watched everyone dashing towards the dragon.
“Get Arthur over here, quickly!” Sir James shouted anxiously. “There’s bound to be trouble!”
“Trouble?” Neil asked.
“The police, Neil! They’re bound to have contacted them. They’ll be here any minute, I should imagine. Look, you and Clara had better get into the cab of the transporter. Once we get Arthur inside, we won’t be hanging around!”
Arthur, still in a state of shock and frantically trying to hide his head under his wings, was refusing to move. The MacArthur went over to him and gave him a great buffet with his arm.
“Come on, Arthur! Get moving! Up the ramp with you! Remember, you’re on your way to see your Nessie and we’re all coming with you,” he said determinedly.
Arthur opened a wonderful eye that was quite unlike any other eye that Sir James had ever seen. It blinked resignedly as he heaved himself grudgingly to his feet and obediently clawed his way up the ramp into the gaping maw of the transporter.
“In with you all!” screamed the MacArthur. In an instant the MacArthurs ran to the flock of sheep being held beside the transporter and, to Sir James’s amazement, seemed to dissolve into them. Watching from behind the rocks, Dougal MacLeod, too, watched with incredulous eyes. The MacArthurs seemedto have melted into the sheep, who now seemed to be sheep with a mission! As one, the flock moved purposefully towards the transporter and, in minutes, had pushed and scrambled its way up the ramp to join Arthur.
When the last sheep was bundled in, Sir James and the MacArthur hastily raised the ramp and fastened the metal pegs that held the back doors in place before running to the front of the enormous vehicle and climbing hurriedly into the cab. The Ranger started the engine and, with a clashing of gears, the huge transporter lurched forward. Slowly and carefully it moved down the slope and set off for the distant shores of Loch Ness.
13. Firestones
Dougal MacLeod, however, didn’t wait to see it leave and didn’t care where it was going. Whilst everyone’s attention had been concentrated on the dragon, his mind pictured an empty cave and unguarded treasure. Indeed, the memory of the wonderful jewels in Arthur’s cave had haunted him ever since he had first seen them. Now that the dragon had left the hill, and most of the MacArthurs with him, it seemed an ideal opportunity to return to the cave to take one more look at the fabulous stones.
Although he told himself that he merely wanted to see them again, Dougal knew in his heart that he really meant to take them. In truth, he was powerless to think otherwise since the fault lay in the stones themselves, for they were magic stones and it was their power that drew Dougal helplessly to them.
He was careful to enter the hill from the entrance that he had discovered on the lower slopes and it didn’t take him long to reach the entrance to Arthur’s cave. He shone a torch round its high walls and then, confident that he was alone, illuminated the treasure itself. Lying as Arthur had left it, it lay strewn untidily across the floor of the cave in scattered heaps that glittered and sparkled in the torchlight.
The fiery amber stones drew Dougal like a magnet. Uncaringly, he scrunched and slipped over gold and priceless jewels to reach the pieces that held the stones. Kneeling on top of a mound of treasure, his eyes shone as he held up a delicate belt of gold filigree studded with stones the size of sovereigns, a fabulous ring and a most beautiful necklace, all of which glowed with the mysterious and irresistible amber fire.
Something made him look into the darkness and conscious that he had been in the cave for some time, he hurriedly tiedthe wonderful jewels in his handkerchief and made to leave. He shivered. The darkness that surrounded him had become strangely oppressive and, although it might have been his imagination, he thought that he heard a slight sound.
Flashing his
“Get Arthur over here, quickly!” Sir James shouted anxiously. “There’s bound to be trouble!”
“Trouble?” Neil asked.
“The police, Neil! They’re bound to have contacted them. They’ll be here any minute, I should imagine. Look, you and Clara had better get into the cab of the transporter. Once we get Arthur inside, we won’t be hanging around!”
Arthur, still in a state of shock and frantically trying to hide his head under his wings, was refusing to move. The MacArthur went over to him and gave him a great buffet with his arm.
“Come on, Arthur! Get moving! Up the ramp with you! Remember, you’re on your way to see your Nessie and we’re all coming with you,” he said determinedly.
Arthur opened a wonderful eye that was quite unlike any other eye that Sir James had ever seen. It blinked resignedly as he heaved himself grudgingly to his feet and obediently clawed his way up the ramp into the gaping maw of the transporter.
“In with you all!” screamed the MacArthur. In an instant the MacArthurs ran to the flock of sheep being held beside the transporter and, to Sir James’s amazement, seemed to dissolve into them. Watching from behind the rocks, Dougal MacLeod, too, watched with incredulous eyes. The MacArthurs seemedto have melted into the sheep, who now seemed to be sheep with a mission! As one, the flock moved purposefully towards the transporter and, in minutes, had pushed and scrambled its way up the ramp to join Arthur.
When the last sheep was bundled in, Sir James and the MacArthur hastily raised the ramp and fastened the metal pegs that held the back doors in place before running to the front of the enormous vehicle and climbing hurriedly into the cab. The Ranger started the engine and, with a clashing of gears, the huge transporter lurched forward. Slowly and carefully it moved down the slope and set off for the distant shores of Loch Ness.
13. Firestones
Dougal MacLeod, however, didn’t wait to see it leave and didn’t care where it was going. Whilst everyone’s attention had been concentrated on the dragon, his mind pictured an empty cave and unguarded treasure. Indeed, the memory of the wonderful jewels in Arthur’s cave had haunted him ever since he had first seen them. Now that the dragon had left the hill, and most of the MacArthurs with him, it seemed an ideal opportunity to return to the cave to take one more look at the fabulous stones.
Although he told himself that he merely wanted to see them again, Dougal knew in his heart that he really meant to take them. In truth, he was powerless to think otherwise since the fault lay in the stones themselves, for they were magic stones and it was their power that drew Dougal helplessly to them.
He was careful to enter the hill from the entrance that he had discovered on the lower slopes and it didn’t take him long to reach the entrance to Arthur’s cave. He shone a torch round its high walls and then, confident that he was alone, illuminated the treasure itself. Lying as Arthur had left it, it lay strewn untidily across the floor of the cave in scattered heaps that glittered and sparkled in the torchlight.
The fiery amber stones drew Dougal like a magnet. Uncaringly, he scrunched and slipped over gold and priceless jewels to reach the pieces that held the stones. Kneeling on top of a mound of treasure, his eyes shone as he held up a delicate belt of gold filigree studded with stones the size of sovereigns, a fabulous ring and a most beautiful necklace, all of which glowed with the mysterious and irresistible amber fire.
Something made him look into the darkness and conscious that he had been in the cave for some time, he hurriedly tiedthe wonderful jewels in his handkerchief and made to leave. He shivered. The darkness that surrounded him had become strangely oppressive and, although it might have been his imagination, he thought that he heard a slight sound.
Flashing his
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