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express his feelings. No wonder! A charge of wild wash women is enough to frighten the bravest traveller
and that is exactly what was coming. An army of wash women armed with long bars of soap, bottles of
blueing, clothes props, wash boards, tubs and baskets. They were huge and fat, with rolled-up sleeves
and cross, red faces, and the faster they ran the crosser they grew, and the crosser they grew the faster
they ran.
"Doesn't seem polite to fight the ladies, but-Percy raised his arm and flung the cake with all his
might at the head of the advancing army. It struck her smartly on the nose and, with a howl of rage, she
dropped her wash tub and rushed upon the two helpless adventurers.
"Wash their faces! Iron their hands and wring their necks!" she roared hoarsely.
"What are you doing here you-you-scutter-mullions!"
Before either could answer, and Percy was racking his brains to think of a word to rhyme with
scutter-mullions, she had Dorothy by one arm and the Forgetful Poet by the other, shaking them until they
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couldn't have spoken had they tried-while the others pressed so close (as Dorothy told Ozma
afterwards) it's a wonder they weren't smothered on the spot. But at last, weary of shaking them, the wild
wash woman flung them down upon a rock.
"You're a disgrace to our mountain!" she panted angrily. "Look at your clothes!" (To be quite
truthful Dorothy and the Forgetful Poet were looking shabby and dusty in the extreme.)
"Give me his coat! Give me her dress! Snatch off their socks!" screamed the other wash
women, making little snatches at the two on the rock.
Percy put his arms protectingly around Dorothy and Toto showed all his teeth and began to
growl so terribly that even the head of the wash women stepped back.
"What are you doing on Monday Mountain?" she demanded indignantly.
"Monday Mountain?" gasped Percy Vere. "Did you hear that, Dorothy? We're on Monday
Mountain! Great blueing, black and blueing!" finished Percy, with a groan.
"Stop mumbling and speak up!" shouted the wash woman threateningly.
"Stop shouting and shut up!" barked Toto unexpectedly.
"We're searching for a Princess," explained Dorothy, in the surprised silence that followed
Toto's remark.
"A Princess! Oh, mother!"
Out from the dreadful group sprang a perfectly enormous wash girl.
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"Tell them, tell them!" She gave the leader of the tribe a playful push. "Oh, mother, may I have
him?"
"My daughter is a Princess," announced the wash woman grandly, "Princess of the Tubbies,
and as this yellow bird pleases her he may remain."
"And marry me?' exulted the Princess of Monday Mountain, clasping her fat hands in glee.
"Marry you!" shouted Percy Vere, springing to his feet. "Never! Absolutely no-domi-no!
Dorothy, Dorothy, do you hear what they are saying?"
Dorothy did not, for she had both hands over her ears. The shouts and screams of the
Tubbies, at Percy's refusal to marry their Princess, were so shrill and piercing that she thought her head
would split with the racket.
"To the wash tubs with them!" screamed the Queen furiously. "Wash their faces, wring their
necks, hang them up to dry!"
And, seizing upon the luckless pair, the wild wash women bore them struggling and kicking to
the top of Monday Mountain-Toto dashing after-and the herds of clothes horses that graze on the
mountain side scattering in every direction as they passed.
CHAPTER 15
The Finding of Fumbo's Head!
F OR AN HOUR the three crows and Invisi-Bill flew steadily over the Nonestic Ocean, and
flying was so unusual and pleasant a sensation that they were too interested to talk. Besides, Grampa had
warned them in the beginning to keep all their strength for flying, for there was no telling how long they
would remain crows and it would be extremely dangerous to change back while up in the air and over the
ocean. So, except for the occasional calls of Bill to let them know which way to go, they crossed the
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great ocean in silence.
"Land!" screamed the weather cock, as the rocky shores of Ev came into view.
"Well, that's over!" cawed Grampa, alighting thankfully on a rough cliff. "Now we must cross
this country and the sandy desert. Anybody tired?"
Urtha and Tatters shook their heads and no one could see what Bill did, so after a few
minutes' rest they rose into the air again and flew swiftly Over Ev- on and on until they reached the great
desert that entirely surrounds the magic Kingdom of Oz.
"Fly higher!" commanded the old soldier, for he had read so much of the deadly nature of this
desert that he wanted to be as far above it as possible. So the little flock of crows and Invisi-Bill soared
high into the air and they crossed the desert even faster than they had crossed the Nonestic Ocean, fear
lending speed to their wings. And when at last the lovely land of the Winkies spread out below them, the
old soldier gave a crow of delight. "Just keep on this way and we'll be in the Emerald City by noon time!"
exulted Grampa. "Forward for Ragbad and Oz!"
"And flying is such fun," chuckled Urtha, circling close to the old soldier. "I don't care how
long I am a crow. But, oh Mr Grampa, there's a gun sticking through your feathers."
"What?" croaked the old soldier in alarm.
"I feel heavy," spluttered Tatters suddenly, and looking at the young Prince, Grampa saw that
from the waist down he was Tatters and from the waist up he still was crow.
"Down! Everybody down! Down as fast as you can fly," ordered the old soldier in a panic. He
himself could feel his feathers turning to clothes and his wings seemed too light to hold up his body. Half
flying and half falling, half people and half crows, the little company shot downward, and it is mighty lucky
they started down when they did. As it was, they turned back to themselves and landed at one and the
same minute, and the landing was so hard that, for a moment, no one spoke at all. The old soldier broke
the silence.
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"Why, there's Bill," cried Grampa, who was sitting calmly in the middle of a yellow rose bush.
He had grown somewhat used to falling about by this time. "How do you feel, Bill?" asked the old
soldier, extracting several thorns from his person.
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