There was no need.
Courtesy of American Museum of Natural History.
Stegosaurus, the Super-Dreadnought of Old.
Huge armored monster of the reptile world, thirty-five feet long, as tall as a modern elephant to the top of the spines, protected by sharp horny plates against the attacks of flesh-eating giants.
Between him and the savage beast that had chased him for miles over the swamp stood an old battle-scarred Stegosaurus, fully twenty feet in length, its spines jutting into the air far above the boy’s head. As he looked, the armored tail, with its jagged, horny plates, lashed out at the unicorn and felled it to the ground. The beast half tried to rise and lunged its horn, white in the moonlight, at the throat of its terrible foe. But no weapon could pierce that living fortress of defense and the horn slipped uselessly over the scales.
The head of the Stegosaurus—so tiny for so great a bulk of body—bent as though to smell the wounded creature that the blow of his tail had crushed, but, not being an eater of flesh, the huge living fortress turned scornfully away.
Injured, but not mortally, the unicorn half rose, when Perry, seizing his chance, drew from his belt his hunting-knife and slit the creature’s throat.
Then, placing one foot on the body of the animal, he cried aloud—the faded green book fluttering from his lap as he sprang up—
“I’ve caught a unicorn!”