The nest of gold goes in the back corner almost every time, with the empty armor standing guard behind it. The surprise is who sleeps on it: in most of them a gray-haired witch with a book, while the baby dragon curls up somewhere near the fire. Then come the visitors, small knights with cookies or an armful of books, and the cave turns into a living room with a sofa, a hearth and a table set for tea.
Nobody in these caves came for the gold. They came for the cookies, and stayed.