She did not glance behind her. But as soon as the least turning of
the path had concealed her from the woodman's eyes, she slipped
among the trees and ran till she deemed herself in safety.
By this time the strong sunshine pierced in a thousand places the
pine-thatch of the forest, fired the red boles, irradiated the cool
aisles of shadow, and burned in jewels on the grass. The gum of
these trees was dearer to the senses than the gums of Araby; each
pine, in the lusty morning sunlight, burned its own wood-incense;
and now and then a breeze would rise and toss these rooted censers,
and send shade and sun-gem flitting, swift as swallows, thick as
bees; and wake a brushing bustle of sounds that murmured and went
by.
On she passed, and up and down, in sun and shadow; now aloft on the
bare ridge among the rocks and birches, with the lizards and the
snakes; and anon in the deep grove among sunless pillars. Now she
followed wandering wood-paths, in the maze of valleys; and again,
from a hill-top, beheld the distant mountains and the great birds
circling under the sky. She would see afar off a nestling hamlet,
and go round to avoid it. Below, she traced the course of the foam
of mountain torrents. Nearer hand, she saw where the tender springs
welled up in silence, or oozed in green moss; or in the more
favoured hollows a whole family of infant rivers would combine, and
tinkle in the stones, and lie in pools to be a bathing-place for
sparrows, or fall from the sheer rock in rods of crystal.
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