“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 Princess 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!”