Through several marble corridors having lofty ceilings they passed, finding each corridor and doorway guarded by servants; but these servants of the palace were of the people and not giants, and they were so thin that they almost resembled skeletons. Finally they entered a great circular room with a high domed ceiling where the Czarover sat on a throne cut from a solid block of white marble and decorated with purple silk hangings and gold tassels.

The ruler of these people was combing his eyebrows when our friends entered his throne room and stood before him, but he put the comb in his pocket and examined the strangers with evident curiosity. Then he said:

“Dear me, what a surprise! You have really shocked me. For no outsider has ever before come to our City of Herku, and I cannot imagine why you have ventured to do so.”

“We are looking for Ozma, the Supreme Ruler of the Land of Oz,” replied the Wizard.

“Do you see her anywhere around here?” asked the Czarover.

“Not yet, Your Majesty; but perhaps you may tell us where she is.”

“No; I have my hands full keeping track of my own people. I find them hard to manage because they are so tremendously strong.”

“They don’t look very strong,” said Dorothy. “It seems as if a good wind would blow ’em way out of the city, if it wasn’t for the wall.”

“Just so—just so,” admitted the Czarover. “They really look that way, don’t they? But you must never trust to appearances, which have a way of fooling one. Perhaps you noticed that I prevented you from meeting any of my people. I protected you with my giants while you were on the way from the gates to my palace, so that not a Herku got near you.”

“Are your people so dangerous, then?” asked the Wizard.

“To strangers, yes; but only because they are so friendly. For, if they shake hands with you, they are likely to break your arms or crush your fingers to a jelly.”

“Why?” asked Button-Bright.

“Because we are the strongest people in all the world.”

“Pshaw!” exclaimed the boy, “that’s bragging. You prob’ly don’t know how strong other people are. Why, once I knew a man in Philadelphi’ who could bend iron bars with just his hands!”

“But—mercy me!—it’s no trick to bend iron bars,” said His Majesty. “Tell me, could this man crush a block of stone with his bare hands?”

“No one could do that,” declared the boy.

“If I had a block of stone I’d show you,” said the Czarover, looking around the room. “Ah, here is my throne. The back is too high, anyhow, so I’ll just break off a piece of that.”