Max was a curious boy who loved to climb trees and explore the forest near his home. One warm summer evening, he decided to venture farther than he ever had before. As the sun began to set, he found himself at the foot of Dragon’s Peak, a mountain many said was haunted by creatures yet to be discovered. But the thought of creatures didn’t scare Max; it filled him with a thrill of excitement!
Just as he was about to turn back, he heard a rustling from the bushes above him. He squinted into the fading light and saw what looked like a pile of rocks. Climbing a bit farther up, he realized they weren’t rocks at all! Suddenly, the bushes parted, and out came a creature so magnificent and terrible it took Max’s breath away—a dragon!
The dragon had golden scales that glimmered even in the dusky light. It looked at Max curiously with its huge violet eyes. Just then, Max noticed something white lying among the bushes. He took a step closer. “An egg!” he exclaimed. “A dragon’s egg!”
At the sound of his voice, the dragon swung its massive head toward Max, who felt a rush of panic. Had it come to protect its young? Before he could think, Max turned and fled down the mountain as fast as he could.
But the next evening, something strange happened. As he was passing below Dragon’s Peak, Max heard a cry from above. Didn’t the dragon know that he had no intention of stealing its egg? Timidly, he looked up—and there, soaring through the evening sky, was the dragon! With a small dragon flying alongside it, it came flapping and swooping down toward him.
Max felt as if his heart would leap from his body. He turned and ran. His little legs could hardly carry him, but he never dared to look back. Suddenly, he tripped on a root and fell, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Would the dragons tear him to pieces?
But when Max opened his eyes, he found himself looking into the violet eyes of the dragon. Its huge head was bent down close to him, and beside it stood the little dragon gazing at Max curiously. Max felt relieved, and soon the fury and excitement he had known began to die away.
The repose of the gentle giants calmed him. He timidly reached his hand out to the little dragon, who sniffed it, then butted his great big head against it. Max laughed with delight. The larger dragon seemed pleased. Its huge wings were folded closely, almost as if it were a mother hen covering its chicks with its feathers.
Max got to his feet and looked around. He knew the way and felt he could obey. The mother dragon flapped her wings gently, as if telling him to mount on the little dragon.
Max was quickly on the little one’s back, and with a flap of her great wings, the mother dragon rose into the sky.
“Oh, I’m flying!” cried Max, who had often dreamed of this, but never hoped never really to try it.
Up and up, the little dragon soared. Each moment the ground below him became smaller and smaller, until even the trees looked like blades of grass. The little dragon flapped his wings rhythmically, while Max looked down in breathless wonder.
Then the little one soared above the heavier shadows of the mountain where the father dragon usually slept. They soared into the sunlit spaces of the upper sky where the little birds sang shrilly and flew fast. Every moment the sky seemed to widen and the silence became more profound.
Then came the great storm. The upper sky grew gray and heavy, the calm above was washed by the rain. The wind shrieked and tore among the forest trees. The water poured down in sheets, and every now and then a burst of lightning ripped the sky asunder.
Max sat crouched on his tiny steed, who was striving hard to keep afoot. He held fast by one of its small horns and called down messages of love to the gentle giant, who huddled above her young to shield him from the fury of the storm. But Max, being a brave boy, had no thought of terror, though he was drenched to the skin.
Suddenly the little dragon balled himself tightly up and let himself fall. The father’s nest was just below them on an odd-shaped shelf of rock. At first, Max hoped they would reach the ledge, but as they struck it, the ground tilted sideways, and Max was thrown out.
Without saying one word, the father dragon took in the ledge with his huge claws, and the little one climbed to the top, where he spread out opposite to his mother, so that Max could be sheltered from the rain.
Max scrambled up to them; he felt so kind and grateful that he burrowed his way into the warm embrace of the mother dragon and slept.
When he awoke in the morning, the sky was blue and calm. The two little dragons were sleeping peacefully beside him, one on each side. They looked like two little kittens, with their tails curved over their backs, the sunbeams dancing on their golden scales.
Max got up and walked across to the other side of the ledge. Below him lay the Pettycourt woods. Since he had been so near a dragon’s nest, he thought his mother might be worried about him. The thought of breakfast, too, made him feel quite happy. He turned to speak to the dragons, but to his horror, found that they were awake and waving their tails in a furious manner.
“Thank you for your kindness,” said Max, who went out of earshot, lest the dragons should imagine he was mocking them.
He waved his hat as a farewell sign, and shouted, “Hurrah for you!” as he slid down the mountain. The dragons suddenly understood he was not their enemy; they rose into the air and did a little dance around each other, throwing up their lives and twisting it into circles. When they again settled in their nest, they called, “Brah,” to express their sense of thanksgiving.
As Max reached the gravel walk, he heard the faint rumbling of thunder; then suddenly the mother dragon slid from the nest, and, taking her couple of children with her, soared into the clouds. The three dragons were lost to sight, while Max was met by his delighted mother and a stream of curious neighbors.