“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.