The Dragon's Eye (7 page)

For the next few days, I got up early with Dr. Drake to go and study Weasel. On the second day, after watching her feed again, Dr. Drake let me track her to her lair and taught me how to tell the difference between fresh tracks, which are unbroken, and tracks that have crumbly edges or tiny bits of twig or grass over them, which are a day old or more. He made me crouch among the bracken, looking for signs of hidden tracks such as broken stems, or bits of slime where Weasel's tail had rubbed against the boles of trees. He also taught me how to track the knucker from upwind, so that she would not smell me coming.

When I reached Weasel's lair, I saw that it was dug among some tree roots by the edge of the stream, in one of the deepest parts of the forest. Small piles of what looked like fur and bones lay scattered round. I rushed to examine one, but Dr. Drake called me back.

“Daniel,” he said, “a dragonologist must remember to remain concealed when approaching a dragon, particularly one in its own lair. It can be highly dangerous to introduce yourself too soon. Even though this knucker knows me and is unlikely to attack us, you ought always to follow this practise so that you will be prepared if you have to attract the attention of an unknown dragon.”

I nodded, and Dr. Drake then reached into his bag and handed me two small parcels covered with waxed paper. One of them contained sliced onions, while the other was full of sausages.

“Now,” said Dr. Drake, “a dragon can often be tempted to the mouth of its lair by offering it a suitable gift. With a more intelligent specimen, such as Scorcher, this might involve something shiny, since European dragons love to collect treasure. However, he is only a juvenile, so it is unlikely that he is yet able to tell the difference between true gemstones and shiny bits of glass. Weasel is a much simpler creature, so food will have to suffice. I mixed up the onions and sausages overnight, so the onions should have taken on some of their smell. Throw them towards the mouth of the lair.”

I did this and was not surprised to see Weasel's head emerge from the hole, twisting about until she spied the parcel of onions, which she sniffed. She did not seem very pleased. In fact she came halfway out of her lair, padding to the left and right, arching her back and making a whining noise like an angry pig.

“Now,” said Dr. Drake, “throw the parcel of sausages.”

When the sausages landed, Weasel bent down and sniffed them, arched her back again, gave a sort of little whinny of pleasure, and gobbled them down in one go. Then she wriggled back into her lair.

“Now that Weasel knows we mean her no harm, we may move just a little closer,” said Dr. Drake.

We went over to examine one of the piles of bones and fur. It looked very much as though it had come from one of the rabbits.

“What do you make of that?” he asked.

“Well,” I suggested, “Weasel eats her food whole, so maybe she regurgitates what she can't digest, like an owl?”

“Indeed,” said Dr. Drake. “But you must be careful. Look.”

And he pointed with his stick to several small round drops of purple goo that had dripped onto the bones.

“That is knucker venom. As well as being able to kill its prey by constriction, the knucker also has a highly venomous bite. If you were to accidentally touch that venom with unbroken skin, it would not do much damage, but if it were to get into a cut or into your mouth or eyes, then you would have a problem. A small amount would most likely not kill you, but it would be a rather nasty experience and you would be incapacitated for several weeks.”

On the third day, Dr. Drake took me to the lair while Weasel was out hunting. He had brought a long coil of rope with a weight and a net on the end. He asked me to cast it into the mouth of the lair and see what I could bring out.

“Remember that we do not have much time,” he said. “We do not want to be caught stealing from a dragon's lair.”

I threw the weight down into the hole. It took the rope and the net with it. Although the rope was long, there was a jerk, as if the weight had fallen down a vertical shaft.

“Don't let go,” said Dr. Drake as nearly the whole of the rope disappeared down the hole. I gradually pulled it back out, hand over hand. The net must have caught something, for it felt heavy. At last I pulled the net out of the hole and dumped out its contents. I don't know what I had expected to find — treasure, perhaps, or maybe more rabbit bones, but all I found were several old glass bottles and about ten clay pipes.

“All right,” said Dr. Drake. “Now you must put it back.”

And so I used my stick to push the bottles and pipes back down the hole. Then Dr. Drake opened his leather bag and took out three more old-looking clay pipes and one of his empty linctus bottles and laid them near the mouth of the lair.

“The knucker will know we have been here, so perhaps leaving her some gifts will make up for it,” he said.

When we were on the way back home, Dr. Drake asked, “What do you make of that, Daniel?”

I didn't know what to answer.

“That knuckers like to smoke and drink?” I said, smiling.

“Dear me, Daniel,” said Dr. Drake, laughing. “Knuckers may be stupid in dragon terms, but they are not that stupid. The important thing to learn is that all dragons love to hoard treasure. Now, knuckers aren't very particular about what they hoard. They will take almost any small objects that humans leave lying round, as long as they can drag them into their lair. And all Weasel has managed to find is an old rubbish heap.”

On the fourth day, Dr. Drake announced that Darcy and Beatrice were going to come along. By now I was spending the afternoons discussing with Beatrice what she had seen and comparing it to my own experiences. Beatrice was making great strides with Darwin and had copied several of the dragon pictures into her record book.

“I wish there were a book on dragonology,” she said as we were waiting by the front door for Dr. Drake to appear. “I'd like to see pictures of some of the different species of dragon Dr. Drake talks about.”

Darcy arrived. He had overheard Beatrice, and he smiled.

“Well, tomorrow you may be in luck,” he said. “Dragon school is starting. This will be our last day before classes begin and today, Dr. Drake wants me to take you out into the forest. Our goal is to find out just how far Weasel ranges, so we have to look out for all the signs that we can. And we have to be careful,” he added.

“Isn't Dr. Drake coming with us?” asked Beatrice.

“No,” said Darcy. “But don't worry. I'm sure we'll be safe. Weasel will recognise your smell by now, and we have a map of the forest.”

He led the way, but instead of heading towards Weasel's lair, we headed towards the part of the stream where I had first seen her.

“Now,” said Darcy, “since no one has managed to record any knucker tracks farther down the stream than here, we can be pretty sure this is as far as she goes. Dr. Drake wants us to estimate her range and mark it on the map. Has anyone got any ideas?”

Beatrice thought for a moment and said, “How about plotting Weasel's lair on the map, and then setting off in a circle around it, looking for tracks and signs?”

Darcy and I both agreed, and we headed towards the lair. After marking it on the map, we set off through the forest in a series of spirals that got larger and larger, searching the forest in a fairly wide band. It was difficult, but occasionally we would come across faint bits of purple gloop, or darker bits that had dried on trees, or parts of the forest where there seemed to be fewer rabbits. Each time we did so, Beatrice, who had commandeered the map from Darcy, made a small
X.
It took us a couple of hours, but as our circles ranged farther out into the forest, we soon came to areas where there were no more signs of dragon activity. To do the job more quickly, we had spread out, and every five minutes we shouted to each other to keep in contact.

“Daniel! Don't go too far off,” Darcy shouted to me when I had gone about two hundred yards on my quest to find bits of purple gloop in the woods.

“I won't!” I shouted back. But then I saw something just a bit farther on that intrigued me, so I went to investigate. It was a tall fence that had been broken down. It seemed to be an enclosure of some kind. Just beyond it were several trees that had long gashes scored in them. I could tell that the gashes were quite recent, because sap was still dripping from the cuts. I assumed that they were evidence of the knucker sharpening its claws, but I wasn't sure, since I hadn't seen any other trees like that. I took out my record book and had begun to sketch the gashes when Darcy and Beatrice came running up.

“Didn't you hear us calling?” said Beatrice.

“Look what I've found,” I said, pointing to the broken fence and the claw marks.

Darcy looked rather shocked when he saw the fence.

“We've gone too far,” he said.

“But weren't these gashes made by Weasel?” I asked.

“No, that's not a knucker. Knuckers don't sharpen their claws like that. They use bits of stone or flint, or the bricks around the edge of wells.”

Suddenly, there was a thunderous roar. We all jumped. It was much too loud to have come from Weasel.

“It must be another dragon!” I said.

“Let's go,” said Darcy.

“Shouldn't we find out what it is?” I asked.

“No,” said Darcy. “We must get home as quickly as possible.”

And he would say no more but led us back towards Castle Drake as fast as he could. I looked back. A plume of grey smoke was rising up through the trees.

When we arrived, we were greeted with the sight of a carriage coming up the driveway.

“That will be Billy and Alicia,” said Darcy. “Say hello to them for me, won't you?” And he rushed into the house.

The carriage that pulled up to the front door of Castle Drake looked very smart and the boy and girl who got down from it were well dressed, the boy in an Eton jacket and the girl in a long dress that did not look at all suitable for tramping about in an overgrown forest.

“Daniel Cook, I presume?” said the boy. “Delighted. And your sister, of course.” At which he shook us both by the hand and continued, “Billy's the name. This is my sister.”

The girl shook us both by the hand as well and said shyly, “I'm Alicia.”

“And I'm Beatrice,” said Beatrice.

“And jolly good dragonologists you'll make, I expect,” said Billy. “Is Dr. Drake about?”

But when we went into the house, there was no sign of Dr. Drake or Darcy or even Mademoiselle Gamay.

“Well, I am sure they are going to be back soon,” said Billy. “Are you members of the S.A.S.D. yet?”

I didn't know what the S.A.S.D. was, so I shook my head.

“I don't think so,” said Beatrice.

“Never mind,” he said. “I expect you will be joining soon enough.”

“Joining what?” asked Beatrice.

“The S.A.S.D., of course,” said Billy.

“It means the Secret and Ancient Society of Dragonologists,” said Alicia.