ANGUS & THE DRAGON

“No...I’m a Turnebull. I must be brave”, he thought. Taking a deep breath Angus continued toward the pit. “A'm gonna help ye”, he said weakly. “Dinnae eat me, ok?” Upon hearing his voice, the animal stopped struggling. Angus peered into the pit and gasped. Crying out he stumbled backwards landing on his arse. The trapped animal let out a roar; 30 foot flames shot out of the pit. Angus scrambled back to the wooded area where he was picking berries. His heart racing, he reclined against a tree to catch his breath. He had heard stories of dragons, but he had never seen one. King James V had ordered their extinction over a century ago. His great-great grandfather, Uilleam Turnebull, was said to have slayed the last. The dragon began to whimper like an injured dog. Gathering his courage again, Angus crawled back to the pit, laying as low as he could. “A must be a galoot”, he mumbled. Ever so quietly, he peeked into the hole. He could see that the pit was narrow which caused the beast’s wings to fold upward. Because of this, the dragon could barely move. “I coud brin back a shovel and make the hole bigger, but whit will the dragon dae tae me once it is free?”, he wondered. “It looks hungry.” Suddenly an idea hit him. “It DOES look hungry! How aboot a nice side o lamb stuffed wi crushed poppy! That oucht tae calm ye down!”, he shouted excitedly. “Oop!”, Angus slapped a hand over his mouth as the dragon looked his way. Jumping up from where he was laying, Angus took off running toward the woods as fast as his legs could carry him. He swooped up his basket of berries and headed back to the castle.

“Whit took ye so long?”, asked Agnes looking cross. “The pie needs time tae cool.” The ol’ cook looked him over. “Yer a pure nick! Whits happened tae ye?” Angus looked down at his dirt stained clothes. For a brief moment, he thought about telling her what he discovered. “Well go on! Git yerself cleanit up! Yer father will be expectin’ ye in the dinin’ hall”, she said. “Ay, Nan!”, Angus replied giving her a quick peck on the cheek. The angry look on her face melted into a grin. That was all it took. She couldn’t stay angry with him, and he knew it. Angus changed into his best white tunic, vest, and tartan wrap then hurried to the dining hall. The family was already seated, talking about the day’s events and passing around the whiskey. He quickly took his seat. Uncle William looked his way. “Leuk wha has finally decidit tae grace us wi his presence!”, he exclaimed giving Angus a heavy slap on the back that nearly knocked his breath out. Angus winced. “Guid evenin’, Uncle. Co-latha breith sona”, responded Angus with the traditional birthday greeting. Uncle William gave him a nod and went back to pouring his whiskey. “Where hae ye been, Gus?”, his father asked. His father had always called him by his nickname “Gus”. He only used his full name when Angus was in trouble. “Nan asked me tae pick some blaeberries for Uncle’s pie”, he replied. “Guid lad”, said Father giving him a wink. “Agnes is lucky to hae ye helpin’ her. She doesnae git around as guid these days.” Dinner was brought out and everyone dug in. Agnes’ pie was the best part of the meal.

After everyone retired to their chambers for the night, Angus crept down to the kitchen to gather what he needed to put the dragon to sleep. He found Agnes’ apothecary jars and slid the one filled with crushed poppy into a sack. He then headed out back to the meat house. A freshly skinned lamb was hanging on a hook. Angus got to work slicing openings in the meat and stuffing poppy into the creases. “How much poppy daes it tak tae put a dragon tae sleep?”, he wondered. He decided he should use the whole jar. After dressing the lamb, Angus slid a large sack around the corpse and lifted it off the hook. “Nan isnae gonna be happy tae find tomorrow's dinner missin.” Angus grabbed a shovel from the corner of the room, slung the sack of meat over his shoulder, and headed out the door. “Whit are ye doing?” asked a small voice from behind as he was closing the meat house door. Startled, Angus dropped his sack and whirled around. “Whit are ye doin’ up?!”, demanded Angus. His younger cousin, Alick, put his hands on his hips and replied, “A wis goin’ tae the loo when I saw ye sneakin’ out the door...whit are YE doin’?” Angus looked at his cousin, then down at the sack, then back at his cousin. What could he tell Alick? Alick was 4 years Angus’ junior. He was short and chubby with a wild mop of red hair and fair skin covered in freckles. Being the youngest in the clan and not yet having the physique of the men, Alick tended to look up to Angus rather than tease him like the others. “It would be nice tae have a confidant”, thought Angus. He had been dying to tell someone. Could he trust Alick to keep a secret? What should Angus do:

  1. Tell Alick about the dragon?
  2. Do not tell Alick. Make up a story, instead.