, half-hidden beneath a wild
tangle of vine and clusters of purple grapes. Beyond was the forest,
dark and cool and silent, with shafts of sunlight in it like golden
spears pinning the forest floor to earth. There was no breeze. And as
David stood there, scarcely daring to breathe, they heard the sound of
shepherd pipes coming from the edge of the wood. It was a minor tune,
but somehow lilting too, with the rippling of water in it, and the
laughter of birds flying high, and the whisper of reeds as they bend
together by the edge of streams, and the gaiety of crickets by night,
and the pouring of summer rain.

The piping died away, and the Phoenix beckoned to the spellbound
David. Together they walked across the glade, leaving behind them a
wake of swirling butterflies. An immense oak stood at the edge of the
forest. At its foot, on a bed of moss, sat the Faun.

He was the same size as David. From the waist down he was covered with
shaggy hair like a goat's, and instead of feet he had cloven hooves.
The hair on his head was black and curly, and tumbled around small
pointed ears and a pair of short horns. His eyes were slanted slightly
upward, and he had a pointed chin and a snub nose.

The Faun waved his pipes saucily at the Phoenix and gave a wry smile.
"Hullo, Phoenix! Back again to honor us with your wit and wisdom? What
gems of advice have you got for us now?"

"My dear Faun," said the Phoenix stiffly, "I have brought my friend
David, who is acquiring an education. We--"

The Faun smiled at David. "Want to race?" he said.

"Sure," said David. "Where to?"

"One moment," harrumphed the Phoenix. "What we--"

"Down to that pedestal and back," said the Faun.

"All right. Wait till I tie my shoe."

The Phoenix harrumphed again. "This is all very well in its place, but
we _should_--"

"Ready?" said the Faun. "One, two, three, _go_!"

[Illustration]

They dashed for the stone marker. It was an even race until they
reached the pedestal, but there David tried to turn without slowing
down, slipped on the grass, and went sprawling on his hands and knees.
The Faun knew better. He sprang at the pedestal with both hooves,
bounced from it like a spring, and began to race back to the oak. But
then he too fell, tripping over a vine, and David shot past him and
touched the oak one jump ahead of him, shouting "First!"

They sat down on the moss, panting. The Faun said, "You can really
run! I'm sorry you fell."

"Well,