It had no fence to hold it together, it
was not dressed up by human beings, it just grew naturally. To this
very openness and want of concealment it owed its deep security, its
safety was due entirely to the air of innocence it wore. But in
reality it was disguised. It was a forest--without a middle, without a
heart.
"This is our wood," announced Tim in a low voice, as they stood and
mopped their faces. His tone suggested that they would enter at their
peril.
"And is it a big wood?" the other asked with caution, as though he had
not noticed it before.
"Much bigger than it looks," the boy replied. "You can easily get
lost." Then added, with the first touch of awe about him, "It has no
centre."
"That's the worst kind," said his companion shivering slightly. "Like
a pond that has no bottom."
Tim nodded. His face had grown a trifle paler. He showed no immediate
anxiety to make the first advance, reserving that privilege for his
comrade. A breath of wind stole out and set the dry leaves rustling.
"We must look out," he said at length. "There'll be a sign."
Uncle Felix listened attentively to every word.
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