Bamboo heard a great noise like the whirr of enormous wings, and then, looking up, saw a huge dragon just in front of him. He knew it was a dragon from the pictures he had seen and the carvings in the temples.

The dragon and the turtle had no sooner greeted each other, both very happy at the meeting, than they were joined by a queer-looking bird, unlike any that Bamboo had ever seen, but which he knew was the phœnix. This phœnix looked somewhat like a wild swan, but it had the bill of a cock, the neck of a snake, the tail of a fish and the stripes of a dragon. Its feathers were of five colours.

When the three friends had chatted merrily for a few minutes, the turtle told them how Bamboo had helped him to escape from the temple.

“A clever boy,” said the dragon, patting Bamboo gently on the back.
“Yes, yes, a clever boy indeed,” echoed the phœnix.

“Ah,” sighed the turtle, “if only the good god, P’anku, were here, shouldn’t we be happy! But, I fear he will never come to this meeting-place. No doubt he is off in some distant spot, cutting out another world. If I could only see him once more, I feel that I should die in peace.”

“Just listen!” laughed the dragon. “As if one of us could die! Why, you talk like a mere mortal.”

All day long the three friends chatted, feasted, and had a good time looking round at the places where they had lived so happily when P’anku had been cutting out the world. They were good to Bamboo also and showed him many wonderful things of which he had never dreamed.

“You are not half so mean-looking and so fierce as they paint you on the flags,” said Bamboo in a friendly voice to the dragon just as they were about to separate.

The three friends laughed heartily.

“Oh, no, he’s a very decent sort of fellow, even if he is covered with fish-scales,” joked the phœnix.

Just before they bade each other good-bye, the phœnix gave Bamboo a long scarlet tail-feather for a keepsake, and the dragon gave him a large scale which turned to gold as soon as the boy took it into his hand.

“Come, come, we must hurry,” said the turtle. “I am afraid your father will think you are lost.” So Bamboo, after having spent the happiest day of his life, mounted the turtle’s back, and they rose once more above the clouds. Back they flew even faster than they had come. Bamboo had so many things to talk about that he did not once think of going to sleep, for he had really seen the dragon and the phœnix, and if he never were to see anything else in his life, he would always be happy.

Suddenly the turtle stopped short in his swift flight, and Bamboo felt himself slipping. Too late he screamed for help, too late he tried to save himself. Down, down from that dizzy height he tumbled, turning, twisting, thinking of the awful death that was surely coming. Swish! he shot through the tree tops trying vainly to clutch the friendly branches. Then with a loud scream he struck the ground, and his long journey was ended.

“Come out from under that turtle, boy! What are you doing inside the temple in the dirt? Don’t you know this is not the proper place for you?”
Bamboo rubbed his eyes. Though only half awake, he knew it was his father’s voice.

“But didn’t it kill me?” he said as his father pulled him out by the heel from under the great stone turtle.
“What killed you, foolish boy? What can you be talking about? But I’ll half-kill you if you don’t hurry out of this and come to your supper. Really I believe you are getting too lazy to eat. The idea of sleeping the whole afternoon under that turtle’s belly!”

Bamboo, not yet fully awake, stumbled out of the tablet room, and his father locked the iron doors.