“True enough,” agreed Dorothy. “So we must find some way, of course, to get past these whirligig hills. But how?”

“I wish the Ork was with us,” sighed Trot.

“But the Ork isn’t here,” said the Wizard, “and we must depend upon ourselves to conquer this difficulty. Unfortunately, all my magic has been stolen; otherwise I am sure I could easily get over the mountains.”

“Unfortunately,” observed the Woozy, “none of us has wings. And we’re in a magic country without any magic.”

“What is that around your waist, Dorothy?” asked the Wizard.

“That? Oh, that’s just the Magic Belt I once captured from the Nome King,” she replied.

“A Magic Belt! Why, that’s fine. I’m sure a Magic Belt would take you over these hills.”

“It might, if I knew how to work it,” said the little girl. “Ozma knows a lot of its magic, but I’ve never found out about it. All I know is that while I am wearing it nothing can hurt me.”

“Try wishing yourself across, and see if it will obey you,” suggested the Wizard.

“But what good would that do?” asked Dorothy. “If I got across it wouldn’t help the rest of you, and I couldn’t go alone among all those giants and dragons, while you stayed here.”

“True enough,” agreed the Wizard, sadly; and then, after looking around the group, he inquired: “What is that on your finger, Trot?”

“A ring. The Mermaids gave it to me,” she explained, “and if ever I’m in trouble when I’m on the water I can call the Mermaids and they’ll come and help me. But the Mermaids can’t help me on the land, you know, ’cause they swim, and—and—they haven’t any legs.”

“True enough,” repeated the Wizard, more sadly.

There was a big, broad-spreading tree near the edge of the gulf and as the sun was hot above them they all gathered under the shade of the tree to study the problem of what to do next.

“If we had a long rope,” said Betsy, “we could fasten it to this tree and let the other end of it down into the gulf and all slide down it.”

“Well, what then?” asked the Wizard.

“Then, if we could manage to throw the rope up the other side,” explained the girl, “we could all climb it and be on the other side of the gulf.”

“There are too many ‘if’s’ in that suggestion,” remarked the little Wizard. “And you must remember that the other side is nothing but spinning mountains, so we couldn’t possibly fasten a rope to them—even if we had one.”

“That rope idea isn’t half bad, though,” said the Patchwork Girl, who had been dancing dangerously near to the edge of the gulf.

“What do you mean?” asked Dorothy.

The Patchwork Girl suddenly stood still and cast her button eyes around the group.