going headlong into the
salt furrow his chest was turning up. Happily I kept hold of the web,
for the great elk then turned back, passing between me and the ruck of
stuff and getting thereby the silk under his chin, and as I came
gasping to the top once more round came that dainty wreckage over his
back, and I clutched it, and sooner than it takes to tell I was towing
to the shore as perhaps no one was ever towed before.

The big beast dragged the ruck like withered weed behind him, bellowing
all the time with a voice which made the hills echo all round; and
then, when he got his feet upon the shallows, rose dripping and
mountainous, a very cliff of black hide and limb against the night
shine, and with a single sweep of his antlers tore the webbing from me,
who lay prone and breathless in the mud, and, thinking it was his
enemy, hurled the limp bundle on the beach, and then, having pounded it
with his cloven feet into formless shreds, bellowed again victoriously
and went off into the darkness of the forests.

CHAPTER IX

I landed, stiff enough as you will guess, but pleased to be on shore
again. It was a melancholy neighbourhood of low islands, overgrown
with rank grass and bushes, salt water encircling them, and inside
sandy dunes and hummocks with shallow pools, gleaming ghostly in the
retreating daylight, while beyond these rose the black bosses of what
looked like a forest. Thither I made my way, plunging uncomfortably
through shallows, and tripping over blackened branches which, lying
just below the surface, quivered like snakes as the evening breeze
ruffled each surface, until the ground hardened under foot, and
presently I was standing, hungry and faint but safe, on dry land again.

The forest was so close to the sea, one could not advance without
entering it, and once within its dark arcades every way looked equally
gloomy and hopeless. I struggled through tangles night made more and
more impenetrable each minute, until presently I could go no further,
and where a dense canopy of trees overhead gave out for a minute on the
edge of a swampy hollow, I determined to wait for daylight.

Never was there a more wet or weary traveller, or one more desperately
lonely than he who wrapped himself up in the miserable insufficiency of
his wet rags, and without fire or supper crept amongst the exposed
roots of a tree growing out of a bank, and prepared to hope grimly for
morning.

Round and round meanwhile wa