“Come, Ozma,” she said, anxiously; “let us go ourselves to search for the piglet.”
So the two went to the dressing-room of the Princess and searched carefully in every corner and among the vases and baskets and ornaments that stood about the pretty boudoir. But not a trace could they find of the tiny creature they sought.
Dorothy was nearly weeping, by this time, while Ozma was angry and indignant. When they returned to the others the Princess said:
“There is little doubt that my pretty piglet has been eaten by that horrid kitten, and if that is true the offender must be punished.”
“I don’t b’lieve Eureka would do such a dreadful thing!” cried Dorothy, much distressed. “Go and get my kitten, please, Jellia, and we’ll hear what she has to say about it.”
The green maiden hastened away, but presently returned and said:
“The kitten will not come. She threatened to scratch my eyes out if I touched her.”
“Where is she?” asked Dorothy.
“Under the bed in your own room,” was the reply.
So Dorothy ran to her room and found the kitten under the bed.
“Come here, Eureka!” she said.
“I won’t,” answered the kitten, in a surly voice.
“Oh, Eureka! Why are you so bad?”
The kitten did not reply.
“If you don’t come to me, right away,” continued Dorothy, getting provoked, “I’ll take my Magic Belt and wish you in the Country of the Gurgles.”
“Why do you want me?” asked Eureka, disturbed by this threat.
“You must go to Princess Ozma. She wants to talk to you.”
“All right,” returned the kitten, creeping out. “I’m not afraid of Ozma—or anyone else.”
Dorothy carried her in her arms back to where the others sat in grieved and thoughtful silence.
“Tell me, Eureka,” said the Princess, gently: “did you eat my pretty piglet?”
“I won’t answer such a foolish question,” asserted Eureka, with a snarl.
“Oh, yes you will, dear,” Dorothy declared. “The piglet is gone, and you ran out of the room when Jellia opened the door. So, if you are innocent, Eureka, you must tell the Princess how you came to be in her room, and what has become of the piglet.”
“Who accuses me?” asked the kitten, defiantly.
“No one,” answered Ozma. “Your actions alone accuse you. The fact is that I left my little pet in my dressing-room lying asleep upon the table; and you must have stolen in without my knowing it. When next the door was opened you ran out and hid yourself—and the piglet was gone.”
“That’s none of my business,” growled the kitten.
“Don’t be impudent, Eureka,” admonished Dorothy.
“It is you who are impudent,” said Eureka, “for accusing me of such a crime when you can’t prove it except by guessing.”
Ozma was now greatly incensed by the kitten’s conduct. She summoned her Captain-General, and when the long, lean officer appeared she said:
“Carry this cat away to prison, and keep her in safe confinement until she is tried by law for the crime of murder.”
So the Captain-General took Eureka from the arms of the now weeping Dorothy and in spite of the kitten’s snarls and scratches carried it away to prison.
“What shall we do now?” asked the Scarecrow, with a sigh, for such a crime had cast a gloom over all the company.
“I will summon the Court to meet in the Throne Room at three o’clock,” replied Ozma. “I myself will be the judge, and the kitten shall have a fair trial.”
“What will happen if she is guilty?” asked Dorothy.
“She must die,” answered the Princess.
“Nine times?” enquired the Scarecrow.
“As many times as is necessary,” was the reply. “I will ask the Tin Woodman to defend the prisoner, because he has such a kind heart I am sure he will do his best to save her. And the Woggle-Bug shall be the Public Accuser, because he is so learned that no one can deceive him.”
“Who will be the jury?” asked the Tin Woodman.
“There ought to be several animals on the jury,” said Ozma, “because animals understand each other better than we people understand them. So the jury shall consist of the Cowardly Lion, the Hungry Tiger, Jim the Cab-horse, the Yellow Hen, the Scarecrow, the Wizard, Tik-tok the Machine Man, the Sawhorse and Zeb of Hugson’s Ranch. That makes the nine which the law requires, and all my people shall be admitted to hear the testimony.”
They now separated to prepare for the sad ceremony; for whenever an appeal is made to law sorrow is almost certain to follow—even in a fairyland like Oz. But is must be stated that the people of that Land were generally so well-behaved that there was not a single lawyer amongst them, and it had been years since any Ruler had sat in judgment upon an offender of the law. The crime of murder being the most dreadful crime of all, tremendous excitement prevailed in the Emerald City when the news of Eureka’s arrest and trial became known.
The Wizard, when he returned to his own room, was exceedingly thoughtful. He had no doubt Eureka had eaten his piglet, but he realized that a kitten cannot be depended upon at all times to act properly, since its nature is to destroy small animals and even birds for food, and the tame cat that we keep in our houses today is descended from the wild cat of the jungle—a very ferocious creature, indeed. The Wizard knew that if Dorothy’s pet was found guilty and condemned to death the little girl would be made very unhappy; so, although he grieved over the piglet’s sad fate as much as any of them, he resolved to save Eureka’s life.
Sending for the Tin Woodman the Wizard took him into a corner and whispered:
“My friend, it is your duty to defend the white kitten and try to save her, but I fear you will fail because Eureka has long wished to eat a piglet, to my certain knowledge, and my opinion is that she has been unable to resist the temptation. Yet her disgrace and death would not bring back the piglet, but only serve to make Dorothy unhappy. So I intend to prove the kitten’s innocence by a trick.”
He drew from his inside pocket one of the eight tiny piglets that were remaining and continued:
“This creature you must hide in some safe place, and if the jury decides that Eureka is guilty you may then produce this piglet and claim it is the one that was lost. All the piglets are exactly alike, so no one can dispute your word. This deception will save Eureka’s life, and then we may all be happy again.”
“I do not like to deceive my friends,” replied the Tin Woodman; “still, my kind heart urges me to save Eureka’s life, and I can usually trust my heart to do the right thing. So I will do as you say, friend Wizard.”
After some thought he placed the little pig inside his funnel-shaped hat, and then put the hat upon his head and went back to his room to think over his speech to the jury.
19. The Wizard Performs Another Trick
At three o’clock the Throne Room was crowded with citizens, men, women and children being eager to witness the great trial.
Princess Ozma, dressed in her most splendid robes of state, sat in the magnificent emerald throne, with her jewelled sceptre in her hand and her sparkling coronet upon her fair brow. Behind her throne stood the twenty-eight officers of her army and many officials of the royal household. At her right sat the queerly assorted Jury—animals, animated dummies and people—all gravely prepared to listen to what was said. The kitten had been placed in a large cage just before the throne, where she sat upon her haunches and gazed through the bars at the crowds around her, with seeming unconcern.
And now, at a signal from Ozma, the Woggle-Bug arose and addressed the jury. His tone was pompous and he strutted up and down in an absurd attempt to appear dignified.
“Your Royal Highness and Fellow Citizens,” he began; “the small cat you see a prisoner before you
is accused of the crime of first murdering and then eating our esteemed Ruler’s fat piglet—or else first eating and then murdering it. In either case a grave crime has been committed which deserves a grave punishment.”
“Do you mean my kitten must be put in a grave?” asked Dorothy.
“Don’t interrupt, little girl,” said the Woggle-Bug. “When I get my thoughts arranged in good order I do not like to have anything upset them or throw them into confusion.”
“If your thoughts were any good they wouldn’t become confused,” remarked the Scarecrow, earnestly. “My thoughts are always—”
“Is this a trial of thoughts, or of kittens?” demanded the Woggle-Bug.
“It’s a trial of one kitten,” replied the Scarecrow; “but your manner is a trial to us all.”
“Let the Public Accuser continue,” called Ozma from her throne, “and I pray you do not interrupt him.”
“The criminal who now sits before the court licking her paws,” resumed the Woggle-Bug, “has long desired to unlawfully eat the fat piglet, which was no bigger than a mouse. And finally she made a wicked plan to satisfy her depraved appetite for pork. I can see her, in my mind’s eye—”
“What’s that?” asked the Scarecrow.
“I say I can see her in my mind’s eye—”
“The mind has no eye,” declared the Scarecrow. “It’s blind.”
“Your Highness,” cried the Woggle-Bug, appealing to Ozma, “have I a mind’s eye, or haven’t I?”
“If you have, it is invisible,” said the Princess.
“Very true,” returned the Woggle-Bug, bowing. “I say I see the criminal, in my mind’s eye, creeping stealthily into the room of our Ozma and secreting herself, when no one was looking, until the Princess had gone away and the door was closed. Then the murderer was alone with her helpless victim, the fat piglet, and I see her pounce upon the innocent creature and eat it up—”
“Are you still seeing with your mind’s eye?” enquired the Scarecrow.
“Of course; how else could I see it? And we know the thing is true, because since the time of that interview there is no piglet to be found anywhere.”
“I suppose, if the cat had been gone, instead of the piglet, your mind’s eye would see the piglet eating the cat,” suggested the Scarecrow.
“Very likely,” acknowledged the Woggle-Bug. “And now, Fellow Citizens and Creatures of the Jury, I assert that so awful a crime deserves death, and in the case of the ferocious criminal before you—who is now washing her face—the death penalty should be inflicted nine times.”
There was great applause when the speaker sat down. Then the Princess spoke in a stern voice:
“Prisoner, what have you to say for yourself? Are you guilty, or not guilty?”
“Why, that’s for you to find out,” replied Eureka. “If you can prove I’m guilty, I’ll be willing to die nine times, but a mind’s eye is no proof, because the Woggle-Bug has no mind to see with.”
“Never mind, dear,” said Dorothy.
Then the Tin Woodman arose and said:
“Respected Jury and dearly beloved Ozma, I pray you not to judge this feline prisoner unfeelingly. I do not think the innocent kitten can be guilty, and surely it is unkind to accuse a luncheon of being a murder. Eureka is the sweet pet of a lovely little girl whom we all admire, and gentleness and innocence are her chief virtues. Look at the kitten’s intelligent eyes;” (here Eureka closed her eyes sleepily) “gaze at her smiling countenance!” (here Eureka snarled and showed her teeth) “mark the tender pose of her soft, padded little hands!” (Here Eureka bared her sharp claws and scratched at the bars of the cage.) “Would such a gentle animal be guilty of eating a fellow creature? No; a thousand times, no!”
“Oh, cut it short,” said Eureka; “you’ve talked long enough.”
“I’m trying to defend you,” remonstrated the Tin Woodman.
“Then say something sensible,” retorted the kitten. “Tell them it would be foolish for me to eat the piglet, because I had sense enough to know it would raise a row if I did. But don’t try to make out I’m too innocent to eat a fat piglet if I could do it and not be found out. I imagine it would taste mighty good.”
“Perhaps it would, to those who eat,” remarked the Tin Woodman. “I myself, not being built to eat, have no personal experience in such matters. But I remember that our great poet once said:
‘To eat is sweet
When hunger’s seat
Demands a treat
Of savory meat.’”
“Take this into consideration, friends of the Jury, and you will readily decide that the kitten is wrongfully accused and should be set at liberty.”
When the Tin Woodman sat down no one applauded him, for his arguments had not been very convincing and few believed that he had proved Eureka’s innocence. As for the Jury, the members whispered to each other for a few minutes and then they appointed the Hungry Tiger their spokesman. The huge beast slowly arose and said:
“Kittens have no consciences, so they eat whatever pleases them. The jury believes the white kitten known as Eureka is guilty of having eaten the piglet owned by Princess Ozma, and recommends that she be put to death in punishment of the crime.”
The judgment of the jury was received with great applause, although Dorothy was sobbing miserably at the fate of her pet. The Princess was just about to order Eureka’s head chopped off with the Tin Woodman’s axe when that brilliant personage once more arose and addressed her.
“Your Highness,” said he, “see how easy it is for a jury to be mistaken. The kitten could not have eaten your piglet—for here it is!”
He took off his funnel hat and from beneath it produced a tiny white piglet, which he held aloft that all might see it clearly.
Ozma was delighted and exclaimed, eagerly:
“Give me my pet, Nick Chopper!”
And all the people cheered and clapped their hands, rejoicing that the prisoner had escaped death and been proved to be innocent.
As the Princess held the white piglet in her arms and stroked its soft hair she said: “Let Eureka out of the cage, for she is no longer a prisoner, but our good friend. Where did you find my missing pet, Nick Chopper?”
“In a room of the palace,” he answered.
“Justice,” remarked the Scarecrow, with a sigh, “is a dangerous thing to meddle with. If you hadn’t happened to find the piglet, Eureka would surely have been executed.”
“But justice prevailed at the last,” said Ozma, “for here is my pet, and Eureka is once more free.”
“I refuse to be free,” cried the kitten, in a sharp voice, “unless the Wizard can do his trick with eight piglets. If he can produce but seven, then this is not the piglet that was lost, but another one.”
“Hush, Eureka!” warned the Wizard.
“Don’t be foolish,” advised the Tin Woodman, “or you may be sorry for it.”
“The piglet that belonged to the Princess wore an emerald collar,” said Eureka, loudly enough for all to hear.
“So it did!” exclaimed Ozma. “This cannot be the one the Wizard gave me.”
“Of course not; he had nine of them, altogether,” declared Eureka; “and I must say it was very stingy of him not to let me eat just a few. But now that this foolish trial is ended, I will tell you what really became of your pet piglet.”
At this everyone in the Throne Room suddenly became quiet, and the kitten continued, in a calm, mocking tone of voice:
“I will confess that I intended to eat the little pig for my breakfast; so I crept into the room where it was kept while the Princess was dressing and hid myself under a chair. When Ozma went away she closed the door and left her pet on the table. At once I jumped up and told the piglet not to make a fuss, for he would be inside of me in half a second; but no one can teach one of these creatures to b
e reasonable. Instead of keeping still, so I could eat him comfortably, he trembled so with fear that he fell off the table into a big vase that was standing on the floor. The vase had a very small neck, and spread out at the top like a bowl. At first the piglet stuck in the neck of the vase and I thought I should get him, after all, but he wriggled himself through and fell down into the deep bottom part—and I suppose he’s there yet.”
All were astonished at this confession, and Ozma at once sent an officer to her room to fetch the vase. When he returned the Princess looked down the narrow neck of the big ornament and discovered her lost piglet, just as Eureka had said she would.
There was no way to get the creature out without breaking the vase, so the Tin Woodman smashed it with his axe and set the little prisoner free.
Then the crowd cheered lustily and Dorothy hugged the kitten in her arms and told her how delighted she was to know that she was innocent.
“But why didn’t you tell us at first?” she asked.
“It would have spoiled the fun,” replied the kitten, yawning.
Ozma gave the Wizard back the piglet he had so kindly allowed Nick Chopper to substitute for the lost one, and then she carried her own into the apartments of the palace where she lived. And now, the trial being over, the good citizens of the Emerald City scattered to their homes, well content with the day’s amusement.
20. Zeb Returns to the Ranch
Eureka was much surprised to find herself in disgrace; but she was, in spite of the fact that she had not eaten the piglet. For the folks of Oz knew the kitten had tried to commit the crime, and that only an accident had prevented her from doing so; therefore even the Hungry Tiger preferred not to associate with her. Eureka was forbidden to wander around the palace and was made to stay in confinement in Dorothy’s room; so she began to beg her mistress to send her to some other place where she could enjoy herself better.
Dorothy was herself anxious to get home, so she promised Eureka they would not stay in the Land of Oz much longer.
The next evening after the trial the little girl begged Ozma to allow her to look in the enchanted picture, and the Princess readily consented. She took the child to her room and said: “Make your wish, dear, and the picture will show the scene you desire to behold.”
The Classic Children's Literature Collection: 39 Classic Novels Page 165
