CHAPTER SEVEN HOW THE ADVENTURE ENDED

“LOOK at what ？”said Edmund．

“Look at the device on the gold，”said Caspian．

“A little hammer with a diamond above it like a star，”said Drinian．“Why，I’ve seen that before．”

“Seen it ！”said Caspian．“Why，of course you have．It is the sign of a great Narnian house．This is the Lord Octesian’s arm-ring．”

“Villain，”said Reepicheep to the dragon，“have you devoured a Narnian lord ？”But the dragon shook his head violently．

“Or perhaps，”said Lucy，“this is the Lord Octesian，turned into a dragon—under an enchantment，you know．”

“It needn’t be either，”said Edmund．“All dragons collect gold. But I think it’s a safe guess that Octesian got no further than this island．”

“Are you the Lord Octesian ？”said Lucy to the dragon， and then，when it sadly shook its head，“Are you someone enchanted—someone human，I mean ？”

It nodded violently．

And then someone said—people disputed afterwards whether Lucy or Edmund said it first—“You’re not—not Eustace by any chance ？”

And Eustace nodded his terrible dragon head and thumped his tail in the sea and everyone skipped back(some of the sailors with ejaculations I will not put down in writing)to avoid the enormous and boiling tears which flowed from his eyes．

Lucy tried hard to console him and even screwed up her courage to kiss the scaly face，and nearly everyone said“Hard luck”and several assured Eustace that they would all stand by him and many said there was sure to be some way of disenchanting him and they’d have him as right as rain in a day or two．And of course they were all very anxious to hear his story，but he couldn’t speak． More than once in the days that followed he attempted to write it for them on the sand．But this never succeeded．In the first place Eustace(never having read the right books)had no idea how to tell a story straight．And for another thing，the muscles and nerves of the dragon-claws that he had to use had never learned to write and were not built for writing anyway．As a result he never got nearly to the end before the tide came in and washed away all the writing except the bits he had already trodden on or accidentally swished out with his tail．And all that anyone had seen would be something like this—the dots are for the bits he had smudged out—

I WNET TO SLEE... RGOS AGRONS I MEAN DRANGONS CAVE CAUSE IT—WAS DEAD AND AWING SO HAR... WOKE UP AND COU... GET OFFF MI ARM OH BOTHER...

It was，however，clear to everyone that Eustace’s character had been rather improved by becoming a dragon．He was anxious to help．He flew over the whole island and found that it was all mountainous and inhabited only by wild goats and droves of wild swine．Of these he brought back many carcasses as provisions for the ship．He was a very humane killer too，for he could dispatch a beast with one blow of his tail so that it didn’t know(and presumably still doesn’t know)it had been killed．He ate a few himself，of course，but always alone，for now that he was a dragon he liked his food raw but he could never bear to let others see him at his messy meals．And one day，flying slowly and wearily but in great triumph，he bore back to camp a great tall pine tree which he had torn up by the roots in a distant valley and which could be made into a capital mast．And in the evening if it turned chilly，as it sometimes did after the heavy rains，he was a comfort to everyone，for the whole party would come and sit with their backs against his hot sides and get well warmed and dried；and one puff of his fiery breath would light the most obstinate fire．Sometimes he would take a select party for a fly on his back，so that they could see wheeling below them the green slopes，the rocky heights，the narrow pit-like valleys and far out over the sea to the eastward a spot of darker blue on the blue horizon which might be land．

The pleasure(quite new to him)of being liked and，still more，of liking other people，was what kept Eustace from despair．For it was very dreary being a dragon．He shuddered whenever he caught sight of his own reflection as he flew over a mountain lake．He hated the huge bat—like wings，the saw-edged ridge on his back，and the cruel，curved claws．He was almost afraid to be alone with himself and yet he was ashamed to be with the others．On the evenings when he was not being used as a hot-water bottle he would slink away from the camp and lie curled up like a snake between the wood and the water．On such occasions，greatly to his surprise，Reepicheep was his most constant comforter．The noble Mouse would creep away from the merry circle at the camp fire and sit down by the dragon’s head， well to the windward to be out of the way of his smoky b r e a t h．There he would explain that what had happened to Eustace was a striking illustration of the turn of Fortune’s wheel， and that if he had Eustace at his own house in Narnia(it was really a hole not a house and the dragon’s head，let alone his body， would not have fitted in)he could show him more than a hundred examples of emperors，kings，dukes，knights，poets，lovers， astronomers，philosophers，and magicians，who had fallen from prosperity into the most distressing circumstances，and of whom many had recovered and lived happily ever afterwards．It did not， perhaps，seem so very comforting at the time，but it was kindly meant and Eustace never forgot it．