Off into the forest I went, feeling a boyish elation to be so free nor taking heed or count of the reckless adventure before me.

The Martian weather for the moment was lovely and the many-coloured grass lush and soft under foot.

Mile after mile I went, heeding the distance lightly, the air was so elastic.

Now pressing forward as the main interest of my errand took the upper hand, and remembrance of poor Heru like a crushed white flower in the red grip of those cruel ravishers came upon me, and then pausing to sigh with pleasure or stand agape--forgetful even of her--in wonder of the unknown loveliness about me.
And well might I stare! Everything in that forest was wonderful! There were plants which turned from colour to colour with the varying hours of the day.

While others had a growth so swift it was dangerous to sit in their neighbourhood since the long, succulent tendrils clambering from the parent stem would weave you into a helpless tangle while you gazed, fascinated, upon them.