Finally she said: "I believe this is a Mist Valley, where these moist clouds always remain, for even the sunshine above does not drive them away.

Therefore the Mist Maids must live here, and they are fairies and should answer my call." She placed her two hands before her mouth, forming a hollow with them, and uttered a clear, thrilling, bird-like cry.

It floated far out over the mist waves and presently was answered by a similar sound, as of a far-off echo.
Dorothy was much impressed.

She had seen many strange things since coming to this fairy country, but here was a new experience.

At ordinary times Ozma was just like any little girl one might chance to meet--simple, merry, lovable as could be--yet with a certain reserve that lent her dignity in her most joyous moods.