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"My name is Ozwold," answered the great bird gently. "How do you feel?"
"Dizzy!" groaned Grumpy weakly. "Bewildered," sighed Scraps, jumping aside to let three
rocks roll by.
"I thought so." The Oztrich shook its head in a satisfied manner. "This is a Bewilderness, you
know. Bury your heads like I do," he advised calmly.
"But we want to go to the Emerald City," put in Peter, "and if we bury our heads we'd
smother. Couldn't you carry us to the Emerald City on your back?" he asked daringly.
"Oh, Ozzy, if you only would!" Clasping her hands, Scraps rolled her suspender button eyes
pleadingly at the huge bird.
"Who'd take care of my child?" objected the Oztrich, blinking its eyes very fast and indicating
with its bill an enormous egg lying beside it in the sand.
"Haven't you a wife?" asked Peter in surprise.
"She's gone home to visit her mother," explained the Oztrich in an embarrassed tone. "I must
stay here till the egg hatches."
"Couldn't we take it with us?" proposed Peter eagerly. "Think how proud you'd be to have
your child hatch out in the capital!"
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"Ozma would give it a hatchday present, too," added Scraps coaxingly.
"If you stay here, a rock will probably rush by and break it to pieces. It's a wonder to me it
hasn't been broken long ago," sniffed Grumpy, leaning over to touch the egg with his paw.
"Great moguls! I never thought of that!" Shifting from one foot to the other, the oztrich looked
nervously down at his child. "If you carry my egg I will go away from here," he murmured in a troubled
voice. "Might as well go to the Emerald City. I've always wanted to see the capital. Just wait though, till I
get my bearings!" Burying his head in the sand again, the oztrich stood perfectly motionless for nearly ten
minutes. Fidgeting with impatience and dodging trees and rocks as best they could, Peter and his
companions waited anxiously for the head to reappear. It came up so suddenly, when it did come, that
Grumpy fell over backward.
"Don't speak," warned Ozwold in a tense voice. "Don't speak or I'm lost. Climb up and we'll
start at once!"
Scraps, taking a running jump, landed safely on the oztrich's back. Then Peter carefully
handed up the egg and, boosted by the little bear, took his place behind Scraps. Grumpy himself climbed
aloft with no difficulty and before they were fairly settled the oztrich began pounding across the
Bewilderness. It missed all the trees and rocks very cleverly and, as it travelled nearly a mile a minute,
conversation was out of the question. Scraps, for greater security, wound her long arms about its neck,
Peter had his arms 'round Scrap's waist, the egg balanced carefully in his lap and Grumpy, blinking and
gasping, bounced up and down behind Peter.
"I hope it knows where it's going," thought Peter, as the wind whistled through his hair and the
desert sand stung his cheeks and eyelids. For almost a half hour the oztrich rushed along like an express,
then changing its gait began to travel more slowly. They had come to the end of the Bewilderness by now
and Peter was relieved to see again the yellow farms and fields of the Winkies.
"I've thought of something!" exclaimed Peter, leaning forward to whisper in the Patchwork
Girl's ear. "If Ruggedo is afraid of hen's eggs wouldn't an oztrich egg frighten him much more?"
"Hurrah! Hurray, well I should say!" Squirming round, Scraps looked delightedly at the huge
egg in Peter's lap. "As soon as you see Ruggedo, throw it at his head," advised Scraps, in an excited
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whisper.
"But I promised to keep it safe for the oztrich," objected Peter uneasily, "and I can't break my
promise, can I?"
"You'd be breaking the egg, not your promise," said Scraps earnestly. "Besides, Ozma's more
important than an oztrich egg."
"I'll threaten to throw it," decided Peter. "Anyway, we'll wait till we come to the Emerald City.
Hello, what's this?" Looming up ahead was a high yellow wall. With a snort of displeasure, the oztrich
came to a halt.
"Do you see any gate?" he wheezed, curling his long neck around at Peter.
"I see something over there to the right," answered the little boy, "But are you sure this is a safe
place to go through?"
"No," admitted the Oztrich hoarsely, "but unless we go through, how are we to go on to the
Emerald City?"
"I'll open the gate," volunteered Scraps, slipping easily to the ground. Running over to the right,
Scraps soon found the hollowed out space Peter had noticed, but instead of a gate, an upright piano was
wedged into the opening. Scraps tried to see over the top, but it was too tall. Then she tried to shove it
aside, but it was too heavy. So shrugging her shoulders and tossing back her yarn, Scraps sat down at
the piano and started to play the Grand March of Oz, which she had been practicing faithfully on
Dorothy's piano back at the palace. At the first chord, the piano, as if moved on an invisible hinge, fell
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