 CHAPTER VII. THE LITTLE WHITE PRINCESS ALWAYS WOKE IN HER LITTLE WHITE BED WHEN THE STARLINGS BEGAN TO CHETTER IN THE PURL GRAY MORNING. As soon as the woods were awake she used to run up the twisting turret stairs with her little bare feet, and stand on the top of the tower in her white bed gown and kiss her hands to the sun and to the woods and to the sleeping town and say, Good morning, pretty world. Then she would run down the cold stone steps and dress herself in her short skirt and her cap in apron and begin the day's work. She swept the rooms and made the breakfast. She washed the dishes and she scoured the pans. And all this she did because she was a real princess. For of all who should have served her only one remained faithful, her old nurse, who had lived with her in the tower, all the princess's life. And now the nurse was old and feeble, the princess would not let her work anymore, but did all the housework herself, while nurse sat still and did the sewing, because this was a real princess with skin like milk and hair like flax and a heart like gold. Her name was Sabranetta, and her grandmother was Sabra, who married St. George after he had killed the dragon. And by real rites all the country belonged to her, the woods that stretched away to the mountains, the downs that sloped down to the sea, the pretty fields of corn and maize and rye, the olive orchards and the vineyards, and the little town itself with its towers and its turrets, its steep roofs and strange windows that nestled in the hollow between the sea where the whirlpool was and the mountains white with snow and rosy with sunrise. But when her father and mother had died, leaving her cousin to take care of the kingdom till she grew up, he, being a very evil prince, took everything away from her and all the people followed him, and now nothing was left her of all her possessions except the great dragon-proof tower that her grandfather, St. George, had built, and of all who should have been her servants, only the good nurse. This was why Sabranetta was the first person in all the land to get a glimpse of the wonder. Early, early, early, while all the townspeople were fast asleep, she ran up the turret steps and looked out over the field, and at the other side of the field there was a green, ferny ditch and a rose-thorny hedge, and then came the wood. And as Sabranetta stood on her tower, she saw a shaking and a twisting of the rose-thorny hedge, and then something very bright and shining wriggled out through it into the ferny ditch and back again. It only came out for a minute, but she saw it quite plainly, and she said to herself, Dear me, what a curious, shiny, bright-looking creature. If it were bigger, and if I didn't know that there have been no fabulous monsters for quite a long time now, I should almost think it was a dragon. The thing, whatever it was, did look rather like a dragon, but then it was too small, and it looked rather like a lizard, only then it was too big. It was about as long as a hearth rug. I wish it had not been in such a hurry to get back into the wood, said Sabranetta. Of course, it's quite safe for me in my dragon-proof tower, but if it is a dragon, it's quite big enough to eat people, and today's the first of May, and the children go out to get flowers in the wood. When Sabranetta had done the housework, she did not leave so much as a speck of dust anywhere, even in the corneriest corner of the winding stair. She put on her milk-white, silky gown with the moon-daisies worked on it, and went up to the top of her tower again. Across the fields, troops of children were going out together the May, and the sound of their laughter and singing came up to the top of the tower. I do hope it wasn't a dragon, said Sabranetta. The children went by twos and by threes and by tins and by twenties, and the red and blue and yellow and white of their frocks were scattered on the green of the field. It's like a green silk mantle worked with flowers, said the princess, smiling. Then by twos and by threes, by tins and by twenties, the children vanished into the wood till the mantle of the field was left plain green once more. All the embroidery is unpicked, said the princess, sighing. The sun shone and the sky was blue and the fields were quite green, and all the flowers were very bright indeed because it was May Day. Then quite suddenly a cloud passed over the sun, and the silence was broken by shrieks from far off. And like a mini-colored torrent, all the children burst from the wood and rushed a red and blue and yellow and white wave across the field, screaming as they ran. Their voices came up to the princess on her tower, and she heard the words threaded on their screams like beads on sharp needles. The dragon! The dragon! The dragon! Open the gate! The dragon is coming! The fiery dragon! And they swept across the field and into the gate of the town, and the princess heard the gate bang, and the children were out of sight. But on the other side of the field the rose thorns crackled and smashed in the hedge, and something very large and glaring and horrible trampled the ferns in the ditch for one moment before it hit itself again in the covert of the wood. The princess went down and told her nurse, and the nurse at once locked the great door of the tower and put the key in her pocket. Let them take care of themselves, she said, when the princess begged to be allowed to go out and help to take care of the children. My business is to take care of you, my precious, and I'm going to do it. Old as I am, I can turn a key still. So Sabranetta went up again to the top of her tower and cried whenever she thought of the children and the fiery dragon. For she knew, of course, that the gates of the town were not dragon-proof and that the dragon could just walk in whenever he liked. The children ran straight to the palace where the prince was cracking his hunting whip down at the kennels and told him what had happened. Good sport, said the prince, and he ordered out his pack of hippopotamuses at once. It was his custom to hunt big game with hippopotamuses, and the people would not have minded that so much, but he would swagger about in the streets of the town with his pack yelping and gambling at his heels, and when he did that the greengrocer, who had his stall in the marketplace, always regretted it. And the crockery merchant, who spread his wares on the pavement, was ruined for life every time the prince chose to show off his pack. The prince rode out of the town with his hippopotamuses trotting and frisking behind him, and people got inside their houses as quickly as they could when they heard the voices of his pack and the blowing of his horn. The pack squeezed through the town gates and off across country to hunt the dragon. Few of you who had not seen a pack of hippopotamuses in full cry will be able to imagine at all what the hunt was like. To begin with, hippopotamuses do not bay like hounds. They grunt like pigs, and their grunt is very big and fierce. Then, of course, no one expects hippopotamuses to jump. They just crash through the hedges and lumber through the standing corn, doing serious injury to the crops and annoying the farmers very much. All the hippopotamuses had collars with their name and address on, but when the farmers called at the palace to complain of the injury to their standing crops, the prince always said it served them right for leaving their crops standing about in people's way, and he never paid anything at all. So now, when he and his pack went out, several people in the town whispered, I wish the dragon would eat him, which was very wrong of them, no doubt, but then he was such a very nasty prince. They hunted by field, and they hunted by walled. They drew the woods blank, and the scent didn't lie on the downs at all. The dragon was shy and would not show himself. But just as the prince was beginning to think there was no dragon at all, but only a cock and bull, his favorite old hippopotamus gave tongue. The prince blew his horn and shouted, Telly Ho, hark forward, tan to thee, and the whole pack charged downhill toward the hollow by the wood. For there, plain to be seen, was the dragon as big as a barge, glowing like a furnace, and spitting fire and showing his shining teeth. The hunt is up, cried the prince, and indeed it was. For the dragon, instead of behaving as a quarry should in running away, ran straight at the pack, and the prince on his elephant had the mortification of seeing his prized pack swallowed up one by one in the twinkling of an eye by the dragon they had come out to hunt. The dragon swallowed all the hippopotamuses just as a dog swallowed bits of meat. It was a shocking sight. Of the whole of the pack that had come out sporting so merrily to the music of the horn, now not even a puppy hippopotamus was left, and the dragon was looking anxiously around to see if he had forgotten anything. The prince slipped off his elephant on the other side and ran into the thickest part of the wood. He hoped the dragon could not break through the bushes there since they were very strong and close. He went crawling on hands and knees in a most un-prints-like way, and at last, finding a hollow tree, he crept into it. The wood was very still. No crashing of branches and no smell of burning came to alarm the prince. He drained the silver hunting bottle slung from his shoulder and stretched his legs in the hollow tree. He never shed a single tear for his poor, tame hippopotamuses who had eaten from his hand and followed him faithfully and all the pleasures of the chase for so many years. For he was a false prince with a skin-like leather and hair like hearth brushes and a heart like a stone. He never shed a tear, but he just went to sleep. When he awoke, it was dark. He crept out of the tree and rubbed his eyes. The wood was black about him, but there was a red glow in a dell close by. It was a fire of sticks, and beside it sat a ragged youth with long, yellow hair. All around lay sleeping forms which breathed heavily. Who are you? said the prince. I'm Elphin, the pig-keeper, said the ragged youth. And who are you? I'm Tiresome, the prince, said the other. And what are you doing out of your palace at this time of night? Asked the pig-keeper severely. I've been hunting, said the prince. The pig-keeper laughed. Oh, it was you I saw then. A good hunt, wasn't it? My pigs and I were looking on. All the sleeping forms grunted and snored, and the prince saw that they were pigs. He knew it by their manners. If you had known as much as I do, Elphin went on, you might have saved your pack. What do you mean? said Tiresome. Quite the dragon, said Elphin. You went out at the wrong time of day. The dragon should be hunted at night. No thank you, said the prince with a shudder. A daylight hunt is quite good enough for me, you silly pig-keeper. Oh well, said Elphin, do as you like about it. The dragon will come and hunt you tomorrow as like as not. I don't care if he does, you silly prince. You're very rude, said Tiresome. Oh no, only truthful, said Elphin. Well, tell me the truth then. What is it that if I had known as much as you do about, I shouldn't have lost my hippopotamuses? You don't speak very good English, said Elphin. But come, what will you give me if I tell you? If you tell me what, said the Tiresome prince. What you want to know? I don't want to know anything, said Prince Tiresome. Then you're more of a silly even than I thought, said Elphin. Don't you want to know how to settle the dragon before he settles you? It might be as well, the prince admitted. Well, I haven't much patience at any time, said Elphin. And now I can assure you that there is very little left. What will you give me if I tell you? Half my kingdom, said the prince, and my cousin's hand in marriage. Done, said the pig-keeper. Here goes. The dragon grows small at night. He sleeps under the root of this tree. I use him to light my fire with. And sure enough, there under the tree was the dragon on a nest of scorched moss, and he was about as long as your finger. How can I kill him? asked the prince. I don't know that you can kill him, said Elphin. But you can take him away if you've brought anything to put him in. That bottle of yours would do. So between them they managed, with bits of stick and by singeing their fingers a little, to poke and shove the dragon till they made it creep into the silver hunting bottle, and then the prince screwed on the top tight. Now we've got him, said Elphin. Let's take him home and put Solomon's seal on the mouth of the bottle, and then he'll be safe enough. Come along, we'll divide up the kingdom tomorrow, and then I shall have some money to buy fine clothes to go courting in. But when the wicked prince made promises, he did not make them to keep. Go on with you. What do you mean? he said. I found the dragon and I've imprisoned him. I never said a word about courtings or kingdoms. If you say I did, I shall cut your head off at once. And he drew his sword. All right, said Elphin, shrugging his shoulders. I'm better off than you are anyhow. What do you mean? spluttered the prince. Why, you've only got a kingdom and a dragon, but I've got clean hands and five and seventy fine black pigs. So Elphin sat down again by his fire, and the prince went home and told his parliament how clever and brave he had been. And though he woke them up on purpose to tell them, they were not angry but said, You are indeed brave and clever, for they knew what happened to people with whom the prince was not pleased. Then the prime minister solemnly put Solomon's seal on the mouth of the bottle, and the bottle was put in the treasury, which was the strongest building in the town, and was made of solid copper, with walls as thick as Waterloo Bridge. The bottle was sat down among the sacks of gold, and the junior secretary to the junior clerk of the last Lord of the Treasury was appointed to sit up all night with it and see if anything happened. The junior secretary had never seen a dragon, and what was more, he did not believe the prince had ever seen a dragon either. The prince had never been a really truthful boy, and it would have been just like him to bring home a bottle with nothing in it and then to pretend that there was a dragon inside. So the junior secretary did not at all mind being left. They gave him the key, and when everyone in the town had gone back to bed, he let in some of the junior secretaries from other government departments, and they had a jolly game of hide and seek among the sacks of gold, and played marbles with the diamonds and rubies and pearls in the big ivory chests. They enjoyed themselves very much, but by and by the copper treasury began to get warmer and warmer, and suddenly the junior secretary cried out, Look at the bottle! The bottle sealed with Solomon's seal had swollen to three times its proper size, and seemed to be nearly red hot, and the air got warmer and warmer, and the bottle bigger and bigger till all the junior secretaries agreed that the place was too hot to hold them, and out they went, tumbling over each other in their haste. And just as the last got out and locked the door, the bottle burst, and out came the dragon, very fiery, and swelling more and more every minute, and he began to eat the sacks of gold and crunch up the pearls and diamonds and rubies as if they were sugar. By breakfast time he had devoured the whole of the prince's treasures, and when the prince came along the street at about eleven, he met the dragon coming out of the broken door of the treasury with molten gold still dripping from his jaws. Then the prince turned and ran for his life, and as he ran toward the dragon-proof tower, the little white princess saw him coming, and she ran down and unlocked the door and let him in, and slammed the dragon-proof door in the fiery face of the dragon, who sat down and whined outside, because he wanted the prince very much indeed. The princess took Prince Tiresome into the best room and laid the cloth and gave him cream and eggs and white grapes and honey and bread, with many other things, yellow and white and good to eat, and she served him just as kindly as she would have done if he had been anyone else instead of the bad prince who had taken away her kingdom and kept it for himself, because she was a true princess and had a heart of gold. When he had eaten and drunk, he begged the princess to show him how to lock and unlock the door. The nurse was asleep, so there was no one to tell the princess not to, and she did. You turn the key like this, she said, and the door keeps shut, but turn it nine times around the wrong way and the door flies open, and so it did. And the moment it opened, the prince pushed the white princess out of her tower just as he had pushed her out of the kingdom and shut the door, for he wanted to have the tower all for himself. And there she was in the street, and on the other side of the way the dragon was sitting whining, but he did not try to eat her, because, though the old nurse did not know it, dragons cannot eat white princesses with hearts of gold. The princess could not walk through the streets of the town in her milky, silky gown with the daisies on it and with no hat and no gloves, so she turned the other way and ran out across the meadows toward the wood. She had never been out of her tower before, and the soft grass under her feet felt like grass of paradise. She ran right into the thickest part of the wood, because she did not know what her heart was made of, and she was afraid of the dragon. And there in a dell she came on Elphin and his five and seventy fine pigs. He was playing his flute, and around him the pigs were dancing cheerfully on their hind legs. Oh, dear, said the princess, do take care of me. I am so frightened. I will, said Elphin, putting his arms around her. Now you are quite safe. What were you frightened of? The dragon, she said. So it's gotten out of the silver bottle, said Elphin. I hope it's eaten the prince. No, said Sabranetta. But why? He told her of the mean trick that the prince had played on him. And he promised me half his kingdom and the hand of his cousin the princess, said Elphin. Oh, dear, what a shame, said Sabranetta, trying to get out of his arms. How dare he? What's the matter? he asked, holding her tighter. It was a shame, or at least I thought so. But now he may keep his kingdom half and whole if I may keep what I have. What's that? asked the princess. Why, you, my pretty, my dear, said Elphin. And as for the princess, his cousin. Forgive me, dearest heart. But when I asked for her, I hadn't seen the real princess, the only princess, my princess. Do you mean me? said Sabranetta. Who else? he asked. Yes, but five minutes ago you hadn't seen me. Five minutes ago I was a pig keeper. Now I've held you in my arms. I'm a prince, though I should have to keep pigs to the end of my days. But you haven't asked me, said the princess. You asked me to take care of you, said Elphin. And I will, all my life long. So that was settled, and they began to talk of really important things, such as the dragon and the prince. And all the time Elphin did not know that this was the princess. He knew that she had a heart of gold, and he told her so many times. The mistake, said Elphin, was in not having a dragon proof bottle. I see that now. Oh, is that all? said the princess. I can easily get you one of those, because everything in my tower is dragon proof. We ought to do something to settle the dragon and save the little children. She started off to get the bottle, but she would not let Elphin come with her. If what you say is true, she said, if you are sure that I have a heart of gold, the dragon won't hurt me, and somebody must stay with the pigs. Elphin was quite sure, so he let her go. She found the door of her tower open. The dragon had waited patiently for the prince, and the moment he opened the door and came out, he was only out for an instant to post a letter to his prime minister saying where he was and asking them to send the fire brigade to deal with the fiery dragon. The dragon ate him. Then the dragon went back to the wood because it was getting near his time to grow small for the night. So Sabranetto went in and kissed her nurse and made her a cup of tea and explained what was going to happen, and that she had a heart of gold so the dragon couldn't eat her. And the nurse saw that, of course, the princess was quite safe and kissed her and let her go. She took the dragon-proof bottle made of burnished brass and ran back to the wood and to the dell where Elphin was sitting among his sleek black pigs waiting for her. I thought you were never coming back, he said. You have been away a year at least. The princess sat down beside him among the pigs and they held each other's hands till it was dark, and then the dragon came crawling over the moss, scorching it as he came and getting smaller as he crawled and curled up under the root of the tree. Now then, said Elphin, you hold the bottle. Then he poked and prodded the dragon with bits of stick till it crawled into the dragon-proof bottle, but there was no stopper. Never mind, said Elphin. I'll put my finger in for a stopper. No, let me, said the princess. But, of course, Elphin would not let her. He stuffed his finger into the top of the bottle and the princess cried out, The sea, the sea, run for the cliffs! And off they went with the five and seventy pigs trotting steadily after them in a long black procession. The bottle got hotter and hotter in Elphin's hands, because the dragon inside was puffing fire and smoke with all his might. Hotter and hotter and hotter. But Elphin held on till they came to the cliff edge, and there was the dark blue sea and the whirlpool going around and around. Elphin lifted the bottle high above his head and hurled it out between the stars and the sea, and it fell in the middle of the whirlpool. We saved the country, said the princess. You've saved the little children. Give me your hands. I can't, said Elphin. I shall never be able to take your dear hands again. My hands are burnt off. And so they were. There were only black cinders where his hands ought to have been. The princess kissed them and cried over them and tore pieces of her silky milky gown to tie them up with. And the two went back to the tower and told the nurse all about everything, and the pigs sat outside and waited. He is the bravest man in the world, said Sabranetto. He has saved the country and the little children, but oh, his hands, his poor, dear, darling hands. Here the door of the room opened and the oldest of the five and seventy pigs came in. It went up to Elphin and rubbed itself against him with little loving grunts. See the dear creature, said the nurse, wiping away a tear. It knows, it knows. Sabranetto stroked the pig because Elphin had no hands for stroking or for anything else. The only cure for a dragon burn, said the old nurse, is Pig's fat, and while that faithful creature knows it. I wouldn't for a kingdom, cried Elphin, stroking the pig as best he could with his elbow. Is there no other cure? asked the princess. Here another pig put its black nose in at the door, and then another and another, till the room was full of pigs, pushing mass of rounded blackness, pushing and struggling to get it Elphin, and grunting softly in the language of true affection. There is one other, said the nurse. The dear affectionate beasts, they all want to die for you. What is the other cure? said Sabranetto anxiously. If a man is burnt by a dragon, said the nurse, and a certain number of people are willing to die for him, it is enough if each should kiss the burn and wish it well in the depths of his loving heart. The number, the number, cried Sabranetto. Seventy-seven, said the nurse. We have only seventy-five pigs, said the princess, and with me that's seventy-six. It must be seventy-seven, and I really can't die for him, so nothing can be done, said the nurse sadly. He must have cork hands. I knew about the seventy-seven loving people, said Elphin. But I never thought my dear pigs loved me so much as all this, and my dear too. And of course that only makes it more impossible. There's one other charm that cures dragon burns though, but I'd rather be burnt black all over than marry anyone but you, my dear, my pretty. Why, who must you marry to cure your dragon burns? asked Sabranetto. A princess, that's how St. George cured his burns. There now, think of that, said the nurse, and I never heard tell of that cure, old as I am. But Sabranetto threw her arms round Elphin's neck and held him as though she would never let him go. Then it's all right, my dear, brave, precious Elphin, she cried, for I am a princess, and you shall be my prince. Come along, nurse, don't wait to put on your bonnet. We'll go and be married this very moment. So they went, and the pigs came after, moving in stately blackness, two by two. And the minute he was married to the princess, Elphin's hands got quite well. And the people who were weary of Prince Tiresome and his hippopotamuses, hailed Sabranetto and her husband, is rightful sovereigns of the land. Next morning the prince and princess went out to see if the dragon had been washed ashore. They could see nothing of him, but when they looked out toward the whirlpool they saw a cloud of steam, and the fisherman recorded that the water for miles around was hot enough to shave with. And as the water is hot there to this day, we may feel pretty sure that the fierceness of that dragon was such that all the waters of all the sea were not enough to cool him. The whirlpool is too strong for him to be able to get out of it, so there he spins around and around, forever and ever, doing some useful work at last, and warming the water for poor fisherfault to shave with. The prince and princess rule the land well and wisely. The nurse lives with them and does nothing but find sowing, and only that when she wants to very much. The prince keeps no hippopotamuses, and is consequently very popular. The five and seventy devoted pigs live in white marble sties with brass knockers and pig on the door plate, and are washed twice a day with Turkish sponges and soap scented with violets. And no one objects to their following the prince when he walks abroad, for they behave beautifully and always keep to the footpath and obey the notices about not walking on the grass. The princess feeds them every day with her own hands, and her first edict on coming to the throne was that the word pork should never be uttered on pain of death and should, besides, be scratched out of all the dictionaries. End of Chapter 7 Chapter 8 of The Book of Dragons This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by Laurie Ann Walden. The Book of Dragons by Edith Nesbitt. Chapter 8. Kind Little Edmund or The Caves and the Cockatrice Edmund was a boy. The people who did not like him said that he was the most tiresome boy that ever lived. But his grandmother and his other friends said that he had an inquiring mind. And his granny often added that he was the best of boys. But she was very kind and very old. Edmund loved to find out about things. Perhaps you will think that in that case he was constant in his attendance at school. Since there, if anywhere, we may learn whatever there is to be learned. But Edmund did not want to learn things. He wanted to find things out, which is quite different. His inquiring mind led him to take clocks to pieces to see what made them go. To take locks off doors to see what made them stick. It was Edmund who cut open the India rubber ball to see what made it bounce. And he never did see any more than you did when you tried the same experiment. Edmund lived with his grandmother. She loved him very much in spite of his inquiring mind and hardly scolded him at all when he frizzled up her tortoise shell comb in his anxiety to find out whether it was made of real tortoise shell or of something that would burn. Edmund went to school, of course, now and then. And sometimes he could not prevent himself from learning something, but he never did it on purpose. It is such waste of time, said he. They only know what everybody knows. I want to find out new things that nobody has thought of but me. I don't think you're likely to find out anything that none of the wise men in the whole world have thought of all these thousands of years, said Granny. But Edmund did not agree with her. He played truant whenever he could, for he was a kind-hearted boy and could not bear to think of a master's time and labour being thrown away on a boy like himself who did not wish to learn only to find out. When there were so many worthy lads thirsting for instruction in geography and history and reading and ciphering and Mr. Smiles's self-help. Other boys played truant, too, of course. And these went nutting or blackberrying or wild plum-gathering. But Edmund never went on the side of the town where the green woods and hedges grew. He always went up the mountain where the great rocks were and the tall dark pine trees and where other people were afraid to go because of the strange noises that came out of the caves. Edmund was not afraid of these noises, though they were very strange and terrible. He wanted to find out what made them. One day he did. He had invented, all by himself, a very ingenious and new kind of lantern made with a turnip and a tumbler. And when he took the candle out of Granny's bedroom candlestick to put in it, it gave quite a splendid light. He had to go to school next day and he was caned for being absent without leave. Although he very straightforwardly explained that he had been too busy making the lantern to have time to come to school. But the day after he got up very early and took the lunch Granny had ready for him to take to school, two boiled eggs and an apple turnover. And he took his lantern and went off as straight as a dart to the mountains to explore the caves. The caves were very dark, but his lantern lighted them up beautifully. And they were most interesting caves with stalactites and stalagmites and fossils and all the things you read about in the instructive books for the young. But Edmund did not care for any of these things just then. He wanted to find out what made the noises that people were afraid of and there was nothing in the caves to tell him. Presently he sat down in the biggest cave and listened very carefully. And it seemed to him that he could distinguish three different sorts of noises. There was a heavy rumbling sound like a very large old gentleman asleep after dinner. And there was a smaller sort of rumble going on at the same time. And there was a sort of crowing, clucking sound, such as a chicken might make if it happened to be as big as a haystack. It seems to me, said Edmund to himself, that the clucking is nearer than the others. So he started up again with the caves once more. He found out nothing, but about halfway up the wall of the cave he saw a hole. And being a boy he climbed up to it and crept in, and it was the entrance to a rocky passage. And now the clucking sounded more plainly than before and he could hardly hear the rumbling at all. I am going to find out something at last, said Edmund, and on he went. The passage wound and twisted and twisted and turned and turned and wound, but Edmund kept on. My lanterns burning better and better, said he presently, but the next minute he saw that all the light did not come from his lantern. It was a pale yellow light and it shone down the passage far ahead of him through what looked like the chink of a door. I expect it's the fire in the middle of the earth, said Edmund, who had not been able to help learning about that at school. But quite suddenly the fire ahead gave a pale flicker and went down and the clucking ceased. The next moment Edmund turned a corner and found himself in front of a rocky door. The door was ajar. He went in and there was a round cave like the Dome of St. Paul's. In the middle of the cave was a hole like a very big hand-washing basin. And in the middle of the basin Edmund saw a large pale person sitting. This person had a man's face and a griffon's body with big feathery wings and a snake's tail and a cox comb and neck feathers. Whatever are you, said Edmund. I'm a poor, starving cockatrice, answered the pale person in a very faint voice. And I shall die. Oh, I know I shall. My fire's gone out. I can't think how it happened. I must have been asleep. I have to stir it seven times round with my tail a hundred years to keep it alight. And my watch must have been wrong. And now I shall die. I think I have said before what a kind-hearted boy Edmund was. Cheer up, said he. I'll light your fire for you. And off he went and in a few minutes he came back with a great armful of sticks from the pine trees outside and with these and a lesson book or two that he had forgotten to lose before and which quite by an oversight were safe in his pocket he lit a fire all around the cockatrice. The wood blazed up and presently something in the basin caught fire and Edmund saw that it was a sort of liquid that burned like the brandy in a snap-dragon. And now the cockatrice stirred it with his tail and flapped his wings in it so that some of it splashed out on Edmund's hand and burnt it rather badly. But the cockatrice grew red and strong and happy and its comb grew scarlet and its feathers glossy and it lifted itself up and crowed cockatrice-a-doodle-doo very loudly and clearly. Edmund's kindly nature was charmed to see the cockatrice so much improved in health and he said don't mention it, delighted I'm sure when the cockatrice began to thank him. But what can I do for you? said the creature. Tell me stories. said Edmund. What about? said the cockatrice. About true things that they don't know at school. said Edmund. So the cockatrice began and he told him about minds and treasures and geological formations and about gnomes and fairies and dragons and about glaciers and the stone age and the beginning of the world and about the unicorn and the phoenix and about magic, black and white. And Edmund ate his eggs and his turnover and listened. And when he got hungry again he said good-bye and went home. But he came again the next day for more stories and the next day and the next for a long time. He told the boys at school about the cockatrice in his wonderful true tales and the boys liked the stories but when he told the master he was caned for untruthfulness. But it's true, said Edmund. Just you look where the fire burnt my hand. I see you've been playing with fire and into mischief as usual, said the master and he caned Edmund harder than ever. The master was ignorant and unbelieving but I am told that some school masters are not like that. Now one day Edmund made a new lantern out of something chemical that he sneaked from the school laboratory and with it he went exploring again to see if he could find the things that made the other sorts of noises and in quite another part of the mountain he found a dark passage with brass so that it was like the inside of a huge telescope and at the very end of it he found a bright green door. There was a brass plate on the door that said Mrs. D. knock and ring and a white label that said call me at three. Edmund had a watch. It had been given to him on his birthday two days before and he had not yet had time to take it to pieces to see what made it go so it was still going. Now it said a quarter to three. Did I tell you before what a kind-hearted boy Edmund was? He sat down on the brass doorstep and waited till three o'clock. Then he knocked and rang and there was a rattling and puffing inside. The great door flew open and Edmund had only just time to hide behind it when out came an immense yellow dragon who wriggled off down the brass cave like a long rattling worm or perhaps more like a monstrous centipede. Edmund crept slowly out and saw the dragon stretching herself on the rocks in the sun and he crept past the great creature and tore down the hill into the town and burst into school crying out there's a great dragon coming somebody ought to do something or we shall all be destroyed. He was caned for untruthfulness without any delay. His master was never one for but it's true said Edmund you just see if it isn't. He pointed out of the window and everyone could see a vast yellow cloud rising up into the air above the mountain. It's only a thundershower said the master and caned Edmund more than ever. The master was not like some masters I know. He was very obstinate and would not believe his own eyes if they told him anything different than what Edmund had been saying before his eyes spoke. So while the master was writing lying is very wrong and liars must be caned it is all for their own good. On the blackboard for Edmund to copy out seven hundred times Edmund sneaked out of school and ran for his life across the town to warn his granny but she was not at home. So then he made off through the back door of the town and raced up the hill to tell the cockatrice and asked for his help. It never occurred to him that the cockatrice might not believe him. You see he had heard so many wonderful tales from him and had believed them all and when you believe all a person's stories they ought to believe yours. This is only fair. At the mouth of the cockatrice's cave Edmund stopped very much out of breath to look back at the town. As he ran he had felt his little legs tremble and shake while the shadows of the great yellow cloud fell upon him. Now he stood once more between warm earth and blue sky and looked down on the green plain dotted with fruit trees and red-roofed farms and plots of gold corn. In the middle of that plain the grey town lay with its strong walls with the holes pierced for the archers and its square towers with holes for dropping melted lead on the heads of strangers its bridges and its steeples the quiet river edged with willow and alder and the pleasant green garden-place in the middle of the town where people sat on holidays to smoke their pipes and listen to the band. Edmund saw it all and he saw two creeping across the plain marking her way by a black line as everything withered at her touch the great yellow dragon and he saw that she was many times bigger than the whole town. Oh my poor dear Granny said Edmund he had a feeling heart as I ought to have told you before. The yellow dragon crept nearer and nearer licking her greedy lips with her long red tongue and Edmund knew that in the school his master was still teaching earnestly and still not believing Edmund's tale the least little bit. He'll jolly well have to believe it soon anyhow said Edmund to himself and though he was a very tender hearted boy I think it only fair to tell you that he was this I am afraid he was not as sorry as he ought to have been to think of the way in which his master was going to learn how to believe what Edmund said. Then the dragon opened her jaws wider and wider and wider. Edmund shut his eyes for though his master was in the town the amiable Edmund shrank from beholding the awful sight. When he opened his eyes again there was no town only a bare place where it had stood and the dragon licking her lips and curling herself up to go to sleep just as Kitty does when she has quite finished with a mouse. Edmund gassed once or twice and then ran into the cave to tell the cockatrice. Well, said the cockatrice thoughtfully when the tale had been told what then? I don't think you quite understand said Edmund gently the dragon has swallowed up the town does it matter? said the cockatrice but I live there said Edmund blankly never mind said the cockatrice turning over in the pool of fire to warm its other side which was chilly because Edmund had as usual forgotten to close the cave door you can live here with me I'm afraid I haven't made my meaning clear said Edmund patiently you see my granny is in the town I can't bear to lose my granny like this I don't know what a granny may be said the cockatrice who seemed to be growing weary of the subject but if it's a possession to which you attach any importance of course it is said Edmund losing patience at last oh do help me what can I do if I were you said his friend stretching itself out in the pool of flame so that the waves covered him up to his chin I should find the drackling and bring it here but why said Edmund he had gotten into the habit of asking why at school and the master had always found it trying as for the cockatrice he was not going to stand that sort of thing for a moment oh don't talk to me he said splashing angrily in the flames I give you advice take it or leave it I shan't bother about you anymore if you bring the drackling here to me I'll tell you what to do next if not not and the cockatrice drew the fire up close around his shoulders tucked himself up in it and went to sleep now this was exactly the right way to manage Edmund only no one had ever thought of trying to do it before he stood for a moment looking at the cockatrice the cockatrice looked at Edmund out of the corner of his eye and began to snore very loudly and Edmund understood once and for all the cockatrice wasn't going to put up with any nonsense he respected the cockatrice very much from that moment and set off at once to do exactly as he was told for perhaps the first time in his life though he had played truant so often he knew one or two things that perhaps you don't know though you have always been so good and gone to school regularly for instance he knew that a drackling is a dragon's baby he felt sure that what he had to do was to find the third of the three noises that people used to hear coming from the mountains of course the clocking had been the cockatrice and the big noise like a large gentleman asleep after dinner had been the big dragon so the smaller rumbling must have been the drackling he plunged boldly into the caves and searched and wandered and wandered and searched and at last he came to a third door in the mountain and on it was written, the baby is asleep just before the door stood fifty pairs of copper shoes and no one could have looked at them for a moment without seeing what sort of feet they were made for for each shoe had five holes in it for the drackling's five claws and there were fifty pairs because the drackling took after his mother and had a hundred feet no more and no less he was the kind called Draco Sintipetus in the learned books Edmund was a good deal frightened but he remembered the grim expression of the cockatrice's eye and the fixed determination of his snore still rang in his ears in spite of the snoring of the drackling which was in itself considerable he screwed up his courage, flung the door open and called out, hello you drackling get out of bed this minute the drackling stopped snoring and said sleepily it ain't time yet your mother says you are too anyhow and look sharp about it what's more said Edmund, gaining courage from the fact that the drackling had not yet eaten him the drackling sighed and Edmund could hear it getting out of bed the next moment it began to come out of its room and to put on its shoes it was not nearly so big as its mother only about the size of a Baptist's chapel hurry up, said Edmund as it fumbled clumsily with the seventeenth shoe mother said I was never to go out without my shoes said the drackling so Edmund had to help it to put them on it took some time and was not a comfortable occupation at last the drackling said it was ready and Edmund who had forgotten to be frightened said come on then and they went back to the cockatrice the cave was rather narrow for the drackling but it made itself thin as you may see a fat worm do when it wants to get through a narrow crack in a piece of hard earth here it is, said Edmund and the cockatrice woke up at once and asked the drackling very politely to sit down and wait your mother will be here presently said the cockatrice, stirring up its fire the drackling sat down and waited but it watched the fire with hungry eyes I beg your pardon, it said at last but I am always accustomed to having a little basin of fire as soon as I get up and I feel rather faint, might I? it reached out a claw toward the cockatrice's basin certainly not, said the cockatrice sharply where were you brought up? did they never teach you that we must not ask for all we see, eh? I beg your pardon, said the drackling humbly but I am really very hungry the cockatrice beckoned Edmund to the side of the basin and whispered in his ear so long and so earnestly that one side of the deer boy's hair was quite burnt off and he never once interrupted the cockatrice to ask why but when the whispering was over Edmund, whose heart as I may have mentioned was very tender, said to the drackling if you are really hungry poor thing I can show you where there is plenty of fire and off he went through the caves and the drackling followed when Edmund came to the proper place he stopped there was a round iron thing in the floor like the ones the men shoot the coals down into your cellar only much larger Edmund heaped it up by a hook that stuck out at one side and a rush of hot air came up that nearly choked him but the drackling came close and looked down with one eye and sniffed and said that smells good eh yes said Edmund well that's the fire in the middle of the earth there's plenty of it all done to a turn you'd better go down and begin your breakfast hadn't you so the drackling wriggled through the hole and began to crawl faster and faster down the slanting shaft that leads to the fire in the middle of the earth and Edmund doing exactly as he had been told for a wonder caught the end of the drackling's tail and ran the iron hook through it so that the drackling was held fast and it could not turn around and wriggle up again to look after its poor tail because as everyone knows the way to the fires below is very easy to go down but quite impossible to come back on there is something about it in Latin beginning facilis descensis so there was the drackling fast by the silly tail of it and there was Edmund very busy and important and very pleased with himself hurrying back to the cockatrice now said he well now said the cockatrice go to the mouth of the cave and laugh at the dragon so that she hears you Edmund very nearly said why but he stopped in time and instead said she won't hear me oh very well said the cockatrice no doubt you know best and he began to tuck himself up again in the fire so Edmund did as he was bid and when he began to laugh his laughter echoed in the mouth of the cave till it sounded like the laughter of a whole castle full of giants and the dragon lying asleep in the sun woke up and said very crossly what are you laughing at at you said Edmund and went on laughing the dragon bore it as long as she could but like everyone else she couldn't stand being made fun of so presently she dragged herself up the mountain very slowly because she had just had a rather heavy meal and stood outside and said what are you laughing at in a voice that made Edmund feel as if he should never laugh again then the good cockatrice called out at you you've eaten your own drackling you swallowed it with the town your own little drackling he he he ha ha ha and Edmund found the courage to cry ha ha which sounded like tremendous laughter in the echo of the cave dear me said the dragon I thought the town stuck in my throat rather I must take it out and look through it more carefully and with that she coughed and choked and there was the town on the hillside Edmund had run back to the cockatrice and it had told him what to do so before the dragon had time to look through the town again for her drackling the voice of the drackling itself was heard howling miserably from inside the mountain because Edmund was pinching its tail as hard as he could in the round iron door like the one where the men pour the coals out of the sacks into the cellar and the dragon heard the voice and said why whatever's the matter with baby he's not here and made herself thin and crept into the mountain to find her drackling the cockatrice kept on laughing as loud as it could and Edmund kept on pinching and presently the great dragon very long and narrow she had made herself found her head where the round hole was with the iron lid her tail was a mile or two off outside the mountain when Edmund heard her coming he gave one last nip to the drackling's tail then heaved up the lid and stood behind it so that the dragon could not see him then he loosed the drackling's tail from the hook and the dragon peeped down the hole just in time to see her drackling's tail disappear down the smooth slanting shaft with one last squeak of pain whatever may have been the poor dragon's other faults she was an excellent mother she plunged head first into the hole and slid down the shaft after her baby Edmund watched her head go and then the rest stopped her she was so long now she had stretched herself thin that it took all night it was like watching a goods train go by in Germany when the last joint of her tail had gone Edmund slammed down the iron door he was a kind-hearted boy as you have guessed and he was glad to think that dragon and drackling would now have plenty to eat of their favorite food forever and ever he thanked the cockatrice for his kindness and got home just in time to have breakfast and get to school by nine of course he could not have done this if the town had been in its old place by the river in the middle of the plain but it had taken root on the hillside just where the dragon left it well said the master where were you yesterday Edmund explained and the master at once caned him for not speaking the truth but it is true said Edmund why the whole town was swallowed by the dragon you know it was nonsense said the master there was a thunderstorm and an earthquake that's all and he caned Edmund more than ever but said Edmund who always would argue even in the least favorable circumstances how do you account for the town being on the hillside now instead of by the river as it used to be it was always on the hillside said the master and all the class said the same for they had more sense than to argue with the person who carried a cane but look at the maps said Edmund who wasn't going to be beaten in argument whatever he might be in the flesh the master pointed to the map on the wall there was the town on the hillside and nobody but Edmund could see that of course the shock of being swallowed by the dragon had upset all the maps and put them wrong and then the master caned Edmund again explaining that this time it was not for untruthfulness but for his vexatious argumentative habits this will show you what a prejudiced and ignorant man Edmund's master was how different from the revered head of the nice school where your good parents are kind enough to send you the next day Edmund thought he would prove his tale by showing people the cockatrice and he actually persuaded some people to go into the cave with him but the cockatrice had bolted himself in and would not open the door so Edmund got nothing by that for taking people on a wild goose chase a wild goose, said they, is nothing like a cockatrice and poor Edmund could not say a word though he knew how wrong they were the only person who believed him was his granny but then she was very old and very kind and had always said he was the best of boys only one good thing came of all this long story Edmund has never been quite the same boy since he does not argue quite so much and he agreed to be apprentice to a locksmith so that he might one day be able to pick the lock of the cockatrice's front door and learn some more of the things that other people don't know but he is quite an old man now and he hasn't gotten that door open yet