But when he went to hook it in with his gaff he fell back over the thwart, because as soon as it saw him it opened its mouth and came over the gunwale with a rush, and hunted him round the boat till he hit it over the head with his little axe." "Yes, I remember," said Vince, taking up the narrative; "and then he said they had a terrible fight, for it twisted its tail round his leg and struck at him, getting hold of his tarpaulin coat with its teeth and holding on till he got the blade of the axe into the cut he had made and sawed away till he got through the backbone.

Oh yes, we heard him tell the story lots of times about how strong it was, and how it bruised his leg where it hit him with its tail, and how he was beginning to feel that, in spite of its head being nearly off, it seemed as if it would finish him, when all at once it dropped down in the bottom of the boat and only just heaved about.

I used to believe it all, but he always puts more and more to it whenever he tells the tale.

I don't believe it now." "But it was a monster." "Yes: two inches short of seven feet long, and as big round as a cod-fish; and I don't see why there mayn't be some twice as big in the Scraw.

But I'm not going to believe in there being anything else, Mike; and we're going to see." "Nothing horrid living in the caves ?" "Bogies and mermen and Goblin Jacks?
No: stuff!" "But up the cliff: you don't think there's anything there that makes it so that you can't go?
I mean--" "Dragons like father has in that old Latin book about Switzerland ?" "Yes; you've got pictures of them,--horrid things with wings, that lived in the mountains and passes." "All gammon!" cried Vince.