Next instant it had risen to the top, caught the four fire-proof travellers in its sulphurous waves and hurled itself frothing and bubbling to the top of the earth. Being erupted from a volcano is such a noisy, smothering, altogether terrifying experience that Grampa and his little army could not have told what was happening had they tried. And had it not been for Gorba’s medicine they would have blown clear out of the story, but, thanks to the medicine, the boiling lava did not injure them and having hurled them from the middle of the earth and some fifty feet higher than the earth, the liquid immediately surrounding them began to harden and form a flying-island.

Of course Grampa and Tatters were too dizzy to know this and the first indication they had that the eruption was over was a dreadful bounce and a perfect shower of water. The water brought them to their senses and—fearfully opening their eyes—they looked around. Horrors! The volcano was in the Kingdom of Ev, on the other side of the Deadly Desert, and had flung them clear into the Nonestic Ocean itself! This great body of water lies far to the Northwest and mighty few Ozites have ever reached its shores.

Well, coughed Grampa, rubbing his game leg vigorously, I thought we were goners, but I see we are survivors. Are you all right? Are you all here?

Urtha shook her lovely fern hair out of her eyes and, strange as it may seem, the little flower girl had come through the eruption without crushing a single posy.

Fair and cooler! wheezed Bill, hopping up on a little ridge of the hardened lava.

But how did we get here? asked Tatters, rubbing his eyes.

You’ll have to ask Blazes, puffed Grampa, but I must say I prefer water to fire. Already the spirits of the old soldier were beginning to rise. We may be far from home, but we’re on top again and still moving. Grampa took a few marching steps and waved his sword.

And what are those? asked Urtha, standing on tip-toe to point at the stars. In the wizard’s garden there had been no sky. Tatters explained as best he could and the little flower girl clasped her hands and gazed up in delight. They’re sky flowers, she confided to Bill, but the weather cock was too busy looking for the fortune to answer.

Seems to me we’re shipwrecked, observed Tatters gloomily. Their little island was bobbing up and down on top of the waves and there was no land of any kind in sight. But Grampa, who had been investigating the contents of his knapsack, gave a little chuckle. The bread and butter they had picked in the wizard’s garden—not being entirely fire proof—was nicely toasted and looked so crisp and inviting that it made Grampa’s mouth water.

What you fussing about? said the old soldier, winking at the Prince. ’Tisn’t everybody can have their supper cooked in a volcano. He handed Tatters a great pile of the toast and after the Prince of Ragbad had eaten a dozen slices, he began to feel more cheerful himself.

All we need is a little sleep, yawned the old soldier, after they had finished off the toast, for neither Bill nor Urtha needed food. If Bill will keep watch, you and I had better turn in, for there’s no knowing what may happen to-morrow.

I’ll keep watch, promised Bill readily.

Hush! warned Grampa suddenly, for Urtha, wearied by her strange adventures, had fallen fast asleep in the middle of counting the stars and lay in a fragrant heap, her lovely violet eyes closed tight and all the big and little posies that made up the wonderful little flower girl herself were asleep too.

If she hadn’t been a fairy, whispered Grampa, looking down at her affectionately, she would have wilted long ago. We must take good care of her, my boy, for I doubt if there’s as lovely a little lady anywhere else in Oz.

She’s the only luck we’ve had, mused Tatters, and I wish— The Prince looked up at the stars and did not finish his sentence but, rolling up the skin of the old thread bear, he made a pillow for Urtha’s head and he and Grampa went tip-toeing to the other side of the island and stretched themselves on the ground. The motion of the little island, as it rode lightly over the waves, was very soothing and before long the old soldier and the young Prince were sound asleep too, leaving only the weather cock on guard. And Bill, in all the years he had spent on the barn near Chicago, had never felt so important. Perched on the highest ridge of the island, he kept a sharp look-out in all directions, scanning the tumbling waters of the Nonestic Ocean for signs of a fortune and a Princess and talking softly to himself in the starlight.

Grampa was having a fine dream. He was being presented at court and was just about to shake hands with Princess Ozma herself, when he was wakened by a ton of kitchen tins falling down a mountainside. Or that’s what it sounded like to Grampa. Leaping to his feet, the old soldier snatched up his gun. Tatters and Urtha were both sitting bolt upright, rubbing their eyes.

It’s Bill! yawned the Prince sleepily. With an exclamation of disgust, the old soldier threw down his gun and covered his ears. The weather cock was indulging in his morning crow and helping the sun to rise. Just as Grampa thought he could not stand it another minute, the frightful clamor ceased.

The sun has risen, announced Bill calmly, and there’s land ahead!

It was a bit foggy but, crowding to the edge of the island, the little company saw that they were being carried straight toward a land of ice and snow. Tatters and Urtha had never seen snow before, for there is no snow in Oz, but Grampa had read all about such things in Fumbo’s books and, while he was explaining, the little island bumped on the snowy shores of this strange ice-bound land.

All off! cried Grampa, seizing Urtha by the hand. Tatters ran back for his umbrella and the skin of the old thread bear; then jumped after Grampa and the flower maiden.

Colder and colder! predicted Bill, flying after the Prince and settling on the branches of an ice-covered tree. But Tatters was not thinking of the weather. With round eyes, he was studying a huge sign that stretched between two tall hemlocks.

The Illustrious Island of Isa Poso, announced the sign, and in smaller letters, Beware of the dragon.

Great Gollywockers! gasped the old soldier, reading over Tatters’ shoulder. Can’t they give a feller a rest?

What’s a dragon? asked Urtha, touching Tatters on the arm.