“Oh, good!” growled the Lion disgustedly. “I certainly picked a fine place. There’s a rock here almost as big as you are.” He inserted a paw under the rock and pulled experimentally. Much to his surprise it rolled away easily, uncovering a hole big enough for them to squeeze through.
“This must be it,” whispered Dorothy. The Lion nodded and rolled the stone back, covering the opening.
“Don’t do that!” Dorothy protested. “Let’s go!”
“We can’t,” explained the Lion. “If we just disappear, Faleero will be sure to get suspicious. Go in and ask her if we can take a little trip; tell her—tell her we want to visit Ojo. Then get a big basket of food—and don’t forget to bring a box of matches. We’ll need light in that tunnel.”
“That’s right,” agreed Dorothy. “But I hate to face Faleero again. I don’t think I could sit through another meal with her — and as for calling her ‘Ozma’—Ugh! I’ll hunt her up though, and we’ll leave right away. You wait by the Fountain.“
At the Palace, she found Faleero and Kettywig (I can’t call them Ozma and the Wizard any more, either…!). Looking at the sweet face of the Princess, Dorothy found it hard to believe that this was not her beloved friend and bitterly regretted the necessity for deceiving her. But she knew that the fate of the real Ozma was in her hands; she forced herself to smile at Faleero.
“Would you mind,” she asked, “if the Lion and I went to Seebania to visit Ojo? I suppose we’ll be gone a week or two.“ Faleero was delighted at the chance to get Dorothy away, and consented graciously. Dorothy then went out to the kitchens where the cooks prepared a huge basket of food. Before she left, Dorothy slipped a box-of matches into her pocket.
At the Fountain, the Lion nervously awaited her return, and greeted her with relief. Looking around to ensure that they were not observed, they entered the clump of bushes. The Lion rolled back the stone.
CHAPTER IV
IN THE TUNNEL
The Lion shuddered as he peered down into the black hole. “I certainly wish there were some other way we could cross the Desert,” he muttered dismally. “You have no idea how scared I am of going down there.”
“Oh, yes I do,” breathed Dorothy tremulously. “I’m afraid too. But what else can we do? We’ve got to get to Jinnicky if we want to save Ozma, and that’s the only way we can do it. We’ve got to do something…!” Tears glistened in the little girl’s eyes.
The Lion licked her cheek. “Don’t cry, Dorothy,” he begged. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’ll do it. I can see fairly well in the dark, so it’ll really be worse for you. Can’t we find a torch or something?“‘ Dorothy nodded. She dried her tears and began hunting for dry sticks. They collected a bundle of them which she tied securely with her hair ribbon. Then, resolutely, they approached the black hole again.
“Don’t light a torch until we are in the tunnel,” cautioned the Lion. “Somebody might see you and come to investigate, and this would be very difficult to explain. I’ll jump down first and see how deep it is. Maybe you can stand on my back and pull the stone back over the hole. We shouldn’t leave it open, if we can help it.”
The Lion lifted his head to take a last long look at the light. “I’d rather face an army of Kalidahs than do this,” he observed mournfully. With that, he jumped, and Dorothy heard the thud as he landed. “It’s not far down,” she heard him say from the darkness. “Pull the stone as close to the hole as you can, and lower yourself to my back.”
The little girl pulled the stone over the hole, leaving just room enough to squeeze through.
Lowering herself into the blackness took every bit of her courage. “But it’s the only possible way,” she told herself practically, and dropped over the edge. There was a moment of freezing terror as she hung by her hands in the bottomless blackness. Then, with a sob of relief, she felt the Lion’s strong back move into place under her feet.
Standing on his back, she pulled and tugged at the stone until it rolled directly over the hole, covering it completely.
“Good thing it didn’t crash through on top of us,” grunted the Lion. “Light one of those sticks, please. Quick, before I jump out of here.”
“We couldn’t jump back out now if we wanted to,” Dorothy returned soberly. “I could never move that stone from down here.”
“Just as well,” shuddered the Lion. “Now we have to go on —we haven’t any choice. Please hurry up with that light.” Dorothy fumbled in her pocket for a match. Striking it, she lighted one of the sticks. By its feeble glow, they surveyed the scene.
“Nothing to see,” observed Dorothy.
“That’s fine,” declared the Lion. “I hope there will be nothing to see until we come to the other end. As long as I don’t see anything, I won’t be afraid. Come on; let’s go.”
There was, as Dorothy said, nothing to see—nothing but bare walls of dirt and stone, with here and there the roots of a tree pushing through.
“We can use these roots if we run out of sticks,” remarked the Lion, as they walked along. “There’ll probably be plenty of them along the way.”
“Not under the Desert,” Dorothy reminded him. “Maybe we’d better use them now as we need them, and save the sticks.”
“I guess we’d better,” agreed the Lion. “I’d certainly hate to run out of light half way across the desert. Where does this tunnel end, anyway?”
“I don’t know exactly,” answered Dorothy. “Somewhere in the Gnome King’s country. Maybe Kaliko will help us.”
“I doubt it,” rumbled the Lion. “He wasn’t very much help when you and Pigasus went to him the time Skamperoo and his white horse conquered Oz.”
“Well, he helped us a little,” remembered Dorothy. “And he would have helped us if we had gotten another army.”
“Or so he said,” grunted the Lion skeptically. “We won’t tell him anything about it —just that we wanted to visit. We won’t tell anyone until we find Jinnicky. That’s the safest plan.“ How long they walked in the gloomy tunnel, Dorothy never could tell.. They had no way of telling time. They ate when they grew hungry, slept when they became tired, and woke to continue their slow journey under the ground.
“The only good thing about this place is that it’s not inhabited,” the Lion had just finished saying—when suddenly his feet went out from under him with such force that Dorothy was thrown over his head. The torch went out, and in total darkness Dorothy scrambled to her feet. “Dorothy!” roared the Lion. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” answered the little girl. “The light went out, though.”
“So I see,” growled the Lion. “Or so I don’t see—I can’t see anything. Stand still and I’ll try to find you. Somebody stretched a wire across the tunnel. If I ever lay my paws on him, he’ll be sorry. Of all the low tricks!”
“Of course it’s a low trick,” hissed a voice out of the darkness. “This is Low.”
“I’ll say it’s low,” grumbled the Lion. “Who said that? Dorothy, did you? This is no time for jokes…!“ Dorothy shook her head. Then, remembering that the Lion couldn’t see her, she managed a weak “No.” Stepping toward the Lion’s voice, she stretched out her arms in an effort to locate him. With a scream, she jumped back —something cold had touched her arm…!
“Don’t yell like that!” hissed the voice irritably. “And stop waving your arms like a windmill.“ The Lion sprang toward the sound of their voices. He bumped squarely into Dorothy, knocking her down again. She caught at his mane and pulled herself up onto his back.
“Come,” ordered the sibilant voice. “Come with me to his Imperial Lowness.”
“Who are you, and why should we come with you?” demanded the Lion, his voice trembling a little.
“I am Be Low, captain of the King’s Guard. You have entered the City of Low; therefore, you must be taken to the King.“ Be Low’s voice was not unfriendly; Dorothy began to lose some of her fright.
“What does your King
do to strangers?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” returned the creature. “There have never been any strangers in Low. It will probably be quite interesting.”
“Oh, quite,” agreed the Lion. “Fascinating, no doubt. Dorothy, light another torch. This is the third time I’ve stumbled.”
“Stop. There is no light permitted in Low!” hissed the Lower.
“Then how do you see?” inquired Dorothy, putting the matches back into her pocket with some haste.
“With our eyes, of course,” replied Be Low. “All Lowers have bright eyes.“ Indeed, as the creature turned toward Dorothy, she could see its eyes glowing through the darkness.
“If anyone ever calls me a little bright-eyes again, I’ll hit ‘em,” Dorothy whispered in the Lion’s ear. Then, turning again to the Lower, she asked, “What do you look like?”
“Like a Lower, of course,” it returned.
“But what does a Lower look like?” persisted Dorothy.
“Like me,” was the reply. The Lion growled under his breath. Dorothy pinched him warningly.
“But we can’t see you,” she pleaded. “Do you look like the Lion, or like me? I mean, do you have two legs, or…”
“I certainly don’t look like either of you, thank goodness,” snapped the Lower.
“And what under the earth would I do with legs?”
“Most creatures walk on them,” the Lion snapped back. “What do you do—fly?”
“Certainly not,” the Lower murmured complacently. “We float. Floating is much more graceful than flying.”
“It must be easier than walking, too,” groaned the Lion, as he stubbed his toe for the fourteenth time. “Aren’t we almost there—OUCH!”
“Be quiet!” hissed Be Low angrily. “Why don’t you wait until the door is open instead of banging into it?“ The Lion rubbed his nose, snarling under his breath.
“Come,” ordered the Lower. The great beast stepped forward cautiously. Meeting no resistance, he followed his strange guide.
“His Imperial Lowness, So Low, Sole Ruler of Low!” announced Be Low.
“I can’t see anything, can you?” Dorothy whispered to the Lion.
“Bow to his Imperial Lowness!” commanded Be Low severely.
“Which way should we bow?” stuttered the little girl. “I can’t see.“ A bell chimed, and out of the darkness appeared two glowing eyes the size of dinner plates. All around gleamed scores of smaller eyes. Choking back a scream, Dorothy flung her arms around the Lion’s neck and buried her face in his mane.
CHAPTER V
TROUBLE AT THE EMERALD PALACE
Back at the Emerald City, things were going from bad to worse.
As the Lion had shrewdly guessed, Faleero found it easier to change her appearance than her disposition. Although greatly relieved by Dorothy’s departure, she soon found that her troubles had only begun.
Trot and Betsy returned to the palace after a week at Sapphire City. Faleero, who hated children, found it impossible to endure their chatter; and their constant running and playing nearly drove her mad. Before the morning was over, she had sent Betsy to her room in tears and mortally insulted Trot by slighting references to her friend, Cap’n Bill.
“I can’t understand it, mates,” nuzzled the old sailor, when he and the two girls were alone in Betsy’s room. “‘Pears like we’ve outstayed our welcome here. Maybe we’d better go back to America.”
The thought of leaving their beloved fairyland so terrified the two little girls that they hastily dried their tears and implored him not to think of such a thing. After a thorough discussion of their beloved Ruler’s strange conduct, they came to the conclusion that something was worrying her.
“Let’s just keep out of her way,” proposed Trot. “She’ll get over it and be sorry.“ ’ Maybe. We can help her,” suggested Betsy timidly. “If we find out what she’s worried about, perhaps we can do something about it.“ Cap’n Bill shook his head. “She knows we’ll help her if she needs it,” he returned.
“We’ll just stir up more trouble if we go poking around. Keep away from her as much as you can until she’s friendly again.“ Kettywig, meanwhile, with great difficulty, persuaded Faleero that she was ruining all hope of success. When they met again, she was very gracious to the old sailor and the girls, apologizing sweetly for her previous bad humor. They were reassured for the moment, but still puzzled over her strange behavior.
And as time went by, they had occasion to be more puzzled. Faleero refused curtly to be drawn into games which Ozma had loved. She scolded the Soldier with the Green Whiskers when she found him down on his knees playing marbles. She flew into a rage at the Patchwork Girl’s saucy verses, and she was heard to call the Wizard a “pompous old windbag.”
Then Scraps unaccountably vanished. After her, in quick succession, went Button Bright, the Shaggy Plan, and the Soldier with the Green Whiskers. Faleero professed to be greatly concerned about these disappearances, and apparently spared no pains in her efforts to locate the missing persons.
“I think it’s magic,” shivered Trot. “Somebody’s put a spell on Ozma to make her cross, and whoever did it is picking off the rest of us, one by one.”
“I’m for getting out of here,” declared Cap’n Bill. “let’s ask Ozma to send us home.“ This, Trot and Betsy refused. Nor could they persuaded to go to the Winkie Country to stay with their good friend, the Tin Woodman, Emperor of the Winkies, “..just ‘til this thing blows over,” pleaded Cap’n Bill.
“I’m ashamed of you, Cap’n,” Trot replied with spirit. “After all Ozma’s done for us, we’re not going to leave her now that she’s in trouble.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” admitted the old sailor reluctantly. “We’ll stick it out. Just be pleasant to Ozma, and stay away from her as much as possible. She don’t seem to want us around much.“ The girls obeyed this suggestion so well that they hardly ever saw Faleero except at meals. Relieved of their constant attendance, she succeeded in disguising her dislike of them, and was usually quite pleasant. Kettywig commended her on her remarkable restraint, and the conquest of Oz seemed complete.
CHAPTER VI
ESCAPE FROM THE LOWERS
With her face hidden in the Lion’s mane, Dorothy had given herself up for lost, when the King spoke. “That’s enough bowing,” he observed. “You don’t have to stay all doubled up forever.“ Dorothy lifted her head cautiously. “That’s better,” approved So Low. “Now who are you, and what are you doing in Low?”
Mindful of the Lion’s warning, Dorothy said nothing of the strange affairs in the Emerald City, merely telling the King that they had found the tunnel and were curious to know where it led. “If you have no objection, we should like to pass through your kingdom.“ The glowing eyes regarded her intently. “No one has ever left Low,” the King announced finally. “It’s against the Law.”
“But no strangers have ever come here before,” pleaded Dorothy. “We don’t belong in Low. We can’t stay here. We live in Oz.”
“Then you should have stayed there,” replied the King severely. “However, since you are here, we shall have to make the best of it. Take them away, Be Low, and separate them from their bodies. We don’t use bodies down here,” he explained. “They are clumsy, useless things. When you’ve been removed from yours, you’ll be much more comfortable.”
“Your eyes will glow like ours,” put in Be Low. “Especially that big beast’s. His glow a little already.“ Frantically Dorothy tried to plead with the King, but to no avail.
With a roar, the Lion sprang at him, but So Low floated out of reach.
“Come,” ordered Be Low. The Lion sprang again at the mocking eyes, but succeeded only in bruising himself against the hard stone walls. “It’s no use,” moaned Dorothy.
But just then her hand touched the box of matches in her pocket. Quickly she drew it out and struck one. The Lowers retreated from the sudden flare in a chorus of frightened hisses. Evidently the creatur
es could not stand light.
“Quick, light a torch!” roared the Lion. “Light a lot of them.“ Dorothy held the match to one of the sticks. In its light they could see that they were in a large chamber. All the Lowers had vanished, and the curtains at one end of the room still quivered as though someone had just passed through.
“That was close,” breathed the Lion, with a long sigh of relief. “Let’s get out of here.”
“How?” asked Dorothy. “Which way do we go?”
“We came in through the curtains, I think. Let’s go out the other way.” But at the end of the room, the way was blocked by a massive door. Heavy and solid, it defeated Dorothy’s every attempt to open it. The Lowers, clustered behind the curtains, laughed mockingly. “You can’t escape us,” hissed the King. “We’ll wait until your light goes out; then you will be helpless.“ Dorothy was getting very angry. “Let’s go after them,” she whispered. But behind the curtains there was only another door, and behind it she could hear the Lowers jeering.
The Red Jinn Page 3
