Chapter 8/ The Expedition

CHAPTER 8: The Expedition

FOR EIGHT LONG WEEKS THE FLEET SAILED ON.
The Prince feared to meet on the ocean seas
Snatchgrin, riding along some breeze.
How distasteful to die a dragon treat!
Here was the plan. On the other side
of the dragon's island lay 'The Bay of Tigers.'
That was where the fleet would land,
sneaking soldiers onto the sand
and traveling onward to battle from there.
"The Bay of Tigers," said Nam one day,
"is the kind of place where you learn to pray.
Where tigers roam & hunt & bite,
unless you're ready for a tiger fight.
And that's what we're going to learn today!"
A dozen soldiers paid Nam heed on the
deck of the ship that was in the lead.
'The Parsifal' would hit land first.
The soldiers considered this fact a curse
and steeled themselves for the messy deed.

Nam didn't help with his tiger tales.
"Tigers have teeth twice as sharp as nails!"
(He'd never, in fact, seen a tiger before.)
"And this is the sound of a mad tiger's roar..."
The five other ships could hear Nam's wails.
From under the deck, Prince Follett appeared.
He witnessed exactly what he had feared-
Nam interfering with his command.
He ruled his soldiers with an iron hand,
especially whenever a big battle neared.
"Get up off your rears! Get back to your posts!
And YOU are testing the good will of your hosts!"
cried the Prince as he picked Nam up by the shirt,
which stunk to high heaven and was coated with dirt.
"I've had it to here with your boasts!
"You're an expert on dragons, and now tigers, too?
Well, I've just the job for someone like you,"
said the Prince as he dropped Nam onto the deck.
Nam crouched on one knee and rubbed his sore neck.
"You'll lead our shore party, that's what you'll do!"

Prince Follet strode off for the island was near.
"Prince Folly," Nam muttered,
but the Prince didn't hear.
Fully armed soldiers prepared landing boasts,
thinking of tigers and fangs in their throats.
One of them offered Nam a small spear.
"I don't need a weapon," said Nam with great pride.
"Unlike the Prince, I've got brains on my side."
In fact, Nam would have the upper hand
of all the troops when they hit the sand.
He'd be safely aloft riding Borstal Bold's hide.
Borstal Bold had a ship all his own,
one that had nearly sunk like a stone
when they'd loaded the great beast onto the boat.
Fortunately, the ship stayed afloat,
though whenever he moved the timbers would moan.
'The Beastie Boat,' as it was called,
had a crew of one, named 'Lucky the Bald.'
He was pilot and deckhand and keeper in one,
a job that the others would never have done.
But Lucky, he liked the strange cargo he hauled.

PERHAPS BECAUSE LUCKY WAS A LITTLE STRANGE, TOO.
On Lucky's whole body not a single hair grew.
He had the skin of a baby at age 65 -
"I'm one of the youngest old men alive,"
Lucky the Bald would say to you.
Lucky had also another trait.
"Rub Lucky's head and improve your fate,"
to some unfortunate soul he would say.
"And then you'll have a better day."
And their lives improved beginning that date.
But only a few could rub Lucky's head.
The people he chose or the ones who said:
'Lucky, I'm at wit's end!'
Then he might listen, only then he might bend.
Most of the time he turned you down instead.
Lucky had been a ship's pilot for years.
He'd seen much of the world and
heard much with his ears.
But never before had he seen such a beast
as the one that the little man brought from the East,
to a land consumed with dragon fears.

'Snatchgrin, Snatchgrin go away.
Don't ever come another day!
Fall from the skies, drown in the seas.
Slip to your doom from an errant breeze.
Snatchgrin, Snatchgrin, perish we pray!'
"It won't be easy to land this ship,"
said Lucky one day, as he pulled on his lip.
He addressed his remarks to Borstal Bold,
who chewed on some sea oats down in the hold.
"It'll be a rough landing that ends this trip!"
In fact, Lucky planned to run aground.
No other solution had been found
for getting Borstal Bold to shore.
It wouldn't be a simple chore
Said Lucky: "I'd hate to see you drowned."
Borstal Bold uncurled his snout.
Lifting it up, he rolled it out.
Lucky bent his tall head down.
"Give it a rub, that'll get you to town."
Though Lucky, for once, felt a little doubt.

THE MORNING ARRIVED, THE ISLAND DREW NEAR.
Fortunately, the weather was clear.
Landing boats dropped from five other ships
while Lucky, his fingers a-twitch on his hips,
wished that the island had some kind of pier.
The Beastie Boat coasted straight toward the beach.
"This kind of landing the books sure don't teach,"
Lucky said as the hull started scraping on rocks.
Then the boat suffered a couple of shocks.
The first was a crash, the second a screech.
Lucky had little time to experience dread
at Snatchgrin's appearance straight overhead.
A rock had ripped out a hole so large
that through it Borstal Bold could charge.
Exactly the idea in the great beast's head.
As water poured in, the beast lumbered out.
Then froze. His surroundings filled him with doubt.
He was under the water but on firm ground.
With nothing to breathe, Borstal Bold found,
until straight overhead he lifted his snout.

The snout broke the surface, he gulped down some air.
Borstal Bold walked as he kept it held there.
Meanwhile, Lucky abandoned his ship.
He'd come to the end of the vessel's long trip.
Lucky leaped! And latched onto Borstal Bold's hair.
The man & the beast were safest of all.
Overhead, they could hear Snatchgrin's call.
The dragon exulted as it cornered the fleet,
torching the boats and the men with its heat.
Picking out one here & there just to maul.
The once green sea turned a sickening red
on the bodies of soldiers mad sharks now fed.
The Parsifal burned until it sank.
Of the once proud fleet there was hardly a plank.
There remained only tears for the families to shed.
Snatchgrin wheeled & glided away,
he'd done enough devilry on that awful day.
He failed to notice two tiny specks
which slowly moved forward among the shipwrecks.
Toward the shore, the specks headed that way.

'Snatchgrin comes, Snatchgrin goes.
Bringing fire and leaving woes.
Snatchgrin lives so someone dies.
When will it end?
Who knows, who knows?'

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	back \| next CHAPTER 8: The Expedition FOR EIGHT LONG WEEKS THE FLEET SAILED ON. The Prince feared to meet on the ocean seas Snatchgrin, riding along some breeze. How distasteful to die a dragon treat! Here was the plan. On the other side of the dragon's island lay 'The Bay of Tigers.' That was where the fleet would land, sneaking soldiers onto the sand and traveling onward to battle from there. "The Bay of Tigers," said Nam one day, "is the kind of place where you learn to pray. Where tigers roam & hunt & bite, unless you're ready for a tiger fight. And that's what we're going to learn today!" A dozen soldiers paid Nam heed on the deck of the ship that was in the lead. 'The Parsifal' would hit land first. The soldiers considered this fact a curse and steeled themselves for the messy deed. Nam didn't help with his tiger tales. "Tigers have teeth twice as sharp as nails!" (He'd never, in fact, seen a tiger before.) "And this is the sound of a mad tiger's roar..." The five other ships could hear Nam's wails. From under the deck, Prince Follett appeared. He witnessed exactly what he had feared- Nam interfering with his command. He ruled his soldiers with an iron hand, especially whenever a big battle neared. "Get up off your rears! Get back to your posts! And YOU are testing the good will of your hosts!" cried the Prince as he picked Nam up by the shirt, which stunk to high heaven and was coated with dirt. "I've had it to here with your boasts! "You're an expert on dragons, and now tigers, too? Well, I've just the job for someone like you," said the Prince as he dropped Nam onto the deck. Nam crouched on one knee and rubbed his sore neck. "You'll lead our shore party, that's what you'll do!" Prince Follet strode off for the island was near. "Prince Folly," Nam muttered, but the Prince didn't hear. Fully armed soldiers prepared landing boasts, thinking of tigers and fangs in their throats. One of them offered Nam a small spear. "I don't need a weapon," said Nam with great pride. "Unlike the Prince, I've got brains on my side." In fact, Nam would have the upper hand of all the troops when they hit the sand. He'd be safely aloft riding Borstal Bold's hide. Borstal Bold had a ship all his own, one that had nearly sunk like a stone when they'd loaded the great beast onto the boat. Fortunately, the ship stayed afloat, though whenever he moved the timbers would moan. 'The Beastie Boat,' as it was called, had a crew of one, named 'Lucky the Bald.' He was pilot and deckhand and keeper in one, a job that the others would never have done. But Lucky, he liked the strange cargo he hauled. PERHAPS BECAUSE LUCKY WAS A LITTLE STRANGE, TOO. On Lucky's whole body not a single hair grew. He had the skin of a baby at age 65 - "I'm one of the youngest old men alive," Lucky the Bald would say to you. Lucky had also another trait. "Rub Lucky's head and improve your fate," to some unfortunate soul he would say. "And then you'll have a better day." And their lives improved beginning that date. But only a few could rub Lucky's head. The people he chose or the ones who said: 'Lucky, I'm at wit's end!' Then he might listen, only then he might bend. Most of the time he turned you down instead. Lucky had been a ship's pilot for years. He'd seen much of the world and heard much with his ears. But never before had he seen such a beast as the one that the little man brought from the East, to a land consumed with dragon fears. 'Snatchgrin, Snatchgrin go away. Don't ever come another day! Fall from the skies, drown in the seas. Slip to your doom from an errant breeze. Snatchgrin, Snatchgrin, perish we pray!' "It won't be easy to land this ship," said Lucky one day, as he pulled on his lip. He addressed his remarks to Borstal Bold, who chewed on some sea oats down in the hold. "It'll be a rough landing that ends this trip!" In fact, Lucky planned to run aground. No other solution had been found for getting Borstal Bold to shore. It wouldn't be a simple chore Said Lucky: "I'd hate to see you drowned." Borstal Bold uncurled his snout. Lifting it up, he rolled it out. Lucky bent his tall head down. "Give it a rub, that'll get you to town." Though Lucky, for once, felt a little doubt. THE MORNING ARRIVED, THE ISLAND DREW NEAR. Fortunately, the weather was clear. Landing boats dropped from five other ships while Lucky, his fingers a-twitch on his hips, wished that the island had some kind of pier. The Beastie Boat coasted straight toward the beach. "This kind of landing the books sure don't teach," Lucky said as the hull started scraping on rocks. Then the boat suffered a couple of shocks. The first was a crash, the second a screech. Lucky had little time to experience dread at Snatchgrin's appearance straight overhead. A rock had ripped out a hole so large that through it Borstal Bold could charge. Exactly the idea in the great beast's head. As water poured in, the beast lumbered out. Then froze. His surroundings filled him with doubt. He was under the water but on firm ground. With nothing to breathe, Borstal Bold found, until straight overhead he lifted his snout. The snout broke the surface, he gulped down some air. Borstal Bold walked as he kept it held there. Meanwhile, Lucky abandoned his ship. He'd come to the end of the vessel's long trip. Lucky leaped! And latched onto Borstal Bold's hair. The man & the beast were safest of all. Overhead, they could hear Snatchgrin's call. The dragon exulted as it cornered the fleet, torching the boats and the men with its heat. Picking out one here & there just to maul. The once green sea turned a sickening red on the bodies of soldiers mad sharks now fed. The Parsifal burned until it sank. Of the once proud fleet there was hardly a plank. There remained only tears for the families to shed. Snatchgrin wheeled & glided away, he'd done enough devilry on that awful day. He failed to notice two tiny specks which slowly moved forward among the shipwrecks. Toward the shore, the specks headed that way. 'Snatchgrin comes, Snatchgrin goes. Bringing fire and leaving woes. Snatchgrin lives so someone dies. When will it end? Who knows, who knows?' back \| next
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