hen go on at night,
rest the next day, and start again in the short twilight. The latter
part of our journey we would endeavour so to divide as to arrive at the
city with the first of the morning, and be already inside the gates when
discovered.

It seemed as if all the inhabitants of the forest would migrate with us.
A multitude of birds flew in front, imagining themselves, no doubt,
the leading division; great companies of butterflies and other insects
played about our heads; and a crowd of four-footed creatures followed
us. These last, when night came, left us almost all; but the birds and
the butterflies, the wasps and the dragon-flies, went with us to the
very gates of the city.

We halted and slept soundly through the afternoon: it was our first real
march, but none were tired. In the night we went faster, because it was
cold. Many fell asleep on the backs of their beasts, and woke in the
morning quite fresh. None tumbled off. Some rode shaggy, shambling
bears, which yet made speed enough, going as fast as the elephants.
Others were mounted on different kinds of deer, and would have been
racing all the way had I not prevented it. Those atop of the hay on the
elephants, unable to see the animals below them, would keep talking to
them as long as they were awake. Once, when we had halted to feed, I
heard a little fellow, as he drew out the hay to give him, commune thus
with his "darling beast":

"Nosy dear, I am digging you out of the mountain, and shall soon get
down to you: be patient; I'm a coming! Very soon now you'll send up your
nose to look for me, and then we'll kiss like good elephants, we will!"

The same night there burst out such a tumult of elephant-trumpeting,
horse-neighing, and child-imitation, ringing far over the silent levels,
that, uncertain how near the city might not be, I quickly stilled the
uproar lest it should give warning of our approach.

Suddenly, one morning, the sun and the city rose, as it seemed,
together. To the children the walls appeared only a great mass of
rock, but when I told them the inside was full of nests of stone, I saw
apprehension and dislike at once invade their hearts: for the first time
in their lives, I believe--many of them long little lives--they knew
fear. The place looked to them bad: how were they to find mothers in
such a place? But they went on bravely, for they had confidence in
Lona--and in me too, little as I deserved it.

We rode through the soundin