by Grampa In Oz
“Can’t they give a feller a rest?”
“What’s a dragon?” asked Urtha, touching Tatters on the arm.
CHAPTER 12: The Island of Isa Poso
WHILE Tatters was still studying the sign and explaining a dragon to Urtha, the old soldier stepped over to another tree where an even larger sign was displayed. This is what it said: REWARD! One-half the kingdom and the hand of the Princess Poso to the slayer of the dragon Enorma. Chin Chilly the Third, King of Isa Poso.
“Hah,” cried Grampa, with a little skip, “this is more like it!” “Like what?” asked Tatters, blowing on his stiff fingers. “Like olden times. In my youth,” said Grampa solemnly, “young lads served in the armies of strange kings, slew monsters and were rewarded with half the kingdom and the Princess’ hand. Let us immediately slay this dragon, my boy, and win the reward. Then all that will be left for us to do will be to find your father’s head.”
“And I’ll find the dragon,” volunteered the weather cock, rising into the frosty air. “What shall I do?” asked Urtha, running up to the old soldier.
“Just be your lovely little self,” smiled Grampa, “and stay where we can see you. Why, just to look at you makes me feel like a conquering army with banners flying.” Urtha was so happy at Grampa’s neat little speech that she blew him a kiss and began dancing in circles over the shimmery snow and wherever Urtha’s foot rested the snow melted and flowers sprang up, until there were circles of posies pricked out against the snow. Grampa and Tatters were so interested that they almost forgot the icy wind that was blowing over this white, frozen land. But soon the Prince, who in spite of the skin of the thread bear was thinly clad, began to shiver and the old soldier to shake in good earnest. First he stood on the other because that was his game leg and not subject to frost bites.
“A game leg’s a mighty fortunate thing,” wheezed Grampa huskily, “but I wish we were like Urtha-then we wouldn’t feel this pesky wind. Let’s march on, for if we stay here we’ll freeze stiff.” Marching on an empty stomach through a strange freezing land was not the pleasantest thing in the world but both Gampa and Tatters stepped out bravely, the young Prince smiling over his shoulder every few minutes at the little flower maiden. “It’s a lucky thing we’re not being followed,” whispered Grampa, and it certainly was-for after them, in a tell-tale row, pansies, tulips, daffodils and forget-me-nots marked out the steps of the light footed little flower fairy.
“I hope we track down this dragon soon, groaned Tatters, pausing to stamp his foot and rub the end of his nose. Icicles were forming on Grampa’s whiskers and the sun, flashing on the snow, almost blinded the gallant old soldier. He was almost ready to quit.
“No wonder the king calls himself Chin Chilly,” chattered Grampa dismally. “My chin’s chilly too; I’m chilly all over. Urtha, my dear, do you see anything that looks like a dragon?”
“I see a bright light,” called Urtha, who was dancing ahead of the shivering adventurers.
“I feel a warm wind!” cried the Prince of Ragbad excitedly.
“The dragon! The dragon!” screamed the weathercock, appearing suddenly over the top of a bleak, icy hill.
Before Bill’s warning had died away, the dragon itself hove into view and, with a great roar, came tobogganing down upon the frightened little company like a scenic railway train. Urtha jumped behind Tatters, Tatters drew his umbrella and Grampa looked down the sights of his gun into the flaming throat of Enorma herself. For a moment nothing happened, for the dragon, now that she was down the hill, seemed to wait for them to make the first move.
“Don’t shoot,” begged the Prince of Ragbad imploringly. “Don’t shoot yet Grampa, it’s the first time I’ve been warm to-day!” Grampa’s whiskers had already thawed out and the heat from the fire-breathing monster was so comforting that they almost forgot their fear. The dragon, on her part, seemed more curious than angry.
“Well, I’ll be snowballed!” she snorted, wagging her head from side to side.
“How did you get here?”
“It’s a long strange story,” sighed Grampa, lowering his gun and holding his hands toward the waves of heat that blew from the dragon’s nostrils.
“We fell, swam, sailed and exploded,” crowed Bill, flapping his wings over the dragon’s head. “Well, before you melt, would you mind telling me why you came at all?” asked Enorma, with a terrific yawn.
“Melt!” exclaimed Grampa, his eyes snapping, “why, I’m just beginning to thaw out.”
“Well, you’ll soon be entirely out of the way,” said the dragon comfortably. “The folk hereabout melt at my mere approach.” Enorma yawned again and began to pant a little, from her slide down the hill.
“Humph!” grunted the old soldier. At the first yawn he had made a startling discovery-at the second he was sure he had made it. Taking out his snuff box, the old soldier tiptoed close to the monster and flung the entire contents in her face. Then, “Run for your lives!” shouted Grampa, starting off at his best pace. And it is well that they quickly obeyed this command, for the sneezes of that dragon shook the entire island and sent the snow in blinding flurries all around them.
“What-what’s happening?” asked the Prince of Ragbad, peering out wildly from behind an icy cliff.
“Your fortune’s made, that’s all!” announced Grampa proudly. “More ways than one of winning a battle.” Stepping out, and motioning for the others to follow, the old soldier approached the still quivering monster. Tears streamed from her eyes and she was still sneezing broken-heart-edly.
“Enorma is as false as her teeth!” puffed Grampa, and with astonishment Tatters and Urtha saw that the dragon was perfectly toothless-having lost her one and only set at the first pinch of Grampa’s snuff.
“Will you finish her off, or shall I?” asked the old soldier, rattling his sword in businesslike fashion. Before Tatters could answer Enorma gave a frightened moan and began scuttling across the snow fields like an express train bound for Atlantic City.
“Halt! Stop! or I’ll fall on your head! Come back here at once and be slaughtered!” screamed Bill, flying after her while the others followed as fast as they could on foot. But in the end Enorma finished herself for, turning to see how close Grampa and Tatters were coming, she plunged headfirst into an icy stream and put herself outcompletely and entirely out-for a dragon can no more stand a dash of water than a furnace, or a witch! When Grampa and Tatters reached the edge of the stream, Enorma was floating like a great green log on the surface, only a tiny puff of smoke to show that she had ever been a roaring, fire-eating, sure-enough monster.
Gentle little Urtha wept a bit but Tatters soon comforted her. Then he and the old soldier moored Enorma fast to a tree, so that they would have proof of their valor when they met the King of the Island. They were all warm from the encounter with the dragon, but it soon wore off and it wasn’t long before they began to shiver again.
“Wish we’d brought one of those house plants along,” sighed Tatters.
“Wish I could get my teeth in one of Mrs. Sew-and-Sew’s ragamuffins,” murmured Grampa, trudging gloomily over the snow.
“Bill’s found something,” called Urtha, who was dancing a few steps ahead. Just then down came the weather cock to announce that he had discovered the dragon’s cave. It was tunneled out of a huge, snowy hill and at one end burned a roaring fire. Dragons, as you know, drink flame as other creatures drink water and Enorma always kept a huge pile of trees burning in her cavern.
“Bill, you’re a real explorer!” cried Grampa and, taking off one of his medals, he hung it ‘round the weather cock’s neck. Stacked against the walls of the cave were great piles of frozen meat, for Enorma-in spite of her false teeth-had been a mighty huntress. In a trice Grampa had a bear steak sputtering on the fire on pointed sticks and nothing could have been cozier than their breakfast.
“I told you our troubles were over,” beamed the old soldier, handing Tatters a portion of the steak on a tin army plate. “All we hav
e to do now is to claim the reward, find the King’s head and journey back to Ragbad.” Grampa grinned with satisfaction.
“But how can we do that?” asked Tatters dubiously. “There’s the ocean and the sandy desert between.”
“Don’t worry,” advised Grampa, settling comfortably before the fire. “This old Chin Chilly will be so delighted to have the dragon out of the way that he’ll probably send us home in a golden ship with our pockets full of diamonds. How will you like that, Loveliness?” Urtha was playing hide and seek with Bill but at Grampa’s words she came over to the fire.
“I’ll like it if Tatters does,” said the little flower fairy, smiling shyly at the Prince of Ragbad.
“Well, I’ll like it,” admitted Tatters, “especially with you along, for we can dance on the deck and play scrum. Why, I’ve never had time to teach you yet. Grampa, won’t you lend us your leg?”
“Not now,” objected the old soldier. “Duty before pleasure, my children. Remember that we have not found this Chin Chilly, nor claimed the reward. As we’re warmed up and fed we’d better start hunting again.”
“Here I go by the name of Bill,” crowed the weather cock, flinging out of the cavern. Grampa stowed some of the dried bear meat in his knapsack and then, forming his little company in line, gave the order to march away.
“First we’ll have another look at the dragon,” said the old soldier, “and then we’ll try to find the palace of Isa Poso.” So down the snowy hill they marched and slid and they had just come to the banks of the stream when harsh voices from the other side of a clump of trees made them stop short.
“Flowers!” screamed the first voice. “Pull them up, tread them down! Who dares to plant flowers on Isa Poso?”
“Footprints, too, Chilly dear,” grunted a deeper voice. “Here is an animal with un-matched feet.” Dropping on his knees, the old soldier peered around the frozen tree trunks and saw two of the islanders bending over the tracks they had made when they chased Enorma. They were towering men of snow, with faces of roughly cut ice and so cruel and forbidding in appearance that just to think of them makes me shudder. Fortunately Grampa was not so easily frightened as I am.
“Animals indeed!” spluttered the old soldier. “Company! Forward march!” And Grampa rushed through the trees so fast that Tatters and Urtha had to run to keep up. So suddenly did they burst out upon the little group of islanders that several of the snow men fell over backwards.
“Where is the King?” shouted Grampa, giving his drum such a whack that three more of the company collapsed. But they quickly recovered themselves and, instead of answering, the tallest snow man flung out his arms toward Urtha.
“Stand still!” he commanded angrily. “You’re ruining my island. Look at the foolish creature cluttering up the place with flowers!” Urtha shrank back toward Tatters and the young Prince, speechless with indignation, grasped his umbrella and prepared to attack. But Grampa restrained him and with another resounding whack of his drum strode up to the speaker. “Is this your island?” asked the old soldier, stamping his game foot.
“Yes, and what are you doing on it?” demanded Chin Chilly, stamping his snow foot. “Just to look at you makes me want to melt!”
“Go ahead and melt,” advised Grampa coldly-by this time he was very cold-“but before you do and before you give us any more of your chin music, hand over the reward. I lay claim to half the Kingdom and the Princess in the name of Prince Tatters of Ragbad!”
“Has he slain the dragon?” asked the King, with a gasp of surprise. His manner changed at once and, looking as pleasant as a fellow with icicle whiskers well can, he turned to Tatters. The Prince of Ragbad nodded shortly, for he had not forgotten the King’s rudeness to Urtha, and Grampa waved his sword toward the body of Enorma, still floating half in and half out of the water. Running down to the edge of the stream, the snow men began to hug one another and dance up and down with excitement.
“This way! This way!” chuckled Chin Chilly, rubbing his hands together gleefully. Grampa, his head held high and his chest thrust out proudly, followed-for Grampa felt that this was a great day in the history of Ragbad-but Tatters was beginning to have misgivings about the Princess of Isa Poso.
CHAPTER 13: Tatters Receives the Reward
PRINCE TATTERS had little time to think of either the ship or the fortune, for after a short march over the snow, Chin Chilly stepped across a small neck of land and the little army found themselves on a great block of ice, only connected with the island itself by the narrow strip on which they had crossed. A messenger had already been dispatched for the Princess and, standing first on one foot then on the other, Tatters impatiently awaited her approach. Urtha, remembering Chin Chilly’s distaste for flowers, kept perfectly still, holding fast to Tatters’ coat-tails and peering anxiously in the direction the messenger had taken.
“Just like the old days; just like the old days!” boasted Grampa, stamping up and down to keep warm. But when, a moment later, the Princess of Isa Poso actually appeared, the old soldier nearly fell from under his hat. Yes, really! For the Princenss was a maiden of ice and, wrapped in her robes of snow, she stared at the Prince of Ragbad so frigidly and with such cold and dreadful disdain that a chill ran down his spine and icicles formed on his lashes.
“My boy,” stuttered Grampa, rushing over to his side, “I’m afraid we’ve been a bit hasty. Let us consider this matter a little further.”
“None of that,” fumed Chin Chilly, bustling forward hastily. “None of that. My word is my word. I insist upon keeping it.”
“We’ll take your word if you’ll keep your daughter,” began Grampa quickly. But, advancing with mincing little steps, the icy Princess held out her hand. Her nose was so long and sharp that it made Tatters squint but before he could make any objection she seized his hand in her cold clasp. At the same moment all the snow men except Chin Chilly sprang back across the little neck of land.
“Run!” panted Grampa, tugging Tatters by the coat.
“Run!” gasped Urtha. But before Tatters could run there was a blinding flash. Chin Chilly had raised his sword, snapped off his daughter’s hand and, seizing her by the other one, he dragged her back across the strip of land. Then, before a body could wink, the snow men with their sharp axes chopped away this connecting link leaving Grampa and his company marooned on the desolate iceberg.
“You have my daughter’s hand, but she’s already grown another,” shouted Chin Chilly maliciously. And so she had! The little party on the ice could plainly see that for themselves. “You have my daughter’s hand and that is your half of the Kingdom,” shrieked the wretched old snow King, nearly bending double at his own joke.
“Half the Kingdom and the Princess’ hand!” snorted the old soldier in a fury. “I’ll snap off his whiskers! I’ll pound him to snow flakes!” Gathering himself together, Grampa prepared to jump back to Isa Poso. But Tatters, flinging the hand of the Princess as far as he could, seized Grampa around the waist. And it is well that he did, for already there was a great stretch of tumbling waters between the iceberg and the island.
“He has no more honor than a swordfish!” spluttered Grampa, breaking away from the Prince. “I’ve never been so insulted in my life!”
“Where is the golden ship?” demanded an indignant voice. “Where are the diamonds? What have you done with the Princess?” Dropping with a thud that sent a shower of ice splinters into the air, the weather cock planted himself before Grampa. He had been looking all over Isa Poso for Chin Chilly and had arrived just in time to see his friends sailing off on the iceberg.
“Oh, Bill!” cried Urtha, giving the iron bird an impulsive hug, “I thought you were lost!”
“Where is the golden ship? Where are the diamonds?” insisted the weather cock, slipping out of Urtha’s embrace.
“Oh, go crack yourself some icicles,” muttered the old soldier crossly. He did not like to be reminded of his cheerful prophecy. “Go crack yourself some icicles, Bill, that’s
all the diamonds you’ll get.”
“There isn’t any ship-nor any diamonds-nor anything!” said Tatters, wrapping the skin of the old thread bear more tightly about him and staring drearily over the tossing waters of the Nonestic Ocean.
“But you don’t have to marry the Princess,” Urtha reminded him softly, “and even if this isn’t a golden ship couldn’t we dance and be happy?”
“Well, if we don’t dance, we’ll freeze,” fumed Grampa, beginning to stamp up and down. “We’ll freeze anyway,” he predicted gloomily. “Look pleasant, my boy. We might as well freeze as attractively as possible. They’ll carve us a monument on a block of ice, no doubt: ‘Frozen in the line of duty!’ Tatters coughed plaintively and began to tramp sadly up and down after Grampa. “Don’t freeze,” begged the little flower fairy, clasping her hands in distress and keeping step with the downhearted adventurers. “Why, where’s that funny bottle?” she asked suddenly.
“The medicine! What have you done with the wizard’s medicine?” crowed the weather cock, flapping his wings. Now so much had happened to the old soldier since the eruption that he had entirely forgotten Gorba’s cure for everything. But at Urtha’s words he snatched it out and, there, listed under colds, chills, frost bites and exposure, Grampa found a remedy for their troubles.
“You’ve saved our lives, my dear,” sighed the old soldier, measuring out four drops for Tatters on a spoonful of snow. And everything was better after that, for as soon as Grampa and the Prince swallowed the marvelous mixture they began to tingle with warmth and even an iceberg could not long be cheerless with a little fairy like Urtha aboard. Everywhere she stepped gay posies blossomed and soon there were circles and circles of them bobbing in the bright sunshine. Urtha and Bill did not feel the cold, and as Grampa and Tatters were now frost proof, their whole outlook changed. The huge iceberg was sliding along through the choppy waves at high speed and the sensation was not only pleasant but highly exhilarating.