Pompadore repeated the words solemnly; then fell a-thinking of all he had heard of Ozma of Oz, the loveliest little fairy imaginable.
“She wouldn’t want one of her Kingdom to disappear,” reflected Pompadore sagely. Now, as it happened, Ozma did not even know of the existence of Pumperdink. Oz is so large and inhabited by so many strange and singular peoples that although fourteen books of history have been written about it, only half the story has been told. There are no Oz railway or steamship lines and traveling is tedious and slow, owing to the magic nature of the land itself, its many mountains and fairy forests, so that Pumperdink, like many of the small Kingdoms on the outskirts of Oz, has never been explored by Ozma.
Oz itself is a huge oblong country divided into four parts, the North being the purple Gilliken country, the East the blue Munchkin country, the South the red lands of the Quadlings, and the West the pleasant yellow country of the Winkies. In the very center of Oz, as almost every boy and girl knows, is the wonderful Emerald City, and in its gorgeous green palace lives Ozma, the lovely little Fairy Princess, whom Kabumpo wanted Pompadore to marry.
“Do you know,” mused the Prince, after they had traveled some time through the dim forest, “I believe that gold mirror has a lot to do with all this. I believe it was put in the cake to help me find the Proper Princess.”
“Where would you find a more Proper Princess than Ozma?” puffed Kabumpo indignantly. “Ozma is the one—depend upon it!”
“Just the same,” said Pompa firmly, “I’m going to try every Princess we meet!”
“Do you expect to find ’em running wild in the woods?” snorted Kabumpo, who didn’t like to be contradicted.
“You never can tell.” The Prince of Pumperdink settled back comfortably. Now that they were really started, he was finding traveling extremely interesting. “I should have done this long ago,” murmured the Prince to himself. “Every Prince should go on a journey of adventure.”
“How long will it take us to reach the Emerald City?” he asked presently.
“Two days, if nothing happens,” answered Kabumpo. “Say—what’s that?” He stopped short and spread his ears till they looked like sails. The underbrush at the right was crackling from the springs of some large animal, and next minute a hoarse voice roared: