|
|
In 1673, a Jesuit priest named Father Jacques Marquette came across an enormous petrglyph a monstrous beast, carved and paintedon the limestone bluff above the Missippi River in Illinois. The image is gone now, the limestone cracked and fallen away, (either sometime around 1846-47, or 1856-57), due to quarrying being conducted nearby.
It has been described by others as well, generally being described as having four legs, powerful claws, a very long tail, and two wings. It was said to have been 30 feet long, 12 feet tall, painted in bluish-green, black and red, with a wingspan of perhaps 16-18 feet. It was also said to have possessed antlers, a row of spines down its back, and a face resembling a man's.
When finally asked, the local Illini Indians readily identified the creature. It was quite familiar to them, having been painted by their forefathers, and they called the great creature "Piasa," meaning "the bird that devours man." The story they tell is somewhat different than my own, for I am telling it to you from our own perspective; that is, from the point of view of the dragons.
The river was grand, greater than any other river on the continent, and the cavern was deep, perfectly situated in the cliffs above the river. Beyond, broad flood plains supported numerous deer and other large prey. Here the dragon who would be called The Piasa made his home.
So idea was this paradise that the Piasa drew a mate, and she too chose to overlook that which no dragon may ever ignore - the presence of man. Long have we cursed the vanity which inspired that wretched angel to imitate our form; long have we endured the enmity placed between mankind and ourselves by the obscure wisdom of God. It has been difficult.
For some time both men and dragons lived peaceably, side by side as it were, aware of one another yet neither molesting the other. Together the Piasa and his mate produced a fine clutch of eggs, but in the year it took them to hatch, trouble was brewing. The dragonets were but recently hatched when a fierce battle broke out among the humans.
Many died, and the pain and grieving of he humans, (too intense and numerous to easily block out), was inflicted upon the telepathic dragons. The hatchlings, so new to the world, were in a frenzy and no amount of comforting could calm them. Thus tormented, the Piasa flew out after the battle and searched the dead for the dying, dispatching them. Then, having slain, he ate and bore home the remainder of his kill.
It is not known for certain, but it is possible, even likely, that the Piasa, driven by the anguish of the dragonets, entered the camp of the Illini and slew the dying there as well. Even this might have been forgotten (if not forgiven) had the Piasa not continued to hunt the Illini. But such is the folly of our race.
Though most large predators find the taste of humans offensive, since the time of Eve, men have bee a natural prey of dragons. Too salty for others, such a concentration is not only tasty, but of great benefit to us when preparing for times of dormancy. The salt, you see, helps us to retain our fluid levels.
The Illini, of course, would not continue to tolerate the predations against their tribe, and so a great meeting was held among all their members. The following dawn a brave warrior named Massatoga made his way to the banks of the Mississippi River. Facing the direction from which the Piasa always came, he raised his arms and cried out in a clear voice, issuing challenge.
The Piasa would ordinarily have simply ignored him; being telepathic, he was fully aware that a trap had been laid. Massatoga's challenge, however, was issued as a prayer to the Great Spirit for the deliverance of the tribe. His own life was in serious jeopardy, (it is told among us that Massatoga did not in fact expect to survive), but he was willing to sacrifice himself for the good of his people.
For this bravery the Piasa had great respect, and so he honored Massatoga's challenge. He did not go with arrogance, neither did he expect to quickly dispatch Massatoga. He did not even necessarily expect to survive. The outcome of their encounter would be up to the Great Spirit.
When the Piasa appeared, Massatoga lowered his arms and fell silent, standing his ground as the dragon approached. Then, because the Piasa respected Massatoga, he spoke to him. This was something which Massatoga had not expected, and he was deeply shaken. But still he held his ground even though the Piasa gave him to understand that he knew of their plans to ambush him.
This too the Piasa respected and he determined to fight this duel according to their rules. That is to say, the Piasa did not slow his speed when at that last moment Massatoga began to run, but when he reached the safety of the sheltering trees, the Piasa folded his great wings and landed, continuing the fight on the ground as was their intent.
There the ambush had been laid, and twenty warriors leapt forth from their hiding places to attack. Even so, the fight was an even match. The Piasa measure 30 feet in length, stood 12 feet in height, and his wings stretched to 18 feet across. Each of his great ebony claws was the equal of a sword, and his body was armored in hard scales. Within his jaws were set terrible teeth, two rows above and one row below.
The fight began. The warriors surrounded the Piasa, swiftly shooting arrows tipped with poison. The Piasa lashed his tail, sweeping one warrior from his feet witht he first swipe and two with the second. With one great clap of his wings the warrior before him fell to the ground unconscious. Another was crushed between his jaws, and yet another as well. Meanwhile, their arrows were falling to the ground, unable to pierce his scales.
They fell back then, out of reach of tooth and claw, though not retreating. In front of the Piasa stood Massatoga once more, armed now with bow and arrow. Once again, the Piasa opened his thoughts to him.
The man was awed but undeterred, now was that the Piasa's intent. Rather, if they were to fight one another, they would fight as equals, not as predator and prey, not as man and beast. It is rumored among us that in this communion Massatoga learned what he must do. Whichever the case, Massatoga and his companions proved courageous enough to carry it out.
Attacking once again, several harried the Piasa's sides while the rest came from the front. With bravery and bowmanship, one of them succeeded in hitting the Piasa's tongue. The man died immediately after, crushed in the Piasa's jaws, but one would rightly claim that he gave his fellows the victory.
Slowed now by the poison from the arrow, the Piasa was wounded again, and again. Through perseverance, bravery and bowmanship combined, they eventually succeeded in blinding the great dragon. His scream of agony echoed against the cliffs and rocked the souls of the warriors. Grim and determined, they continued to finish what they had begun. One man's neck was broken by a thrashing wing, but beyond that they lost no more, and within an hour, the great Piasa was dead.
At the point of his death, a second distant cry of anguish echoed across the water. The grief of the Piasa's mate was deep and Massatoga shuddered as she opened her thoughts to him. She would not retaliate and she would not hunt among the humans. But, she gave him to understand, her dragonets she would defend fiercely.
To sanctify their truce, unhappy though it was, the Illini painted the immense portrait of the Piasa and his mate. Both were portrayed with human-like faces, and while this made them unavoidably ugly and deformed, it was meant to honor the sentience within. She accepted this tribute as intended. The hatchlings were raised without further incident, and when they were old enough they went their separate ways. The dragoness lingered for several weeks more, reminising, then she too departed that paradise inhabited by men.
