GutCheck gave Strummer a disgusted look. “More like eighty against ten, if you ask me,” he said, “and armed better than we are.”
They moved on another thirty yards or so, pushing carefully through dense vegetation, every nerve tingling. Then they saw brush moving, as if blown by a powerful wind. A moment later there was a crashing noise, mingled with splashing mud and water. Though it was invisible, there was no doubt that the Maggon was nearby.
Cold, clammy sweat trickled down Strummer’s neck as his head slowly swiveled, trying to locate the monster. Then, his eyes froze. The huge creature was reared up on its hind legs, towering above their heads, its long wet body glistening where shafts of sun touched it. Watching in weird fascination, Strummer’s eyes watched the green leaves shimmering against the monster’s yellow body.
The Maggon opened its mouth, revealing the rows of razor-sharp teeth. It was clearly preparing to attack. Seeing that Strummer, in the lead, was in extreme danger, GutCheck gave a ferocious cry and leaped forward, swinging his machete.
There was a mad rush, a vicious howling, and GutCheck was thrown hard to the ground. But no jaws were clapped on him, and no claws ripped at him. The action was elsewhere. Racing and thrashing in every direction, the Maggon was matched in a fight to the death that neither GutCheck nor Strummer were part of. Raging and struggling through the grass and brush, the monstrous lizard ran here and there, trying to knock off a Coyote who was firmly fastened to its back!
“BorMane!” GutCheck howled, for indeed it was me.
I had heard the trouble developing and gone to investigate. When I came upon the situation, I saw that desperate action was necessary, and I leaped on the Dragon’s neck, locking my legs around it. With my free paws, I desperately tried to plunge my harpoon into the beast. No matter how the Dragon thrashed and struggled, he couldn’t throw me off, but his lightning-fast movement made it difficult to land a blow.
Savage hissing and snapping continued for many minutes, as the Dragon lashed its body and ran hither-thither through the brush. Now the struggle was hidden, now it burst into sight, as Strummer and the others tried to attack the creature. The Maggon’s fantastic leaping and thrashing, however, made it even harder for those on the ground to land a telling blow, than for me, firmly planted, as I waw, on the beast’s back. As the minutes went by, it became clear that the Dragon’s potent weapons of tooth and claw were useless against me—indeed, at times, I was almost laughing at the wild ride I was taking. Even if I couldn’t land a killing blow with my harpoon, by simply hanging on tightly, I was gradually wearing the frenzied monster down.
The huge beast continued to thrash through the tall grass and trees, but its speed was now only half what it had once been. Then it came to a stop, quivering and gasping for breath. Keeping my grasp grimly around the monster’s neck, I bided by time, while my adversary lashed his head, vainly snapping the air with his vicious teeth. Racing off into the brush again, the Maggon hissed and thrashed. Then the monster screamed, the brush crackled and snapped, and all was quiet.
Strummer, GutCheck, and the others dashed into the bush, and found me standing beside the dead Maggon, breathing hard. My harpoon was buried deep in the ear of the creature.
“You sure arrived in a nick of time,” Strummer said gratefully. “I thought you were supposed to be filling the water casks!”
“We were down the creek doing exactly that,” BorMane replied, “but it sounded like you all were in a spot of trouble, so I came to investigate. When I got here, looked more like that beastie was fixing to make lunch of you.”
“Well, on that cheery note,” GutCheck grinned, “let’s figure out how to get this carcass back to the beach. Looks like it’ll make a great feast!”
“We’ll need help,” I told him, “it’s more than we can handle.”
“You stay here,” Strummer offered, “I’ll go to the beach and bring more of the crew to help.”
Within an hour, Strummer returned with a two dozen more seabeasts laughing and guffawing with a tremendous noise. When the news of what had happened reached the rest of the crew, so many beasts wanted to help haul the carcass back, that lots were cast for the honor. It was one of those times when hoots, hollers, and general riot sound like an odd sort of music.
“There we go, you famished seabeasts!” I laughed, as the Maggon carcass was raised into the air, and began to move through the brush.