But I only saw it once again, and then it seemed to be listening at longer spaces.

Yet it took me a long way before it suddenly fled altogether, as its footmarks told me.

A forest-bred lad learns those signs soon enough, if he is about with the woodmen in snow time.
Then I turned to make my way home, following my own track for a little way.

That was crooked, and I went to take a straighter path, and after that I was fairly lost.
Yet I held on, hoping every minute to come into some known glade or sight, some familiar landmark, before the sun set.

But I found nought but new trees, and new views over unknown white country all round me as I turned my steps hither and thither as one mark after another drew me.