Nick West - The Mystery of the Coughing Dragon

He pointed offshore to a clumsy-looking craft trailing its rig. “They don’t look like they’re going anywhere in a hurry. Maybe they’re on a dragon hunt, too.”

Jupiter looked out and shook his head. “We don’t have to worry about what’s out that far. All we have to do is cover the shoreline round here.”

He ran his eye from the cave in the distance towards the water. “We should see tracks somewhere in this area. I suggest we spread out a little.”

They separated and walked slowly along the beach, scrutinizing the sand closely.

“All I see is a lot of seaweed piled up,” Bob said.

“Me, too,” Pete said. “Plus some seashells and a lot of driftwood.”

Bob shook his head finally. “No sign of any kind of tracks, Jupe. Could the tide have washed them away?”

Jupe tugged at his lip. “Possibly here, close to the water. But there’s plenty of dry sand for tracks all the way up to the cave. Let’s go up and look.”

“Do we have to?” asked Pete. “What if the dragon is in the cave? What are we opposed to do — fight it off with our bare hands?”

“I don’t expect us to have to fight anything, Pete,” Jupe said. “We’ll approach the cave entrance carefully. And we won’t go inside unless we’re certain it’s safe enough.”

Pete scowled. Then he stooped and picked up a long piece of driftwood. “Well, I don’t know how much good this will do me. But I’ll feel a lot safer with some kind of club in my hands.”

Bob picked up another piece of wood, part of an oar with the blade broken off. ”You have the right idea, Pete,” he said. “I remember seeing pictures of St George and the dragon. He didn’t use old drift wood, either. He was smart. He had a nice long sword.”

He brandished his long oar, then glanced at Jupiter. “Don’t you want some kind of weapon, too, Jupe? We can go back for those broken railings, if you like. They’ve still got some of the nails set in them. Nice long ones.”

Jupiter smiled and shrugged. “I suppose it won’t hurt to carry something.”

With that, he reached down and picked up a long, wet plank from the debris along the shore. He put it on his shoulder and glanced at his companions.

Bob and Pete smiled weakly. Then, with resolutely set faces and quaking hearts, the boys walked slowly towards the dark opening in the face of the cliff.

They crossed the slight ridge near the waterline, scanning the sand each foot of the way. Suddenly Jupiter stopped. His eyes were bright.

“Here’s something,” he said softly.

Bob and Pete looked down. There were unmistakable depressions in the loose soft sand.

“This dragon must be a new type,” Bob said finally. “It looks like it’s running on wheels.”

Jupiter nodded. He looked up and down the beach. “I don’t see anything. But these look like the tracks of some kind of vehicle. Maybe a beach buggy. Some times lifeguards use a jeep or beach buggy to patrol a long area, such as this.”

“Maybe,” Bob said. “But if they were on patrol, these tracks would be heading north and south — the way the beach runs. Instead, they’re heading towards the cave.”

“You’re right, Records,” Jupiter said. He dropped to his knees and studied the depressions.

Bob was scowling, looking back at the water. “I don’t get it. If the tracks show here, why couldn’t we see them near the water?”

“A heavy running tide and high breakers would wash them away, I guess,” Jupiter said.

Pete grinned. “I guess old Mr. Allen’s eyes aren’t too reliable. Instead of a dragon, what he probably saw was a jeep or something.”

“Possibly,” Jupiter answered. “In any event, when we get to the cave we’ll find out one way or the other.”

Ten yards from the cave, the tracks disappeared completely.

The boys looked at each other.

“Another mystery,” Pete said.

They reached the mouth of the cave. It looked empty.

“This opening is almost big enough for a bus,” Bob said. “I’ll take a look inside and see how far back it goes.”

Jupiter peered inside the cave. “All right, Bob. But stay within shouting distance. Pete and I will be with you, as soon as we check the entrance for any clues.”

Bob brandished his spearlike weapon and walked into the cave.

“What makes him so brave, all of a sudden?” Pete asked.

Jupiter smiled. “Once we saw the tracks were made by a man-made vehicle, rather than a fantastic creature such as a dragon, I think we all got a lot braver.”

He cocked his head, as if listening.

“Perhaps we can tell from the echo of Bob’s voice how large the cave is.” He raised his voice. “Just checking, Bob — how are things in there?”

Pete inclined his head, too, in a listening attitude. They heard the sound together. A heavy plopping sound.

Then they heard Bob’s voice. It was thin and high-pitched. He spoke only one word but it filled them with terror.

“Help!”

As Jupiter and Pete stared wide-eyed into the dimly lit cave, they heard Bob cry out again.

“Help! Help me!”

“Bob’s in trouble!” Pete exclaimed. “Come on!”

Pete, the most muscular and athletic of the trio, darted into the cave. Jupiter tried to keep up with Pete’s flying feet.

“Not so fast, Pete,” Jupiter said. “He’s not too far away, and we have to be careful not to — ”

He never completed his sentence. In the gloom of the cave, he suddenly ran into something hard that knocked the wind out of him. He fell to his knees.

Then he heard Pete’s voice.

“Stay back, Jupe! I’ve found him!”

“Where, Pete? I can’t see.”

Jupiter blinked. Then his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cave. He saw Pete was on his hands and knees in front of him.

“He’s down a hole,” Pete said. “I stopped just in time.”

“I can’t see,” Jupiter said. He tried to peer around Pete’s shoulder. “Bob,” he called. “Where are you?” Bob’s voice was so close, he jumped.

“Down here!” Bob cried. “I fell into some kind of a pit. It seems to be dragging me down!”

“Yipes!” Pete exclaimed. “Quicksand!”

“Impossible,” Jupiter said. “Quicksand is usually found in tropical countries.”

He wriggled round Pete, carefully feeling the cavern floor with his hands. “I still can’t see him. Bob, can you see us?”

“Yes,” Bob said. “I’m almost directly under you.”

Jupiter leaned over, extending his arm. “Just reach up and grab my hand, Bob. Pete and I will pull you out.”

They heard dull plopping sounds below.

“I c-can’t!” they heard Bob say after a moment. “Whenever I try, I seem to sink deeper!”

“Push your stick up,” Pete suggested. “That broken oar you were holding. Jupe and I could pull you out in a second.”

“I can’t”, Bob said despairingly. “I dropped it when I fell in here.”

Pete looked at his piece of driftwood and groaned. “Mine’s too light to hold you.”

Jupiter was wriggling cautiously round the edge of the pit. “Hang on, Bob,” he said. “I’m circling the pit to try to get some idea of its size.”

He crawled slowly away.

“Hurry!” Bob cried. “This is no time for measuring things.”

“I’ve got to,” Jupiter replied. “It’s the only way I can think of to get you out.”

He made his way in the darkness on his hands and knees. Bits of earth dropped into the pit, despite his care.

“Watch it!” Bob cried out. “You’re starting a landslide!”

“Sorry,” Jupiter said. “It’s the loose dirt round the edges.”

In another moment, he had completely circled the pit and rejoined Pete. “I think we can manage it.” He called down to Bob again. “Bob, can you tell us if you are touching bottom?” They heard thrashing sounds below. Then spluttering, spitting noises.