"No, Ozoplanes," corrected the Wizard, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. "Somewhat like the planes in America, but more powerful, for remember, my dear, I had not only the scientific knowledge of aeronautics available to mortals, but the scientific knowledge of magic to help me as well!" "Well!" echoed the Tin Woodman, gazing approvingly at the Wizard's planes, which, except for their silver wings, might have been huge, silver-and-glass torpedoes. "Not for the army, I hope," exclaimed the Soldier, clutching his whiskers nervously. Being the entire army himself, and quite old-fashioned and set in his ways, the Soldier felt sure he never could pilot these gleaming airplanes. "Oh, No! No! NO!" The Wizard frowned at the mere thought of war. "These are pleasure planes for travelling and exploring the unknown regions of the upper air. As soon as Ozma returns from the South, I plan to present them both to our illustrious young Ruler and arrange for her to make the first triumphant flight." "But there are two," said Dorothy a little wistfully. She had hoped to make the first flight with the Wizard, herself. "Of course, of course!" he answered in a matter-of-fact way. "Most experimental flights fail because they depend on _one_ ship. We shall have two!" "We?" Dorothy brightened up considerably at the Wizard's plural. "Yes, we," repeated the Wizard, turning round to smile at the little girl. "Counting Ozma and those of us here, there will be eight passengers--four for each plane." "Now please don't bother about me!" begged the Cowardly Lion, his tail dragging on the ground at the very thought of flying. "I'd not think of troubling you. Besides, I'm much too heavy for flying." "Not at all, not at all," the Wizard reassured him with a wink. "I have made exact calculations about weight, old fellow, and you and the Scarecrow balance each other nicely. So don't worry about that." "Oh, I'm not worrying about _that_!" rumbled the lion, rearing up on his hind legs to read the names outlined in emeralds on the luminous sides of the Wizard's ships. "Ozpril and Oztober!" The lion spoke in a slightly trembling roar. "Mmmn! Mmmnnnnmn! Kerumph!" "Why, those are beautiful names," exclaimed Dorothy, tilting back her head to spell them out for herself. "I thought they were rather neat," said the Wizard complacently. "Suitable too, one to rise and one to fall!" Expressively he lifted an arm and let it fall limply to his side. "To--to fall?" quavered the lion, dropping to all fours.