Civilization, Western -- Fiction; France -- Civilization -- Fiction; Penguins -- Fiction; Satire
However, the inhabitants of Alca began to take courage. The labourers
of Dombes and the neatherds of Belmont swore that they themselves would
be of more avail than a girl against the ferocious beast, and they
exclaimed as they stroked the muscles on their arms, “Let the dragon
come!” Many men and women had seen him. They did not agree about his
form and his figure, but all now united in saying that he was not as
big as they had thought, and that his height was not much greater than
a man’s. The defence was organised; towards nightfall watches were
stationed at the entrances of the villages ready to give the alarm; and
during the night companies armed with pitchforks and scythes protected
the paddocks in which the animals were shut up. Indeed, once in the
village of Anis some plucky labourers surprised him as he was scaling
Morio’s wall, and, as they had flails, scythes, and pitchforks, they
fell upon him and pressed him hard. One of them, a very quick and
courageous man, thought to have run him through with his pitchfork; but
he slipped in a pool and so let him escape. The others would certainly
have caught him had they not waited to pick up the rabbits and fowls
that he dropped in his flight.
Those labourers declared to the Elders of the village that the
monster’s form and proportions appeared to them human enough except for
his head and his tail, which were, in truth, terrifying.
XI. THE DRAGON OF ALCA
(_Continuation_)
On that day Kraken came back to his cavern sooner than usual. He took
from his head his sealskin helmet with its two bull’s horns and its
visor trimmed with terrible hooks. He threw on the table his gloves
that ended in horrible claws—they were the beaks of sea-birds. He
unhooked his belt from which hung a long green tail twisted into many
folds. Then he ordered his page, Elo, to help him off with his boots
and, as the child did not succeed in doing this very quickly, he gave
him a kick that sent him to the other end of the grotto.
Without looking at the fair Orberosia, who was spinning, he seated
himself in front of the fireplace, on which a sheep was roasting, and
he muttered:
“Ignoble Penguins. . . . There is no worse trade than a dragon’s.”
“What does my master say?” asked the fair Orberosia.
“They fear me no longer,” continued Kraken. “Formerly everyone fled at
my approach. I carried away hens and rabbits in my bag; I drove sheep
and pigs, cows, and oxen before me. To-day these clod-hoppers keep a
good guard; they sit up at night. Just now I was pursued in the village
of Anis by doughty labourers armed with flails and scythes and
pitchforks. I had to drop the hens and rabbits, put my tail under my
arm, and run as fast as I could. Now I ask you, is it seemly for a
dragon of Cappadocia to run away like a robber with his tail under his
arm? Further, incommoded as I was by crests, horns, hooks, claws, and
scales, I barely escaped a brute who ran half an inch of his pitchfork
into my left thigh.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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