“I think I could have walked with more confidence, but on hands and knees, it was ghastly. I could put my hands out without difficulty, but the fear sent a spasm into my knees so that it was hard to move them. Still, foot by foot, ever hearing that malignant whine grow closer, I groped my way through the opening. It was only fifty feet long, but it seemed interminable. At last I saw the light and, with a huge sense of relief, leaped from the narrow tunnel into the cave itself.
“I leaped almost into the monster’s jaws. For, facing the mouth of the tunnel, not six paces away, was the dragon, growling and snapping, while every few seconds he followed the clash of the gnashing teeth with that long whining snarl that had so scared me during that endless crawl in the dark.”
“What did he look like, Father?”
“In the half-dusk of the cave he looked fearful! In my excitement he looked every inch a dragon. The front part of him was like a wolverine, and his body all glittered with silver scales. Behind him he dragged a thick tail, something like an alligator’s, only round, all covered with shiny scales.”
“How about the fire-breathing business?”
“I didn’t stop to notice. I was too excited and too frightened to bother myself with thinking what breed of dragon he was. I aimed the old pistol and fired. The ‘kick’ of it nearly broke my wrist. At the same instant, the dragon lifted himself heavily, dragging his hinder part, and launched full at me. I shrank back, flat against the wall of the cave, and his spring fell short. The hot froth and blood on his fangs slathered on my coat, and I knew that the monster was badly hurt. There was little room to dodge in that cave, but I jumped sideways.
“He turned jerkily, and I saw that his huge tail was injured. For the first time, my spirits rose. It was his tail I had feared. I had been afraid that he would lash out with it, crushing me to pieces. If, however, he were already hurt, I might be able to dodge about him, and get the best of him yet. But he could move quicker than I thought.
“Before I realized it, he was on me. Again he sprang, with that curious dragging of his hinder parts as though they were paralyzed. I had no room to dodge away, for the wall of the cave was behind me. In desperation, I pulled out my bowie knife. Before I could lunge, however, a paw with curved claws like Turkish daggers flashed out and laid my left arm open to the bone.
“Reeling from pain and the loss of blood, I struck forward with the knife. I hit some kind of a bone, I remember, then felt the curious sense of the blade piercing through living flesh. Again the monster reared. I swayed back, too far gone to move my feet, which seemed fastened to the floor of the cave. But as I stared, almost fascinated, into the green light of the creature’s eyes, I saw a glaze pass over them. He reared, wavered and fell over in a heap. Almost I collapsed upon him myself, but as I tottered, one of the fellows sprang out from the mouth of the cave and caught me. He snatched the bowie to give another blow, but the dragon never moved again. My knife had reached the heart.”