The Third Armada Monster Book
INTRODUCTION
Welcome to the third book of monsters.
Once again I have managed to find some unusual monsters; strange and wonderful creatures that I am certain you have never met before. Let us run very quickly through the eleven stories, so that you may have some idea of what to expect.
The Story of the Three Young Shepherds by Ruth Manning-Sanders. Three young shepherds set up house in a strange valley, which has a terrible monster living in a stone castle at the far end. A very nasty situation.
Next time you visit an old church or cathedral, look up at the roof and the chances are you will see The Gargoyle which will be very like the one depicted in the story by Roger Malisson. But what would you do if it suddenly became alive?
The Story of Giant Dumpling and how he became a Hero by John Cunliffe. Giant Dumpling was very fat—the result of being fed on honey—and very lazy and a terrible coward. You must read this story and find out how he became a hero.
I expect you have seen at least one giant crane on a building site, but have you ever thought what would happen if it suddenly acquired a life of its own and went on the rampage? That is exactly what does happen in The Machine Monster by Daphne Froome.
Nathaniel Hawthorne was clever in retelling stories from Greek mythology and The Three Golden Apples tells us of the exciting adventures of Hercules when he was sent by his cousin, the king, to the Garden of the Hesperides and ordered to bring back three golden apples that grew on a tree guarded by a dragon with a hundred heads.
The Serpent and the Cockatrice by Pamela Cleaver introduces us to yet another new monster. A cockatrice is a cross between a snake and a cockerel. Honestly.
Twelve Great Black Cats and the Red One by Sorche Nic Leodhas. Thirteen brand new monsters! Great cats no less, that terrify poor Murdo MacTaggart when he goes fishing on All Hallowmass Eve.
Sydney J. Bounds describes The Valley of the Monsters, where you will find some of the most incredible creatures imaginable . . . And if you want to know what a “Meaty” is—read Visitor in the Night by Rosemary Timperley. I wouldn’t care to have it looking through my bedroom window on a dark night.
Prince Prigio and the Firedrake by Andrew Lang. Here is an excellent opportunity for you to make the acquaintance of two little known monsters—the Firedrake and the Remora.
Last of all my own story The Harpy. Well, now—what can I say? It’s true of course. Every single word. You must believe that.
I do hope you enjoy this little book and if by chance you have missed the other two, make certain that this oversight is corrected at once.
R. Chetwynd-Hayes
THE STORY OF THE THREE YOUNG SHEPHERDS
By Ruth Manning-Sanders
There was a peasant who owned a great flock of sheep. And when this peasant grew old and ill, and knew that he must soon die, he called his three sons to his bedside, and said, “Sons, go into the forest, gather a big bundle of sticks, bind the bundle together with a strong rope, and bring it to me.”
Well, the sons did that: they gathered the sticks, bound them together with rope, and brought the bundle to their father.
“Now,” said the old peasant, “break these sticks into fragments.”
“But, Father,” said the eldest son, “in order to do that, we must first undo the rope that binds the sticks together.”
The peasant answered, “My son, you speak truly. And as it is with this bundle of sticks, so it shall be with you three lads. Together no man shall break you: but apart you are but brittle. Promise me now that when I am gone you will stay together, and never divide the flock of sheep.”
So the sons promised; and the old peasant died in peace.
Well, the lads kept their promise. Every morning, after they had milked the ewes, one lad drove the great flock of sheep to pasture on the grassy hills that surrounded their cottage, whilst the other two stayed at home, and saw to the making of butter and cheese. And these duties they took in turns. But when shearing time came, they all three worked together. When the shearing was done, two of them set off for market, drawing the piled up wool in a handcart, and sold the wool for a good price. But, remembering their father’s custom, they never slaughtered or sold either sheep or lamb. And their flock grew ever greater: and the three lads lived for a year or two in perfect harmony and happiness.
But then came a time of drought: month after month no rain fell, the grass on the hills wilted and turned brown, the sheep were half famished, and grew so thin and weak that they could scarce walk.
“Oh me, our poor sheep—what can we do?” cried the eldest lad, Konrad. And the second lad, Fabian wiped the tears from his eyes and said, “It seems we can do nothing but watch them die!”
But the youngest lad, Karl, said “No, no! We must not let them die! Let us seek new pastures on the other side of the great forest. I have heard that a river flows there, and where there is a river, the grass may yet be green. Come, let us set out at once, and drive the flock there, whilst yet the poor beasts can stand on their legs!”
So that’s what they did. They packed a few needful utensils—buckets, pannikins, shears, churn, and such like—into the handcart, locked up their cottage, and set off through the forest, driving their flock before them. For seven whole weeks they were driving their feeble flock through that great forest, but at last they came to the end of it. And where did they find themselves? In a broad fertile valley, where grass grew green and flowers grew bright, and a river flowed placidly among sheltering willows.
“Ah, why did we not come here before!” cried Konrad.
Then two of them set to work cutting down the willows and making a cabin, whilst the third watched over the flock, milked the ewes, and made the cheese and butter. And it wasn’t long before the sheep grew fat and strong again; and it seemed to the three lads that they had discovered a little paradise, inhabited only by their three selves.
But at the head of the valley was a great stone castle; though from where the lads kept their flocks this castle was hidden by the windings of the valley, and nothing of it could be seen but the tops of one or two huge stone chimneys standing up among the trees—chimneys that the lads took to be great grey rocks. For what with flock-tending and cabin-building they were yet too busy to explore that end of the valley.
But in the castle lived a monster called Jabor, who considered himself lord over the whole district. And one morning Jabor, thrusting his great head above the trees, thought he saw some tiny creatures moving about over the grass at the farther end of the valley.
Well, at first Jabor didn’t trouble his dull wits to think about what those tiny creatures might be; but when he had seen them again next morning, and again the morning after, he became curious. And that morning, Konrad, as he sat contentedly on the river bank, with the sheep grazing round him, was horrified to see what appeared to be a great mountain charging down upon him—and more horrified when he heard an enormous voice that roared out, “Ha! You miserable midget, what are you doing in my valley?”
Konrad fell on his knees. “Oh my gracious lord, we are three brothers who came here from behind the great forest, from a parched country where our sheep were perishing. We didn’t know that this land belonged to anyone!”
“Ha! So! Three brothers! What? Didn’t know, eh? Well, I will let it pass. Hum! Ha! We will strike up a friendship, and I will help myself to seven of your sheep!”