And so I gazed where the Singing Mouse pointed, quite beyond the dusty walls, and there I saw as it had said. I heard not the thunder of the hoofs of buffalo, nor the faint crack of the twig beneath the panther's foot. I saw not the lurching gallop of the long-jawed wolf, nor the high, elastic bounding of the deer. The level swinging speed of the antelope, the slinking of the lynx, the crashing flight of the wapiti--no, it was none of these that came to mind; nor did the mountains nor the plains, nor the wilderness of the pines. But when the Singing Mouse whispered, "Do you see?" I murmured in reply, "I see it all again!" I saw the small, low hills, well covered with short oaks and hazel bushes, which rolled on away from the village, far out, almost to the Delectable Mountains, which are well known to be upon the edge of the world. Through these low hills a winding road led on, a road whose end no man had ever reached, but which went to places where, no doubt, many wonders were--perhaps even to the Delectable Mountains; for so a wise man once had said, his words harkened to with awe. This was a pleasant road, lined with brave sumacs, with bushes of the wild blackberry, and with small hazel trees which soon would offer fruit for the regular harvest of the fall, this same to be spread for drying on the woodshed roof. It was perhaps wise curiosity as to the crop of nuts which had brought thus far from home these two figures--an enormous distance, perhaps at least a mile beyond what heretofore had been the utmost limit of their wanderings. It was not, perhaps, safe to venture so far. There were known to be strange creatures in these woods, one knew not what. It was therefore well that the younger boy should clasp tightly the hand of the older, him who bore with such confidence the bow and arrows, potent weapons of those days gone by! [Illustration]