"Then let's go on to the Emerald City," proposed Dorothy eagerly. Once there, reflected the little girl, Ozma herself could settle the whole troublesome business. Somehow Dorothy could not imagine Oz without the little fairy as its Queen, and while she was glad indeed to have found the lost King, she could not get used to the idea of Humpy on the throne and administering affairs in Oz. Humpy, himself, was enjoying it all tremendously. He remembered nothing of his past, it is true, but the present was sufficiently interesting and exciting to make up for everything. "On to the Emerald City!" he commanded, pompously waving his arms. "I hear and I obey, your Majesty," wheezed Kabumpo, and hardly giving the two children and the old tailor time to climb aboard, he was off, still holding Mombi fast in his trunk. "But what about the mountain?" asked Snip, as it loomed up suddenly ahead. "Watch," called Pajuka and while Kabumpo swayed uncertainly before it, he flew straight through the wall of rocks. Like many another mountain when you come right to it, this was no mountain at all--only a shadow mountain. "No wonder Mombi could walk through," sighed Snip, greatly relieved that the witch had not recovered her magic powers. CHAPTER 17 Mombi's Magic The thoughts of the little company, as they sped toward the Emerald City, were many and varied. Mombi, suspended precariously in Kabumpo's trunk, smiled darkly to herself, for Mombi, as usual, had a plan to outwit her enemies. She could not remember changing the King to a dummy at all, and had at first doubted that Humpy really was the King, but when she had read upon his collar the forgotten green magic formula, even Mombi was convinced. All that was now necessary to dispel the enchantment was to reach the Emerald City. "Once there, I'll show them," the old witch chuckled wickedly to herself, as she thought of what would happen then. Pajuka, looking at the stuffed King beside him, was wondering sadly whether he and his royal master would ever be quite the same, whether the good old Oz days they had enjoyed together would ever return again. Fluttering his wings, and keeping his balance with difficulty, the poor goose dreamed longingly of the comfortable chairs in the old hunting lodge, of his pipe and his smoking jacket with sixteen pockets. Snip was trying to puzzle out how the King had ever fallen into California, how Tora had got his strange ears, how Pajuka would look as a man and how Ozma would like giving up the throne to her father. Tora, holding fast to his precious ears, had closed his eyes and begun to plan a blue suit for Snip and a velvet cloak for Dorothy. He had taken a great fancy to the little girl. "Let the other fellows worry about this king," thought the tailor with a tired sigh.