He almost laughed aloud as he saw the perplexity of the guards at the gate of the wall. They seemed uncertain whether to run as fast as they could or maintain their posts in shivering fright. At all costs they refused to allow Drawers to drag the beast into the city.
After some persuasion Drawers got them to contact Persum and arrange to have a wagon delivered outside the city.
During the interim the Griff began to revive. Finally it staggered weakly to its feet, a sick look in its eyes. At the sight of Drawers it bristled menacingly.
Drawers nonchalantly gave the animal a powerful kick in the ribs that sent it crashing to the ground.
It gained its feet again, and fumed with rage at its inability to use its well-tied jaws.
But Drawers did not let this bit of temperament deter him. He whacked the creature across the back with his fist. It sank to the ground again. A look of fear began to enter its eyes.
Within the next fifteen minutes Michel Drawers gave the animal the beating of his life. When he was through he untied the fastenings from around the creature's jaws, and waited, his fist held menacingly. The golden guards watching from the gate were stricken by the tenseness of the situation. For a moment the Griff looked at Drawers—then it cringed before him!
During the next week, thousands crammed the streets to watch a fierce-looking Griff, generation-old enemy of their race, proceeding docilely along the streets of the city, pulling enormous quantities of stone and other supplies with no sign of rebellion. Its once terrible teeth had been blunted and replaced by flat-headed golden caps. A little golden man sat unafraid upon its back directing it with deft prods of his feet. Man had again displayed his superiority over other forms of life.
Everywhere Michel Drawers went he was hailed with enthusiasm by the golden people. They gave elaborate balls in his honor—and watched with fascination as he disposed of helping after helping of the multiple types of tasty vegetables and exotic-flavored fruits which formed the bulk of their diet.
But in all truth Michel Drawers paid much more attention to the fascinating little golden woman who seemed perpetually at his side. "Trajores," she said was her name. And he escorted her proudly to the numerous balls and dinners; performed her every whim with celerity.