Stormdragons

Chapter 15

'Joe, wake up!'

'Eh?'

'Wake up, Joe. It is almost light. Time to go.'

Reluctantly Joe opened his eyes. Someone was leaning over him and gently shaking his shoulder. There was hardly any light in the cave but he recognised Ibrahim's long hair and soft voice.

'What's the hurry?' said Joe.

'It's time to start collecting. While the dragons are away.'

Joe was warm and comfortable. He'd slept well, lying on straw the boys had carried up to the cave on previous trips. He closed his eyes.

'You can leave me here. I'll be fine,' he mumbled.

Ibrahim looked at Ali. Ali stepped forward.

'Joe,' he said, 'we may not come back this way. I think it's best if you come with us.'

Joe roused himself.

'Okay, okay,' he muttered.

Groggily he got to his feet and followed the boys to the mouth of the cave.

The canyon was still dark, though smudges of pink in the sky hinted that dawn was approaching. The shrill cries of dragons echoed between the rocky walls. Joe stretched and yawned. The boys, impatient to be off, beckoned him forward.

'Why so early? It's hardly light enough to see,' complained Joe.

'Most of the dragons go hunting at this time of day. So it is safer to go collecting their dung,' explained Ali.

'Why not wait until they've come back and are busy eating?' asked Joe

'Because some dragons return empty-handed and hungry,' replied Ali.

'Ah!' said Joe, 'In that case, let's not hang around.'

They set off, the two village boys clambering nimble across the rocky ground. When they came to the dragons' lair, the place of overhangs and large caves Joe had seen the day before, the boys spread out and began to search. A few dragons were still stirring, stretching their wings and shuffling into position before take off. The boys worked swiftly and silently, scooping pieces of dung up into their basket. At one point Ibrahim was almost crushed when a dragon turned suddenly and brought its mighty tail thumping down close to his ear.

Joe kept within a few paces of Ali and tried to be of help. He soon realised he was too clumsy and inexperienced to be a good collector. Not knowing where to look, he strayed too close to the mouth of a cave and was driven off by a terrifying roar.

'We have a saying,' whispered Ali. 'A dragon's cry. No need to fly. A dragon's roar. Head for the door!'

Eventually Ibrahim gave a low whistle.

'That mean's his basket is full,' whispered Ali.

A few minutes later Ali gave a similar whistle and raised his arms. The boys re-grouped on his position.

'Well done. Let's go,' he whispered.

By now the lip of the canyon was bathed in light and colour was returning to the world. Overhead the first dragons were arriving back from the hunt, a piece of livestock or a wild antelope gripped in their talons. The boys took a swig of water, which kept surprisingly cool and fresh in the leather water bottles, and began their journey home.

'How far to your village?' asked Joe.

'About half a day's walk,' replied Ali.

'But nearly all downhill from here, Joe,' said Ibrahim with a smile.