“‘Fear!’” cried Zovanin; “is Fear here at last?” and he joyfully ran to the side of the well.
All the weary, dying people raised themselves as well as they could, to see what should befall him who was not afraid of the terrible dragon.
But Fearless Johnny went up to the fountain’s brim to dip his hand into the cooling flood. Before he could do so, however, the terrible dragon put his head up through the midst, with a frightful howl, and spueing fire out of his nostrils. Zovanin, instead of drawing back, instantly took out his sword and, with one blow, severed the monster’s head from the trunk! Then all the people rushed to the fountain, hailing him as their deliverer. But ere they had slaked their thirst, the dragon, which had sunk back into the depth of the water, reappeared with a new head, already full grown, and more terrible than the last, for it not only spued out fire from its nostrils, but darted living sparks from its eyes.
When the people saw this they all ran away screaming, and Zovanin was left alone; but, as usual, he did not lose heart, and with another well-aimed blow sent the second head of the monster rolling by the side of the first!
The people came back, and began to drink again when they saw the huge trunk disappear beneath the surface; but it was not many minutes before another head cropped up, more terrible than either of the preceding, for it not only spued fire from its nostrils and darted living sparks from its eyes, but it had hair and mane of flames, which waved and rolled abroad, threatening all within reach. All the people fled at the sight, and Zovanin was once more left alone with the monster. Once more he severed the terrible head; and after this the dragon was seen no more.
“That must be very wonderful blood out of which three heads can spring,” thought Fearless Johnny; and he filled a vial with the dragon’s blood, and journeyed farther.
After a time he came to the outskirts of another town. It was not deserted like the last. The streets were full of people making merry—in fact, every one was so very merry that they seemed a whole community of madmen. Another might have been afraid to encounter them at all; but not so Fearless Johnny, he spurred his horse and rode right through their midst. But for all his seeming so fearless and self-possessed, the people got round him, and seized his horse’s bridle, and dragged him from the saddle.
“What do you want with me, good people?” cried Zovanin; “let me hear, before you pull me to pieces.”
When they found him so cool, spite of the wild way in which they had handled him, they began to respect him, and loosed their hold.
“If you want to know,” answered one, “it is soon told. We are all in this town wholly given up to amusement. We have done with work and toil, and do nothing but dance, and drink, and sing, and divert ourselves from morning to night. But after enjoying all this a long time, we begin to find it rather wearisome, and we are almost as tired of our pastime as we used to be of our labour. So the king has decreed that every stranger who comes by this way shall be caught, and required to find us a quite new diversion, and if he cannot do that, we will make him dance on red-hot stones, and flog him round the town, and get some fun out of him that way, at all events; as you don’t look very likely to find us a new pastime, we may as well begin with putting you on your death-dance.”