over, amid shouts of delight from the spectators, who had been horrified by the ungracious act he had been guilty of.
When Jim came to himself and sat upon his haunches he found the Cowardly Lion crouched on one side of him and the Hungry Tiger on the other, and their eyes were glowing like balls of fire.
“I beg your pardon, I’m sure,” said Jim, meekly. “I was wrong to kick the Sawhorse, and I am sorry I became angry at him. He has won the race, and won it fairly; but what can a horse of flesh do against a tireless beast of wood?”
Hearing this apology the Tiger and the Lion stopped lashing their tails and retreated with dignified steps to the side of the Princess.
“No one must injure one of our friends in our presence,” growled the Lion; and Zeb ran to Jim and whispered that unless he controlled his temper in the future he would probably be torn to pieces.
Then the Tin Woodman cut a straight and strong limb from a tree with his gleaming axe and made a new leg and a new ear for the Sawhorse; and when they had been securely fastened in place Princess Ozma took the coronet from her own head and placed it upon that of the winner of the race. Said she:
“My friend, I reward you for your swiftness by proclaiming you Prince of Horses, whether of wood or of flesh; and hereafter all other horses—in the Land of Oz, at least—must be considered imitations, and you the real Champion of your race.”
There was more applause at this, and then Ozma had the jewelled saddle replaced upon the Sawhorse and herself rode the victor back to the city at the head of the grand procession.
“I ought to be a fairy,” grumbled Jim, as he slowly drew the buggy home; “for to be just an ordinary horse in a fairy country is to be of no account whatever. It’s no place for us, Zeb.”
“It’s lucky we got here, though,” said the boy; and Jim thought of the dark cave, and agreed with him.
18. The Trial of Eureka the Kitten
Several days of festivity and merrymaking followed, for such old friends did not often meet and there was much to be told and talked over between them, and many amusements to be enjoyed in this delightful country.
Ozma was happy to have Dorothy beside her, for girls of her own age with whom it was proper for the Princess to associate were very few, and often the youthful Ruler of Oz was lonely for lack of companionship.
It was the third morning after Dorothy’s arrival, and she was sitting with Ozma and their friends in a reception room, talking over old times, when the Princess said to her maid:
“Please go to my boudoir, Jellia, and get the white piglet I left on the dressing-table. I want to play with it.”
Jellia at once departed on the errand, and she was gone so long that they had almost forgotten her mission when the green robed maiden returned with a troubled face.
“The piglet is not there, your Highness,” said she.
“Not there!” exclaimed Ozma. “Are you sure?”
“I have hunted in every part of the room,” the maid replied.
“Was not the door closed?” asked the Princess.
“Yes, your Highness; I am sure it was; for when I opened it Dorothy’s white kitten crept out and ran up the stairs.”
Hearing this, Dorothy and the Wizard exchanged startled glances, for they remembered how often Eureka had longed to eat a piglet. The little girl jumped up at once.
“Come, Ozma,” she said, anxiously; “let us go ourselves to search for the piglet.”
So the two went to the dressing-room of the Princess and searched carefully in every corner and among the vases and baskets and ornaments that stood about the pretty boudoir. But not a trace could they find of the tiny creature they sought.
Dorothy was nearly weeping, by this time, while Ozma was angry and indignant. When they returned to the others the Princess said:
“There is little doubt that my pretty piglet has been eaten by that horrid kitten, and if that is true the offender must be punished.”
“I don’t b’lieve Eureka would do such a dreadful thing!” cried Dorothy, much distressed. “Go and get my kitten, please, Jellia, and we’ll hear what she has to say about it.”
The green maiden hastened away, but presently returned and said:
“The kitten will not come. She threatened to scratch my eyes out if I touched her.”
“Where is she?” asked Dorothy.
“Under the bed in your own room,” was the reply.
So Dorothy ran to her room and found the kitten under the bed.
“Come here, Eureka!” she said.
“I won’t,” answered the kitten, in a surly voice.
“Oh, Eureka! Why are you so bad?”
The kitten did not reply.
“If you don’t come to me, right away,” continued Dorothy, getting provoked, “I’ll take my Magic Belt and wish you in the Country of the Gurgles.”
“Why do you want me?” asked Eureka, disturbed by this threat.
“You must go to Princess Ozma. She wants to talk to you.”
“All right,” returned the kitten, creeping out. “I’m not afraid of Ozma—or anyone else.”
Dorothy carried her in her arms back to where the others sat in grieved and thoughtful silence.
“Tell me, Eureka,” said the Princess, gently: “did you eat my pretty piglet?”
“I won’t answer such a foolish question,” asserted Eureka, with a snarl.
“Oh, yes you will, dear,” Dorothy declared. “The piglet is gone, and you ran out of the room when Jellia opened the door. So, if you are innocent, Eureka, you must tell the Princess how you came to be in her room, and what has become of the piglet.”
“Who accuses me?” asked the kitten, defiantly.
“No one,” answered Ozma. “Your actions alone accuse you. The fact is that I left my little pet in my dressing-room lying asleep upon the table; and you must have stolen in without my knowing it. When next the door was opened you ran out and hid yourself—and the piglet was gone.”
“That’s none of my business,” growled the kitten.
“Don’t be impudent, Eureka,” admonished Dorothy.
“It is you who are impudent,” said Eureka, “for accusing me of such a crime when you can’t prove it except by guessing.”
Ozma was now greatly incensed by the kitten’s conduct. She summoned her Captain-General, and when the long, lean officer appeared she said:
“Carry this cat away to prison, and keep her in safe confinement until she is tried by law for the crime of murder.”
So the Captain-General took Eureka from the arms of the now weeping Dorothy and in spite of the kitten’s snarls and scratches carried it away to prison.
“What shall we do now?” asked the Scarecrow, with a sigh, for such a crime had cast a gloom over all the company.
“I will summon the Court to meet in the Throne Room at three o’clock,” replied Ozma. “I myself will be the judge, and the kitten shall have a fair trial.”
“What will happen if she is guilty?” asked Dorothy.
“She must die,” answered the Princess.
“Nine