Impediments upon the North Road

I had expected to reach Marchford by supper. This expectation rested upon a serviceable steam carriage, twenty-six miles of tolerable road, and the assurance of the posting-master that nothing unusual had occurred that week. When pressed, he admitted that a juvenile Dragon had been troubling the milestone beyond Ganton’s Cut, but considered this irrelevant because the milestone belonged to the county. I explained that obstructions do not acquire geographical modesty through public ownership, and engaged a driver who had seen the Dragon herself. Mrs Anstey described him as young, inquisitive, and inclined to put things elsewhere. I should have asked which things.

We found him lying across the road with the milestone between his forefeet. He had excavated it entire, including a considerable depth of foundation, and was licking the buried end. His length exceeded that of our carriage; the comparatively small head and disproportionately large feet gave him an appearance of immaturity which the scoring upon the granite rendered unhelpful. I instructed Mrs Anstey to stop well short of him. She had already done so. I took out my glass and began dictating a description, as I do when a subject may not stay to be drawn. While I was doing so, he rose, carried the stone to the verge, and withdrew uphill. We proceeded. He descended ahead of us and returned the milestone to the road, approximately thirty yards from its original position. I cannot say whether his placement was more accurate than the county surveyor’s. It was certainly more effective.

Mrs Anstey suggested the quarry lane. I objected that abandoning a public road at the first difficulty would leave us at the mercy of every irregularity upon it, and proposed determining whether the Dragon objected to the carriage’s noise. We shut off steam. He watched. I requested that Mrs Anstey move the starting lever without admitting pressure. He immediately fetched a dead fir and laid it across the road beside the stone. The lever therefore appeared significant, though I had also raised my hand. To separate these circumstances, I raised my hand again while Mrs Anstey remained motionless. He brought another fir. “You’ll have a forest by dinner,” she observed. I told her the remark was premature, then requested that she refrain from touching anything while I considered the evidence.

The Dragon now did something for which neither machinery nor gesture offered a satisfactory explanation. He walked to a shallow pool, immersed his lower jaw, returned to within twelve yards of us, and allowed the water to run out upon the road. He repeated this operation with evident care. Between journeys he looked towards my window. I had begun to suspect that he was attempting to drink when Mrs Anstey pointed out that he had swallowed perfectly well at the pool before we arrived. I dislike having an attractive explanation removed before I have properly recorded it, but hers was decisive. On his next approach I remained silent. He waited with water dripping from his chin until I resumed dictation, whereupon he emptied the remainder in a broad splash. Mrs Anstey laughed. He looked at her, then at me, and went back for more.

By this time I had descended on the far side of the carriage, keeping its boiler between us. I told him, distinctly, that we wished to pass and requested that he put the smaller tree beside the larger. He did so at once, though he laid it upon the larger, making a more formidable barrier. This established that my request had produced a relevant response; it left the extent of his understanding unsettled. I said “Beside” again and indicated the verge. He picked up the smaller fir, carried it around the carriage, and put it beside me. I withdrew rather quickly. His jaws had closed through its trunk as easily as my paper-knife passes through a folded sheet. The tree’s arrival struck the ground hard enough to shake mud from the wheel above my collar. I record these particulars because Mrs Anstey’s subsequent account has concentrated excessively upon my manner of withdrawal.

We took the quarry lane. I made the decision myself after establishing that further investigation would chiefly increase our stock of timber. For half a mile the Dragon followed along the ridge, occasionally disappearing behind the rocks. Then my travelling rug descended into the road before us; it had been strapped to the rear of the carriage. Mrs Anstey stopped; I recovered it; we continued. At the next bend it descended again. I had personally secured the second knot. Inspection showed that the strap remained attached to the rug and that the brass rail to which I had fastened it remained attached to the strap. Here was an objection to my method which deserved immediate acceptance. We put the rug inside.

At the quarry gate I tried an experiment of greater consequence. I stepped down with my notebook and walked back along the lane while Mrs Anstey drove slowly towards the gate. The Dragon followed me. When I stopped and opened the book, he settled upon his haunches. When I began speaking, he pushed a loose rock downhill with one forefoot. I shut the book. He waited. I opened it, remained silent, and received no rock. I then delivered two sentences upon the deplorable state of the road, and he pushed another. The rocks came nowhere near me, although I had no intention of relying upon his judgement indefinitely. I had acquired a travelling companion whose interest appeared particularly engaged by my public explanations. Mrs Anstey, now beyond the gate, called this a reasonable preference.

I reached Marchford after dark, having spent the remaining journey inside the carriage with the blinds drawn and my observations confined to writing. Whether the Dragon sought my frustration, enjoyed the movements by which I expressed it, or had attached some private significance to a speaking man with a notebook, I do not know. My silence was followed by his departure, which supports several explanations and proves none. I shall return with better arrangements for distinguishing them. Mrs Anstey has agreed to drive, provided I pay by the day and accept her authority concerning stops. These terms are severe, but her observations were consistently sound, and she has promised to keep her account of the fir tree out of the Marchford papers.