"Friend Lion," retorted the dog, "if I hadn't lost my growl you would hear it now. I have as much right to talk as you have to sleep."
The Lion sighed.
"If only you had lost your voice, when you lost your growl," said he, "you would be a more agreeable companion."
But they quieted down, after that, and soon the entire camp was wrapped in slumber.
Next morning they made an early start but had hardly proceeded on their way an hour when, on climbing a slight elevation, they beheld in the distance a low mountain, on top of which stood Ugu's wicker castle. It was a good-sized building and rather pretty because the sides, roofs and domes were all of wicker closely woven, as it is in fine baskets.
"I wonder if it is strong?" said Dorothy musingly, as she eyed the queer castle.
"I suppose it is, since a magician built it," answered the Wizard. "With magic to protect it, even a paper castle might be as strong as if made of stone. This Ugu must be a man of ideas, because he does things in a different way from other people."
"Yes; no one else would steal our dear Ozma," sighed tiny Trot.
"I wonder if Ozma is there?" said Betsy, indicating the castle with a nod of her head.
"Where else could she be?" asked Scraps.