh!” gasped Dorothy, “I remember. Eggs are the
only things in Oz that Ruggedo is afraid of; for if an
egg touches a gnome he shrivels up and disappears.”</p>
<p>“Then where are the eggs?” demanded Sir Hokus
gloomily. “In faith, this sounds more like an omelet
than a battle. But if we’re to fight with eggs instead
of swords, let us draw them at once.”</p>
<p>“You mean throw them,” corrected Dorothy. But
Tik Tok shook his head violently.</p>
<p>“Not throw them,” said the Copper Man slowly,
“threat-en to throw them.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_201">201</div>
<p>“But how can we threaten a giant so far below us?”
asked Ozma.</p>
<p>“Print a sign,” directed Tik Tok calmly, “and
low-er it down to him.”</p>
<p>“Tik Tok,” cried the Scarecrow, rushing forward
and embracing him impulsively, “your patent-action-double-guaranteed
brains are marvels. I couldn’t have
thought up a better plan myself.”</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_211.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="600" height-obs="356" /></div>
<p>Now off ran Scraps to fetch a huge piece of cardboard,
and the Scarecrow for a paint brush, and Sir
Hokus for a piece of rope.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_202">202</div>
<p>“It’s growing lighter,” quavered Trot, looking toward
the windows. The sky was turning gray with
little streaks of pink, and the three girls huddled together
on the mattress gave a sigh of relief; for nothing,
not even a giant, seems so bad by daylight.</p>
<p>“Perhaps someone has already started to help us,”
said Ozma hopefully. “But here’s the sign board.
What shall we write?”</p>
<p>“How shall I begin?” asked the Scarecrow, dipping
the brush into a can of green paint. “Dear Ruggedo?”</p>
<p>“I should say not,” said Dorothy indignantly.</p>
<p>“Then I shall simply say, Sir,” said the Scarecrow.</p>
<p>“If you move or turn or shake your head a-gain, ten
thou-sand eggs will be hurl-ed from the pal-ace windows,”
suggested Tik Tok.</p>
<p>As this message met with general approval, the
Scarecrow set it down with many flourishes and
blotches of paint spilled between. Then Ozma painted
her name and the Royal seal of Oz at the end.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, with the help of a pair of field glasses,
Sir Hokus had located Ruggedo’s nose, sticking out
like a huge cliff below the middle window of Dorothy’s
room. So, tying a long rope to each corner of
the sign, and rolling it up so it would go through the
window, the Knight let it down till it dangled directly
in front of Ruggedo’s nose.</p>
<p>At first Ruggedo did not even see the sign, which
was about as large as the tiniest visiting card—compared
to him. But it blew against his face and tickled
his cheek. He tried to brush it away. Then, suddenly
noticing it was dangling from above, he seized it in one
hand and held it close to his left eye. The words
were so small for a giant that Ruggedo had to squint
fearfully before he could make them out at all, but
when he did he gave a bloodcurdling scream, and
began to tremble violently.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_203">203</div>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_213.jpg" alt="“Ruggedo gave a bloodcurdling scream and began to tremble violently”" width-obs="500" height-obs="672" /> <p class="caption">“<span class="sc">Ruggedo gave a bloodcurdling scream and began to tremble violently</span>”</p> </div>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_204">204</div>
<p>Up in the palace the entire company fell over and
twenty windows were shaken to bits. Then everything
grew quiet and there was perfect silence; for
Ruggedo, realizing his danger, grew rigid with fright.
Giant drops of perspiration trickled down his forehead.
How long could he keep from moving?</p>
<p>“Well,” said Dorothy after a few minutes had
passed, “I guess that will keep him quiet, but what
next? Shall we let ourselves down with ropes?”</p>
<p>“We have none long enough,” said Sir Hokus.</p>
<p>“Then I’ll fall out and go for help,” said the Scarecrow
brightly, and started toward the window. When
he reached it he paused in astonishment. “Look,” he
cried, waving excitedly to the others, “here comes
someone, walking right over the clouds.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_205">205</div>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_215.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="500" height-obs="519" /></div>
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