horror, “he’s … he’s going to fly!”
The MacArthurs, to give them their due, did what they could. They made a concerted rush for Arthur, but against a dragon they had their limits. The night air, the starry sky and the limitless curve of the heavens had woken old memories in Arthur. With a few effortless flaps of his wings he left the earth behind and soared skywards, revelling in his new-found freedom.
The MacArthur stomped up to the transporter looking sour.
“What are we going to do now,” gasped Sir James in a panic.
“I wouldn’t worry, Sir James. He’ll no’ be gone long, more’s the pity. Look over yonder!”
Neil grabbed Sir James’s arm. “Look, Sir James! Over there! An aeroplane! It’s coming in to land!”
Sir James paeld. “Oh no!” he gasped in horror. “It’s the London Shuttle!”
“I’d love to see the pilot’s face when he sees Arthur,” said Neil, watching with fascinated eyes as Arthur soared towards the plane.
The pilot of the Shuttle picked Arthur up in the powerful beam of his landing lights and at first refused to believe his eyes. His first incredulous thought was that Arthur was a kite or even a stray balloon but the steadily beating wings and supple movement of his body soon banished that idea from his mind. This was a living, flying dragon straight from the pagesof a storybook.
“What the devil?” he said savagely to his co-pilot as he banked hard to avoid colliding with Arthur. His co-pilot, in much the same state of disbelief, shook his head in amazement. “A dragon! But … but, they don’t exist … do they?”
“This one looks pretty solid to me!” muttered the pilot grimly as he banked again.
Dragons, as one would expect, don’t rate highly in any of the emergency procedures that pilots routinely follow. The Air Traffic Controller at Edinburgh Airport, enquiring politely as to why flight B6672 had left its flight-path to career wildly across his radar screen was not amused to be told by the pilot that he was trying to avoid a dragon, especially when the blips on his radar screen showed nothing of the sort.
“I don’t care if you’re not picking anything else up,” snarled the pilot, craning his neck to see where Arthur had got to. “Why don’t you just look out of your window?”
And against the backdrop of the night sky the Air Traffic controller saw the shape of the dragon, and watched in horror as Arthur flapped interestedly around the Shuttle.
Clara watched in dismay as the pilot put his aircraft into a steep climb. As it soared upwards, the resultant turbulence hit Arthur full on and sent him tumbling head over tail in a wild spin that left him disoriented and dizzy. Watching the performance in the sky, the MacArthur shouted triumphantly and ran towards the transporter. “Get the ramp down, Ranger, and be ready for him!”
“You mean he’ll come back?” asked Sir James.
“The daft beast! Of course he’ll come back! All he’s ever met in the sky before are golden eagles. That plane has probably scared the wits oot o’ him.” The MacArthur grabbed Neil’s torch and started to wave it wildly. “Come here, Arthur,” he roared in a mighty voice. “Come here, ye great daft thing!”
“There he is,” shouted the Ranger. “He’s coming in low.”
The plane’s surge of power and dreadful roar had reducedArthur to a shivering bag of nerves. Now totally petrified, he headed like an arrow for home. The MacArthurs saw him coming and scattered for their lives as he came in low, hit the ground at speed and ended up in a tangle of legs and wings, not far from the transporter.
From his perch, high up on the crags, Amgarad looked on with interest and some sympathy. These new monsters of the skies seemed beyond even the power of dragons! And only a few yards from Sir James, Dougal MacLeod also watched the proceedings with interest. In the general excitement, he had managed to free himself and revenge burned deep within him as he
The MacArthurs, to give them their due, did what they could. They made a concerted rush for Arthur, but against a dragon they had their limits. The night air, the starry sky and the limitless curve of the heavens had woken old memories in Arthur. With a few effortless flaps of his wings he left the earth behind and soared skywards, revelling in his new-found freedom.
The MacArthur stomped up to the transporter looking sour.
“What are we going to do now,” gasped Sir James in a panic.
“I wouldn’t worry, Sir James. He’ll no’ be gone long, more’s the pity. Look over yonder!”
Neil grabbed Sir James’s arm. “Look, Sir James! Over there! An aeroplane! It’s coming in to land!”
Sir James paeld. “Oh no!” he gasped in horror. “It’s the London Shuttle!”
“I’d love to see the pilot’s face when he sees Arthur,” said Neil, watching with fascinated eyes as Arthur soared towards the plane.
The pilot of the Shuttle picked Arthur up in the powerful beam of his landing lights and at first refused to believe his eyes. His first incredulous thought was that Arthur was a kite or even a stray balloon but the steadily beating wings and supple movement of his body soon banished that idea from his mind. This was a living, flying dragon straight from the pagesof a storybook.
“What the devil?” he said savagely to his co-pilot as he banked hard to avoid colliding with Arthur. His co-pilot, in much the same state of disbelief, shook his head in amazement. “A dragon! But … but, they don’t exist … do they?”
“This one looks pretty solid to me!” muttered the pilot grimly as he banked again.
Dragons, as one would expect, don’t rate highly in any of the emergency procedures that pilots routinely follow. The Air Traffic Controller at Edinburgh Airport, enquiring politely as to why flight B6672 had left its flight-path to career wildly across his radar screen was not amused to be told by the pilot that he was trying to avoid a dragon, especially when the blips on his radar screen showed nothing of the sort.
“I don’t care if you’re not picking anything else up,” snarled the pilot, craning his neck to see where Arthur had got to. “Why don’t you just look out of your window?”
And against the backdrop of the night sky the Air Traffic controller saw the shape of the dragon, and watched in horror as Arthur flapped interestedly around the Shuttle.
Clara watched in dismay as the pilot put his aircraft into a steep climb. As it soared upwards, the resultant turbulence hit Arthur full on and sent him tumbling head over tail in a wild spin that left him disoriented and dizzy. Watching the performance in the sky, the MacArthur shouted triumphantly and ran towards the transporter. “Get the ramp down, Ranger, and be ready for him!”
“You mean he’ll come back?” asked Sir James.
“The daft beast! Of course he’ll come back! All he’s ever met in the sky before are golden eagles. That plane has probably scared the wits oot o’ him.” The MacArthur grabbed Neil’s torch and started to wave it wildly. “Come here, Arthur,” he roared in a mighty voice. “Come here, ye great daft thing!”
“There he is,” shouted the Ranger. “He’s coming in low.”
The plane’s surge of power and dreadful roar had reducedArthur to a shivering bag of nerves. Now totally petrified, he headed like an arrow for home. The MacArthurs saw him coming and scattered for their lives as he came in low, hit the ground at speed and ended up in a tangle of legs and wings, not far from the transporter.
From his perch, high up on the crags, Amgarad looked on with interest and some sympathy. These new monsters of the skies seemed beyond even the power of dragons! And only a few yards from Sir James, Dougal MacLeod also watched the proceedings with interest. In the general excitement, he had managed to free himself and revenge burned deep within him as he
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