From the top of the hill Ozma and Dorothy looked downinto the valley beyond and were surprised to find itfilled with a floating mist that was as dense as smoke.Nothing in the valley was visible except these rollingwaves of mist, but beyond, on the other side, rose agrassy hill that appeared quite beautiful.

"Well," said Dorothy, "what are we to do, Ozma? Walkdown into that thick fog, an' prob'bly get lost in it,or wait till it clears away?"

"I'm not sure it will clear away, however long wewait," replied Ozma, doubtfully. "If we wish to get on,I think we must venture into the mist."

"But we can't see where we're going, or what we'restepping on," protested Dorothy. "There may bedreadful things mixed up in that fog, an' I'm scaredjust to think of wading into it."

Even Ozma seemed to hesitate. She was silent andthoughtful for a little while, looking at the rollingdrifts that were so gray and forbidding. Finally shesaid:

"I believe this is a Mist Valley, where these moistclouds always remain, for even the sunshine above doesnot drive them away. Therefore the Mist Maids must livehere, and they are fairies and should answer my call."

She placed her two hands before her mouth, forming ahollow with them, and uttered a clear, thrilling, bird-like cry. It floated far out over the mist waves andpresently was answered by a similar sound, as of a far-off echo.

Dorothy was much impressed. She had seen many strangethings since coming to this fairy country, but here wasa new experience. At ordinary times Ozma was just likeany little girl one might chance to meet -- simple,merry, lovable as could be -- yet with a certainreserve that lent her dignity in her most joyous moods.There were times, however, when seated on her throneand commanding her subjects, or when her fairy powerswere called into use, when Dorothy and all others abouther stood in awe of their lovely girl Ruler andrealized her superiority.

Ozma waited. Presently out from the billows rosebeautiful forms, clothed in fleecy, trailing garmentsof gray that could scarcely be distinguished from themist. Their hair was mist-color, too; only theirgleaming arms and sweet, pallid faces proved they wereliving, intelligent creatures answering the call of asister fairy.

Like sea nymphs they rested on the bosom of theclouds, their eyes turned questioningly upon the twogirls who stood upon the bank. One came quite near andto her Ozma said:

"Will you please take us to the opposite hillside? Weare afraid to venture into the mist. I am Princess Ozmaof Oz, and this is my friend Dorothy, a Princess ofOz."

The Mist Maids came nearer, holding out their arms.Without hesitation Ozma advanced and allowed them toembrace her and Dorothy plucked up courage to follow.Very gently the Mist Maids held them. Dorothy thoughtthe arms were cold and misty -- they didn't seem realat all -- yet they supported the two girls above thesurface of the billows and floated with them so swiftlyto the green hillside opposite that the girls wereastonished to find themselves set upon the grass beforethey realized they had fairly started.

"Thank you!" said Ozma gratefully, and Dorothy alsoadded her thanks for the service.

The Mist Maids made no answer, but they smiled andwaved their hands in good-bye as again they floated outinto the mist and disappeared from view.