The children sang songs as they paraded over the dry fields until they came to the thick marshland of tall orange rushes. They carefully pushed their way through in a single file, to flatten a narrow discrete path through the plants. They sang, “Merlin is the name of the land. He became an owl to sit on the tree. The men hunted him so he flew to the moon. He became man in the lusty month of June. Merlin is the name of the land.”
As they reached the water’s edge, they saw the shore alive with frogs, anew. Rafe proclaimed, “Enough to eat for a week!”
As the children splashed forward, the frogs did likewise and not many were caught. As the children rested a moment before resuming their hunt, the water began to bubble and then hundreds of frogs shot out of the water as if from sling-shots. They struck the trees so hard the little creatures were dazed or killed outright.
“Frogs! A miracle of frogs!” After they had stuffed their pockets and bags and were ready to leave for the village, Rafe noticed the rushes parting on the far side of the water. “A beast! From the drowning pool!”
A giant dead black dragon was pulled forward from the muddy depths by dozens of white swans. The children watched in shocked amazement as the dragon finally burst forth into flames from the light of the sun.