He assisted her to dismount, and, leaving the horses to their fate, they together hunted for some opening in the dense thicket.  After much search, Anthrops succeeded in discovering a small gap in the brambles, through which he and Haguna crept, but only into fresh perplexity.  They gained a path, but with it no prospect of rejoining their companions; for it wound an intricate course between ramparts of vine-covered shrubbery, that shut it in on either side and intercepted all extended view.  The way was too narrow to admit of more than one person passing at a time; and as Haguna happened to have emerged first from the thicket, she boldly took the lead, following the path until they emerged into a more open part of the forest, where the undulating ground was entirely free from underbrush, and the eye roamed at pleasure through the wide glades.  Haguna followed some unseen waymarks with sure step, still tacitly compelling Anthrops to follow her without inquiry.  As she sped lightly over the turf, she began to hum a little song:—­

  “Nodding flowers, and tender grass,
  Bend and let the lady pass! 
  Lighter than the south-wind straying,
  In the spring, o’er leaves decaying,
  Seeking for his ardent kisses
  One small flower that he misses,
  Will I press your snowy bosoms,
  Dainty, darling little blossoms!”

Singing thus, she descended a little hill, and, gliding round its base, disappeared under a thick grape-vine that swung across it from two lofty elms on either side.  A spider in conscious security had woven his web across the archway formed by the drooping festoons of the vine; the untrodden path was overgrown with moss.  Haguna lifted up the vine and passed under, beckoning Anthrops to follow.  He heard her still singing,—­

  “Quick unclasp your tendrils clinging,
  Stealthily the trees enringing! 
  I have learnt your wily secret: 
  I will use it, I shall keep it! 
  Cunning spider, cease your spinning! 
  My web boasts the best beginning. 
  Yours is wan and pale and ashen: 
  After no such lifeless fashion
  Mine is woven.  Golden sunbeams
  Prisoned in its meshes, light gleams
  From its shadowest recesses. 
  Tell me, spider, made you ever
  Web so strong no knife could sever
  Woven of a maiden’s tresses?”

On the other side of the viny curtain, Anthrops discovered the entrance to a large cavern hollowed out in a rock.  The cavern was carpeted with the softest moss of the most variegated shades, ranging from faintest green to a rich golden brown.  The rocky walls were of considerable height, and curved gracefully around the ample space,—­a woodland apartment.  But the most remarkable feature in the grotto was a rose-colored cloud, that seemed to have been imprisoned in the farther end, and, in its futile efforts to escape, shifted perpetually into strange, fantastic figures.  Now, the massive form of the Israelitish