e of voice.
"And perhaps the shepherd didn't know what he was talking about. Let us
travel on toward the west and discover for ourselves what the people of
this country are like."

It seemed a pleasant enough country, and it was quite still and peaceful
when they turned their eyes away from the silently whirling mountains.
There were trees here and there and green bushes, while throughout the
thick grass were scattered brilliantly colored flowers. About a mile
away was a low hill that hid from them all the country beyond it, so
they realized they could not tell much about the country until they had
crossed the hill.

The Red Wagon having been left behind, it was now necessary to make
other arrangements for traveling. The Lion told Dorothy she could ride
upon his back, as she had often done before, and the Woozy said he could
easily carry both Trot and the Patchwork Girl. Betsy still had her mule,
Hank, and Button-Bright and the Wizard could sit together upon the long,
thin back of the Sawhorse, but they took care to soften their seat with
a pad of blankets before they started. Thus mounted, the adventurers
started for the hill, which was reached after a brief journey.

As they mounted the crest and gazed beyond the hill they discovered not
far away a walled city, from the towers and spires of which gay banners
were flying. It was not a very big city, indeed, but its walls were very
high and thick and it appeared that the people who lived there must
have feared attack by a powerful enemy, else they would not have
surrounded their dwellings with so strong a barrier.

[Illustration]

There was no path leading from the mountains to the city, and this
proved that the people seldom or never visited the whirling hills; but
our friends found the grass soft and agreeable to travel over and with
the city before them they could not well lose their way. When they drew
nearer to the walls, the breeze carried to their ears the sound of
music--dim at first but growing louder as they advanced.

"That doesn't seem like a very terr'ble place," remarked Dorothy.

"Well, it _looks_ all right," replied Trot, from her seat on the Woozy,
"but looks can't always be trusted."

"My looks can," said Scraps. "I _look_ patchwork, and I _am_ patchwork,
and no one but a blind owl could ever doubt that I'm the Patchwork
Girl." Saying which she turned a somersault off the Woozy and, alighting
on her feet, began wildly dancing about.

"Are ow