There being no way to cross the fords of the Isen, because of the invasion of Men, it was determined by Lord Veryacano that we would make our own crossing, and he bravely waded into its icy waters to secure a rope bridge. The River Isen is large and swift-flowing; and it was with great difficulty Lord Veryacano got through it: sometimes he would be in the waters up to his neck, but by good fortune, and his mighty strength, he was able to cross over. His face was blue with cold when he pulled himself up on the far bank, and it began to rain very hard. Without resting, Lord Veryacano secured a second rope that was tied about his waist, and using both ropes to support us, the rest of us were able to cross safely over the raging water, in about an hour’s time. Afterwards, we found shelter from the cold rain under a leaning rock, and rested and ate some provisions, given to us by the Horse-Men, that were almost as bad as the horse crackers Telpenaro fed me, in his perverse amusement. Then, descending eastward into some lower country, we found a great body of very good land, being most of it covered with trees of oak, and walnut, and a large number of fair beeches. I never in my life saw such an old wood as this, and we met with nothing during the night, no wild beasts, or Men, or anything else, which I wondered at, but I did not wonder for long.
We took a particular view of the woods, and I think it is the pleasantest place that I ever saw. Because this forest is very old and ancient, it is full of many high trees with bark quite different, and with the lichen hanging thick from their boughs; and the trunks of the trees growing so close together, their branches interlacing, the sunbeams fall thin and faint upon the carpet of leaves at our feet. It is likely that Men find this place haunted, for the vulgar among them oft have a notion that dark woods are haunted with evil spirits, which they live in daily fear of; though, for my part, I think, with good reason. When forests grow so old, they become full of rot, and this one was no exception. Deep within this forest, there grows a black sort of tree that is different, and these seem to love the low moist land around a pool, where ferns and pale mushrooms grow. Some are ten and twelve ells high, and their smallest branches as thick around as my arm, and very prickly trees I found them. Haw-thorns I believe they are called, though there are none growing in the Greenwood, none that I ever saw. Desiring to speak with one of the curious Haw-thorns, I wandered closer, and bowing low before it, complimented its shapely branches, but it could not hear me, or perhaps it did not understand my speech, because it shuddered all over in a fury, and quite suddenly lunged at me.
Later, after we were all discovered again, and finding all the company unharmed, if a bit short-tempered, the Lord Veryacano seemed to look on me as amazed, and enquired what might be my reason for wanting to speak to the Black Haw-thorn. He asked if I were mad. Not knowing how to answer, and concluding that it would be wisest to say as little as possible, especially as Nirhen was rolling her eyes and glaring at me with contempt, I said that I was seeking news, for I could feel some anger in the heart of the Tauremorna, and thought the trees might know something of our missing Lord Anglachelm, because they have been ceaselessly murmuring, ever since we arrived under its eaves. But its trees have gone wild and strange, and would not speak with me, and I question much whether they have ever seen an Elf in their lives before.
But now comes the worst misfortune of the day; for after we came to a clear little stream, and refreshed ourselves in its cool waters, Laurelindo was discovered to have straggled off in the woods at some time earlier, likely during one of his herb-gathering forays, and wicked Nirhen, choosing in her insolence not to mention this to Lord Veryacano until much later (as she considers it a waste of time to safeguard folk she considers unimportant), greatly dismayed our Lord Veryacano with the telling of this news, and I could not tell which she relished more, our lordship’s dismay or the thought that Laurelindo may be forever lost. I imagined that he mistook the path, and might have treaded upon the stump of one of those wild Haw-thorns, or he might have tumbled off some precipice, and ‘twas with great difficulty rising to his feet, with the blood streaming out from his broken head, calling desperately for his companions for help! Unwilling to dwell on these worrisome thoughts, I told Lord Veryacano that we must go out at once searching for Laurelindo; and I said I would gather deadwood, from which I built a blazing fire, which would mark our camp, and I hoped that Laurelindo might see its light. Then I dressed some salt-beef for our suppers, mixing it with some fresh greens and mushrooms for the others to eat when they return, and listening to the low thundering sounds of the unquiet forest, made shift as well as I could, assured that no Men in the world would ever come to such a place, and so I thought I was not in any danger.
