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.