The next morning, Oliver was woken by a scorched smell. Dad’s burned the porridge again, he thought sleepily, turning over in his spiderweb hammock. But then his feet felt hot. Ouch! Really, really hot!
Oliver sat up and gulped in alarm. His hammock was on fire! “Help!” he yelped, leaping out of it, as the flames licked towards his toes. “FIRE!”
“Dragon,” the Witch Baby said happily, pointing a podgy finger at a small green dragon with black smoke coming out of its nostrils…