ing mischief, came upon
the buried hoard.

As men well know, a dragon ever loveth gold. So to guard his new-found
wealth lest any should come to rob him of it, he laid him down there
and the cave became his dwelling. Thus for three hundred years he lay
gloating over his treasure, no man disturbing him.

But now at length it chanced that the fleeing slave lighted upon the
hoard. His eyes were dazzled by the shining heap. Upon it lay a cup of
gold, wondrously chased and adorned.

"If I can but gain that cup," said the slave to himself, "I will
return with it to my master, and for the sake of the gold he will
surely forgive me."

So while the dragon slept, trembling and fearful the slave crept
nearer and nearer to the glittering mass. When he came quite near he
reached forth his hand and seized the cup. Then with it he fled back
to his master.

It befell then as the slave had foreseen. For the sake of the wondrous
cup his misdeeds were forgiven him.

But when the dragon awoke his fury was great. Well knew he that mortal
man had trod his cave and stolen of his hoard.

Round and round about he sniffed and searched until he discovered the
footprints of his foe. Eagerly then all over the ground he sought
to find the man who, while he slept, had done him this ill. Hot
and fierce of mood he went backwards and forwards round about his
treasure-heaps. All within the cave he searched in vain. Then coming
forth he searched without. All round the hill in which his cave was
he prowled, but no man could he find, nor in all the wilds around was
there any man.

Again the old dragon returned, again he searched among his
treasure-heap for the precious cup. Nowhere was it to be found. It was
too surely gone.

But the dragon, as well as loving gold, loved war. So now in angry
mood he lay couched in his lair. Scarce could he wait until darkness
fell, such was his wrath. With fire he was resolved to repay the loss
of his dear drinking-cup.

At last, to the joy of the great winged beast, the sun sank. Then
forth from his cave he came, flaming fire.

Spreading his mighty wings, he flew through the air until he came to
the houses of men. Then spitting forth flame, he set fire to many a
happy homestead. Wherever the lightning of his tongue struck, there
fire flamed forth, until where the fair homes of men had been there
was naught but blackened ruins. Here and there, this way and that,
through all the land he sped, and wherever he