ean at the other. Now the animals there
are very lazy, and they used to hate having to go all the way around
the beginning of this river to get to the other side of the island.
It made visiting inconvenient and mail deliveries slow, particularly
during the Christmas rush. Crocodiles could have carried passengers
and mail across the river, but crocodiles are very moody, and not the
least bit dependable, and are always looking for something to eat.
They don't care if the animals have to walk around the river, so
that's just what the animals did for many years."

"But what does all this have to do with airplanes?" asked my father,
who thought the cat was taking an awfully long time to explain.

"Be patient, Elmer," said the cat, and she went on with the story.
"One day about four months before I arrived on Wild Island a baby
dragon fell from a low-flying cloud onto the bank of the river. He was
too young to fly very well, and besides, he had bruised one wing quite
badly, so he couldn't get back to his cloud. The animals found him
soon afterwards and everybody said, 'Why, this is just exactly what
we've needed all these years!' They tied a big rope around his neck
and waited for the wing to get well. This was going to end all their
crossing-the-river troubles."

[Illustration]

"I've never seen a dragon," said my father. "Did you see him? How big
is he?"

"Oh, yes, indeed I saw the dragon. In fact, we became great friends,"
said the cat. "I used to hide in the bushes and talk to him when
nobody was around. He's not a very big dragon, about the size of a
large black bear, although I imagine he's grown quite a bit since I
left. He's got a long tail and yellow and blue stripes. His horn and
eyes and the bottoms of his feet are bright red, and he has
gold-colored wings."

"Oh, how wonderful!" said my father. "What did the animals do with him
when his wing got well?"

"They started training him to carry passengers, and even though he is
just a baby dragon, they work him all day and all night too sometimes.
They make him carry loads that are much too heavy, and if he
complains, they twist his wings and beat him. He's always tied to a
stake on a rope just long enough to go across the river. His only
friends are the crocodiles, who say 'Hello' to him once a week if they
don't forget. Really, he's the most miserable animal I've ever come
across. When I left I promised I'd try to help him someday, although I
couldn't see ho