In spite of the pain， his first feeling was one of relief. There was nothing to be afraid of any more. He was a terror himself and nothing in the world but a knight （and not all of those） would dare to attack him. He could get even with Caspian and Edmund now-But the moment he thought this he realized that he didn’t want to.
He wanted to be friends. He wanted to get back among humans and talk and laugh and share things. He realized that he was a monster cut off from the whole human race. An appalling loneliness came over him. He began to see that the others had not really been fiends at all. He began to wonder if he himself had been such a nice person as he had always supposed. He longed for their voices. He would have been grateful for a kind word even from Reepicheep.
When he thought of this the poor dragon that had been Eustace lifted up its voice and wept. A powerful dragon crying its eyes out under the moon in a deserted valley is a sight and a sound hardly to be imagined.
At last he decided he would try to find his way back to the shore. He realized now that Caspian would never have sailed away and left him. And he felt sure that somehow or other he would be able to make people understand who he was.
He took a long drink and then （I know this sounds shocking， but it isn‘t if you think it over） he ate nearly all the dead dragon. He was halfway through it before he realized what he was doing； for， you see， though his mind was the mind of Eustace， his tastes and his digestion were dragonish. And there is nothing a dragon likes so well as fresh dragon. That is why you so seldom find more than one dragon in the same county.
Then he turned to climb out of the valley. He began the climb with a jump and as soon as he jumped he found that he was flying. He had quite forgotten about his wings and it was a great surprise to him-thefirst pleasant surprise he had had for a long time. He rose high into the air and saw innumerable mountain-tops spread out beneath him in the moonlight. He could see the bay like a silver slab and the Dawn Treader lying at anchor， and camp fires twinkling in the woods beside the beach. From a great height he launched himself down towards them in a single glide.
Lucy was sleeping very soundly for she had sat up till the return of the search party in the hope of good news about Eustace. It had been led by Caspian and had come back late and weary. Their news was disquieting. They had found no trace of Eustace but had seen a dead dragon in a valley. They tried to make the best of it and everyone assured everyone else that there were not likely to he more dragons about， and that one which was dead at about three o’clock that afternoon （which was when they had seen it） would hardly have been killing people a very few hours before.
“Unless it ate the little brat and died of him： he‘d poison anything，” said Rhince. But he said this under his breath and no one heard it.
But later in the night Lucy was wakened， very softly， and found the whole company gathered close together and talking in whispers.
“What is it？” said Lucy.
“We must all show great constancy，” Caspian was saying. “A dragon has just flown over the tree-tops and lighted on the beach. Yes， I am afraid it is between us and the ship. And arrows are no use against dragons. And they’re not at all afraid of fire.”
“With your Majesty‘s leave-” began Reepicheep.
“No， Reepicheep，” said the King very firmly， “you are not to attempt a single combat with it. And unless you promise to obey me in this matter I’ll have you tied up. We must just keep close watch and， as soon as it is light， go down to the beach and give it battle. I will lead. King Edmund will be on my right and the Lord Drinian on my left. There are no other arrangements to be made. It will be light in a couple of hours. In an hour‘s time let a meal be served out and what is left of the wine. And let everything be done silently.”
“Perhaps it will go away，” said Lucy.
“It’ll be worse if it does，” said Edmund， “because then we shan‘t know where it is. If there’s a wasp in the room I like to be able to see it.”
The rest of the night wa dreadful， and when the meal came， though they knew they ought to eat， many found that they had very poor appetites. And endless hours seemed to pass before the darkness thinned and birds began chirping here and there and the world got colder and wetter than it had been all night and Caspian said， “Now for it， friends.”
They got up， all with swords drawn， and formed themselves into a solid mass with Lucy in the middle and Reepicheep on her shoulder. It was nicer than the waiting about and everyone felt fonder of everyone else than at ordinary times. A moment later they were marching. It grew lighter as they came to the edge of the wood. And there on the sand， like a giant lizard， or a flexible crocodile， or a serpent with legs， huge and horrible and humpy， lay the dragon.
But when it saw them， instead of rising up and blowing fire and smoke， the dragon retreated-you could almost say it waddled-back into the shallows of the bay.
“What‘s it wagging its head like that for？” said Edmund. “And now it’s nodding，” said Caspian.
“And there‘s something coming from its eyes，” said Drinian. “Oh， can’t you see，” said Lucy. “It‘s crying. Those are tears.”
“I shouldn’t trust to that， Ma‘am，” said Drinian. “That’s what crocodiles do， to put you off your guard.”
“It wagged its head when you said that，” remarked Edmund. “Just as if it meant ‘No’. Look， there it goes again.”
“Do you think it understands what we‘re saying？” asked Lucy. The dragon nodded its head violently.
Reepicheep slipped off Lucy’s shoulder and stepped to the front. “Dragon，” came his shrill voice， “can you understand speech？” The dragon nodded.
“Can you speak？” It shook its head.
“Then，” said Reepicheep， “it is idle to ask you your business. But if you will swear friendship with us raise your left foreleg above your head.”