Ozma of Oz

by L. Frank Baum

Overview

Ozma of Oz is the fourth book in Baum's Oz series. The series chronicles the further adventures of Dorothy both in and out of Oz, as she deals with the characters, situations and desires which continue to spill over from her first fateful adventure.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781605017877
Publisher:	MobileReference
Publication date:	01/01/2010
Series:	Mobi Classics
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
File size:	205 KB

About the Author

Lyman Frank Baum, better known as L. Frank Baum, was an American author chiefly famous for his children's books, particularly The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and its sequels.

Date of Birth:

May 15, 1856

Date of Death:

May 6, 1919

Place of Birth:

Chittenango, New York

Place of Death:

Hollywood, California

Education:

Attended Peekskill Military Academy and Syracuse Classical School

Read an Excerpt

Ozma of Oz

---

By L. Frank Baum

Hesperus Press Limited

Copyright © 2014 Hesperus Press Limited
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-78094-257-5

---

CHAPTER 1

THE GIRL IN THE CHICKEN COOP

The wind blew hard and joggled the water of the ocean, sending ripples across its surface. Then the wind pushed the edges of the ripples until they became waves, and shoved the waves around until they became billows. The billows rolled dreadfully high: higher even than the tops of houses. Some of them, indeed, rolled as high as the tops of tall trees, and seemed like mountains; and the gulfs between the great billows were like deep valleys.

All this mad dashing and splashing of the waters of the big ocean, which the mischievous wind caused without any good reason whatever, resulted in a terrible storm, and a storm on the ocean is liable to cut many queer pranks and do a lot of damage.

At the time the wind began to blow, a ship was sailing far out upon the waters. When the waves began to tumble and toss and to grow bigger and bigger the ship rolled up and down, and tipped sidewise – first one way and then the other – and was jostled around so roughly that even the sailor-men had to hold fast to the ropes and railings to keep themselves from being swept away by the wind or pitched headlong into the sea.

And the clouds were so thick in the sky that the sunlight couldn't get through them; so that the day grew dark as night, which added to the terrors of the storm.

The Captain of the ship was not afraid, because he had seen storms before, and had sailed his ship through them in safety; but he knew that his passengers would be in danger if they tried to stay on deck, so he put them all into the cabin and told them to stay there until after the storm was over, and to keep brave hearts and not be scared, and all would be well with them.

Now, among these passengers was a little Kansas girl named Dorothy Gale, who was going with her Uncle Henry to Australia, to visit some relatives they had never before seen. Uncle Henry, you must know, was not very well, because he had been working so hard on his Kansas farm that his health had given way and left him weak and nervous. So he left Aunt Em at home to watch after the hired men and to take care of the farm, while he traveled far away to Australia to visit his cousins and have a good rest.

Dorothy was eager to go with him on this journey, and Uncle Henry thought she would be good company and help cheer him up; so he decided to take her along. The little girl was quite an experienced traveller, for she had once been carried by a cyclone as far away from home as the marvelous Land of Oz, and she had met with a good many adventures in that strange country before she managed to get back to Kansas again. So she wasn't easily frightened, whatever happened, and when the wind began to howl and whistle, and the waves began to tumble and toss, our little girl didn't mind the uproar the least bit.

'Of course we'll have to stay in the cabin,' she said to Uncle Henry and the other passengers, 'and keep as quiet as possible until the storm is over. For the Captain says if we go on deck we may be blown overboard.'

No one wanted to risk such an accident as that, you may be sure; so all the passengers stayed huddled up in the dark cabin, listening to the shrieking of the storm and the creaking of the masts and rigging and trying to keep from bumping into one another when the ship tipped sidewise.

Dorothy had almost fallen asleep when she was aroused with a start to find that Uncle Henry was missing. She couldn't imagine where he had gone, and as he was not very strong she began to worry about him, and to fear he might have been careless enough to go on deck. In that case he would be in great danger unless he instantly came down again.

The fact was that Uncle Henry had gone to lie down in his little sleeping-berth, but Dorothy did not know that. She only remembered that Aunt Em had cautioned her to take good care of her uncle, so at once she decided to go on deck and find him, in spite of the fact that the tempest was now worse than ever, and the ship was plunging in a really dreadful manner. Indeed, the little girl found it was as much as she could do to mount the stairs to the deck, and as soon as she got there the wind struck her so fiercely that it almost tore away the skirts of her dress. Yet Dorothy felt a sort of joyous excitement in defying the storm, and while she held fast to the railing she peered around through the gloom and thought she saw the dim form of a man clinging to a mast not far away from her. This might be her uncle, so she called as loudly as she could:

'Uncle Henry! Uncle Henry!'

But the wind screeched and howled so madly that she scarce heard her own voice, and the man certainly failed to hear her, for he did not move.

Dorothy decided she must go to him; so she made a dash forward, during a lull in the storm, to where a big square chicken-coop had been lashed to the deck with ropes. She reached this place in safety, but no sooner had she seized fast hold of the slats of the big box in which the chickens were kept than the wind, as if enraged because the little girl dared to resist its power, suddenly redoubled its fury. With a scream like that of an angry giant it tore away the ropes that held the coop and lifted it high into the air, with Dorothy still clinging to the slats. Around and over it whirled, this way and that, and a few moments later the chicken- coop dropped far away into the sea, where the big waves caught it and slid it uphill to a foaming crest and then downhill into a deep valley, as if it were nothing more than a plaything to keep them amused.

Dorothy had a good ducking, you may be sure, but she didn't lose her presence of mind even for a second. She kept tight hold of the stout slats and as soon as she could get the water out of her eyes she saw that the wind had ripped the cover from the coop, and the poor chickens were fluttering away in every direction, being blown by the wind until they looked like feather dusters without handles. The bottom of the coop was made of thick boards, so Dorothy found she was clinging to a sort of raft, with sides of slats, which readily bore up her weight. After coughing the water out of her throat and getting her breath again, she managed to climb over the slats and stand upon the firm wooden bottom of the coop, which supported her easily enough.

'Why, I've got a ship of my own!' she thought, more amused than frightened at her sudden change of condition; and then, as the coop climbed up to the top of a big wave, she looked eagerly around for the ship from which she had been blown.

It was far, far away, by this time. Perhaps no one on board had yet missed her, or knew of her strange adventure. Down into a valley between the waves the coop swept her, and when she climbed another crest the ship looked like a toy boat, it was such a long way off. Soon it had entirely disappeared in the gloom, and then Dorothy gave a sigh of regret at parting with Uncle Henry and began to wonder what was going to happen to her next.

Just now she was tossing on the bosom of a big ocean, with nothing to keep her afloat but a miserable wooden hen-coop that had a plank bottom and slatted sides, through which the water constantly splashed and wetted her through to the skin! And there was nothing to eat when she became hungry – as she was sure to do before long – and no fresh water to drink and no dry clothes to put on.

'Well, I declare!' she exclaimed, with a laugh. 'You're in a pretty fix, Dorothy Gale, I can tell you! and I haven't the least idea how you're going to get out of it!'

As if to add to her troubles the night was now creeping on, and the gray clouds overhead changed to inky blackness. But the wind, as if satisfied at last with its mischievous pranks, stopped blowing this ocean and hurried away to another part of the world to blow something else; so that the waves, not being joggled any more, began to quiet down and behave themselves.

It was lucky for Dorothy, I think, that the storm subsided; otherwise, brave though she was, I fear she might have perished. Many children, in her place, would have wept and given way to despair; but because Dorothy had encountered so many adventures and come safely through them it did not occur to her at this time to be especially afraid. She was wet and uncomfortable, it is true; but, after sighing that one sigh I told you of, she managed to recall some of her customary cheerfulness and decided to patiently await whatever her fate might be.

By and by the black clouds rolled away and showed a blue sky overhead, with a silver moon shining sweetly in the middle of it and little stars winking merrily at Dorothy when she looked their way. The coop did not toss around anymore, but rode the waves more gently – almost like a cradle rocking – so that the floor upon which Dorothy stood was no longer swept by water coming through the slats. Seeing this, and being quite exhausted by the excitement of the past few hours, the little girl decided that sleep would be the best thing to restore her strength and the easiest way in which she could pass the time. The floor was damp and she was herself wringing wet, but fortunately this was a warm climate and she did not feel at all cold.

So she sat down in a corner of the coop, leaned her back against the slats, nodded at the friendly stars before she closed her eyes, and was asleep in half a minute.

CHAPTER 2

THE YELLOW HEN

A strange noise awoke Dorothy, who opened her eyes to find that day had dawned and the sun was shining brightly in a clear sky. She had been dreaming that she was back in Kansas again, and playing in the old barnyard with the calves and pigs and chickens all around her; and at first, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she really imagined she was there.

'Kut-kut-kut, ka-daw-kut! Kut-kut-kut, ka-daw-kut!'

Ah; here again was the strange noise that had awakened her. Surely it was a hen cackling! But her wide-open eyes first saw, through the slats of the coop, the blue waves of the ocean, now calm and placid, and her thoughts flew back to the past night, so full of danger and discomfort. Also she began to remember that she was a waif of the storm, adrift upon a treacherous and unknown sea.

'Kut-kut-kut, ka-daw-w-w – kut!'

'What's that?' cried Dorothy, starting to her feet.

'Why, I've just laid an egg, that's all,' replied a small, but sharp and distinct voice, and looking around her the little girl dis covered a yellow hen squatting in the opposite corner of the coop.

'Dear me!' she exclaimed, in surprise; 'have you been here all night, too?'

'Of course,' answered the hen, fluttering her wings and yawning. 'When the coop blew away from the ship I clung fast to this corner, with claws and beak, for I knew if I fell into the water I'd surely be drowned. Indeed, I nearly drowned, as it was, with all that water washing over me. I never was so wet before in my life!'

'Yes,' agreed Dorothy, 'it was pretty wet, for a time, I know. But do you feel comfor'ble now?'

'Not very. The sun has helped to dry my feathers, as it has your dress, and I feel better since I laid my morning egg. But what's to become of us, I should like to know, afloat on this big pond?'

'I'd like to know that, too,' said Dorothy. 'But, tell me; how does it happen that you are able to talk? I thought hens could only cluck and cackle.'

'Why, as for that,' answered the yellow hen thoughtfully, 'I've clucked and cackled all my life, and never spoken a word before this morning, that I can remember. But when you asked a question, a minute ago, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to answer you. So I spoke, and I seem to keep on speaking, just as you and other human beings do. Strange, isn't it?'

'Very,' replied Dorothy. 'If we were in the Land of Oz, I wouldn't think it so queer, because many of the animals can talk in that fairy country. But out here in the ocean must be a good long way from Oz.'

'How is my grammar?' asked the yellow hen, anxiously. 'Do I speak quite properly, in your judgment?'

'Yes,' said Dorothy, 'you do very well, for a beginner.'

'I'm glad to know that,' continued the yellow hen, in a confidential tone; 'because, if one is going to talk, it's best to talk correctly. The red rooster has often said that my cluck and my cackle were quite perfect; and now it's a comfort to know I am talking properly.'

'I'm beginning to get hungry,' remarked Dorothy. 'It's breakfast time; but there's no breakfast.'

'You may have my egg,' said the yellow hen. 'I don't care for it, you know.'

'Don't you want to hatch it?' asked the little girl, in surprise.

'No, indeed; I never care to hatch eggs unless I've a nice snug nest, in some quiet place, with a baker's dozen of eggs under me. That's thirteen, you know, and it's a lucky number for hens. So you may as well eat this egg.'

'Oh, I couldn't poss'bly eat it, unless it was cooked,' exclaimed Dorothy. 'But I'm much obliged for your kindness, just the same.'

'Don't mention it, my dear,' answered the hen, calmly, and began preening her feathers.

For a moment Dorothy stood looking out over the wide sea. She was still thinking of the egg, though; so presently she asked:

'Why do you lay eggs, when you don't expect to hatch them?'

'It's a habit I have,' replied the yellow hen. 'It has always been my pride to lay a fresh egg every morning, except when I'm moulting. I never feel like having my morning cackle till the egg is properly laid, and without the chance to cackle I would not be happy.'

'It's strange,' said the girl, reflectively; 'but as I'm not a hen I can't be 'spected to understand that.'

'Certainly not, my dear.'

Then Dorothy fell silent again. The yellow hen was some company, and a bit of comfort, too; but it was dreadfully lonely out on the big ocean, nevertheless.

After a time the hen flew up and perched upon the topmost slat of the coop, which was a little above Dorothy's head when she was sitting upon the bottom, as she had been doing for some moments past.

'Why, we are not far from land!' exclaimed the hen.

'Where? Where is it?' cried Dorothy, jumping up in great excitement.

'Over there a little way,' answered the hen, nodding her head in a certain direction. 'We seem to be drifting toward it, so that before noon we ought to find ourselves upon dry land again.'

'I shall like that!' said Dorothy, with a little sigh, for her feet and legs were still wetted now and then by the seawater that came through the open slats.

'So shall I,' answered her companion. 'There is nothing in the world so miserable as a wet hen.'

The land, which they seemed to be rapidly approaching, since it grew more distinct every minute, was quite beautiful as viewed by the little girl in the floating hen-coop. Next to the water was a broad beach of white sand and gravel, and farther back were several rocky hills, while beyond these appeared a strip of green trees that marked the edge of a forest. But there were no houses to be seen, nor any sign of people who might inhabit this unknown land.

'I hope we shall find something to eat,' said Dorothy, looking eagerly at the pretty beach toward which they drifted. 'It's long past breakfast time, now.'

'I'm a trifle hungry, myself,' declared the yellow hen.

'Why don't you eat the egg?' asked the child. 'You don't need to have your food cooked, as I do.'

'Do you take me for a cannibal?' cried the hen, indignantly. 'I do not know what I have said or done that leads you to insult me!'

'I beg your pardon, I'm sure Mrs – Mrs – by the way, may I inquire your name, ma'am?' asked the little girl.

'My name is Bill,' said the yellow hen, somewhat gruffly.

'Bill! Why, that's a boy's name.'

'What difference does that make?'

'You're a lady hen, aren't you?'

'Of course. But when I was first hatched out no one could tell whether I was going to be a hen or a rooster; so the little boy at the farm where I was born called me Bill, and made a pet of me because I was the only yellow chicken in the whole brood. When I grew up, and he found that I didn't crow and fight, as all the roosters do, he did not think to change my name, and every creature in the barnyard, as well as the people in the house, knew me as 'Bill.' So Bill I've always been called, and Bill is my name.'

'But it's all wrong, you know,' declared Dorothy, earnestly; 'and, if you don't mind, I shall call you "Billina". Putting the "eena" on the end makes it a girl's name, you see.'

'Oh, I don't mind it in the least,' returned the yellow hen. 'It doesn't matter at all what you call me, so long as I know the name means me.'

'Very well, Billina. My name is Dorothy Gale – just Dorothy to my friends and Miss Gale to strangers. You may call me Dorothy, if you like. We're getting very near the shore. Do you suppose it is too deep for me to wade the rest of the way?'

'Wait a few minutes longer. The sunshine is warm and pleasant, and we are in no hurry.'

'But my feet are all wet and soggy,' said the girl. 'My dress is dry enough, but I won't feel real comfor'ble till I get my feet dried.'

(Continues...)

---

Excerpted from Ozma of Oz by L. Frank Baum. Copyright © 2014 Hesperus Press Limited. Excerpted by permission of Hesperus Press Limited.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

---

Table of Contents

A raging sea storm carries Dorothy Gale (charming heroine of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz) to the fairy land of Ev, where an exciting new adventure awaits her and all young readers who venture into this enchanting realm of fantasy.
Dorothy meets some new friends—Billina, a friendly talking hen; Tiktok, a remarkable Copper Man; the lovely Princess Ozma of Oz; and some strange characters too—Wheelers, with wheels for hands and feet; and Princess Langwidere who wears a different head each day.
When Dorothy learns that the Queen of Ev and her ten children are prisoners of the wicked Nome King, she sets out on a magic carpet with her new friends and some old favorites—Scarecrow, Cowardly Lion, and Tin Woodman—to rescue them.
The danger mounts as Princess Ozma herself falls victim to the Nome King's magic and is transformed into an emerald grasshopper. Youngsters will be swept up in the action as Dorothy and her entourage match wits with the Nome King and his devilish Nomes in a forbidding underground fortress.
Ozma of Oz will delight children of all ages from the very first chapter in which Dorothy battles the sea, to its surprising conclusion, when she struggles to free the royal family and her friends.
The original text is reprinted here in its entirety from the first 1907 edition, with John R. Neill's amusing and imaginative illustrations that capture the flavor of this wonderful, witty tale.