Tales From Moominvalley (8 page)

'Good,' said Moominmamma and gave My a look, 'Not a living soul may open his door.'

Moomintroll finished his porridge in dignified silence. Then he went out, through the garden down to the bridge.

*

Snufkin was sitting before his tent, painting a cork float. Moomintroll looked at him, and straight away he felt happy over his dragon again.

'Whew,' he said. 'Families are a cross sometimes.'

Snufkin grunted in agreement without taking his pipe from his mouth. They sat silent for a while, in male and friendly solidarity.

'By the way,' Moomintroll suddenly said. 'Have you ever come across a dragon on your wanderings?'

'You don't mean salamanders, lizards or crocodiles, apparently,' Snufkin replied after a long silence. 'You mean a dragon. No. Never. They're extinct.'

'But there
might
be one left,' Moomintroll said slowly, 'and someone might even catch it in a glass jar some day.'

Snufkin gave him a sharp look and saw that Moomintroll was about to burst from delight and suspense. So he replied quite curtly:

'I don't believe it.'

'Possibly it would be no bigger than a matchbox even if it could spit fire all right,' Moomintroll continued with a yawn.

'Well, that's pure fantasy, of course,' said Snufkin, who knew how surprises are prepared.

His friend stared past him and said:

'A dragon of pure gold with tiny green paws, who'd be devoted to one and follow one everywhere...'

And then Moomintroll jumped to his feet and cried: 'I've found it! I've found a real dragon of my own!'

*

While they walked up to the house Snufkin went through the whole scale of disbelief, astonishment and wonder. He was perfect.

They went upstairs, opened the door with great caution and went in.

The jar of water stood on the table as before, but the dragon had disappeared from it. Moomintroll looked under the bed, behind the chest of drawers and all over the floor, calling all the while:

'Little friend... my pretty-pretty... my teeny-weeny, where are you...'

'Moomin,' Snufkin said, 'it's sitting on the window curtain.'

So it was, high on the rod near the ceiling.

'How on earth,' cried Moomintroll in great alarm. 'He mustn't fall down... Keep quite still. Wait a bit... don't talk...'

He pulled the bedclothes from his bed and spread them on the floor below the window. Then he took the hemulen's old butterfly net and reached up towards the dragon.

'Jump!' he whispered. Teeny-weeny... don't be afraid, it can't hurt you...'

'You'll frighten it away,' said Snufkin.

The dragon yawned and hissed. It gave the butterfly net a good bite and started to purr like a small engine. And suddenly it flapped out under the ceiling and began flying around in circles.

'He's flying, he's flying!' Moomintroll shouted. 'My dragon's flying!'

'Of course,' said Snufkin. 'Don't jump about so. Keep still.'

The dragon was hanging quite still in the air. Its wings were a blur, like a moth's. And then suddenly it dived down, bit Moomintroll in the ear, so he gave a cry and then it flew straight to Snufkin and settled on his shoulder.

It edged closer against his ear, closed its eyes and started to purr.

'What a funny creature,' Snufkin said in astonishment. 'It's all hot and glowing. What does it do?'

'It's liking you,' said Moomintroll.

*

In the afternoon the Snork Maiden came home from visiting little My's grandma and of course was told at once that Moomintroll had found a dragon.

It was sitting on the verandah table beside Snufkin's cup of coffee, licking its paws. It had bitten everybody except Snufkin, and every time it became cross at anything it burned a hole somewhere.

'What a sweetie-pie,' said the Snork Maiden. 'What's its name?'

'Nothing special,' Moomintroll mumbled. 'It's just a dragon.'

He let his paw warily crawl across the table until it touched one of the little gilded legs. At once the dragon whirled around, hissed at him and blew a small cloud of smoke.

'How sweet!' the Snork Maiden cried.

The dragon ran over to Snufkin's pipe that was lying at the table, and sniffed at the bowl. Where it had sat was a round brown-edged hole in the table cloth.

'I wonder if it can burn through oilcloth too,' Moominmamma said.

'Naturally,' said little My. 'Just wait until it's grown a bit. It'll burn down the house for us.'

She grabbed a piece of cake, and the dragon rushed at her like a small golden fury and bit her in the paw.

'You d... d spider!' cried My, and slapped at the dragon with her napkin.

'If you say things like that you'll never go to heaven,' the Mymble started instantly, but Moomintroll cut her short with a cry:

'It wasn't the dragon's fault! He thought you wanted the fly that was sitting on the cake.'

'You and your dragon!' cried My, whose paw was really hurting badly. 'It isn't yours even, it's Snufkin's, because it likes only him!'

There was a silence.

'Did I hear the small fry squeak,' said Snufkin and rose from the table. 'A few hours more and it'll know where it belongs. Well. Be off. Fly to master!'

But the dragon had settled on Snufkin's shoulder again and clung to it with all six clawed paws, purring all the while like a sewing machine. Snufkin picked it up between thumb and forefinger and put it under the tea-cosy. Then he opened the glass door and went out into the garden.

'Oh, he'll suffocate,' Moomintroll said and lifted the tea-cosy half an inch off the table. The dragon came out like lightning, flew straight to the window and sat there staring after Snufkin, with its paws against the pane. After a little while it began to whine, and its golden colour turned to grey from neck to tail.

'Dragons,' Moominpappa broke the silence, 'disappeared from public consciousness about seventy years ago. I've looked them up in the encyclopaedia. The last

to keep alive was the emotional species with strong combustion. They are most stubborn and never change their mind about anything...'

'Thanks for the tea,' Moomintroll said and rose from the table. 'I'm going upstairs.'

'Darling, shall we leave your dragon here on the verandah?' Moominmamma asked. 'Or are you taking it along with you?'

Moomintroll didn't reply.

He went to the door and opened it. There was a flash as the dragon swished past him, and the Snork Maiden cried:

'Oh! You won't catch it again! Why did you? I hadn't even looked at it properly yet!'

'Go and look for Snufkin,' Moomintroll said between clenched teeth. 'It will be sitting on his shoulder.'

'My darling,' Moominmamma said sadly. 'My little troll.'

*

Snufkin had barely got his fishing line baited when the dragon came buzzing and settled on his knee. It nearly tied itself into knots from delight at having found him.

'Well, this is a pretty kettle,' Snufkin said and whisked the creature away. 'Shoo. Be off with you. Go home!'

But of course he knew it was no use. The dragon would never leave him. And for all he knew it could live a hundred years.

Snufkin looked a little sadly at the small shining creature that was doing all it could to attract his attention.

'Yes, you're nice,' he said. 'Yes, it would be fun to have you along. But, don't you see, there's Moomintroll...'

The dragon yawned. It flew to his ragged hat brim and curled up to sleep on it. Snufkin sighed and cast his line into the river. His new float bobbed in the current, shining brightly red. He knew that Moomintroll wouldn't like fishing today. The Groke take it all...

The hours went by.

The little dragon flew off and caught some flies and returned to sleep on the hat. Snufkin got five roaches and one eel that he let off again because it made such a fuss.

Towards evening a boat came down the river. A youngish hemulen steered.

'Any luck?' he asked.

'So so,' Snufkin replied. 'Going far?'

'Oh, well,' said the hemulen.

'Throw me your painter,' Snufkin said. 'You might have use for a few fish. Swaddle them in damp newspapers and roast them on the embers. It's not too bad.'

'And what do
you
want?' asked the hemulen who wasn't used to presents.

Snufkin laughed and took off his hat with the sleeping dragon.

'Now listen,' he said. 'Take this with you as far as you're going and leave it in some nice place where there are a lot of flies. Fold up the hat to look like a nest, and put it under a bush or something to make this dragon feel undisturbed.'

'A dragon, is it?' the hemulen asked suspiciously. 'Does he bite? How often does one have to feed him?'

Snufkin went into his tent and returned with his old tea-kettle. He shoved a tuft of grass down into it and cautiously let the sleeping dragon down after it. Then he placed the lid firmly on and said:

'You can poke some flies down the nozzle now and then, and pour in a few drops of water sometimes also. Don't mind if the kettle becomes hot. Here you are. After a couple of days you can leave it.'

'That's quite a job for five roaches,' the hemulen replied sourly and hauled home his painter. The boat started to glide with the current.

'Don't forget the hat,' Snufkin called over the water. 'It's very particular about my hat.'

'No, no, no,' said the hemulen and disappeared round the bend.

'He'll burn his fingers some time,' Snufkin thought. 'Might serve him right.'

*

Moomintroll came after sundown.

'Hello,' Snufkin said.

'Yippee,' Moomintroll said tonelessly. 'Caught any fish?'

'So so,' Snufkin replied. 'Won't you sit down?'

'Oh, I just happened to pass by,' Moomintroll mumbled.

There was a pause. A new kind of silence, troubled and awkward. Finally Moomintroll asked:

'Does he shine in the dark?'

'Who?'

'Oh, the dragon. I just thought it might be fun to ask if a creep like that shines in the dark.'

'I really don't know,' Snufkin said. 'You'd better go home and take a look.'

'But I've let him out,' Moomintroll cried. 'Didn't he come to you?'

'Nope,' Snufkin said, lighting his pipe. 'Dragons, they do as they like. They're pretty flighty you know, and if they see a fat fly somewhere they forget everything else. That's dragons. They're really nothing much.'

Moomintroll was silent for quite a while. Then he sat down in the grass and said:

'Perhaps you're right. Perhaps it was just as well that it went away. Well, yes. I rather think so. Snufkin. That new float of yours. I suppose it looked good in the water. The red one.'

'Not bad,' Snufkin said. 'I'll make you one. Were you planning to fish tomorrow?'

'Of course,' Moomintroll said. 'Naturally.'