ought, "Now I'm having a dream, and so is the
Phoenix. We're all dreaming the same thing and living in the dream,
and I wish--oh, I wish none of us will ever wake up!"

But he had just opened his eyes again when the Faun leaped to his feet
and cried "Listen!" and flicked his pointed ears forward like a cat.

David stood up and said in a puzzled voice, "I don't hear anything."
He noticed that the Phoenix had also got up, and was listening
uncomfortably to whatever it was.

"Listen! Oh, listen!" cried the Faun. There was a joyous light in his
eyes as he leaned forward with his lips slightly parted, straining
toward the mysterious silence. Suddenly he shouted, "I'm coming, I'm
coming!" and dashed off into the wood.

"Good heavens," muttered the Phoenix. "I had forgotten about--this.
Let us go home, my boy."

A strange, uncontrollable trembling had seized David's legs. He still
could hear nothing, but some feeling, some hint of an unknown,
tremendous event hung quivering in the air about them and sent little
electric thrills racing up and down his whole body.

"Oh, Phoenix, what is it, what is it?" he whispered.

"I think we had best be going, my boy," said the Phoenix anxiously.
"Come along."

"Phoenix--" But he heard it now. It came whispering toward them, the
sound of pipes caroling--pipes such as the Faun had played, but
greater, as an organ is greater than a flute. The wild, sweet sound
rose and fell, swelled like a full choir, diminished into one soprano
voice that pierced David through and through, caressing and tugging,
calling, "Come ... come ... run ... run...."

"Phoenix!" David cried. "Oh, Phoenix, listen, listen!"

"Run ... run ..." the pipes whispered.

"Let us go home, my boy," said the Phoenix warningly.

"Come ... come ..." cried the pipes.

They could be resisted no longer. In a transport of joy, David shouted "I'm
coming!" and raced away toward the sound. There was nothing in his mind
now, nothing in the whole world, but a desire to be near those pipes. He
must run like the winds, leap and shout, roll in the grass, throw himself
down flowered slopes, follow that magic music wherever it should lead. He
fled blindly through the wood, heedless of the branches which whipped his
face and the thorns which tore at his legs. The pipes were calling more
loudly now: "Run ... run ... faster ... faster...." Then the Phoenix
plunged to earth in front of him, threw out both wings, and shouted "Stop!"