“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 Grampa 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.