By then, the families might well freeze to death in the bitter cold.
But what could Bostwick do about it? Then it came to him. Being a dragon, he had a roaring fire inside him, one powerful enough to light even the wettest wood.
Bostwick looked again at the little boy. He was shivering now, shaking from head to toes, and looking very dejected. He was just about to turn away and crawl back through the window to his house when Bostwick made a soft noise—sort of like a “purr”—and nodded his head.
The boy paused, obviously puzzled. “Can you help us?” he asked plaintively.
Bostwick nodded again. Slowly, Bostwick made his way over to the boy’s cottage. Carefully, he stood up on his hind legs and put his snout over the top of the chimney. Taking a deep breath, Bostwick blew his fiery breath straight down the chimney.
Almost instantly, the fireplace inside the cottage came alive with bright, warmth-giving flames. Inside, Samuel’s sister, Emma, shouted with glee. “Mother, Father! Look at the fireplace!”
Mr. White, who had been struggling to get through the window and rescue his son from the danger, now wedged himself free from the window and turned to see what the dragon had done.
“My goodness!” he exclaimed. “The fire! He’s lit the fire for us!”
Meanwhile, Samuel looked at Bostwick quizzically. Then his sister shouted out the window to him. “Samuel! Our fire is burning! He’s saved us!”
Then Samuel broke into a big smile and nodded encouragingly at Bostwick, who was already moving down to the next cottage in the street. There he repeated the trick and soon the fireplace in that cottage was giving off great waves of warmth. The family who lived there were joyfully smiling and laughing as they extended their hands toward the fireplace to warm them.
Bostwick worked quickly. Within about an hour, he had re-lit the fire in over half of the cottages in the village.
By this time, many of the villagers had struggled their way out of their snow-bound cottages and were standing there, watching Bostwick as he moved from house to house. Of course the villagers were delighted. They were smiling broadly and from time to time would break out into cheers and applause as Bostwick lit one fire after another.
At one point the villagers—there were now at least twenty or so standing in the middle of the street watching Bostwick at work—spontaneously started singing Christmas carols. Bostwick was thrilled to hear them and, for a few seconds, turned toward the singing villagers and nodded his head enthusiastically in time with the music. And just then he heard them sing that same phrase he had heard before—“Peace on Earth and Good Will toward Men.”
Bostwick paused for just a second, a large dragon tear dripping from his green eye. Then he turned around quickly and finished his work. In just a few more minutes, every cottage was being warmed by a roaring fire.
Bostwick turned around to see almost everyone in the village gathered in the center of town. The parents had to hold many of the children up on their shoulders because the snow was so deep. But everyone was as happy as they could be.
Suddenly, a huge rumbling noise filled the air.
Chapter 10: A Bad Situation Gets Worse
“It’s an avalanche! Everyone run for your lives!” came a voice from within the crowd of people. Bostwick looked up at the side of the mountain. It was true. Tons of snow were starting to flow down the mountain in the direction of the little village.
The villagers started to panic. Some grabbed their children and headed back inside their cottages. Others, realizing that the cottages could easily be crushed by the cascading snow, tried to fight their way through the snow as far away from the mountainside as they could get.
But it looked hopeless. The rumbling sound was getting louder now and it seemed like the whole mountainside was in motion.
Fortunately, there was a little ridge on the mountain that overhung the village and that seemed to be keeping the snow back for the moment. But the tumbling waves of snow were now beginning to pile up against the ridge so that the whole ridge might crumble and come down on the village any minute.
“Well, don’t just stand there! We’ve got some melting to do.”
It was Mortimer. He had come to help too.
“Let’s move, Bostwick. You take the left side of the ridge, I’ll take the right.”
Both dragons spread their leathery wings (a handful of villagers reacted to this with “oohs” and “ahs” of appreciation) and quickly flew up to the little ridge on the side of the mountain.
“Sweep with your tail!” yelled Bostwick to Mort. “What you can’t sweep away, melt with your fire.”
“Got it!” replied Mortimer, already using his tail to sweep tons of snow off the ridge. Each powerful stroke of his tail sent huge mounds of snow off to the side, a good half mile away from the little village.
But the avalanche was not done yet. More and more tons of snow were headed in the dragons’ direction. So now they threw out their fiery breath at the incoming waves of snow even as they were sweeping away the snow they weren’t able to melt.
It was a terrible struggle, but eventually the snow stopped tumbling down the mountain and the dragons managed to sweep or melt enough snow off the ridge that the little town was saved.
Things were a little soggy, of course, because the melted snow had caused a bit of a flood. But no one was hurt and the villager’s little cottages were safe and sound.
By the time the two dragons had finally neutralized the effect of the avalanche, all but a small handful of the villagers had fled and the rest were stunned into silence. So although Bostwick and Mortimer were proud of their accomplishment, there was no really no one around to share the feeling. So Bostwick and Mortimer simply trudged back up the mountain (making sure to use a backside route so as not to cause another avalanche) and made their way back to their cave.
Chapter 11: Peace on Earth and Good Will toward All
And now it was the next day, the day the villagers called Christmas. It was warm and cozy in the cave of course. Mortimer was in the back, sharpening his claws on some old rocks. Bostwick was alone. And he was feeling a little lonely.
The day before in the village, when the people had cheered him for re-lighting everyone’s fire and keeping them from freezing to death, Bostwick had felt happier than he had ever felt in his whole life. But then the avalanche had come, and by the time he and Mortimer had somehow managed to stop it in its tracks, almost all of the villagers had fled. There was no one left around to even offer a simple ‘thank you’ for their daring act.
Bostwick sighed. He was pleased that he and Mortimer had been able to do a good deed for the villagers. But somehow he expected to feel different about it than he did. He had hoped that their brave act would somehow change things. But it didn’t seem to have changed anything at all. He and Mortimer were still sitting there alone in the cave. The people were all down in the village, probably cleaning up from the storm and celebrating their special Christmas day.
Mortimer looked over at Bostwick with a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it so much,” Mortimer said. “Dragons are dragons and people are people. You can’t expect them to think about us. I never think about them.”
Bostwick sighed again. Maybe Mortimer was right.
Just then, he heard a sound. It was coming from the village and it was louder than usual. It was singing! A large group of villagers were making their way up the mountain in a procession. It wasn’t easy going because there was still a lot of snow on the mountain. But slowly and surely, they were climbing up the mountain path and the sound of singing got closer and closer.
“Mort!” said Bostwick, gesturing to his friend. “Come over here! You’ve got to see this.”
Mortimer lumbered over to the mouth of the cave where Bostwick was standing, peering down the mountain to see the oncoming parade of villagers.
“Villagers!” said Mortimer. “They haven’t come up here for a long time. What do you think they want? Are they angry at us???
?
Bostwick grinned his big, toothy dragon grin. “No, they’re not mad. Listen…they’re singing Christmas songs.”
It was almost a half an hour more before the villagers made it to the mouth of the cave. Bostwick and Mortimer stood there with expectant faces. Then, one of the village officials stepped forward and spoke.
“We all owe our lives to you. If you hadn’t relit those fires…if you hadn’t stopped that avalanche…none of us would be here today. None of us would be able to celebrate Christmas. And oh, by the way, we’re grateful that you don’t eat us anymore.”
Bostwick and Mortimer looked at each other. Both smiled. They didn’t try to say anything to the villagers because they knew the villagers probably wouldn’t understand them. But they were both very happy.
“And since you’ve given us our lives back,” the village official continued, “we’ve brought you some gifts, a small token of our appreciation.” He gestured back to where five other villagers were coming forward, leading donkeys that were carrying bushel after bushel of barley and wheat. “We know that food can be scarce in winter and we’d like to help you out a little. It is Christmas, after all.”
“We can bring even more next week,” piped a small voice from the crowd of villagers. It was Samuel.
“A lot more,” yelled Mr. White through the crowd.
Bostwick was amazed. Mortimer eyed the food hungrily. “More veggies,” he said a little longingly. “But at least it’ll fill our tummies.”
“It’s wonderful,” said Bostwick, his eyes filling with tears.
And now he felt it, too. He whispered softly, “Peace on earth and good will to men…and dragons. I can’t think of a better Christmas gift.”
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If you’ve enjoyed The Dragon’s Christmas Gift. You might want to check out An Irish Tale and King Arthur Returns, also by Terence O’Grady. They’re available through all major e-book sellers.
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