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ATthatverymomenttheotherswerewashinghandsandfacesintheriverandgenerallygettingreadyfordinnerandarest.Thethreebestarchershadgoneupintothehillsnorthofthebayandreturnedladenwithapairofwildgoatswhichwerenowroastingoverafire.Caspianhadorderedacaskofwineashore,strongwineofArchenlandwhichhadtobemixedwithwaterbeforeyoudrankit,sotherewouldbeplentyforall.Theworkhadgonewellsofaranditwasamerrymeal.OnlyafterthesecondhelpingofgoatdidEdmundsay,“Where’sthatblighterEustace?”
MeanwhileEustacestaredroundtheunknownvalley.Itwassonarrowanddeep,andtheprecipiceswhichsurroundeditsosheer,thatitwaslikeahugepitortrench.Thefloorwasgrassythoughstrewnwithrocks,andhereandthereEustacesawblackburntpatcheslikethoseyouseeonthesidesofarailwayembankmentinadrysummer.Aboutfifteenyardsawayfromhimwasapoolofclear,smoothwater.Therewas,atfirst,nothing elseatallinthevalley;notananimal,notabird,notaninsect.Thesunbeatdownandgrimpeaksandhornsofmountainspeeredoverthevalley’sedge.
Eustacerealizedofcoursethatinthefoghehadcomedownthewrongsideoftheridge,soheturnedatoncetoseeaboutgettingback.Butassoonashehadlookedheshuddered.Apparentlyhehadbyamazingluckfoundtheonlypossiblewaydown—alonggreenspitofland,horriblysteepandnarrow,withprecipicesoneitherside.Therewasnootherpossiblewayofgettingback.Butcouldhedoit,nowthathesawwhatitwasreallylike?Hisheadswamattheverythoughtofit.
Heturnedroundagain,thinkingthatatanyratehe’dbetterhaveagooddrinkfromthepoolfirst.Butassoonashehadturnedandbeforehehadtakenastepforwardintothevalleyheheardanoisebehindhim.Itwasonlyasmallnoisebutitsoundedloudinthatimmensesilence.Itfrozehimdead-stillwherehestoodforasecond.Thenheslewedroundhisneckandlooked.
Atthebottomofthecliffalittleonhislefthandwasalow,darkhole—theentrancetoacaveperhaps.Andoutofthistwothinwispsofsmokewerecoming.Andtheloosestonesjustbeneaththedarkhollowweremoving(thatwasthenoisehehadheard)justasifsomethingwerecrawlinginthedarkbehindthem.
Somethingwascrawling.Worsestill,somethingwascomingout.EdmundorLucyoryouwouldhaverecognizeditatonce,butEustacehadreadnoneoftherightbooks.Thethingthatcameoutofthecavewassomethinghehadneverevenimagined—along lead-colouredsnout,dullredeyes,nofeathersorfur,alonglithebodythattrailedontheground,legswhoseelbowswentuphigherthanitsbacklikeaspider’scruelclaws,bat’swingsthatmadearaspingnoiseonthestones,yardsoftail.Andthelinesofsmokewerecomingfromitstwonostrils.HeneversaidthewordDragontohimself.Norwouldithavemadethingsanybetterifhehad.
Butperhapsifhehadknownsomethingaboutdragonshewouldhavebeenalittlesurprisedatthisdragon’sbehaviour.Itdidnotsitupandclapitswings,nordiditshootoutastreamofflamefromitsmouth.Thesmokefromitsnostrilswaslikethesmokeofafirethatwillnotlastmuchlonger.NordiditseemtohavenoticedEustace.Itmovedveryslowlytowardsthepool—slowlyandwithmanypauses.EveninhisfearEustacefeltthatitwasanold,sadcreature.Hewonderedifhedaredmakeadashfortheascent.Butitmightlookroundifhemadeanynoise.Itmightcomemoretolife.Perhapsitwasonlyshamming.Anyway,whatwastheuseoftryingtoescapebyclimbingfromacreaturethatcouldfly?
Itreachedthepoolandsliditshorriblescalychindownoverthegraveltodrink:butbeforeithaddrunktherecamefromitagreatcroakingorclangingcryandafterafewtwitchesandconvulsionsitrolledroundonitssideandlayperfectlystillwithoneclawintheair.Alittledarkbloodgushedfromitswide-openedmouth.Thesmokefromitsnostrilsturnedblackforamomentandthenfloatedaway.Nomorecame.
ForalongtimeEustacedidnotdaretomove.Perhapsthiswasthebrute’strick,thewayitluredtravellerstotheirdoom.Butonecouldn’twaitforever.Hetookastepnearer,thentwosteps,andhaltedagain.Thedragonremainedmotionless;henoticedtoothattheredfirehadgoneoutofitseyes.Atlasthecameuptoit.Hewasquitesurenowthatitwasdead.Withashudderhetouchedit;nothinghappened.
ThereliefwassogreatthatEustacealmostlaughedoutloud.Hebegantofeelasifhehadfoughtandkilledthedragoninsteadofmerelyseeingitdie.Hesteppedoveritandwenttothepoolforhisdrink,fortheheatwasgettingunbearable.Hewasnotsurprisedwhenheheardapealofthunder.Almostimmediatelyafterwardsthesundisappearedandbeforehehadfinishedhisdrinkbigdropsofrainwerefalling.
Theclimateofthisislandwasaveryunpleasantone.InlessthanaminuteEustacewaswettotheskinandhalfblindedwithsuchrainasoneneverseesinEurope.Therewasnousetryingtoclimboutofthevalleyaslongasthislasted.Heboltedfortheonlyshelterinsight—thedragon’scave.Therehelaydownandtriedtogethisbreath.
Mostofusknowwhatweshouldexpecttofindinadragon’slair,but,asIsaidbefore,Eustacehadreadonlythewrongbooks.Theyhadalottosayaboutexportsandimportsandgovernmentsanddrains,buttheywereweakondragons.Thatiswhyhewassopuzzledatthesurfaceonwhichhewaslying.Partsofitweretoopricklytobestonesandtoohardtobethorns,andthereseemedtobeagreatmanyround,flatthings,anditallclinkedwhenhe moved.Therewaslightenoughatthecave’smouthtoexamineitby.AndofcourseEustacefoundittobewhatanyofuscouldhavetoldhiminadvance—treasure.Therewerecrowns(thosewerethepricklythings),coins,rings,bracelets,ingots,cups,platesandgems.
Eustace(unlikemostboys)hadneverthoughtmuchoftreasurebuthesawatoncetheuseitwouldbeinthisnewworldwhichhehadsofoolishlystumbledintothroughthepictureinLucy’sbedroomathome.“Theydon’thaveanytaxhere,”hesaid,“andyoudon’thavetogivetreasuretothegovernment.WithsomeofthisstuffIcouldhavequiteadecenttimehere—perhapsinCalormen.Itsoundstheleastphoneyofthesecountries.IwonderhowmuchIcancarry?Thatbraceletnow—thosethingsinitareprobablydiamonds—I’llslipthatonmyownwrist.Toobig,butnotifIpushitrightuphereabovemyelbow.Thenfillmypocketswithdiamonds—that’seasierthangold.Iwonderwhenthisinfernalrain’sgoingtoletup?”Hegotintoalessuncomfortablepartofthepile,whereitwasmostlycoins,andsettleddowntowait.Butabadfright,whenonceitisover,andespeciallyabadfrightfollowingamountainwalk,leavesyouverytired.Eustacefellasleep.
Bythetimehewassoundasleepandsnoringtheothershadfinisheddinnerandbecameseriouslyalarmedabouthim.Theyshouted,“Eustace!Eustace!Coo-ee!”tilltheywerehoarseandCaspianblewhishorn.
“He’snowherenearorhe’dhaveheardthat,”saidLucywithawhiteface.
“Confoundthefellow,”saidEdmund.“Whatonearthdidhewanttoslinkawaylikethisfor?”
“Butwemustdosomething,”saidLucy.“Hemayhavegotlost,orfallenintoahole,orbeencapturedbysavages.”
“Orkilledbywildbeasts,”saidDrinian.
“Andagoodriddanceifhehas,Isay,”mutteredRhince.
“MasterRhince,”saidReepicheep,“youneverspokeawordthatbecameyouless.ThecreatureisnofriendofminebutheisoftheQueen’sblood,andwhileheisoneofourfellowshipitconcernsourhonourtofindhimandtoavengehimifheisdead.”
“Ofcoursewe’vegottofindhim(ifwecan),”saidCaspianwearily.“That’sthenuisanceofit.Itmeansasearchpartyandendlesstrouble.BotherEustace.”
MeanwhileEustacesleptandslept—andslept.Whatwokehimwasapaininhisarm.Themoonwasshininginatthemouthofthecave,andthebedoftreasuresseemedtohavegrownmuchmorecomfortable:infacthecouldhardlyfeelitatall.Hewaspuzzledbythepaininhisarmatfirst,butpresentlyitoccurredtohimthatthebraceletwhichhehadshovedupabovehiselbowhadbecomestrangelytight.Hisarmmusthaveswollenwhilehewasasleep(itwashisleftarm).
Hemovedhisrightarminordertofeelhisleft,butstoppedbeforehehadmoveditaninchandbithislipinterror.Forjustinfrontofhim,andalittleonhisright,wherethemoonlightfellclearonthefloorofthecave,hesawahideousshapemoving.
Heknewthatshape:itwasadragon’sclaw.Ithadmovedashemovedhishandandbecamestillwhenhestoppedmovinghishand.
“Oh,whatafoolI’vebeen,”thoughtEustace.“Ofcourse,thebrutehadamateandit’slyingbesideme.”
Forseveralminuteshedidnotdaretomoveamuscle.Hesawtwothincolumnsofsmokegoingupbeforehiseyes,blackagainstthemoonlight;justastherehadbeensmokecomingfromtheotherdragon’snosebeforeitdied.Thiswassoalarmingthatheheldhisbreath.Thetwocolumnsofsmokevanished.Whenhecouldholdhisbreathnolongerheletitoutstealthily;instantlytwojetsofsmokeappearedagain.Butevenyethehadnoideaofthetruth.
Presentlyhedecidedthathewouldedgeverycautiouslytohisleftandtrytocreepoutofthecave.Perhapsthecreaturewasasleep—andanywayitwashisonlychance.Butofcoursebeforeheedgedtothelefthelookedtotheleft.Ohhorror!Therewasadragon’sclawonthatsidetoo.
NoonewillblameEustaceifatthismomentheshedtears.Hewassurprisedatthesizeofhisowntearsashesawthemsplashingontothetreasureinfrontofhim.Theyalsoseemedstrangelyhot;steamwentupfromthem.
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