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diff --git a/75341-0.txt b/75341-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..edbd1c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/75341-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2139 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75341 *** + + +[Illustration: Thia and Thol--B.C. 39,000.] + + + + + THE + DREADFUL DRAGON + OF + HAY HILL + + MAX BEERBOHM + + [Illustration] + + LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN LTD. + + + + + _First published in “A Variety of Things”_ (_Volume ten + of the Limited Edition of Max Beerbohm’s Works_). + + _First published separately in book form, November, 1928._ + + _New impression, January, 1929._ + + _Printed in Great Britain_ + + + + +THE DREADFUL DRAGON OF HAY HILL + + +In the faint early dawn of a day in the midst of a golden summer, a +column of smoke was seen rising from Hay Hill, rising thickly, not +without sparks in it. Danger to the lives of the dressmakers in Dover +Street was not apprehended. The fire-brigade was not called out. The +fire-brigade had not been called into existence. Dover Street had not +yet been built. I tell of a time that was thirty-nine thousand years +before the birth of Christ. + +To imagine Hay Hill as it then was, you must forget much of what, +as you approach it from Berkeley Square or from Piccadilly, it is +now. You knew it in better days, as I did?--days when its seemly old +Georgian charm had not vanished under the superimposition of two vast +high barracks for the wealthier sort of bachelors to live in? You +remember how, in frosty weather, the horse of your hansom used to skate +hopelessly down the slope of it and collapse, pitching you out, at the +foot of it? Such memories will not serve. They are far too recent. You +must imagine just a green hill with some trees and bushes on it. You +must imagine it far higher than it is nowadays, tapering to a summit +not yet planed off for the purpose of Dover Street; and steeper; and +with two caves aloft in it; and bright, bright green. + +And conceive that its smiling wildness made no contrast with aught that +was around. Berkeley Square smiled wildly too. Berkeley Square had no +squareness. It was but a green valley that went, uninterrupted by any +Piccadilly, into the Green Park. And through the midst of it a clear +stream went babbling and meandering, making all manner of queer twists +and turns on its off-hand way to the marshlands of Pimlico down yonder. +Modern engineers have driven this stream ignominiously underground; but +at that time there it still was, visible, playful, fringed with reeds, +darted about in by small fishes, licensed to reflect sky. And it had +tributaries! The landscape that I speak of, the great rolling landscape +that comprised all Mayfair, was everywhere intersected by tiny brooks, +whose waters, for what they were worth, sooner or later trickled +brightly into that main stream. Here and there, quite fortuitously, +in groups or singly, stood willows and silver birches, full of that +wistful grace which we regard as peculiarly modern. But not till the +landscape reached Hyde Park did trees exert a strong influence over +it. Then they exerted a very strong influence indeed. They hemmed the +whole thing in. Hyde Park, which was a dense and immemorial forest, +did not pause where the Marble Arch is, but swept on to envelop all +Paddington and Marylebone and most of Bloomsbury, and then, skirting +Soho, over-ran everything from Covent Garden to Fetter Lane, and in +a rush southward was brought up sharp only by the edge of the sheer +cliffs that banked this part of the Thames. + +The Thames, wherever it was not thus sharply opposed, was as tyrannous +as the very forest. It knew no mercy for the lowly. Westminster, like +Pimlico, was a mere swamp, miasmal, malarial, frequented by frogs +only, whose croaks, no other sound intervening, made hideous to the +ear a district now nobly and forever resonant with the silver voices +of choristers and the golden voices of senators. Westminster is firm +underfoot nowadays; yet, even so, as you come away from it up the Duke +of York’s steps, you feel that you are mounting into a drier, brisker +air; and this sensation is powerfully repeated when anon you climb St. +James’s Street. Not lower, you feel, not lower than Piccadilly would +you have your home. And this, it would seem, was just what the average +man felt forty-one thousand years ago. Nature had placed in the steep +chalky slopes from the marshes a fair number of commodious caves; but +these were almost always vacant. Only on the higher levels did human +creatures abound. + +And scant enough, by our present standards, that abundance was. In +all the space which the forest had left free--not merely all Mayfair, +remember: all Soho, too, and all that lies between them--the +population was hardly more than three hundred souls. So low a figure +is hard to grasp. So few people, in a place so teeming now, are almost +beneath our notice. Almost, but not quite. What there was of them was +not bad. + +Nature, as a Roman truly said, does not work by leaps. What we call +Evolution is a quite exasperatingly slow process. We should like to +compare favourably with even the latest of our predecessors. We wince +whenever we read a declaration by some eminent biologist that the skull +of the prehistoric man whose bones have just been unearthed in this or +that district differs but slightly from the skull of the average man in +the twentieth century. I hate having to tell you that the persons in +this narrative had well-shaped heads, and that if their jaws were more +prominent, their teeth sharper, their backs less upright, their arms +longer and hairier, and their feet suppler than our own, the difference +in each case was so faint as to be almost negligible. + +Of course they were a simpler folk than we are. They knew far less than +we know. They did not, for example, know they were living thirty-nine +thousand years before Christ; and ‘protopalaeolithic’ was a term they +_never_ used. They regarded themselves as very modern and very greatly +enlightened. They marvelled at their ingenuities in the use of flint +and stone. They held that their ancestors had been crude in thought and +in mode of life, but not unblest with a certain vigour and nobility +of character which they themselves lacked. They thought that their +descendants would be a rather feeble, peevish race, yet that somehow in +the far future, a state of general goodness and felicity would set in, +to abide forever. But I seem to be failing in my effort to stress the +difference between these people and ourselves. Let us hold fast to the +pleasing fact that they really were less well-educated. + +They could neither read nor write, and were so weak in their arithmetic +that not a shepherd among them could count his sheep correctly, nor a +goat-herd his goats. And their pitiful geography! Glancing northward +above their forest, they saw the mountainous gaunt region that is +Hampstead, that is Highgate; southward, across the river and its wide +fens, the ridges of a nameless Surrey; but as to how the land lay +beyond those barriers they had only the haziest notion. That there was +land they knew. For, though they themselves never ventured further +than the edge of the marshes, or than the fringe of the tangled forest +that bounded the rest of their domain, certain other people were more +venturesome: often enough it would happen that some stranger, some +dark-haired and dark-eyed nomad, passed this way, blinking from the +forest or soaked from the river; and glad always was such an one to +rest awhile here, and tell to his good hosts tales of the outlying +world. Tales very marvellous to the dwellers in this sleek safe +homeland!--tales of rugged places where no men are, or few, and these +in peril by night and by day; tales of the lion, a creature with yellow +eyes and a great mop of yellow hair to his head, a swift and strong +creature, without pity; and of the tusked mastodon, taller than the +oldest oak, and shaking the ground he walks on; and of the winged +dragon, that huge beast, poising so high in the air that he looks no +bigger than a hawk, yet reaching his prey on earth as instantly as a +hawk his; and of the huge crawling dragon, that breathes fire through +his nostrils and scorches black the grass as he goes hunting, hunting; +of the elephant, who fears nothing but mastodons and dragons; of the +hyena and the tiger, and of beasts beside whom these seem not dreadful. + +Wide-eyed, open-mouthed, the homelanders would sit listening. ‘O +wanderer,’ would say one, ‘tell us more of the mastodon, that is taller +than the oldest oak.’ And another would say, ‘Make again for us, O +wanderer, the noise that a lion makes.’ And another, ‘Tell us more of +the dragon that scorches black the grass as he goes hunting, hunting.’ +And another, ‘O you that have so much wandered, surely you will abide +here always? Here is not hardship nor danger. We go not in fear of +the beasts whose roast flesh you have tasted and have praised. Rather +go they in great fear of us. The savoury deer flees from us, and has +swifter feet than we have, yet escapes not the point of the thrown +spear, and falls, and is ours. The hare is not often luckier, such is +our skill. Our goats and our sheep would flee from us, but dare not, +fearing the teeth of certain dogs who love us. We slay what we will for +food. For us all there is plenty in all seasons. You have drunk of the +water of our stream. Is it not fresh and cold? Have you cracked in your +wanderings better nuts than ours? or bitten juicier apples? Surely you +will abide here always.’ + +And to the wanderer it would seem no bad thing that he should do so. +Yet he did not so. When the sun had sunk and risen a few times he would +stretch his arms, maybe gazing round at the landscape with a rather +sardonic smile, and be gone through the forest or across the water. And +the homelanders, nettled, would shrug their shoulders, and thank their +gods for having rid them of a fool. + +Their gods were many, including the sun and moon, their clear stream, +apple-trees and cherry-trees and fig-trees and trees that gave nuts, +rose-bushes in summer, rain, and also fire--fire, the god that +themselves had learnt to make from flint, fire that made meat itself +godlike. But they prayed to no god, not being aware that they needed +anything. And they had no priesthood. When a youth lost his heart to a +maid he approached her, and laid his hands gently upon her shoulders, +and then, if she did not turn away from him, he put his hands about her +waist and lifted her three times from the ground. This sufficed: they +were now man and wife, and lived happily, or not so, ever after. Nor +was it needful that the rite should be only thus. If a maid lost her +heart to a youth, the laid hands could be hers, and the shoulders his, +and if he turned not away from her, if thrice he lifted her from the +ground, this too was wedlock. + +If there were no good cave for them to take as their own, bride and +bridegroom built them a hut of clay and wattles. Such huts were already +numerous, dotted about in all directions. Elder folk thought them very +ugly, and said that they spoilt the landscape. Yet what was to be done? +It is well that a people should multiply. Though these homelanders now +deemed themselves very many indeed (their number, you see, being so +much higher than they ever could count up to, even incorrectly), yet +not even the eldest of them denied that there was plenty of room and +plenty of food for more. And plenty of employment, you ask? They did +not worry about that. The more babies there were, the more children +and grown folk would there be anon to take turns in minding the ample +flocks and herds, and the more leisure for all to walk or sit around, +talking about the weather or about one another. They made no fetish of +employment. + +I have said that they were not bad. Had you heard them talked about by +one another, you might rather doubt this estimate. You would have heard +little good of any one. No family seemed to approve of its neighbours. +Even between brothers and sisters mutual trust was rare. Even husbands +and wives bickered. To strangers, as you have seen, these people could +be charming. I do not say they were ever violent among themselves. That +was not their way. But they lacked kindness. + +Happiness is said to beget kindness. Were these people not happy? They +deemed themselves so. Nay, there was to come a time when, looking +back, they felt that they had been marvellously happy. This time began +on the day in whose dawn smoke was seen rising from Hay Hill. + + * * * * * + +The title of my tale has enabled you to guess the source of that smoke: +the nostrils of some dreadful dragon. But had you been the little girl +named Thia, by whom first that smoke was seen, you would not have come +upon the truth so quickly. + +Thia had slept out under the stars, and, waking as they faded, had +risen, brushed the dew from her arms and legs, shaken it off her little +goatskin tunic, and gone with no glance around or upward to look for +mushrooms. Presently, as there seemed to be no mushrooms this morning +anywhere, she let her eyes rove from the ground (ground that is now +Lord Lansdowne’s courtyard) and, looking up, saw the thick smoke above +the hill. She saw that it came from the cave where dwelt the widow Gra +with her four children. How could Gra, how could any one, want a fire +just now? Thia’s dark eyes filled with wonder. On wintry nights it was +proper that there should be a fire at the mouth of every cave, proper +that in wintry dawns these should still be smouldering. But--such smoke +as this on such a morning! Heavier, thicker smoke than Thia had ever +seen in all the ten years of her existence! Of course fire was a god. +But surely he would not have us worship him to-day? Why then had Gra +lit him? Thia gave it up, and moved away with eyes downcast in renewed +hope of mushrooms. + +She had not gone far before she stared back again, hearing a piteous +shrill scream from the hill. She saw a little boy flying headlong down +the slope--Thol, the little red-haired boy who lived in the other cave +up there. Thol slipped, tumbled head over heels, rolled, picked himself +up, saw Thia, and rushed weeping towards her. + +‘What ails you, O child?’ asked Thia, than whom Thol was indeed a year +younger and much smaller. + +‘O!’ was all that the child vouchsafed between his sobs, ‘O!’ + +Thia thought ill of tears. Scorn for Thol fought the maternal instinct +in her. But scorn had the worst of it. She put her arms about Thol. +Quaveringly he told her what he had just seen, and what he believed it +to be, and how it lay there asleep, with just its head and tail outside +Gra’s cave, snoring. Then he broke down utterly. Thia looked at the +hill. Maternal instinct was now worsted by wonder and curiosity and the +desire to be very brave--to show how much braver than boys girls are. +Thia went to the hill, shaking off Thol’s wild clutches and leaving him +behind. Thia went up the hill quickly but warily, on tiptoe, wide-eyed, +with her tongue out upon her underlip. She took a sidelong course, and +she noticed a sort of black path through the grass, winding from the +mouth of Gra’s cave, down one side of the hill, and away, away till it +was lost in the white mists over the marshes. She climbed nearly level +with the cave’s mouth, and then, peering through a bush which hid her, +saw what lay behind the veil of smoke. + +Much worse the sleeping thing was than she had feared it would be, much +huger and more hideous. Its face was as long as a man’s body, and lay +flat out along the ground. Had Thia ever seen a crocodile’s face, that +is of what she would have been reminded--a crocodile, but with great +pricked-up ears, and snuffling forth fiery murk in deep, rhythmic, +luxurious exhalations. The tip of the creature’s tail, sticking out +from the further side of the cave’s mouth, looked to her very like an +arrow-head of flint--green flint! She could awfully imagine the rest of +the beast, curled around in the wide deep cave. And she shuddered with +a great hatred, and tears started to her eyes, as she thought of Gra +and of those others. + +When she reached the valley, it was clear to Thol that she had been +crying. And she, resenting his scrutiny, made haste to say, ‘I wept for +Gra and for her children; but you, O child, because you are a coward.’ + +At these words the boy made within him a great resolve. This was, that +he would slay the dragon. + + * * * * * + +How? He had not thought of that. When? Not to-day, he felt, nor +to-morrow. But some day, somehow. He knew himself to be small, even for +his age, and the dragon big for whatever its age might be. He knew he +was not very clever; he was sure the dragon was very clever indeed. So +he said nothing to Thia of his great resolve that she should be sorry. + +Meanwhile, the sun had risen over the hills beyond the water, and the +birds been interrupted in their songs by the bleating of penned sheep. +This sound recalled Thol from his dreams of future glory. + +For he was a shepherd’s lad. It was the custom that children, as they +ceased to toddle, should begin to join in whatever work their parents +were by way of doing for the common good. Indeed it was felt that work +was especially a thing for the young. Thol had no parents to help; +for his mother had died in giving him birth; and one day, when he was +but seven years old, his father, who was a shepherd, had been attacked +and killed by an angry ram. In the sleek safe homeland this death +by violence had made a very painful impression. There was a general +desire to hush it up, to forget it. Thol was a reminder of it. Thol was +ignored, as much as possible. He was allowed to have the cave that had +been his father’s, but even the widow Gra, in the cave so near to his, +disregarded him, and forbade her children to play with him. However, +there dwelt hard by in the valley a certain shepherd, named Brud, and +he, being childless, saw use for Thol as helping-boy, and to that use +put him. Every morning, it was Thol’s first duty to wake his master. It +was easy for Thol himself to wake early, for his cave faced eastwards. +To-day in his great excitement about the dragon he had forgotten his +duty to Brud. He went running now to perform it. + +Brud and his dog, awakened, came out and listened to Thol’s tale. +Truthfulness was regarded by all the homelanders as a very important +thing, especially for the young. Brud took his staff, and ‘Now, O +Thol,’ he said, ‘will I beat you for saying the thing that is not.’ But +the boy protested that there was indeed a dragon in Gra’s cave; so Brud +said sagely, ‘Choose then one of two things: either to run hence into +Gra’s cave, or to be beaten.’ Thol so unhesitatingly chose to be beaten +that it was clear he did believe his own story. Thia, moreover, came +running up to say that there truly was a dragon. So Brud did not beat +Thol very much, and went away with his dog towards the hill, curious to +know what really was amiss up there. + +Perhaps Thia was already sorry she had called Thol a coward, for, +though he was now crying again loudly, she did but try to comfort +him. His response to her effort was not worthy of a future hero: he +complained through his tears that she had not been beaten, too, for +saying there was a dragon. Thia’s eyes flashed fiercely. She told Thol +he was ugly and puny and freckle-faced, and that nobody loved him. All +this was true, and it came with the more crushing force from pretty +Thia, whom every one petted. + +No one ever made Thia work, though she was strong and agile, and did +wondrously well whatever task she might do for the fun of it. She +could milk a goat, or light a fire, or drive a flock of geese, or find +mushrooms if there were any, as quickly and surely as though she had +practised hard for years. But the homelanders preferred to see her go +flitting freely all the day long, dancing and carolling, with flowers +in her hair. + +Thia’s hair was as dark as her eyes. Thia was no daughter of the +homeland. She was the daughter of two wanderers who, seven years ago, +had sojourned here for a few days. Their child had then attained just +that age which was always a crisis in the lives of wanderers’ children: +she had grown enough to be heavy in her parents’ arms, and not enough +to foot it beside them. So they had left her here, promising the +homelanders that in time they would come back for her; and she, who had +had no home, had one now. Although (a relic, this, of primitive days) +no homelander ever on any account went near to the mouth of another’s +dwelling, Thia would go near and go in, and be always welcome. The +homelanders seldom praised one another’s children; but about Thia there +was no cause for jealousy: they all praised her strange beauty, her +fearless and bright ways. And withal she was very good. You must not +blame her for lack of filial sense. How should she love parents whom +she did not remember? She was full of love for the homelanders; and +naturally she hated the thought they hated: that some day two wanderers +might come and whisk her away.[A] She loved this people and this place +the more deeply perhaps because she was not of them. Forget the harsh +things she has just said to Thol. He surely was to blame. And belike +she would even have begged his pardon had she not been preoccupied with +thoughts for the whole homeland, with great fears of what the dreadful +dragon might be going to do when he woke up. + + * * * * * + +And a wonder it was that he did not wake forthwith, so loud a bellow +of terror did Brud and his dog utter at the glimpse they had of him. +The glimpse sufficed them: both bounded to the foot of the hill with +incredible speed, still howling. From the mouths of caves and huts +people darted and stood agape. Responsive sheep, goats, geese, what +not, made great noises of their own. Brud stood waving his arms wildly +towards the hill. People stared from him to the column of smoke, and +from it to him. They were still heavy with sleep. Unusual behaviour at +any time annoyed them; they deeply resented behaviour so unusual as +this so early in the morning. Little by little, disapproval merged into +anxiety. Brud became the centre of a circle. But he did not radiate +conviction. A dragon? A dragon in the homeland? Brud must be mad! + +Brud called Thol to witness. Thol, afraid that if he told the truth he +would be beaten by everybody but Brud, said nothing. Favourite Thia was +not so reticent. She described clearly the dragon’s head and tail and +the black path through the grass. Something like panic passed around +the circle; not actual panic, for--surely Thia’s bright dark eyes had +deceived her. A dragon was one thing, the homeland another: there +couldn’t possibly be a dragon in the homeland. Mainly that they might +set Thia’s mind at rest, a few people went to reconnoitre. Presently, +with palsied lips, they were admitting that there could be, and was, a +dragon in the homeland. + +They ran stuttering the news in all directions, ran knowing it to be +true, yet themselves hardly believing it, ran hoping others would +investigate it and prove it a baseless rumour, ran gibbering it to +the very confines of the homeland. Slowly, incredulously, people from +all quarters made their way to the place where so many were already +gathered. The whole population was at length concentrated in what is +Berkeley Square. Up the sky the sun climbed steadily. Surely, thought +the homelanders, a good sign? This god of theirs could not look so calm +and bright if there were really a dragon among his chosen people? Bold +adventurers went scouting hopefully up the hill, only to return with +horror in their eyes, and with the same old awful report upon their +lips. Before noon the whole throng was convinced. Eld is notoriously +irreceptive of new ideas; but even the oldest inhabitant stood +convinced now. + +Silence reigned, broken only by the bleatings, cacklings, quackings, of +animals unreleased from their pens or coops, far and near. Up, straight +up through the windless air went the column of smoke steadfastly, +horribly, up higher than the eyes of the homelanders could follow it. + +What was to be done? Could nothing be done? Could not some one, at any +rate, say something? People who did not know each other, or had for +years not been on speaking terms, found themselves eagerly conversing, +in face of the common peril. Solemn parties were formed to go and view +the dragon’s track, its odious scorched track from the marshes. People +remembered having been told by wanderers that when a dragon swam a +river he held high his head, lest his flames should be quenched. The +river that had been crossed last night by this monster was a great god. +Why had he not drowned the monster? Well, fire was a great god also, +and he deigned to dwell in dragons. One god would not destroy another. +But again, would even a small god deign to dwell in a dragon? The +homelanders revised their theology. Fire was not a god at all. + +Then, why, asked some, had the river not done his duty? The more rigid +logicians answered that neither was the river a god. But this doctrine +was not well received. People felt they had gone quite far enough as it +was. Besides, now was a time rather for action than for thought. Some +of those who were skilled in hunting went to fetch their arrows and +spears, formed a sort of army, and marched round and round the lower +slopes of the hill in readiness to withstand and slay the dragon so +soon as he should come down into the open. At first this had a cheering +and heartening effect (on all but Thol, whose personal aspiration +you remember). But soon there recurred to the minds of many, and were +repeated broadcast, other words that had been spoken by wanderers. ‘So +hard,’ had said one, ‘are the scales of a crawling dragon that no spear +can prick him, howsoever sharp and heavy and strongly hurled.’ And +another had grimly said, ‘Young is that dragon who is not older than +the oldest man.’ And another, ‘A crawling dragon is not baulked but by +the swiftness of men’s heels.’ + +All this was most depressing. Confidence in the spearmen was badly +shaken. The applause for them whenever they passed by was quieter, +betokening rather pity than hope. Nay, there were people who now +deprecated any attempt to kill the dragon. The dragon, they argued, +must not be angered. If he were not mistreated he might do no harm. He +had a right to exist. He had visited Gra’s cave in a friendly spirit, +but Gra had tried to mistreat him, and the result should be a lesson to +them all. + +Others said, more acceptably, ‘Let us think not of the dragon. What the +spearmen can do, that will they do. Let this day be as other days, and +each man to the task that is his.’ Brud was one of those who hurried +away gladly. Nor was Thol loth to follow. The chance that the dragon +might come out in his absence did not worry a boy so unprepared to-day +for single combat; and if other hands than his were to succeed in +slaying the dragon, he would liefer not have the bitterness of looking +on. + +Thia also detached herself from the throng. Many voices of men and +women and children called after her, bidding her stay. ‘I would find me +some task,’ she answered. + +‘O Thia,’ said one, ‘find only flowers for your hair. And sing to us, +dance for us. Let this day be as other days.’ And so pleaded many +voices. + +But Thia answered them, ‘My heart is too sad. We are all in peril. +For myself I am not afraid. But how should I dance, who love you? Not +again, O dear ones, shall I dance, until the dragon be slain or gone +back across the water. Neither shall I put flowers in my hair nor +sing.’ + +She went her way, and was presently guiding a flock of geese to a pond +that does not exist now. + + * * * * * + +She sat watching the geese gravely, fondly, as they swam and dived and +cackled. She was filled with a sense of duty to them. They too were +homelanders and dear ones. She wished that all the others could be so +unknowing and so happy. + +A breeze sprang up, swaying the column of smoke and driving it across +the valley, on which it cast a long, wide, dark shadow. + +Thia felt very old. She remembered a happy and careless child who +woke--how long ago!--and went looking for mushrooms. And this memory +gave her another feeling. You see, she had eaten nothing all day. + +Near the pond was a cherry-tree. She looked at it. She tried not to. +This was no day for eating. The sight of the red cherries jarred on +her. They were so very red. She went to the tree unwillingly. She +hoped no one would see her. In your impatience at the general slowness +of man’s evolution, you will be glad to learn that Thia, climbing that +tree and swinging among the branches, had notably more of assurance and +nimble ease than any modern child would have in like case. It was only +her mind that misgave her. + +Ashamed of herself, ashamed of feeling so much younger and stronger +now, she dropped to the ground and wondered how she was to atone. She +chose the obvious course. She ran around the homeland urging every one +to eat something. All were grateful for the suggestion. The length of +their fast is the measure of the shock they had received that day, +and of the strain imposed on them. Eating had ever been a thing they +excelled in. Most of them were far too fat. Thia’s suggestion was acted +on with all speed. Great quantities of cold meat were consumed. And +this was well. The night in store was to make special demands on the +nerves of the homelanders. + +As the sun drew near down to the west, the breeze dropped with it, +and the smoke was again an upright column, reddened now by the sun. +Later, while afterglow faded into twilight, to some of the homelanders +it seemed that the base of the column was less steady, was moving. +They were right. The time of their testing was at hand. The dragon was +coming down the hill. + + * * * * * + +The spearmen opened out their ranks quickly and hovered in skirmishing +order. The dragon’s pace was no quicker than that of a man strolling. +His gait was at once ponderous and sinuous. The great body rocked on +the four thick leglets that moved in a somehow light and stealthy +fashion. They ended, these leglets, in webbed feet with talons. The +long neck was craned straight forward, flush with the ground, but the +tail, which was longer still, swung its barbed tip slowly from side to +side, and sometimes rose, threshing the air. Neck, body and tail were +surmounted by a ridge of upstanding spurs. In fact, the dragon was +just what I have called him: dreadful. + +Spears flew in the twilight. Ringing noises testified that many of them +hit the mark. They rang as they glanced off the scales that completely +sheathed the brute, who, now and again, coiled his neck round to have +a look at them, as though they rather interested and amused him. One +of them struck him full on the brow (if brow it can be called) without +giving him an instant’s pause. + +Anon, however, he halted, rearing his neck straight up, turning his +head slowly this way and that, and seemed to take, between his great +puffs of fiery smoke, a general survey of the valley. Twilight was not +fading into darkness, for a young moon rode the sky, preserving a good +view for, and of, the dragon. Most of the homelanders had with one +accord retired to the further side of the valley, across the dividing +stream. Only the spearmen remained on the dragon’s side, and some sheep +that were in a fold there. One of the spearmen, taking aim, ventured +rather near to the dragon--so near that the dragon’s neck, shooting +down, all but covered the distance. The clash of the dragon’s jaws +resounded. The spearman had escaped only by a hair’s breadth. The +homelanders made a faint noise, something between a sigh and a groan. + +The dragon looked at them for a long time. He seemed to be in no hurry. +He glanced at the moon, as though saying, ‘The night is young.’ He +glanced at the sheepfold and slowly went to it. Wanderers had often +said of dragons that they devoured no kind of beast in any land that +had human creatures in it. What would this dragon do? The huddled +sheep bleated piteously at him. He reared his neck high and examined +them from that altitude. Suddenly a swoop and a clash. The neck was +instantly erect again, with a ripple down it. The head turned slowly +towards the homelanders, then slowly away again. The mind was seemingly +divided. There was a pause. This ended in another swoop, clash, recoil +and ripple. Another dubious pause; and now, neck to ground, the dragon +headed amain for the homelanders. + +They drew back, they scattered. Some rushed they knew not whither for +refuge, wailing wildly; others swarmed up the trunks of high trees +(swiftlier, yes, than we could). Across the stream stepped the dragon +with a sort of cumbrous daintiness, and straightway, at his full speed, +which was that of a man walking quickly, gave chase. If you care for +the topographical side of history, you should walk out of Berkeley +Square by way of Charles Street, into Curzon Street, past Chesterfield +House, up Park Lane, along Oxford Street, down South Molton Street and +back into Berkeley Square by way of Bruton Street. This, roughly, was +the dragon’s line of route. He did not go exactly straight along it. +He often swerved and zigzagged; and he made in the course of the night +many long pauses. He would thrust his head into the mouth of some cave +or hut, on the chance that some one had been so foolish as to hide +there; or he would crane his neck up among the lower branches of a tall +tree, scorching these with his breath, and peering up into the higher +branches, where refugees might or might not be; or he would just +stay prone somewhere, doing nothing. For the rest, he pursued whom he +saw. High speed he never achieved; but he had cunning, and had power +to bewilder with fear. Before the night was out he was back again in +his cave upon the hill. And the sleepless homelanders, forgathering +in the dawn to hear and tell what things had befallen, gradually knew +themselves to be the fewer by five souls. + + * * * * * + +It is often said that no ills are so hard to suffer as to anticipate. +I do not know that this is true. But it does seem to be a fact that +people comport themselves better under the incidence of an ill +than under the menace of it; better also in their fear of an ill’s +recurrence than when the ill is first feared. Some of the homelanders, +you will have felt, had been rather ridiculous on the first day of +the dragon’s presence among them. They had not been so in the watches +of the night. Even Brud and his dog had shown signs of courage and +endurance. Even Thol had not cried much. Thia had behaved perfectly. +But this is no more than you would expect of Thia. The point is that +after their panic at the dragon’s first quick onset, the generality of +the homelanders had behaved well. And now, haggard though they were in +the dawn, wan, dishevelled, they were not without a certain collective +dignity. + +When everything had been told and heard, they stood for a while in +silent mourning. The sun rose from the hills over the water, and with +a common impulse they knelt to this great god, beseeching him that +he would straightway call the dragon back beyond those hills, never +to return. Then they looked up at the cave. To-day the dragon was +wholly inside, his smoke rolling up from within the cave’s mouth. Long +looked the homelanders for that glimmer of nether fire which would +show that he was indeed moving forth. There was nothing for them to +see but the black smoke. ‘Peradventure,’ said one, ‘the sun is not a +god.’ ‘Nay,’ said another, ‘rather may it be that he is so great a god +that we cannot know his purposes, nor he be turned aside from them +by our small woes.’ This was accounted a strange but a wise saying. +‘Nevertheless,’ said the sayer, ‘it is well that we should ask help of +him in woes that to us are not small.’ So again the homelanders prayed, +and though their prayer was still unanswered they felt themselves +somehow strengthened. + +It was agreed that they should disperse to their dwellings, eat, and +presently reassemble in formal council. + +And here I should mention Shib; for he was destined to be important in +this council, though he was but a youth, and on his cheeks and chin the +down had but begun to lengthen. I may as well also mention Veo, his +brother, elder than him by one year. They were the sons of Oc and Loga, +with whom they lived in a cave near the valley. Veo had large eyes +which seemed to see nothing, but saw much. Shib had small eyes which +seemed to see much, and saw it. Shib’s parents thought him very clever, +as indeed he was. They thought Veo a fool; but Mr. Roger Fry, had he +seen the mural drawings in their cave, would have assured them that he +was a master. + +Said Veo to Shib, as they followed their parents to the cave, ‘Though I +prayed that he might not, I am glad that the dragon abides with us. His +smoke is as the trunk of a great tree whose branches are the sky. When +he comes crawling down the hill he is more beautiful than Thia dancing.’ + +Shib’s ideas about beauty were academic. Thia dancing, with a rose-bush +on one side of her and a sunset on the other, was beautiful. The dragon +was ugly. But Shib was not going to waste breath in argument with his +absurd brother. What mattered was not that the dragon was ugly, but +that the dragon was a public nuisance, to be abated if it could not be +suppressed. The spearmen had failed to suppress it, and would continue +to fail. But Shib thought he saw a way to abatement. He had carefully +watched throughout the night the dragon’s demeanour. He had noted how, +despite so many wanderers’ clear testimony as to the taste of all +dragons, this creature had seemed to palter in choice between the +penned sheep near to him and the mobile people across the stream; noted +that despite the great talons on his feet he did not attempt to climb +any of the trees; noted the long rests he took here and there. On these +observations Shib had formed a theory, and on this theory a scheme. And +during the family meal in the cave he recited the speech he was going +to make at the council. His parents were filled with admiration. Veo, +however, did not listen to a word. Nor did he even attend the council. +He stayed in the cave, making with a charred stick, on all vacant +spaces, stark but spirited pictures of the dragon. + + * * * * * + +I will not report in even an abridged form the early proceedings of the +council. For they were tedious. The speakers were many, halting, and +not to the point. Shib, when his chance at length came, shone. He had +a dry, unattractive manner; but he had something to say, he said it +clearly and tersely, and so he held his audience. + +Having stated the facts he had noted, he claimed no certainty for the +deduction he had made from them. He did not say, ‘Know then surely, O +homelanders, that this is a slothful dragon.’ Nor, for the matter of +that, did he say he had furnished a working hypothesis, or a hypothesis +that squared with the known facts, or a hypothesis that held the field. +Such phrases, alas, were impossible in the simple and barbarous tongue +of the homelanders. But ‘May it not be,’ Shib did say, ‘that this is +a slothful dragon?’ There was a murmur of meditative assent. ‘Hearken +then,’ said Shib, ‘to my counsel. Let the spearmen go slay two deer. +Let the shepherds go slay two sheep, and the goat-herds two goats. Also +let there be slain three geese and as many ducks. Or ever the sun leave +us, and the dragon wake from his sleep, let us take all these up and +lay them at the mouth of the cave that was Gra’s cave. Thus it may be +that this night shall not be as the last was, but we all asleep and +safe. And if so it betide us, let us make to the dragon other such +offerings to-morrow, and on all days that are to come.’ + +There was prompt and unanimous agreement that this plan should be +tried. The spearmen went hunting. Presently they returned with a buck +and a roe. By this time the other animals prescribed had been slain +in due number. It remained that the feast should be borne noiselessly +up the hill and spread before the slumbering dragon. The homelanders +surprised one another, surprised even themselves, by their zeal for a +share of this task. Why should any one of them be wanting to do work +that others could do? and willing to take a risk that others would +take? Really they did not know. It was a strange foible. But there +it was. A child can carry the largest of ducks; but as many as four +men were lending a hand in porterage of a duck to-day. Not one of the +porters enjoyed this work. But somehow they all wanted to do it, and +did it with energy and good humour. + +Very soon, up yonder on the flat shelf of ground in front of the cave’s +mouth, lay temptingly ranged in a semicircular pattern two goats, +three ducks, two deer, three geese and two sheep. All had been done +that was to be done. The homelanders suddenly began to feel the effects +of their sleepless night. They would have denied that they were sleepy, +but they felt a desire to lie down and think. The valley soon had a +coverlet of sleeping figures, prone and supine. But, as you know, the +mind has a way of waking us when it should; and the homelanders were +all wide awake when the shadows began to lengthen. + +Very still the air was; and very still stood those men and women and +children, on the other side of the dividing stream. The sun, setting +red behind them, sent their shadows across the stream, on and on +slowly, to the very foot of the hill up to which they were so intently +looking. The column of smoke, little by little, lost its flush. But +anon it showed fitful glimpses of a brighter red at the base of it, +making known that the dragon’s head was not inside the cave. And +now it seemed to the homelanders, in these long moments, that their +hearts ceased beating, and all hope died in them. Suddenly--clash! the +dragon’s jaws echoed all over the valley; and then what silence! + +Through the veil of smoke, dimly, it was seen that the red glow rose, +paused, fell--clash! again. + +Twelve was a number that the homelanders could count up to quite +correctly. Yet even after the twelfth clash they stood silent and +still. Not till the red glow faded away into the cave did they feel +sure that to-night all was well with them. + +Then indeed a great deep sigh went up from the throng. There were +people who laughed for joy; others who wept for the same reason. +None was happier than Thia. She was on the very point of singing and +dancing, but remembered her promise, and the exact wording of it, just +in time. In all the valley there was but one person whose heart did not +rejoice. This was Veo. He had come out late in the afternoon, to await, +impatiently, the dragon’s reappearance. He had particularly wanted to +study the action of the hind-legs, which he felt he had not caught +rightly. Besides, he had wanted to see the whole magnificent creature +again, just for the sight of it. Veo was very angry. Nobody, however, +heeded him. Everybody heeded the more practical brother. It was a great +evening for Oc and Loga. They were sorry there was a dragon in the +homeland, but even more (for parents will be parents) were they proud +of their boy’s success. The feelings of Thol, too, were not unmixed. +Though none of the homelanders, except Thia, had ever shown him any +kindness, he regretted the dragon, and was very glad that the dragon +was not coming out to-night; but he was even gladder that the dragon +had not been slain by the spearmen nor called back across the water by +the sun. It was true that if either of these things had happened he +could have gone to sleep comfortably in his own cave, and that he dared +not sleep there now, and saw no prospect of sleeping there at all until +he had slain the dragon. But he bethought him of the many empty caves +on the way down to the marshes. And he moved into that less fashionable +quarter--sulkily indeed, but without tears, and sustained by a great +faith in the future. + + * * * * * + +On the morning of next day the homelanders prayed again to the sun that +he would call the dragon away from them. He did not so. Therefore they +besought him that he would forbid the dragon to come further than the +cave’s mouth, and would cause him to be well-pleased with a feast like +yesterday’s. + +Such a feast, in the afternoon, was duly laid at the cave’s mouth; and +again, when the sun was setting, the dragon did not come down the hill, +but ate aloft there, and at the twelfth clash drew back his glowing +jaws into the cave. + +Day followed day, each with the same ritual and result. + +Shib did not join in the prayers. He regarded them as inefficacious, +and also as rather a slight to himself. The homelanders, be it said, +intended no slight. They thought Shib wonderfully clever, and were +most grateful to him; but it never occurred to them to rank him among +gods. + +Veo always prayed heartily that the dragon should be called away +forthwith. He wanted to see the dragon by daylight. But he did not pray +that the dragon should not come forth in the evening. Better a twilit +dragon than none at all. + +Little Thol, though he prayed earnestly enough that the dragon should +stay at home by night, never prayed for him to leave the homeland. He +prayed that he himself might grow up very quickly, and be very big and +very strong and very clever and very brave. + +For the rest, the homelanders were all orthodox in their devotions. + + * * * * * + +The young moon had grown old, had dwindled, and disappeared. The sound +of the clashed jaws ceased to be a novelty. The vesperal gatherings in +the valley became smaller. The great column of smoke, by day and by +night, was for the homelanders a grim reminder of what had happened, +and of what would happen again if once they failed to fulfil the needs +of their uninvited guest. They were resolved that they would not fail. +In this resolution they had a sombre sense of security. But there came, +before the leaves of the trees were yellow, an evening when the dragon +left untasted the feast spread for him, and crawled down the hill. He +was half-way down before any one noticed his coming. And on that night, +a longer night than the other, he made a wider journey around the +homeland, and took a heavier toll of lives. + +Thenceforth always, at sunset, guards were posted to watch the hill and +to give, if need were, the alarm. Nor did even this measure suffice. In +the dawn of a day in winter, when snow was lying thick on the homeland, +a goat-herd observed with wonder a wide pathway through the snow from +the dragon’s cave; and presently he saw afar on the level ground the +dragon himself, with his head inside the mouth of a lonely hut that +was the home of a young man recently wedded. From the hut’s mouth +crept forth clouds of smoke, and, as the dragon withdrew his head, the +goat-herd, finding voice, raised such a cry as instantly woke many +sleepers. That day lived long in the memory of the homelanders. The +dragon was very active. He did not plod through the snow. He walked +at his full speed upon the ground, the snow melting before him at the +approach of his fiery breath. It was the homelanders that plodded. Some +of them stumbled head foremost into snowdrifts and did not escape their +pursuer. There was nothing slothful in the dragon’s conduct that day. +Hour after hour in the keen frosty air he went his way, and not before +nightfall did he go home. + +Thus was inaugurated what we may call the Time of Greater Stress. No +one could know at what hour of night or day the dragon might again raid +the homeland. Relays of guards had to watch the hill always. No one, +lying down to sleep, knew that the dragon might not forthcome before +sunrise; no one, throughout the day, knew that the brute might not +be forthcoming at any moment. True, he forthcame seldom. The daily +offerings of slain beasts and birds sufficed him, mostly. But he was +never to be depended on--never. + +Shib’s name somewhat fell in the general esteem. Nor was it raised +again by the execution of a scheme that he conceived. The roe and buck +stuffed with poisonous herbs were swallowed by the dragon duly, but +the column of smoke from the cave’s mouth did not cease that evening, +as had been hoped. And on the following afternoon--a sign that the +stratagem had not been unnoticed--one of the men who were placing the +food in front of the cave perished miserably in the dragon’s jaws. + +Other devices of Shib’s failed likewise. The homelanders had to accept +the dragon as a permanent factor in their lives. Year by year, night +and day, rose the sinister column of smoke, dense, incessant. Happy +those tiny children who knew not what a homeland without a dragon was +like! So, at least, thought the elders. + +And yet, were these elders so much less happy than they had erst been? +Were they not--could they but have known it--happier? Did not the +danger in which they lived make them more appreciative of life? Surely +they had a zest that in the halcyon days was not theirs? Certainly they +were quicker-witted. They spoke less slowly, their eyes were brighter, +all their limbs nimbler. Perhaps this was partly because they ate less +meat. The dragon’s diet made it necessary that they should somewhat +restrict their own, all the year round. The dragon, without knowing it, +was a good physician to them. + +Without being a moralist or a preacher, he had also improved their +characters. Quarrels had become rare. Ill-natured gossip was frowned +on. Suspicions throve not. Manners had unstiffened. The homelanders +now liked one another. They had been drawn charmingly together in +brotherhood and sisterhood. You would have been surprised at the change +in them. + + * * * * * + +But for his bright red hair, perhaps you would not have recognised Thol +at all. He was a great gawky youth now. Spiritually, however, he had +changed little. He was still intent on slaying the dragon. + +In the preceding years he had thought of little else than this, and as +he never had said a word about it he was not accounted good company. +Nor had he any desire to shine--in any light but that of a hero. The +homelanders would have been cordial enough to him, throughout those +years, if he had wished them to be so. But he never was able to forget +how cold and unkind they had been to him in his early childhood. It was +not for their sake that he had so constantly nursed and brooded over +his great wish. It was for his own sake only. + +An unsympathetic character? Stay!--let me tell you that since the dawn +of his adolescence another sake had come in to join his own: Thia’s +sake. + +From the moment when she, in childhood, had called him a coward, it +always had been Thia especially that he wished to impress. But in +recent times his feeling had changed. How should such a lout as he ever +hope to impress Thia, who was a goddess? Thol hoped only to make Thia +happy, to see her go dancing and singing once more, with flowers in her +hair. Thol did not even dare hope that Thia would thank him. Thol was +not an unsympathetic character at all. + +As for Thia, she was more fascinating than ever. Do not be misled by +her seeming to Thol a goddess. Remember that the homelanders worshipped +cherry-trees and rain and fire and running water and all such things. +There was nothing of the statuesque Hellenic ideal about Thia. She had +not grown tall, she was as lissom and almost as slight as ever; and +her alien dark hair had not lost its wildness: on windy days it flew +out far behind her, like a thunder cloud, and on calm days hid her as +in a bush. She had never changed the task that she chose on the day of +the dragon’s advent. She was still a goose-girl. But perhaps she was +conscious now that the waddling gait of her geese made the grace of her +own gait the lovelier by its contrast. Certainly she was familiar with +her face. She had often leaned over clear pools to study it--to see +what the homelanders saw in it. She was very glad of her own charms +because they were so dear to all those beloved people. But sometimes +her charms also saddened her. She had had many suitors--youths of her +own age, and elder men too. Even Veo, thinking her almost as beautiful +as the dragon, had laid his hands upon her shoulders, in the ritual +mode. Even the intellectual Shib had done so. And even from such elders +as these it was dreadful to turn away. Nor was Thia a girl of merely +benevolent nature: she had warm desires, and among the younger suitors +more than one had much pleased her fancy. But stronger than any other +sentiment in her was her love for the homeland. Not until the dragon +were slain or were gone away across the waters would Thia be wife of +any man. + +So far as she knew, she had sentenced herself to perpetual maidenhood. +Even had she been aware of Thol’s inflexible determination, she would +hardly have become hopeful. Determination is one thing, doing is +another. + +The truth of that old adage sometimes forced itself on poor Thol +himself, as he sat watching the sheep that he herded near his cave on +the way to the marshes; and at such time his sadness was so great that +it affected even his sheep, causing them to look askance at him and +bleat piteously, and making drearier a neighbourhood that was in itself +dreary. + +But, one day in the eighteenth summer of his years, Thol ceased to +despond. There came, wet from the river and mossy from the marshes, an +aged wanderer. He turned his dark eyes on Thol and said with a smile, +pointing towards the thick smoke on the hill, ‘A dragon is here now?’ + +‘Yea, O wanderer,’ Thol answered. + +‘There was none aforetime,’ said the old man. ‘A dragon was what your +folk needed.’ + +‘They need him not. But tell me, O you that have so much wandered, and +have seen many dragons, tell me how a dragon may be slain!’ + +‘Mind your sheep, young shepherd. Let the dragon be. Let not your sheep +mourn you.’ + +‘They shall not. I shall slay the dragon. Only tell me how! Surely +there is a way?’ + +‘It is a way that would lead you into his jaws, O fool, and not hurt +him. Only through the roof of his mouth can a dragon be pierced and +wounded. He opens not his jaws save when they are falling upon his +prey. Do they not fall swiftly, O fool?’ + +‘O wanderer, yea. But’---- + +‘Could you deftly spear the roof of that great mouth, O prey, in that +little time?’ + +‘Yea, surely, if so the dragon would perish.’ + +The old man laughed. ‘So would the dragon perish, truly; but so only. +So would be heard what few ears have heard--the cry that a dragon +utters as he is slain. But so only.’ And he went his way northward. + +From that day on, Thol did not watch his sheep very much. They, on +the other hand, spent most of their time in watching him. They rather +thought he was mad, standing in that odd attitude and ever lunging his +crook up at one of the nodding boughs of that ash tree. + +Twice in the course of the autumn the dragon came down the hill; but +when the watchman sounded the alarm Thol did not go forth to meet him. +He was not what his flock thought him. + +He had now exchanged his crook for a spear--a straight well-seasoned +sapling of oak, with a long sharp head of flint. With this, day by +day, hour after hour, he lunged up at the boughs of fruit-trees. His +flock, deploring what seemed to them mania, could not but admire his +progressive skill. Rarely did he fail now in piercing whatever plum or +apple he aimed at. + +When winter made bare the branches, it was at the branches that Thol +aimed his thrusts. His accuracy was unerring now. But he had yet to +acquire the trick of combining the act of transfixion with the act of +leaping aside. Else would he perish even in victory. + +Spring came. As usual, her first care was to put blossoms along the +branches of such almond trees as were nearest to the marshes. + +The ever side-leaping Thol pricked off any little single blossom that +he chose. + + * * * * * + +Spring was still active in the homeland when, one day, a little while +before sunset, the watchers of the hill blew their horns. There came +from all quarters the usual concourse of young and old, to watch the +direction of the dragon and to keep out of it. Down came the familiar +great beast, the never-ageing dragon, picking his way into the green +valley. And he saw an unwonted sight there. He saw somebody standing +quite still on the nearer bank of the stream; a red-haired young +person, holding a spear. About this young person he formed a theory +which had long been held by certain sheep. + +Little wonder that the homelanders also formed that theory! Little +wonder that they needed no further proof of it when, deaf to the cries +of entreaty that they uttered through the evening air, Thol stood his +ground! + +Slowly, as though to give the wretched young lunatic a chance, the +dragon advanced. + +But quickly, very terribly and quickly, when he was within striking +distance, he reared his neck up. An instant later there rang through +the valley--there seemed to rend the valley--a single screech, unlike +anything that its hearers had ever heard. + +Those who dared to look saw the vast length of the dragon, neck on +grass, coiling slowly round. The tip of the tail met the head and +parted from it. Presently the vast length was straight, motionless. + +Yet even of those who had dared look none dared believe that the dragon +was indeed dead. + +But for its death-cry, Thol himself would hardly have believed. + +The second firm believer was Thia. Thia, with swift conviction, plucked +some flowers and put them loosely into her hair. Thia, singing as well +as though she had never ceased to sing, and dancing as prettily as +though she had for years been practising her steps, went singing and +dancing towards the stream. Lightly she lept the stream, and then very +seriously and quietly walked to the spot where Thol stood. She looked +up at him, and then, without a word, raised her arms and put her hands +upon his shoulders. He, who had slain the dragon, trembled. + +‘O Thol,’ she said gently, ‘you turn not away from me, but neither do +you raise me from the ground.’ + +Then Thol raised Thia thrice from the ground. + +And he said, ‘Let our home be the cave that was my father’s.’ + +Hand in hand, man and wife, they went up the hill, and round to the +eastern side of its summit. But when they came to the mouth of the old +cave there, he paused and let go her hand. + +‘O Thia,’ he said wonderingly, ‘is it indeed true that you love me?’ + +‘O Thol,’ she answered, ‘it is most true.’ + +‘O Thia,’ he said, ‘love me always!’ + +‘I have long ceased to love you, O Thol,’ she said, five years later, +in a low voice. But I see that I have outstripped my narrative. I must +hark back. + + * * * * * + +The sun had already risen far when Thol and Thia were wakened by a +continuous great hum as of many voices. When they looked forth and +down from the mouth of their high home, it seemed to them that all the +homelanders were there beneath them, gazing up. + +And this was indeed so. Earlier in the morning, by force of habit, all +the homelanders had gone to what we call Berkeley Square, the place +where for so many years they had daily besought the sun to call the +dragon away across the waters. There, where lay the great smokeless and +harmless carcass, was no need for prayers now; and with one accord the +throng had moved from the western to the eastern foot of the hill, and +stayed there gazing in reverence up to the home of a god greater than +the sun. + +When at length the god showed himself, there arose from the throng a +great roar of adoration. The throng went down on its knees to him, +flung up its arms to him, half-closed its eyes so as not to be blinded +by the sight of him. His little mortal mate, knowing not that he was a +god, thinking only that he was a brave man and her own, was astonished +at the doings of her dear ones. The god himself, sharing her ignorance, +was deeply embarrassed, and he blushed to the roots of his hair. + +‘Laugh, O Thol,’ she whispered to him. ‘It were well for them that you +should laugh.’ But he never had laughed in all his life, and was much +too uncomfortable to begin doing so just now. He backed into the cave. +The religious throng heaved a deep moan of disappointment as he did so. +Thia urged him to come forth and laugh as she herself was doing. ‘Nay,’ +he said, ‘but do you, whom they love, dance a little for them and sing. +Then will they go away happy.’ + +It seemed to Thia that really this was the next best plan, and so, +still laughing, she turned round and danced and sang with great +animation and good-will. The audience, however, was cold. It gave her +its attention, but even this, she began to feel, was not its kind +attention. Indeed, the audience was jarred. After a while--for Thia’s +pride forbade her to stop her performance--the audience began to drift +away. + +There were tears in her eyes when she danced back into the cave. But +these she brushed away, these she forgot instantly in her lover’s +presence. + + * * * * * + +Love is not all. ‘I must go drive my geese,’ said the bride. + +‘And I my sheep,’ said the bridegroom. + +‘There is good grass, O Thol, round my geese’s pond. Let your sheep +graze there always. Thus shall not our work sever us.’ + +As they went forth, some children were coming up the hill, carrying +burdens. The burdens were cold roast flesh, dried figs, and a gourd +of water, sent by some elders as a votive offering to the god. The +children knelt at sight of the god and then ran shyly away, leaving +their gifts on the ground. The god and his mate feasted gladly. Then +they embraced and parted, making tryst at the pond. + +When Thia approached the pond, she did not wonder that Thol was already +there, for sheep go quicker than geese. But--where were his sheep? +‘Have they all strayed?’ she cried out to him. + +He came to meet her, looking rather foolish. + +‘O Thia,’ he explained, ‘as I went to the fold, many men and women +were around it. I asked them what they did there. They knelt and made +answer, “We were gazing at the sheep that had been the god’s.” When I +made to unpen the flock, there was a great moaning. There was gnashing +of teeth, O Thia, and tearing of hair. It was said by all that the god +must herd sheep nevermore.’ + +‘And you, beloved, what said you?’ + +‘I said nothing, O Thia, amid all that wailing. I knew not what to say.’ + +Thia laughed long but tenderly. ‘And your sheep, beloved, what said +they?’ + +‘How should I know?’ asked Thol. + +‘And you left them there? Do you not love them?’ + +‘I have never loved them.’ + +‘But they were your task?’ + +‘O Thia, the dragon was my task.’ + +She stroked his arm. ‘The dragon is dead, O Thol. You have slain the +dragon, O my brave dear one. That task is done. You must find some +other. All men must work. Since you loved not your sheep, you shall +love my geese, and I will teach you to drive them with me.’ + +‘That,’ said Thol, ‘would not be a man’s work, O Thia.’ + +‘But they say you are a god! And I think a god may do as he will.’ + +Her flock had swum out into the pond. She called it back to her, and +headed it away towards some willows. From one of these she plucked for +Thol a long twig such as she herself carried, and, having stripped it +of its leaves, gave it to him and began to teach him her art. + + * * * * * + +There was, as Thia had known there must be, a great concourse of people +around and about the dragon. + +There was a long line of children riding on its back; there were +infants in arms being urged by their mothers never to forget that they +had seen it; there were many young men and women trying to rip off +some of its scales, as reminders; and there were elders exchanging +reminiscences of its earliest raids and correcting one another on +various points. And the whole crowd of holiday-makers was so intent +that the gradual approach of that earnest worker, Thol, was not noticed +until he came quite near. + +Very gradual, very tortuous and irregular, his approach was. Thia, +just now, was letting him shift for himself, offering no hints at +all. For the homelanders’ sake, she wished him to be seen at his +worst. It was ill that they should worship a false god. To her, he was +something better than a real god. But this was another matter. To the +homelanders, he ought to seem no more than a man who had done a great +deed and set a high example. And for his own sake, and so for hers--for +how could his not be hers?--she wished him to have no more honour than +was his due. Splendid man though he was, and only a year younger than +herself, he was yet a child; and children, thought Thia--though she was +conscious that she herself, for all the petting she had received, was +rather perfect--are easily spoilt. Altogether, the goose-girl’s motives +were as pure as her perception was keen. Admirable, too, were her +tactics; and they should have succeeded. Yet they failed. In the eyes +of the homelanders the goose-god lost not a jot of his divinity. + +No hint of disillusion was in the moans evoked by the sight of him. +Grief, shame, horror at his condescension, and a deep wrath against the +whilom darling Thia, were all that was felt by the kneeling and swaying +crowd. + +Thia knew it. She was greatly disappointed. Indeed, she was near to +shedding tears again. Pride saved her from that. Besides, she was +angry, and not only angry but amused. And in a clear voice that was +audible above the collective moaning, ‘Have patience, O homelanders,’ +she cried. ‘He is new to his work. He will grow in skill. These geese +will find that he is no fool. And it may be that hereafter, if you are +all very good, I will teach him to sing and dance for you, with flowers +in his bright red hair.’ + +Having thus spoken, she ran to overtake her husband, and soon, guiding +the flock in good order, went her way with him back to the pond. + + * * * * * + +There was a general desire that the dragon should not be buried +anywhere within the confines of the homeland. Shib conceived that if +the trunks of felled trees were used as rollers the carcass might be +transported to the swamps and be sunk there. By its vast weight the +carcass frustrated this scheme. A long deep trench must be dug beside +it. All the able-bodied men of the homeland offered their services, and +of course Shib was a most efficient director of the work. + +You will be glad to hear that Shib was a more sympathetic character +than he once was. The public spirit that had always been his was +unmarred now by vanity and personal ambition. He was a quiet, +disinterested, indefatigable worker for the common weal, burning always +with that hard, gem-like flame which Mr. Pater discerned in the breasts +of our own Civil Servants. He had forgotten, or he remembered without +bitterness, the time when he was a popular hero. Thol’s great deed was +a source of genuine pleasure to him. Nay (for he had long ago outgrown +his callow atheism), he accepted Thol as a god, though he was too +cautious to rate him higher than the sun. + +Thus he was much shocked when Thol came wishing to help in the labour. +Rising, at Thol’s earnest entreaty, from his knees, he ventured to +speak firmly to the god--reverently but very firmly pointing out to +him that the labourers, if their religious feelings were flouted, +would probably cease work; and he hinted that he himself would have +to consider whether he could retain his post. So Thol went back to +the goose-pond and was so much chidden by Thia for his weakness that +he almost wished she believed him to be a god. Of course he was not a +god. Of course Thia was right. Still, Shib was known to be a very wise +man. It was strange that Shib should be mistaken. Inwardly, he could +not agree with Thia that Shib was a fool. And I think she must have +suspected him of this reservation, for she looked at him with much +trouble in her eyes and was for a while silent, and then, fondlingly, +made him promise that he never would trust any one’s thoughts but hers. + +Three days later the great trench was finished; and down into it, by +leverage of many stakes heftily wielded in unison, was heaved the +dragon (and there, to this day, deep down under the eastern side of the +garden and road-way of Berkeley Square, is the dragon’s skeleton--an +occult memorial of Thol’s deed). Down into the trench, with a great +thud that for a moment shook the ground, fell Thol’s victim. Presently +the trench brimmed with earth, and this earth was stamped firm by +exultant feet, and more earth was added to it and stamped on till only +a long brown path, that would soon be green and unnoticeable, marked +the place of sepulture. + +The great occasion lacked only the god’s presence. Of course the god +had been invited. Shib, heading a deputation on the banks of the +goose-pond, had besought him that he would deign to throw the first +clod of earth upon the dragon; and he had diplomatically added that +all the homelanders were hoping that Thia might be induced to sing and +dance on the grave as soon as it had been filled. But Thia had answered +that she could not give her husband leave, inasmuch as he had been idle +at his work that day; he would like very much to come; but it was for +that very reason that she would not let him: he must be punished. As +for herself, she too would very much like to come, but she must stay +and keep him to his work. Thol saying nothing, the deputation had +then withdrawn, not without many obeisances, which Thia, with as many +curtseys, roguishly took to herself. + +However, even without the light of the god’s countenance on it, the +festival was a great and glorious one. Perhaps indeed the revellers +enjoyed themselves more than would have been possible in the glare +of that awful luminary. The revels lasted throughout the night, and +throughout the next day, and did not cease even then. Dazed with +sleepiness and heavy with surfeits of meat, the homelanders continued +to caper around bonfires and to clap one another on the back; and only +because they had not the secret of fermented liquor were there no +regrettable scenes of intoxication. The revels had become a habit. It +seemed as though they would never cease. But human strength is finite. + +Thia would have liked to be in the midst of the great to-do. It was +well that the homelanders should rejoice. And the homelanders were as +dear to her as ever, though she had so much offended them for Thol’s +sake and theirs. Thol’s nature was not social, as hers was; but she +knew that even he would have liked to have glimpses of the fun. It +grieved her to keep him aloof with her among the geese. She sang and +danced round him and petted him and made much of him, all day long. + + * * * * * + +The autumn was rainy; and the winter was rainy too; and thus the +brown path over the dragon’s grave vanished even before spring came. +Green also was the grass that had for so many years been black above +and around the mouth of the dragon’s cave. Valley and hill smiled as +blandly at each other as though they had never seen a dragon. + +Little by little, likewise, the souls of the homelanders had reverted, +as we should say, to type. There were no signs now of that mutual +good-will which had been implanted in them by the common peril and had +overflowed so wildly at the time when the peril ended. Mistrustfulness +had revived, and surliness with it, and quickness to take offence, +and a dull eagerness to retaliate on the offender. The shortcomings of +others were once more the main preoccupation of the average homelander. +Next to these, the weather was once more the favourite topic of +conversation, especially if the weather were bad; but even if it +were good, the prospect of bad weather was dwelt on with a more than +sufficient emphasis. Work, of course, had to be done; but as little +of it was done as might be, and that glumly, and not well. Meals were +habitually larger than appetites. Eyes were duller, complexions less +clear, chests narrower, stomachs more obtrusive, arms and legs less +well-developed, than they had been under the dragon’s auspices. And +prayers, of course, were not said now. + +Thia in her childhood had thought the homelanders perfect; and thus +after the coming of the dragon she had observed no improvement in +them. But now, with maturer vision, she did see that they were growing +less worthy of high esteem. This grieved her. She believed that she +loved the homelanders as much as ever, she told herself truly enough +that it was much her own fault that they had ceased to love her. In +point of fact, their coldness to her, in course of time, cooled her +feeling for them: she was human. What she did love as much as ever was +the homeland. What grieved her was that the homeland should have an +imperfect population. + +She talked constantly to Thol about her sorrow. He was not a very apt +auditor. Being a native of the homeland, he could not see it, as she +could, from without. It was not to him an idea, as it was to Thia’s +deep alien eyes. It was just the homeland. As for the homelanders +themselves, he had never, as you may remember, loved them; but he liked +them quite well now. He supposed he really was not a god; but it no +longer embarrassed him to be thought so; indeed it pleased him to be +thought so. The homelanders no longer knelt when he passed by. He had +asked them not to, and they reverently obeyed his wish. He supposed +Thia was right in saying that they were less good than in the days of +the dragon; but in those days he had hardly known them. He was glad to +know them better now. His nature had, in fact, become more expansive. +He wished Thia were not so troubled about the homeland. He wished she +would think more gently of the homelanders, and think less about them, +and talk less to him about them. + +Sometimes she even tried to enlist his help. ‘To me,’ she would say, +‘they would not hearken. But you, O Thol, whom in their folly they +still believe to be a god, could give light to them and shame them back +to goodness and strength, and so to happiness. I would teach you what +words to say.’ But Thol, even though he was to be spared the throes of +composition, would look so blankly wretched that Thia’s evangelical +ardour was quenched in laughter. He did not know why she was laughing, +and he hoped it was not at him that she was laughing: after all, he had +slain the dragon. Nevertheless, her gaiety was a relief to him. + +But her ardour was always flaming up again. + + * * * * * + +She had very soon exempted him from that task which failed to cure the +homelanders of their delusion about him. She agreed that goose-driving +was not a man’s work. As he did not wish to be a shepherd again, and as +it was needful for his own good that he should be set to some sort of +work, she urged him to be a goat-herd. Goats, she said, were less dull +than sheep; fiercer; more like dragons. So, beside the goose-pond, he +herded goats; but without the enthusiasm that she had hoped for. + +One day, about a year after their marriage, he even suggested that +he should have a lad to help him. She said, with a curl of the lip, +that she had not known he was old and feeble. He replied, seriously, +that he was younger than she; and as for feebleness, he asked her to +remember that he, not she, had slain the dragon. He then walked away, +leaving his goats to their own devices, and his wife to hers, and spent +the rest of the day in company that was more appreciative of him. He +returned of course before sundown, fearful of a lecture. Thia, who had +already driven his goats into their pen, did but smile demurely, saying +that she would always be glad to do his work for him, and that she was +trustier than any lad. + +But, as time went on, her temper was not always so sweet. Indeed, it +ceased to be sweet. In his steady, rather bovine way, he loved her as +much as ever; but his love of being with her was less great, and his +pleasure in the society of others was greater, than of yore. Perhaps +if Thia had borne a child, she might have been less troubled about +the welfare of the homelanders. But this diversion and solace was not +granted. Thia’s maternal instinct had to spend itself on a community +which she could not help and did not now genuinely love, and on a +husband who did not understand her simplest thoughts and was moreover +growing fat. Her disposition suffered under the strain. One day, when +she was talking to him about the homeland, she paused with sudden +suspicion and asked him what she had said last; and he could make no +answer; and she asked him to tell her what he had been thinking about; +and he said that he had been thinking about his having slain the +dragon; and she, instead of chiding him tenderly, as she would have +done in the old days, screamed. She screamed that she would go mad +if ever again he spoke to her of that old dragon. She flung her arms +out towards the hills across the waters and said, with no lowering of +her voice, that every day, out yonder, men were slaying dragons and +thinking nothing of it, and doing their work, and not growing fat. He +asked her whether she meant that he himself was growing fat. ‘Yea,’ she +answered. He said that then indeed she was mad. Away he strode, nor +did he return at sundown; and it was late in the night before the god +retired from a cheery party of worshippers and went up to the cave, +where Thia, faintly visible in the moonlight, lay sleeping, with a look +of deep disdain on her face. + + * * * * * + +Sometimes Thia wondered whether in her childhood the characters and +ways of the homelanders had been as they were now. She hated to think +that they had not been perfect in those days; but she reasoned that +they could not have been: before the coming of the dragon they must +have been as they were now, and the only difference was that they had +then loved her. Thus even the memory of her bright careless early years +was embittered to her. + +In point of fact, the homelanders had not been exactly as they now +were. The sudden cessation of the strain imposed on them by the +dragon’s presence, and of the comparative hardships also imposed by +it, had caused a reaction so strong as to restore to them in a rather +accentuated form what faults had originally been theirs. Human nature +had grown rather more human than ever. Labour was a less than ever +alluring thing. Responsibilities had a greater irksomeness. Freedom was +all. And, as having special measure of vital force, especially were +youths and maidens intent on making the most of their freedom. Their +freedom was their religion; and, as every religion needs rites, they +ritualistically danced. They danced much during the day, and then much +by moonlight or starlight or firelight, in a grim and purposeful, an +angular and indeflexible manner, making it very clear that they were +not to be trifled with. + +Thia, when first she saw them engaged thus, had been very glad; she +imagined that they must be doing something useful. When she realised +that they were dancing, she drew a deep breath. She remembered how she +herself had danced--danced thoughtlessly and anyhow, from her heart, +with every scrap of her body. She blushed at the recollection. She did +not wonder that the homelanders had resented her dance on the morning +after her marriage. She wondered that they had encouraged her to dance +when she was a child. And she felt that there must, after all, be in +these young people a deep fund of earnestness, auguring well for their +future. + +Time had not confirmed this notion. The young people danced through the +passing seasons and the passing years with ever greater assiduity and +solemnity; but other forms of seriousness were not manifested by them. +Few of them seemed to find time even for falling in love and marrying. +They all, however, called one another ‘beloved,’ and had a kind of +mutual good-will which their elders, among themselves, would have done +well to emulate. And for those elders they had a tolerant feeling which +ought to have been, yet was not, fully reciprocated. + +Thol within five years of the dragon’s death, Thol with his immense +red beard and his stately deportment, was of course very definitely an +elder; and still more so was that wife of his, that rather beautiful +dark woman, Thia, whose face was so set and stern that she looked +almost as though she--she!--were dancing. Thol was liked by the young +people. They made much of him. They did not at all object to his being +rather pompous: after all, he had slain that dragon, and they thought +it quite natural that their parents should imagine he was a god. They +liked him to be pompous. They humoured him. They enjoyed drawing him +out. Among the youths there were several who, in the hours not devoted +to earnest dancing and cursory guardianship of flocks, made pictures +upon white stones or upon slabs of chalk. They liked especially to +make pictures of Thol, because he was so ready to pose for them, and +because he stood so still for them. They drew in a manner of their +own, a manner, which made the veins of poor old Veo stand out upon his +forehead, and moved him to declare that they would die young and would +die in shame and in agony. Thol, however, was no critic. He was glad to +be portrayed in any manner. And it much pleased him to have the colour +of his mane and beard praised constantly by the young artists. He had +supposed the colour was wrong. Thia had been wont to laugh at it, in +her laughing days. Thia had never called him beautiful, in her praising +days. It gladdened him that there were now many young women--Afa, for +instance, and Ola, and Ispa, and Moa--who called him, to his face, +‘terribly’ beautiful. + +Thol’s face, which Thia had admired for its steadfast look, and later +had begun to like less for its heavy look, had now a look that was +rather fatuous. Afa and the others did not at all object to this. They +liked it; they encouraged it by asking him to dance with them. He did +not, as they supposed, think that he was too old to dance: he only +thought that he might not dance well and might lose his power over +them. He believed that they loved him. How should they not? Thia, +though she never told him so now, loved him with her whole heart, of +course, and, for all the harsh words she spoke at times, thought that +no man was his equal. How should not these much gentler young women not +have given their hearts to him? He felt that he himself could love one +of them, if he were not Thia’s husband. They were not beautiful, as +Thia was; and they were not wise, as she was; but he felt that if he +had never seen Thia he might love one of them, or even all of them. + + * * * * * + +For lack of a calendar, the homelanders had not the habit of keeping +anniversaries. They never knew on what day of the year a thing had +happened--did not even know that there was a year. But they knew the +four seasons. They remembered that the apple-trees had been in blossom +when Thol slew the dragon, and that since then the apple-trees had +blossomed four times. And it seemed good to them that at the close of +a day when those blossoms were again on those branches, a feast should +be held in that part of the valley where the great deed had been done. +Shib, who organised the feast, was anxious that it should be preceded +by a hymn in praise of the slayer god. He thought this would have a +good effect on the rising generation. But Thol opposed the idea, and +it was dropped. Shib had also been anxious that Thia should attend the +feast, sitting at Thol’s right hand and signifying to the young the +blessedness of the married state. Thol promised that he would beg her +to come; and he did so, as a matter of form, frequently. But Thia of +course did not grace the convivial scene. + +It was at a late hour of the moonlit night that Thol, flushed with +adulation, withdrew from the revels, amidst entreaties that he should +remain. He was still wearing the chaplet of flowers that Afa had +woven for him. Afa herself was clinging to one of his arms, Moa to +the other, as he went round to the eastern spur of the hill; and Ola +and Ispa and many others were footing around lightly and lingeringly, +appealingly. It was rather the thought of Thia’s love for him than of +his for her that withheld him from kissing these attendants before he +bade them good-night. For his own sake he wished, as he climbed the +hill, that they would not stand cooing so many farewells up to him so +loudly. Thia might not understand how true he was to her. He hoped she +was sleeping. But she was awake. Nor was he reassured by the laughter +with which, after a moment, she greeted him. She was looking at his +head. He became suddenly aware that he had not shed that chaplet. He +snatched it off. She laughed the more, but with no kindness in the +sound of her laughter. + +‘O Thia,’ he said, after a search for words, ‘be not wroth against +those maidens! I love none of them.’ + +‘Is that not cruel of you, O Thol? Do they not love you?’ + +‘Though they love me, O Thia, I swear to you that I love not them.’ + +‘Why should you not?’ she laughed. ‘Are you so foolish that you think I +should be sorry?’ + +‘O Thia,’ he rebuked her, ‘you speak empty words. You speak as though +you did not love me.’ + +‘I have long ceased to love you, O Thol,’ she said in a low voice. + +He stared at her blankly in the moonlight. His slow mind strove hard. +‘But you are my wife,’ he said at last. ‘I am your husband. O Thia, is +it indeed true that you have ceased to love me?’ + +‘O Thol, it is most true.’ + +Then, by stress of the great anger that rose in him, his mind worked +more quickly--or rather his tongue was loosened. He told Thia that +she had never loved him. She denied this coldly. He said that she had +never understood him. She denied this warmly. He reminded her that even +when she was a little girl she had once called him a coward; and this +too she denied; but he maintained that it was so; and she reminded him +that after he had been beaten by his master for seeing the dragon he +said that she too ought to have been beaten for seeing the dragon; +and he denied this; but she persisted that it was so; and he then said +that she ought to have been beaten; and she replied that she could be +now, and she challenged him to beat her; but he did not accept her +challenge; and this, she said, proved that he was a coward; and he +asked her to repeat this, and she repeated it, and he then reminded her +that he had slain the dragon; and she, stamping her foot, said she only +wished the dragon had slain him; and she made a face at him, and rushed +out of the cave, and if there had been a door she would have slammed +it; and really he was quite glad that she had gone; and after she had +run far she lay down upon the grass and slept till dawn, and then, +rising and brushing the dew off her arms and legs, went in search of +some lonely spot where she should build her a hut of clay and wattles. + +And perhaps it was a sign of her alien blood that the spot chosen by +her was in what we call Soho. It was the spot on which, many years +later, many of my coævals were to dine in the little Restaurant du +Bon-Accueil, half-way along Gerrard Street. Gone, as utterly as Thia’s +hut, is the dear little Restaurant du Bon-Accueil. But again I must +hark back. + + * * * * * + +‘Very surely,’ thought Thol, some moments after the sun had waked him +and shown him the empty cave and brought back last night to his memory, +‘I shall find her by the pond.’ + +Thither, with much dignity of gait, but with the promise of forgiveness +on his brow, he presently went. She was not there. There only her geese +were. + +These he unpenned and let go into the pond, and then, having freed his +goats also, sat down and waited. He waited all day long. She did not +come. Nor was she there for him in the cave when he went back to it at +sunset. Neither was she at the pond next morning. Not even her geese +were there now. + +That she had wanted them, and not him, was a bitter thought to Thol. +He had not, till now, known how much he loved her. That she had been +here this morning, or in the night, made the ground somehow wonderful +to him. But he frowned away from his brow the promise of forgiveness. +He would not forgive Thia now. Still less would he go in quest of her. +He freed his goats, guided them to some long grass and, sitting down, +tried to take an intelligent interest in their doings and a lively +interest in their welfare, and not wonder where Thia was. + +For three whole days he tried hard--tried with all that fixity of +purpose which had enabled him at last to slay the dragon. It was Afa’s +visit that unmanned him. + +Not she nor any other of those maidens had ever come to him at the pond +in Thia’s time. If they happened to pass that way, they would gaze +straight before them, or up at the sky, greeting neither the husband +nor the wife, and simpering elaborately, as much as to say, ‘We are +unworthy.’ But now it was straight at Thol that the approaching Afa +simpered. And she said, ‘I am come to be the goat-herd’s help!’ + +He marvelled that there was a time when he had thought he might have +loved one of these maidens. He was not even sure that he knew which of +them this one was. He was sure only that he despised them all. And this +sentiment so contorted his mild face that there was nothing for Afa to +do but toss her head and laugh and leave him. + +Presently the look of great scorn in his face was succeeded by a look +of even greater love. He arose and went in search of Thia. But he did +not in his quest of her throw dignity to the winds. He did not ask +anybody where he should find her. He walked slowly, as though bent on +no errand. It was near sunset when at length he espied his lost one +near to a lonely pool at the edge of the forest. + +She did not see him. She sat busily plaiting wattles. There was a great +pile of these beside her. And in and around the pool were her geese. + +It was they that saw him first, and at sight of him they began to +quack, as though in warning. Thia looked up quickly and saw Thol. He +held out his arms to her, he strode towards her, calling her name; but +she was up, she was gone into the darkness of the forest. + +Long he peered into that darkness, and called into it, and even groped +through it, but vainly. + + * * * * * + +For people who are not accustomed to think, thought is a fatiguing +affair. Thol, despite his robust body, was tired when he awoke next +morning, for he had spent a great part of the night in wondering how to +win back his wife. In the days before he slew the dragon he had been a +constant thinker. Little by little he was now to regain the habit. + +Step by step he reached the premiss that in order to find a means of +winning Thia back he must first make clear to himself why she had +ceased to love him. He put together what he could recall of the many +things that in the course of time she had said in anger against him. +And he came to the conclusion that he had displeased her most by +dwelling so much upon his great deed. He would dwell less upon it, +try even to forget it. But this would not suffice. How was she to know +that he was no longer dwelling as of yore? Perhaps he could do a second +great deed? There seemed to be none to do. He must nevertheless try to +think of one--some second great deed that would much please her. It was +for the homelanders’ sake that the first one had found favour in her +sight. And then somehow the homelanders had become less good because +of it. Thia had often said so. Of course she had never blamed him for +that. Still, perhaps she would not have ceased to love him if his deed +had not done harm. Was there no deed by which the harm could be undone? +Day by day, night by night, Thol went on thinking. + +After the lapse of what we should call a week or so, he began to act +also. + +He knew that there could be no great thickness of barrier between the +back of his cave and the back of the cave that had been the dragon’s; +for in his childhood he had often heard through it quite clearly the +sound of the voices of Gra and her children. To make in it now a +breach big enough to crawl through on hands and knees was the first +step in the plan that he had formed. With a great sharp stone, hour +after hour, daily, he knelt at work. Fortunately--for else must the +whole plan have come to naught--the barrier was but of earth, with +quite small stones in it. Nevertheless, much of strength and patience +had been exerted before the first little chink of daylight met Thol’s +eyes. + +It was a glad moment for him when, that same evening, at sunset, at +last he was able to crawl through into the western cave; but as he rose +and gazed around the soot-blackened lair he did not exult. His work +had but begun. And his work would never end while he lived. He prayed +earnestly to the sun that he might live long and always do his work +rightly. Also he prayed that Thia might soon again love him. + +That night, in his own cave, just as he was falling asleep, he had a +doubt which greatly troubled him. He arose and went forth to a place +where some ducks were. One of these he took and slew, and strode +away with it to the marshes. There he heaved it into the ooze. It was +quickly sucked down. This was well. + +On the next night he became a woodman; and many were the nights he +spent in going to and fro in the dark between his cave and the nearest +margin of the forest, lopping off great branches and bearing them away +for storage, and even uprooting saplings and bearing away these also, +and, with a flint axe, felling young trees, and chopping them into +lengths that were portable. He continued this night-work until both +caves were neatly stacked with wood enough to serve his purpose for a +longish while. + +And then--for he had thought out everything, with that thoroughness +which is the virtue of slow minds--he wove two thick screens of osiers +and withes, each screen rather bigger than either end of the tunnel. +On the evening when the second of these was finished, he made in the +dragon’s cave, not far from the left-hand side of the cave’s mouth, a +thick knee-high heap of branches and logs, some of them dry, others +green. He placed at the other side of the mouth two thick flat stones, +one upon the other. + +Back in his own cave, he smeared with sheep’s fat a certain great stick +of very dry pine-wood. + + * * * * * + +And on the following morning history began to repeat itself. With some +variations, however. For example, it was not a puny little boy but a +great strong man who, as the sun rose, came rushing with every symptom +of terror down the western side of the hill. And the man was not really +frightened. He only seemed so. + +He careered around the valley, howling now like one distraught. +Responsive sheep, goats, geese, what not, made great noises of their +own. From the mouths of caves and huts people darted and stood agape. +Thol waved his arms wildly towards the cave upon the hill. People saw a +great column of smoke climbing up from it into the sky. + +‘A dragon! Another dragon!’ was Thol’s burthen. + +People gathered round him in deep wonder and agitation. He told +them, in gasps, that he had come down early--very early--to look for +mushrooms--and had looked back and--seen a dragon crawling up the hill. +He said that he had seen it only for a moment or two: it crawled very +quickly--far more quickly than the old one. He added that it was rather +smaller than the old one--smaller and yet far more terrible, though its +smoke was less black. Also, that it held high its head, not scorching +the grass on its way. + +There was no panic. + +‘O Thol,’ said one, ‘we need not fear the dragon, for here are you, to +come between us and him.’ + +‘Here by this stream,’ said another, ‘we shall presently bury him with +great rejoicings, O high god.’ + +The crowd went down on its knees, thanking Thol in anticipation. But +he, provident plodder, had foreseen what would happen, and had his +words ready. ‘Nay, O homelanders,’ he said, plucking at his great +beard, ‘I am less young than I was. I am heavier, and not so brave. +Peradventure some younger man will dare meet this dragon for us, some +day. Meanwhile, let us tempt him with the flesh of beasts, as of yore, +hoping that so he will come but seldom into our midst.’ + +In consternation the crowd rose from its knees, and Thol walked quickly +away, with a rather shambling gait. + +The awful news spread apace. The valley was soon full. Long and +earnestly the great throng prayed to the sun that he would call the +dragon away from them. He did not so. Up, up went the steadfast smoke +from within the cave. Less black it certainly was than that of the +other dragon, but not less dreadful. Almost as great as the terror +that it inspired was the general contempt for Thol. Many quite old +men vowed to practise the needful stroke of the spear. All the youths +vowed likewise--yea, and many of the maidens too. It was well-known, +of course, that Thol had practised for a long while, and that any +haste would be folly; but such knowledge rather heartened than dejected +the vowers. Meanwhile, the thing to do was what the craven Thol had +suggested before he slunk away: to offer food as of yore. Shib, +bristling with precedents, organised the labour. Thol had said that +the dragon was a smaller one than the other. Perhaps therefore not so +much food would be needed. But it was better to be on the safe side and +offer the same ration. Up to the little shelf of ground in front of the +cave’s mouth were borne two goats, three ducks, two deer, three geese +and two sheep. + +All day long the valley was crowded with gazers, hopers, comforters of +one another, offerers-up of prayers. + +As day drew to its close, the tensity increased. Would this dragon wake +and eat at sunset, as that other had been wont to do? How soon would +appear through the smoke that glimpse of nether fire which proclaimed +that his head was out of the cave, alert and active? And would that +glow rise and fall, in the old way, twelve times, with the sound of the +clashed jaws? What was in store for the homeland to-night? + +None but Thol knew. + + * * * * * + +He, very wisely, had rested all day in preparation for the tasks of +evening and night. Two or three times, moving aside the screen that +kept the smoke out of his cave, he had crawled through the opening and, +drawing the other screen across the other side of it, had tended the +fire. For the rest, he had been all inactive. + +As twilight crept into the cave, he knelt in solemn supplication to the +departing sun. Presently, when darkness had descended, he struck two +flints, lit one end of his pine-wood staff, moved the screen aside, +drew a long deep breath, and crawled swiftly into the other cave. +Slowly he moved his torch from side to side of the cave’s mouth, along +the ground. He was holding it in his left hand, and in his right hand +was holding one of the two flat stones. After a pause, still kneeling, +he raised high the torch for a moment or two and then sharply lowered +it in the direction of one of the smoke-clouded animals. At the same +time he powerfully clashed the one stone down upon the other. Another +pause, and he repeated these actions exactly, directing the torch +towards the next animal. He performed them ten times in all. Then he +extinguished his torch and crept quickly home, puffing and spluttering +and snorting, glad to escape into clear air. + +When he had regained his breath, he crawled back to drag the carcasses +in. The roe and the buck he left where they were. He had calculated +that three nightly journeys to the marshes and back would be all that +he could achieve. First he would take the two sheep, one on each +shoulder; next, the goats; lastly the birds, three necks in either +hand. The buck and the roe would be too heavy to be carried together; +and for five journeys there would certainly not be time. It was for +this reason that he had described the dragon as smaller than the old +one, and had clashed the stones ten times only. + +From the valley rose sounds of rejoicing that all was well for the +homeland to-night. One by one, Thol transferred the carcasses to his +own cave. He waited there among them till the dead of night, when all +folk would be sleeping. Then, shouldering the two sheep, he sallied +forth down the hill and away to the marshes. + +He accomplished the whole of his night-work before the stars had begun +to fade. Then, having replenished and banked the fire, he lay down to +sleep. Some four hours later he woke to go and tend the fire again, and +then again slept. + + * * * * * + +It was a toilsome, lonesome, monotonous and fuliginous life that +Thol had chosen; but he never faltered in it. Always at nightfall he +impersonated the dragon, and in the small hours went his journeys to +the marshes; and never once did he let the fire die. + +The afternoons passed very slowly. He wished he could sally forth into +the sunshine, like other men. He paced round and round his cave, hour +after hour, a strange figure, dark-handed, dark-visaged, dark-bearded. + +In so far as they deigned to remember him at all, the homelanders +supposed he had gone away, that first morning, across the waters or +through the forests, to some land where he could look men in the face. + +Here he was, however, in their midst, a strenuous and faithful servant. + +He had a stern grim joy in the hardness of his life--save that he could +never ask Thia to share it with him. He had not foreseen--it was the +one thing he had not thought out well--how hard the life would be. +The great deed by which he had thought to bring Thia back to him must +forever keep them asunder. Thus he had done an even greater deed than +he intended. And his stern grim joy in it was thereby the greater. + + * * * * * + +Had she so wished, Thia might have become very popular and have +regained something of her past glory. After Thol’s confession of +cowardice she had instantly risen in the homelanders’ esteem. How very +right she had been to leave him! Friendly eyes and friendly words +greeted her. But when they all knelt praying the sun to call the dragon +away, she remained upright and mute. And afterwards, when she was asked +why, she said that it was well that the dragon should abide among them, +for thus would they all be the better, in heart and deed, and therefore +truly the happier, could they but know it. She said that whether or not +they could know it, so it was. + +These sayings of hers were taken in bad part, and she was shunned +because of them. This did not mar the joy she had in knowing that all +was well once more in the homeland. + +She felt herself not at all unblest in the quiet spinsterly life she +was leading, in and out of her trim new hut, with her dear flock of +geese about her. + +Of Thol, nowadays, she thought more gently. She felt that if he had +stayed in the homeland she would have gone back to him. It would have +been her bounden duty to be with him and to comfort him in his shame. +Indeed his shame made him dear to her once more. As the days passed +she thought more and more about him. It was strange that he had gone +from the homeland. No homelander ever had gone forth into the perils +of the lands beyond. If she herself, daughter of wanderers, had roved +away instead of building this hut to dwell in, she might not have much +marvelled at herself, less brave though she was than Thol. And Thol was +no longer brave. How had he, fearing a dragon smaller than that other, +conquered his fear of known and unknown things that were worse yet, far +worse yet? + +And one evening a strange doubt came to her. Might it not be that Thol +was still in the homeland? In one of all these dark forests he might be +living, with nuts and berries to support life. Or, she further guessed, +he might even be in his own cave, stealing out at night when all but +the watchmen on the other side of the hill were sleeping. This notion, +foolish though it seemed to her, possessed her mind. + +So soon as silence and sleep had descended on the homeland, Thia +herself stole out into the clear starlit night. Not far from the +eastern spur of the hill she lay down in a clump of long grass, and +thence, gazing up, watched the cave’s mouth steadily. + + * * * * * + +Some one presently came forth: and yes, it was Thol. Slowly he came +down the hill, with his head bent forward, with his hands up to his +bowed shoulders, and two burdens at his back--two goats, as Thia saw +when presently Thol turned aside southward. He looked very strange. His +hair and face seemed to have grown quite dark. And what was he doing +with those two goats? Thia lay still, with a fast-beating heart. She +felt that her voice would not have come, even had she tried to call to +him. + +She watched him out of sight, then rose to her feet and, hesitatingly, +went to the foot of the hill, and then, quickly and resolutely, went up +it and into the cave. + +Quick-witted though she was, the sight of three geese and three ducks +and of two sheep puzzled her deeply; and not less did she wonder at the +quantity of stacked wood. And what was that fence of osiers against the +wall? She moved it slightly and saw a great breach in the wall; and +through this some smoke came drifting in. And now her quick wits began +to work--but in such wise as to make her bewilderment the deeper. + +Suddenly, drawing a deep breath, she went down on her hands and knees, +and crawled rapidly through. + +She was soon back again. Blinking hard and shaking the smoke from +her nostrils, she went to breathe the clear air at the cave’s mouth. +But, good though this air was, she hardly tasted it. She had burst +out sobbing. She, who never in all her life had shed tears, sobbed +much now. But she remembered that tears make people’s eyes ugly. So +she controlled herself and dried her eyes vigorously. She had not +remembered that the palms of her hands must be all black from her +crawl. When she saw them, and knew what her face must be now, she burst +out laughing. And the sound made her feel very young, for it was long +since she had laughed. But, as she wished to please Thol’s eyes, she +retired to the back of the cave and crouched where she would scarcely +be seen by him when he came. + +He came at last, and then, very softly, she cried out to him, ‘Thol!’ + +He, brave though he was, started violently. + +‘Do not look at me, O Thol! Not yet! For my face is black and would +displease you. Look at me only after you have heard me. O Thol, if they +said now that you were a god, almost would I believe them. But if you +were a god your deed would be less great. The wonder is that you are +a man, and were once mine. O Thol, forgive me, keep me here with you, +need me!’ + +But he slowly answered, ‘Nay, O Thia, this cave is not now for a woman.’ + +‘Not for a woman that is your wife and lover? Think! Was it not for my +sake and for love of me that you thought to do what you are doing?’ + +‘Yea, O Thia. Yet, now that I am doing it, itself suffices me. I am +strong, and suffer not under the burden of it. The very heaviness of +it makes me glad. And now your knowledge of it gladdens me, too. But I +would not have you bear the least part of it with me. Go to your own +home!’ + +‘You speak firmly, O great dragon! Yet will not I obey you. Tell me of +your work. Is it to the marshes that you take the beasts and the birds?’ + +‘Yea. Begone, small dear one!’ And he stooped down to take the two +sheep. + +‘Once, long ago, you wished that a lad might help you in your hard +work. O Thol, I am as I was, trustier than any lad. It were better that +you should go twice, not thrice, every night, to the marshes. I will +always take the birds.’ And she rose to take them. + +But a thought, a very important thought, came to her, giving her pause. +And she said, ‘The fire must first be tended.’ + +‘It has no need yet,’ he answered. ‘I tend it when I come back from the +last journey.’ + +‘To-night it shall be tended earlier. And I will so tend it that it +shall last long.’ She was down on her knees and off into the smoke +before he could stop her. He followed her, protesting that such work +was not for her. She did it, nevertheless, very well. And presently, +side by side, he with two sheep, she with three birds’ necks in either +fist, they went forth into the starlight, and down away to the marshes. + +There, having duly sunk their burdens, they took each other by the +hand, and turned homeward. At one of the running brooks on their way +home, Thia halted. ‘Here,’ she said, ‘will I wash my face well. And do +you, too, O Thol, wash yours, so that when we wake in the morning mine +shall not displease you.’ + + * * * * * + +Every night Thia accompanied Thol on one of the two journeys; and +during the other she would go to the forest and gather wood, so that +there should always be plenty of fuel in hand. She was sorry to have +had to abandon her geese, for she felt they would not be as happy with +any one as they had been with her. Nothing else whatever was there +to mar her joy in the life that she and Thol were leading together, +and in the good that they were doing. It amused her to know that the +homelanders would think she had wandered away--she who was serving them +so well. Its very secrecy made her life the more joyous. + +Daily she prayed to the sun and other gods that she and Thol might live +to be very old and might never fail in their work. + +But the sun and those others were not good listeners. + +As the nights lengthened and the leaves began to fall, the mists over +the marshes and around them grew ever thicker. It was not easy to find +the way through them; and they were very cold, and had a savour that +was bitter to the tongue and to the nostrils. And one morning Thia, +when she woke, was shivering from head to foot, though she was in +Thol’s arms. She slipped away from him without waking him, and went not +merely to tend the fire but also to warm herself at it. All through the +morning she was shivering; and in the evening her hands became hot, as +did her face and all her body. She felt very weak. She could laugh no +more now at Thol’s disquietude. She lay down, but could not lie very +still. At about the time when they were wont to sally forth, she rose +up, feeling that even though she might not be able to carry the birds +to-night the journey would freshen her. She soon found that she was too +weak even to stand. Thol was loth to leave her; but she insisted that +the work must be done. Again and again, next day and during the next +night, she implored him that if she died he would not mourn her very +much and would not once falter in the work. He promised that he would +not falter. Other days and nights passed. It seemed to Thol that Thia +had ceased to know him. She did not even follow him with her eyes now. +One morning, at daybreak, soon after his return from the third journey, +she seemed, by her gaze, to know him. But presently she died in his +arms. + +On that night he went to the forest and dug a grave for his wife. Then, +returning to the cave, he took her in his arms, and carried her away, +and buried her. + +In the time that followed, he was not altogether lonely. He felt by day +that somehow she was in the cave with him still, and by night he felt +that she walked with him. He never faltered in the work. + +He faltered not much even when the marshes did to him as they had done +to Thia. Shivering in every limb, or hot and aching, and very weak, he +yet forced himself to tend the fire and at nightfall to brandish the +torch and clash the stones and drag in the beasts and birds. It irked +him that he was not strong enough to carry even one sheep away. Surely, +he would be strong again soon? For Thia’s sake, and for the homeland’s, +he wished ardently to live. But there came an evening when the watchers +in the valley saw no rising and falling, heard no clashing, of the +dragon’s jaws. + + * * * * * + +Would the dragon come forth to-night? The valley on the further side of +the stream was now thickly crowded. On the nearer side were many single +adventurers, with spears. Their prowess and skill were not tested. The +dragon came not forth. + +In the dawn it was noted that his smoke was far less thick than it was +wont to be. Soon it ceased altogether. What had happened? Perchance the +dragon was ailing? But even an ailing dragon would breathe. A great +glad surmise tremulously formed itself. Was the dragon dead? + +The surmise quickly became a firm belief--so firm that, in spite of +protests from the precise Shib, songs of thanksgiving were heartily +sung before the cave was approached and examined. + +People were much puzzled. The dead man lying at the cave’s mouth, +grasping in one hand a flat stone and in the other a charred staff, +was not quickly recognised as Thol, so black were his hair and skin; +nor was he at once known to have been the dragon. The quantities of +stacked wood, the tunnel into the cave where Thol had lived, did not +quickly divulge their meaning. Only after long arguments and many +conjectures did the homelanders understand the trick that had been +played on them. Why, with what evil intent, it had been played, they +were almost too angry to discuss at present. But certain words of +Thia’s were remembered; and it was felt that she herself perhaps had +put the trick into Thol’s mind and that this was why she had fled the +homeland. She had better not set foot in it again. + +Before the sun sank, Thol was buried without honour, and far from Thia. + +And before the sun sank many other times the homelanders were as they +had been before the coming of the true dragon, and as they had been +again before the false one was among them. + + +FINIS + + + + +And thus--does our tale end unhappily? I think not. After all, the +homelanders at large are rather shadowy to us. Oc and Loga, Shib and +Veo, Afa and her like, and all those others, all those nameless others, +do not mean much to us. It is Thol and Thia that we care about. For +their sake we wish that the good they did could have been lasting. But +it is not in the nature of things that anything--except the nature +of things--should last. Saints and wise statesmen can do much. Their +reward is in the doing of it. They are lucky if they do not live long +enough to see the undoing. It should suffice us that Thol and Thia +together in their last days knew a happiness greater than they had ever +known--Thol a greater happiness than in the days of his glory, and Thia +than in the days of hers. + + + PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY THE WHITEFRIARS PRESS, LTD., + LONDON AND TONBRIDGE. + + + + +FOOTNOTE: + +[A] Lest the reader assume that in the course of this narrative one or +both of Thia’s parents will return to claim her, let me at once state +that within a few months of her being left in the homeland her father +was killed by a lion, and her mother by a lioness, in what has since +become Shropshire. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: + + + Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. + + Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. + + Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. + + Archaic or variant spelling has been retained. + + New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the + public domain. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75341 *** |