CHAPTER X.THE BAD BURROW.
As the air grew black and the winter closed swiftly around me, the fluttering fire blazed out more luminous, and arresting its flight, hovered waiting.

So soon as I came under its radiance, it flew slowly on, lingering now and then above spots where the ground was rocky.

Every time I looked up, it seemed to have grown larger, and at length gave me an attendant shadow.

Plainly a bird-butterfly, it flew with a certain swallowy double.

Its wings were very large, nearly square, and flashed all the colours of the rainbow.