A Dragon's Tale

The Dragon was lonely lately, leaving his home cave at times, and wandering about the countryside looking for someone to befriend. But he frightened the birds that flew up in a frenzy, off into the distance to alight chattering in other trees. Cats and dogs skittered into their master’s dwellings to hide under the beds or behind the stoves. People grabbed pitchforks and ran inside, slammed and bolted their doors. Cows and horses calmly continued chewing their grass meals, barely glancing at him. But the laughter of children was silenced whenever he came near to their dwellings. He knew he didn’t belong in any of these places.
Dejected, Dragon lumbered off, back into the low mountains nearby. He returned to the cave that is his home, big enough to accommodate his bulky body, but not too big. He often gathered some more grasses to soften his bed. Every day he foraged for fruits, nuts, roots and tender branches to sustain him. He would sleep through the winter just like the bears and other hibernating animals do. He didn’t breathe fire like some of his relatives. He was just an ordinary outsized dragon, with a large body, long tail with spikes, head and mane of dark hair, rough skin, and long nails on feet and paws. During his lumbering walks his head moved slowly side to side, watching for food and for friends, finding the first but not the second. Every evening he returned to his den to sleep alone. Though he had kind eyes, no one stayed around long enough to see that quality in him.
“I am fine, just as I am!” Dragon tried to convince himself of this. “I like being alone. Who needs company anyway? They just eat my food and go off anyway. Company gets in the way and keeps me awake telling stories at night, or they fall asleep and snore. I am better off as I am.” So day after day he sat alone outside the mouth of the cave, doodling pictures in the dust, erasing them, and starting over.
Every day Dragon would lumber down to the stream not far from his lair and wallow there for hours. He would spread himself out in the shallow water, slap the stream happily, flap his hands on the surface to frighten the little fish away, and thoroughly enjoy himself. The routine of foraging for food, doodling in the dust and bathing in the stream filled his days for years.

Thunder was rumbling down the valley one night, with enough cold rain to drive Dragon into his cave. Every now and then a lightning flash would light up even the darkness of his cave. Dragon heard the scrabbling steps of a horse just at the mouth of his cave, and looking up, he saw in the flash of lightning a human form on a horse, clad in dark clothing, hair streaming down at its sides.
“May we enter?” asked the figure on behalf of himself and his horse.
“I suppose,” answered the Dragon. “You are not afraid of me?”
“Should I be?” responded the figure.
“No, of course not,” replied the Dragon gruffly. “But most humans are.” He laid his long jaw down again along his forelegs, keeping his eyes on the visitor.
The rider and horse continued into the cave, the horsing picking his footing with some care over the smooth rock. The dark figure alighted and seated himself on a boulder, not far from the mouth of the cave but well enough in to avoid getting wet. He let the reins drop there, pulled some treats from his pockets and fed them to his mount.
“By what name shall I call you?” asked the Dragon, with little curiosity.
“You may address me as Wizard. So this is your home?” queried the figure.
“Well, yes” replied the Dragon, looking about a little, then back at the Wizard. “What of it? It’s dry and warm enough, good for the winter sleep. I don’t really need anything more.”
“Ah, well, it’s a bit sparse. Have you anything for me to eat?”
“I don’t save up anything, but just eat as it the food presents itself during the day. No food here, then no other creatures to worry over robbing me.”
“Then”, said the Wizard, “I shall have to provide for myself.” He pulled a sack from under his cloak, and loosening the drawstring, reached in for a loaf of bread and some cheese, and a flagon of liquid. “I shall share with you, if you’re willing.” The Dragon’s head came up in curiosity when the sack appeared.
“Don’t mind if I do have a taste. With my appetite there will hardly be enough in that bag for two of us,” the Dragon laughed.
The Wizard broke the bread and cheese into two parts, laying the larger parts in each case to the Dragon’s boulder, just between them. They ate quietly, savoring the flavors. The flagon was more of a problem, as there were no tumblers about.
“Here, you go first, and I will finish it,” offered the Wizard. Being very agreeable to that, the Dragon drank the flagon to its bottom, and returned it to the Wizard.
The Wizard promptly drank too, and wiping his mouth, commented about how thirsty he had been! Dragon was definitely amazed. He was also ashamed of himself for being so greedy. “That was no way to treat a friend,” he thought. “I can do better.”
“ You have been very kind to share with me,” said the Dragon. “I thank you.”
“Think nothing of it. I am grateful for a dry place in the storm. Thank YOU.”
Perhaps it was the drumming of the rain, or the quiet now that the thunder and lightning had passed, but the Dragon grew very sleepy, and letting out a great sigh, settled his great head along his forelegs again and fell fast asleep.

“Pssst, wake up!” Dragon was disturbed by an irritating little voice, very near to his right ear. “You’re crushing my tail!” wailed the small voice. “Move, you great oaf!” Dragon’s eyes were open now, and he lifted his head and turned to the sound, to find a gecko nearby, and no sign of Wizard and his horse.
“No one shares my cave with me! What are you doing here?” rumbled the Dragon.
“Well, I thought I could get the crumbs of the bread and cheese away safely enough, but you moved and pinned me here for the whole night. Now I am quite ready to leave, thank you.” The Gecko slithered slowly in the direction of the mouth of the cave, hoping thus to escape with as little fuss as possible.
“Wait a minute.” The Dragon’s brain was slowly recognizing something. Along the edge of the cave in the low hanging area, too low for a dragon, there was a path, a well used one, smooth but narrow. Dragon could see that others are sharing his cave. They must be passing him by all the time! Who? Where? He put his forepaw right in the path of the Gecko. “Stop!” he commanded. “How do you come to be here?”
“Actually, Dragon, we share this cave as our home, you and me and my family, and a number of others. We stay out of sight in hopes that we will not aggravate you. Are you a vegetarian by any chance?” Gecko looked at Dragon from the corners of his eyes, but mostly facing the entrance for an escape when the chance should become available.
“You live HERE, with ME?” Dragon had thought himself entirely alone. “How long have you lived here with me?” he asked.
“We were here first. Your Mother and Father came into this cave to escape a storm, and we heard them when they left. They left you here, I think, to search for food. They told you to stay here safely until they returned. But they never did come back so I guess you are on your own. Finally you began to come and go, I suppose to get your own food and drink. Of course, you grew considerably bigger too, and since you occupied only the center of the cave, we had no problem remaining around the edges. You never seem to notice us at all, even when we accidentally trod upon your tail or toes.”
“Did they abandon me here, do you know?” asked Dragon.
“I have no idea about that, really. But it has all worked out, so far. We will certainly stay out of your way.”
Dragon was beginning to enjoy having conversations. This was not a bad arrangement after all.
“Well, then, promise that you will come every night and talk with me. Then I will agree that you can stay in the cave.” Dragon thus laid out his command.
Gecko thought the Dragon foolish to think he had control over this situation, but it hardly mattered. A little chat with a Dragon in the evening might be a fine way to pass a few minutes.
“Right-o,” the Gecko agreed. “Just a little evening chat. But for now, I am off to search for seeds and such. Later.” Dragon was amazed at how fast Gecko could move. He was out of sight in a moment. Dragon looked about but didn’t catch sight of any others, although he thought he caught a slight movement beyond the rocks to his far right.
As he approached the cave entrance, Dragon was amazed at the amount of noise he heard out there. Birds called raucously back and forth, with the Crows arguing the loudest of all. Once out of the cave, he noted the frenzy of the bees and butterflies in the warm freshened air. In the distance he could hear the sound of axe falling against a tree, perhaps a farmer clearing his field. The world was full of activity!
“What a beautiful day,” he thought. He reached up high for leaves of the nearby trees, munched contentedly for a while. ‘I do not know how I came to be here, or why, but this is indeed a wonderful moment.” Since Dragon’s thinking is not particularly long or deep, he just held on to that thought for the whole morning and into the afternoon, when he went for his time in stream. He kept that thought alive while he lounged in the cool water, watching the birds take their baths too.
Back at the mouth of cave he paused, and noticed that all his doodles were messed up. The horse must have trod them, and the coming and goings of Gecko’s must have further scrabbled them. But Dragon didn’t care much. He was really looking forward to the promised chat tonight. And he was still holding tight to the thought: “This is a wonderful moment.”









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