without so much trouble."

"Suppose," said Ojo, "you wait here and let me do the climbing, for
it's on my account we're searching for the dark well. Then, if I don't
find anything, I'll come back and join you."

"No," replied the little girl, shaking her head positively, "we'll all
go together, for that way we can help each other. If you went alone,
something might happen to you, Ojo."

So they began the climb and found it indeed difficult, for a way. But
presently, in creeping over the big crags, they found a path at their
feet which wound in and out among the masses of rock and was quite
smooth and easy to walk upon. As the path gradually ascended the
mountain, although in a roundabout way, they decided to follow it.

"This must be the road to the Country of the Hoppers," said the
Scarecrow.

"Who are the Hoppers?" asked Dorothy.

"Some people Jack Pumpkinhead told me about," he replied.

"I didn't hear him," replied the girl.

"No; you were asleep," explained the Scarecrow. "But he told Scraps and
me that the Hoppers and the Horners live on this mountain."

"He said _in_ the mountain," declared Scraps; "but of course he meant
_on_ it."

"Didn't he say what the Hoppers and Horners were like?" inquired
Dorothy.

"No; he only said they were two separate nations, and that the Horners
were the most important."

"Well, if we go to their country we'll find out all about 'em," said the
girl. "But I've never heard Ozma mention those people, so they can't be
_very_ important."

"Is this mountain in the Land of Oz?" asked Scraps.

"Course it is," answered Dorothy. "It's in the South Country of the
Quadlings. When one comes to the edge of Oz, in any direction, there is
nothing more to be seen at all. Once you could see sandy desert all
around Oz; but now it's diff'rent, and no other people can see us, any
more than we can see them."

"If the mountain is under Ozma's rule, why doesn't she know about the
Hoppers and the Horners?" Ojo asked.

"Why, it's a fairyland," explained Dorothy, "and lots of queer people
live in places so tucked away that those in the Emerald City never even
hear of 'em. In the middle of the country it's diff'rent, but when you
get around the edges you're sure to run into strange little corners that
surprise you. I know, for I've traveled in Oz a good deal, and so has
the Scarecrow."

"Yes," admitted the straw man, "I've been considerable of a traveler, in
my time, and I like to explo