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.