But it did not in the least frighten the little innocent Primrose, who had never yet been shouted at in grief or anger.
Primrose heard something making such a noise that the very Mountain shook, and so he went up to see what great thing it might be. When he got there, lo! it was a bird no bigger than a hen!
The bird dipped its beak in a pool, then threw up its head and puffed out its throat like a pair of bellows, and boomed—heavens, it boomed so that Primrose’s sleeves fluttered on him! This new wonder took Primrose’s fancy so much that he sat down so as to see from near by how Belleroo boomed.
Primrose sat down just below the holy furrow beside Belleroo, and peered under his throat—because by now it was dark—the better to see how Belleroo puffed out his throat.
Had Primrose been wiser he would not have lingered there on the Mountain just below the furrow, where every evil Thing could hurt him, but he would have taken that one step across the furrow so as to be safe where the evil Things could not come.
But Primrose was just a little simpleton, and might easily have come to grief just there, within sight of safety.
Primrose was much amused by Belleroo.
He was amused; he was beguiled.
And while he was amusing himself in this fashion, the Fairy went and roused the Fiery Dragon where he slept in a deep gully.
She roused him and led him up the Mountain. On came the fearsome Fiery Dragon, spouting flame out of both nostrils and crushing firs and pine-trees as he went. There wasn’t room enough for him, you see, in the forest and the Mountain.