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There was a fine valley, a flat country, plains, isolated long-stretched hills, and distant ranges; the highest points of the latter bearing 77 degrees E. and 76 degrees W.; and, as I hoped to reach them by Christmas time, I called them "Christmas Ranges."
After a fall of tears, upon looking at the scraps, she dressed herself, and sat by the window and watched the blackbird on the lawn as he hopped from shafts of dewy sunlight to the long-stretched dewy tree-shadows, considering in her mind that dark dews are more meaningful than bright, the beauty of the dews of woods more sweet than meadow-dews. It signified only that she was quieter.
The country farther on, was well grassed and lightly timbered. Winding round isolated ranges on a N.N.W. course, we came again on the Pandanus creek, which we followed. Some long-stretched detached hills were seen to the northward, and a long range to the eastward, trending from south to north. The flat valley between them was scattered over with groves of Pandanus.
To begin with, the largest part of the sea which now lay blue and sunlit, and rolled forward in glittering swells was visible. Only upon one and another point, did the foam spray up. To the east lay Gottland, with even and long-stretched coast; and to the southwest lay Great Karl's Island, which was built on the same plan as the little island.
Towards the north-east, the country appeared to be very level, with only one low ridge, apparently at a great distance. To the south, and also to the west, some long-stretched flat-topped hills were visible, several extending as far as the eye could reach.
But Bran and Sceo'lan did not stop; they added another inch to their long-stretched easy bodies, and came up on the fawn. "It is an easy kill," said Fionn regretfully. "They have her," he cried. But he was again astonished, for the dogs did not kill. They leaped and played about the fawn, licking its face, and rubbing delighted noses against its neck. Fionn came up then.
From the eastern one, I enjoyed a fine view, and distinguished distant ranges broken by a gap to the southward, and detached long-stretched ridges to the westward.
Still He is not angry, but sends His messengers, and we stone them. Still He waits: we go on heaping year upon year of rebellious forgetfulness, and no lightning flashes from His eye, no exclamation of wearied-out patience, comes from His lips, no rush of the sudden arrow from His long-stretched bow.
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