was two hours after noon.







II

The large square fresh-water fishing-net had sunk under the surface,
the canes which framed it were out of sight; only the great central
pole, which sustained the whole, and was planted in the ground of the
river-bank, remained visible as it bent and swayed but did not yield
or break. Such nets as this had been washed by the clear green waters
of the pools and torrents of the Edera ever since the days of
Etruscan gods and Latin augurs; religions had changed, but the river,
and the ways of the men of the river, had not altered.

Adone did not touch it, for it was well where it was; he seated
himself on the bank ready to seize and hold it if its pole showed any
sign of yielding and giving way and heeling over into the stream. He
sat thus amongst the bulrushes for many an hour, on many a spring day
and summer night. Although fish were not numerous he never tired of
his vigil, lulled by the sound of the current as it splashed among
the stones and rippled through the rushes; a deeper music coming from
its higher reaches, where it fell over a ledge of rock and leapt like
a live thing into the air. And, indeed, what thing could be more
living than this fresh, pure, untroubled water, glad as a child,
swift as a swallow, singing for sport, as a happy boy sings, as it