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He stopped a moment, musing; then in softer tones went on: "The days are all still there. The creature-multitude sleeps in hidden lairs black and gold and brown and grey all veiled in golden gloom. The little men-things go their ways, on their own man-paths, which they only know; remember this they only know.
"Do you suppose they're doing any harm to her, in there?" Cadman asked. "No," Skag answered, but his face was grim as he spoke. When they came into it, they found not grass but bamboo, twelve to sixteen feet high, standing root to root. They camped at a village in its edge; and before they slept, twenty lads were ready to lead them in the man-paths, next morning.
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