This Ozma proceeded to do, much to the agitation of the Scarecrow, who thought she had taken leave of her senses. But next instant the Country came to a jolting halt.
“Peg, Princess Peg!” shrieked the Island. “I am bewitched, I can’t move a step!”
“Then everybody off,” shouted the Scarecrow, jerking a branch of a tree as if he were a conductor. “End of the line—everybody off!” And they lost no time tumbling off the wild little Country.
“It seems too bad to leave it,” said Peg Amy regretfully, picking herself up.
“It threw us off without any feeling or consideration when it saw Ruggedo,” sniffed Kabumpo. “Therefore it has no claims on us whatsoever.”
“But couldn’t you do something for it?” asked Peg, approaching Ozma timidly. “It’s so tired of being a plateau. Couldn’t you let it be an island, and find someone to settle on it? I wouldn’t mind going,” she added generously.
“You shall do nothing of the sort,” cried Kabumpo angrily. “You’re going back to Pumperdink with Pompa and me.”
“She’s going with me,” cried Wag. “Aren’t you, Peg?”
“You seem to be a very popular person,” smiled Ozma. “While a Country has no right to run away, and while I never heard of one doing it before, I’ve no objections to its being an island. It’s running off with people I object to.” She looked the Country sternly in its lake-eyes.
“But I can’t move,” screamed the Country, tears streaming down its hill, “and I’ve got to have somebody to settle me.”