snarling.
âHammie!â cried Abigail. âDonât let him get you!â
Each creature clung to a mouthful of its opponentâs flesh as reptile and mammal struggled to outlast the otherâs grip.
The battle raged on for several moments, and then, little by little, the flailing subsided. From where the children stood, it was impossible to tell which creature was weakening: the lizard, the dogâor both.
Abigail buried her face in Arthurâs tattered shirt. âOh, Arthur,â she wept, âheâll be okay, wonât he? Heâs got to be okay!â
Arthur wrapped his arm around his sister, but said nothing.
The once thrashing creatures were all but still now, their savage sounds reduced to muffled gurgling. Arthur held his sister close and exchanged a woeful glance with Ruby.
Then the dog began to stir.
âAbigail, look!â Arthur cried.
As the girl turned her head to see, Hamlet drew his hind legs beneath his body and, with a quick twist of his mid-section, raised his hindquarters into the air. With far greater difficulty, the dog straightened his front legs and hoisted his neck off the ground. In his jaws, Hamlet still gripped the wrinkled throat of the Komodo dragon, its head now dangling to one side.
âHammie!â cried Abigail.
The dog gave the lizardâs neck a feeble yet triumphant shake, then tossed its lifeless body to the ground. With his tongue hanging happily from his mouth, Hamlet stepped over the carcass and limped toward his human companions.
As the dog drew near, Arthur sensed something amiss in his appearance. In the light of the moon, he could just make out a large dark patch of matted fur on the dogâs chest and left front leg.
When he reached the children, Hamlet licked Abigailâs face, then collapsed exhaustedly at her feet. As the dog lay panting proudly, the little girl knelt down beside him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her nose into his fur.
âGood boy, Hammie. Good boy,â she whispered.
âThanks, boy,â said Arthur, scratching the dog between the ears. âIf it werenât for you, Iâd be lizard food.â
There was a rustling noise from the nearby Sim-o-Trees, accompanied by the bobbing beam of a flashlight. The next moment, Uncle Mervyn burst into the clearing.
âI heard screaming. . . .â he spluttered.
His flashlight beam quickly shifted from the childrenâs filthy faces and torn clothes to the massive, twisted corpse of the Komodo dragon.
âOh my!â he exclaimed, rushing toward them. âChildren, are you all right?!â
âWeâre fine, Uncle Mervyn,â said Arthur. âThanks to Hamlet.â
âAnd Arthur,â added Abigail. âThe lizard wouldâve grabbed me long before Hammie could get here, if it werenât for him . . . not to mention Ruby. She helped me out of the treeâand sheâs not even a member of my team.â
Ruby smiled bashfully.
âWell done, all of you,â said Uncle Mervyn. âYour parents will be horrified when they hear whatâs happened.â
Uncle Mervyn raised his megaphone to his mouth and depressed the button. âGame over!â he called, his voice echoing through the empty night air. He removed a pistol from his pocket and shot a burning red flare into the sky overhead. âI repeatâthe game is over! There has been a serious incident! All competitors reconvene at once!â
Before he had even finished the announcement, Mr. and Mrs. Whipple and several of their children rushed into the clearing.
âWhatâs happened?â inquired a distraught Mrs. Whipple.
âWe heard screaming and barking from the other side of the estate,â her husband added. âWe came as fast as we . . .â
Uncle Mervyn shined the flashlight on the monstrous heap of scales and teeth. Arthurâs parents gasped.
âAbigail! Arthur!â