she

with work and song the time divides,
And through, the loom the golden shuttle guides.

For the Immortals are hiding somewhere still in the woods; even now I do
not weary searching for them.

But as we rested a shadow fell from a cloud that covered the sun, and
immediately a faint sigh arose from among the sedges and the reeds, and
two pale yellow leaves fell from the willows on the water. A gentle
breeze followed the cloud, chasing its shadow. Orion touched his rod
meaningly. So I stepped ashore with the gun to see if a channel could be
found into the open water, and pushed through the bush. Briar and
bramble choked the path, and hollow willow stoles; but, holding the gun
upright, it was possible to force through, till, pushing between a belt
of reeds and round an elder thicket, I came suddenly on a deep, clear
pool--all but walking into it. Up rose a large bird out of the water
with a bustling of wings and splashing, compelled to 'rocket' by the
thick bushes and willow poles. There was no time to aim; but the old gun
touched the shoulder and went off without conscious volition on my part.

The bird flew over the willows, but the next moment there was a heavy
splash somewhere beyond out of sight. Then came an echo of the report
sent back from the woods adjoining, and another, and a third and fourth,
as the sound rolled along the side of the hill, caught in the coombes
and thrown to and fro like a ball in a tennis-court. Wild with anxiety,
we forced the punt at the bulrushes, in the corner where it looked most
open, and with all our might heaved it over the weeds and the mud, and
so round the islet into the next pool, and thence into the open water.