Suddenly the hind stopped. She slid her long head between two young trees, where at the same time the horns of a stag appeared, and just as if she had reached the end of her journey the hind lay down with her hoofs beneath her and her head upon the ground.
“Caunos!” Byblis called aloud, “Caunos, where are you?”
Her only answer was from the stag, as he took a few steps towards her and threatened her with his terrible horns, which were interwoven like ten brown serpents.
Then Byblis understood that the hind, like her, had come to meet her lover, and that it was perhaps useless to reckon upon the help of these entirely absorbed by an inward passion.
She turned back, but she was lost. She took another track, which rapidly descended to an invisible path. Her poor little weary feet stumbled over the stones, caught in the roots, and slipped upon the brown carpet of pine-needles. At a turn in this uneven path, which followed the course of a stream, she stopped before a divine couple.
They were two nymphs of different orders, one of them having authority over the forests and the other the spring waters. The oread had brought to the naiad the fresh offerings received from men, and both of them were bathing in the stream, sporting and embracing as they did so.
“Naiad,” Byblis said, “have you seen the son of Cyanée?”
“Yes. His shadow has passed over me. It was yesterday at sunset.”
“From what direction did he come?”