The Green Monkey sank gently into the earth for a little way and then tumbled swiftly through space, landing on a rocky floor with a thump that astonished him. Then he sat up, found that no bones were broken, and gazed around him.  
He seemed to be in a big underground cave, which was dimly lighted by dozens of big round discs that looked like moons. They were not moons, however, as Woot discovered when he had examined the place more carefully. They were eyes. The eyes were in the heads of enormous beasts whose bodies trailed far behind them. Each beast was bigger than an elephant, and three times as long, and there were a dozen or more of the creatures scattered here and there about the cavern. On their bodies were big scales, as round as pie-plates, which were beautifully tinted in shades of green, purple and orange. On the ends of their long tails were clusters of jewels. Around the great, moon-like eyes were circles of diamonds which sparkled in the subdued light that glowed from the eyes.
 
Woot saw that the creatures had wide mouths and rows of terrible teeth and, from tales he had heard of such beings, he knew he had fallen into a cavern inhabited by the great Dragons that had been driven from the surface of the earth and were only allowed to come out once in a hundred years to search for food. Of course he had never seen Dragons before, yet there was no mistaking them, for they were unlike any other living creatures.
 
Woot sat upon the floor where he had fallen, staring around, and the owners of the big eyes returned his look, silently and motionless. Finally one of the Dragons which was farthest away from him asked, in a deep, grave voice:
 
"What was that?"
 
And the greatest Dragon of all, who was just in front of the Green Monkey, answered in a still deeper voice:
 
"It is some foolish animal from Outside."
 
"Is it good to eat?" inquired a smaller Dragon beside the great one. "I'm hungry."
 
"Hungry!" exclaimed all the Dragons, in a reproachful chorus; and then the great one said chidingly: "Tut-tut, my son! You've no reason to be hungry at this time."
 
"Why not?" asked the little Dragon. "I haven't eaten anything in eleven years."
 
"Eleven years is nothing," remarked another Dragon, sleepily opening and closing his eyes; "I haven't feasted for eighty-seven years, and I dare not get hungry for a dozen or so years to come. Children who eat between meals should be broken of the habit."
 
"All I had, eleven years ago, was a rhinoceros, and that's not a full meal at all," grumbled the young one. "And, before that, I had waited sixty-two years to be fed; so it's no wonder I'm hungry."
 
"How old are you now?" asked Woot, forgetting his own dangerous position in his interest in the conversation.
 
"Why, I'm—I'm—How old am I, Father?" asked the little Dragon.
 
"Goodness gracious! what a child to ask questions. Do you want to keep me thinking all the time? Don't you know that thinking is very bad for Dragons?" returned the big one, impatiently.
 
"How old am I, Father?" persisted the small Dragon.
 
"About six hundred and thirty, I believe. Ask your mother."
 
"No; don't!" said an old Dragon in the background; "haven't I enough worries, what with being wakened in the middle of a nap, without being obliged to keep track of my children's ages?"
 
"You've been fast asleep for over sixty years, Mother," said the child Dragon. "How long a nap do you wish?"
 
"I should have slept forty years longer. And this strange little green beast should be punished for falling into our cavern and disturbing us."
 
"I didn't know you were here, and I didn't know I was going to fall in," explained Woot.
 
"Nevertheless, here you are," said the great Dragon, "and you have carelessly wakened our entire tribe; so it stands to reason you must be punished."
 
"In what ............