The Return of the Dragon by Rebecca Rupp

the time.
    Sometimes they found nuts and berries in the woods. Sometimes Sallie’s father caught fish, but not often, because it was very dangerous to light a cooking fire.
    They slept in thickets and in caves, and once in a deserted barn in a little clearing, its roof half fallen in.
    “We must be almost there,” Sallie’s father said one day, when Jamie complained that his feet were tired. “It can’t be much farther now. We’ll come to a big river. It’s called the Ohio. And on the other side, it’s all free country. Once we get there, we’ll be free.”
    But the very next night disaster struck. They were walking along a little grass track through the woods, single file, their way lit only by the moon. There was no sound but the rustle of wind in the leaves. Then, behind them in the distance, there came the sound of barking dogs.
    Sallie’s mother looked back in alarm.
    “Amos!” she whispered. “What’s that?”
    “Let’s go faster,” said Sallie’s father. “There’s nowhere to hide here.”
    They hurried along the little path, as fast as they could go, tripping and stumbling. Sallie’s heart began to pound with fear.
    We’re so close, she thought, so close. They
can’t
catch us now.
    Behind them the barking of dogs got louder, and there was a sound of horses’ hooves and the jingling of harnesses.
    “Those dogs smell something, boys!” a man’s deep voice shouted. “Runaways!”
    The trees suddenly gave way to a long grassy field. Far across it, Sallie could see the dark gleam of flowing water. It was the river.
    “Might as well give it up,” the deep voice shouted. “We’ve got you now!”
    A dog howled.
    Sallie’s mother stumbled and fell. When she tried to get to her feet again, her face twisted with pain. “It’s my ankle!” she gasped. “Amos . . .”
    Sallie’s father handed his bundle of tools to Sallie, and bent and scooped Sallie’s mother up in his arms.
    “We’ll never make it,” Sallie’s mother said.
    “Run!” Sallie’s father shouted. “Sallie! Jamie!
Run!
”
    Oh please, Sallie thought to herself. Oh please, let us make it across the river. Oh please . . .
    And then, miraculously, above them in the sky, where a moment ago there had been nothing but moon and stars, appeared a great flash of glittering gold.
    “Dear Lord,” said Sallie’s father.
    It was the dragon. It hovered high above the trees, long golden neck arched, golden wings outspread.
    Sallie’s mother hid her face in her father’s shirt front.
    Jamie burst into tears.
    Sallie stepped quickly forward. “It’s all right,” she said. “It’s a dragon. And a friend. I met her in the woods before we ran away. I should have told you. But I know she won’t hurt us. I think she’s here to help us.”
    “We could use it,” Sallie’s father said. Behind them the baying of the dogs was growing louder.
    The dragon reared back in the air. There was a whooshing sound of indrawn breath and a sudden roar of flame. The night exploded with light. The dragon shone sun-golden in the air, blowing a blaze of blue flame. At the edge of the wood, the thicket began to burn. Fire licked across the grass. Bushes crackled and burst into flame. Light flickered across the faces of Sallie’s parents and brother. Jamie had stopped crying.
    There was now a wall of fire between Sallie’s family and their pursuers. They heard, faintly, the sound of startled yells and of dogs retreating, yelping now in terror.
    A hot wind struck them. The dragon landed before them in the grass. Politely it inclined its golden head.
    Sallie’s father stepped forward.
    “We have no words to thank you, sir,” he began.
    “Ma’am,” Sallie hissed hastily behind him.
    “Ma’am,” Sallie’s father said. “You have saved our lives.” He paused. “More than our lives. You have given us our freedom.”
    The dragon impatiently shook its head. “You have
taken back
your freedom,” it said. “It was yours all along.”
    It