And Tharagavverug, it being the hour when he took the first meal of
the day, was moving towards a village with his heart tolling. And
all the people of the village were come out to meet him, as it was
their wont to do; for they abode not the suspense of awaiting
Tharagavverug and of hearing him sniffing brazenly as he went from
door to door, pondering slowly in his metal mind what habitant he
should choose. And none dared to flee, for in the days when the
villagers fled from Tharagavverug, he, having chosen his victim,
would track him tirelessly, like a doom. Nothing availed them
against Tharagavverug. Once they climbed the trees when he came, but
Tharagavverug went up to one, arching his back and leaning over
slightly, and rasped against the trunk until it fell. And when
Leothric came near, Tharagavverug saw him out of one of his small
steel eyes and came towards him leisurely, and the echoes of his
heart swirled up through his open mouth. And Leothric stepped
sideways from his onset, and came between him and the village and
smote him on the nose, and the blow of the stick made a dint in the
soft lead. And Tharagavverug swung clumsily away, uttering one
fearful cry like the sound of a great church bell that had become
possessed of a soul that fluttered upward from the tombs at night--an
evil soul, giving the bell a voice. Then he attacked Leothric,
snarling, and again Leothric leapt aside, and smote him on the nose
with his stick. Tharagavverug uttered like a bell howling. And
whenever the dragon-crocodile attacked him, or turned towards the
village, Leothric smote him again.

So all day long Leothric drove the monster with a stick, and he drove
him farther and farther from his prey, with his heart tolling
angrily and his voice crying out for pain.