being of a deep golden hue, his appearance
might well have made even one of the bravest of men unwilling to attack
him.

Saint George trembled not, but thought of the lovely Sabra, and nerved
himself for the encounter. De Fistycuff did not like his looks, and had
he been alone would have been tempted to beat a retreat, but his love
for his master kept him by his side.

"See," said the Hermit, who had come thus far, "there is the dragon! He
is a monster huge and horrible; but I believe that, like other monsters,
by bravery and skill he can be overcome. See, the valley is full of
fruit-trees! Should he wound you, and should you faint, you will find
one bearing oranges of qualities so beneficial, that, should you be able
to procure one plucked fresh from the tree, it will instantly revive
you. Now, farewell! See, the brute is approaching!"

"Remember," cried Saint George, turning to De Fistycuff, "this fight is
to be all my own. You stand by and see fair play. Only, if I am down,
and the brute dares to hit me, then rush in to my rescue." The faithful
squire nodded his assent.

On came the monster dragon, flapping his wings, spouting fire from his
nostrils, and roaring loudly with his mouth. Saint George couched his
sharp spear, and spurring his steed, dashed onward to the combat. So
terrific was the shock that the Knight was almost hurled from his
saddle, while his horse, driven back on his haunches, lay, almost
crushed, beneath the monster's superincumbent weight; but both man and
steed extricating themselves with marvellous agility, Saint George made
another thrust of his spear, with all his might, against the scaly
breast of the dragon. He might as well have struck against a gate of
brass.

In a moment the stout spear was shivered into a thousand fragments, and
the dragon uttered a loud roar of derision. At the same time, to show
what he could do, he whisked round his venomous pointed tail with so
rapid a movement that he brought both man and horse sorely bruised to
the ground.

There they lay, almost senseless from the blow, while the dragon
retreated backward some hundred paces or more, with the intention of
coming back with greater force than before, and completing the victory
he had almost won. Happily De Fistycuff divined the monster's purpose,
and seeing one of the orange-trees of which the hermit had spoken, he
picked an orange and hurried with it to his master.

Scarcely had the Knight ta