andered on through those wonderful woodlands, and in
fact loitered so much over their infinite marvels that when sundown
came all too soon there was still undulating forest everywhere, vistas
of fairy glades on every hand, peopled with incredible things and
echoing with sounds that excited the ears as much as other things
fascinated the eyes, but no sign of the sea or my fishing village
anywhere.

It did not matter; a little of the Martian leisureliness was getting
into my blood: "If not today, why then tomorrow," as An would have
said; and with this for comfort I selected a warm, sandy hollow under
the roots of a big tree, made my brief arrangements for the night, ate
some honey cakes, and was soon sleeping blissfully.

I woke early next morning, after many hours of interrupted dreams, and
having nothing to do till the white haze had lifted and made it
possible to start again, rested idly a time on my elbow and watched the
sunshine filter into the recesses.

Very pretty it was to see the thick canopy overhead, by star-light so
impenetrable, open its chinks and fissures as the searching sun came
upon it; to see the pin-hole gaps shine like spangles presently, the
spaces broaden into lesser suns, and even the thick leafage brighten
and shine down on me with a soft sea-green radiance. The sunward sides
of the tree-stems took a glow, and the dew that ran dripping down their
mossy sides trickled blood-red to earth. Elsewhere the shadows were
still black, and strange things began to move in them--things we in our
middle-aged world have never seen the likeness of: beasts half birds,
birds half creeping things, and creeping things which it seemed to me
passed through lesser creations down to the basest life that crawls
without interruption or division.

It was not for me, a sailor, to know much of such things, yet some I
could not fail to notice. On one grey branch overhead, jutting from a
tree-stem where a patch of velvet moss made in the morning glint a
fairy bed, a wonderful flower unfolded. It was a splendid bud, ivory
white, cushioned in leaves, and secured to its place by naked white
roots that clipped the branch like fingers of a lady's hand. Even as I
looked it opened, a pale white star, and hung pensive and inviting on
its mossy cushion. From it came such a ravishing odour that even I, at
the further end of the great scale of life, felt my pulses quicken and
my eyes brighten with cupidity. I was in the very