Pan

in the hills, though he had been out fishing for two days. No, I had shot no

es. For three days I had not seen a soul except the one fisherman I had met the day before. I thought to myself, "Perhaps I may meet someone this evening on the way home, at the edge of the wood, where I met the Doctor and E

h to branch and filling every innocent bloom; all the forest seemed filled with delight. A green worm thing, a caterpillar, dragged itself end by end along a branch, dragging along unceasingly, as if it could not rest. It saw hardly anything, fo

s before in their solitude; the leaves rustle underfoot as I walk. The monotonous breathing and the familiar trees and stones mean much to me; I am filled with a strange thankfulness; everything seems well disposed towards me, mingles with my being; I love it all. I pick up a little dry twig and hold it in m

f an hour ahead of my sun marks at the hut. I am quite aware of all this, but none the less there is an hour yet

and then. "I have stayed out too long," I say aloud. A pang goes through me; I turn at once and begin walking homewards, but all the time I know I have stayed out too long. I wal

wood there was no one there. No, a

id to myself. And yet it was

thoughts, passed by my hut, and went down to Sirilun

he greatest friendliness, an