"Let's stay on the ground for awhile," she proposed, eyeing him rather nervously as she packed the remaining sandwiches neatly back in the basket. "I believe there's a path beyond those trees. Maybe it leads to a town or village where we may meet someone who can tell us what we want to know." "You don't expect to find out where Ozma and the others are hidden--straight off, do you?" Rubbing his back lazily against one of the butternut trees, Pigasus looked quizzically at his earnest little companion. "No, I don't really expect that," said Dorothy, slipping the basket over her arm, "but it would be pretty nice if we met somebody who even remembered them, after all we've been through." "I can hardly remember them myself unless you are sitting on my back," admitted the pink pig, trotting soberly along at her side. "This Emperor's magic must be strong medicine. Hello! Here comes a fisherman." Pigasus pricked up both ears and his wings. "Shall I question him or will you?" Without bothering to answer, Dorothy ran eagerly toward the tall Winkie who was coming leisurely along the path. He carried a basket and had a fishing rod over his shoulder, and though his clothes were rough, Dorothy could tell by his manner and bearing that he was a person of some importance. "Oh, please, Mr. Winkie," cried the little girl as he nodded politely and would have passed them without stopping, "could you tell us who is King here?" "King?" answered the fisherman, taking his pipe out of his mouth and looking kindly down at his small questioner. "Why, no one in particular, my dear, but of course, we Winkies and the inhabitants of the three other countries of Oz are governed from the capital by Emperor Skamperoo, a great fellow, our Emp, and have you seen his white horse?" "Yes, I've seen it," said Dorothy, shutting her mouth rather grimly. "But I thought Ozma was Queen?" wheezed Pigasus out of breath from running after Dorothy and too many butternuts. "Ozma? What a curious name," mused the fisherman, looking pensively at the winged pig. "What gave you the idea that Ozma was our ruler? Perhaps you are strangers here?" "Well, it would seem so," puffed Pigasus, sitting down and panting a little from sheer discouragement. "Oh, you'll get used to us," laughed the fisherman with a breezy wave. "Fine country, this; sorry I can't show you 'round, but as I've promised my wife some fish for dinner, I'll have to be moving along. Good day to you. Good day, little girl!" "Good day," echoed Dorothy in a rather flat voice, as the fisherman, lifting his hat, strode briskly into the wood. "You see!" she groaned. "Even here everyone is bewitched. Oh, Piggins, what'll we do? No one in Oz will help or believe us."