I did not know
when I had left the road from the village to the hilltop, or in
which direction it lay.
It was very silent in the aisles of the great beech trunks, for the
herds were in shelter. There was no sound of the swineherds' horn,
though the evening was coming on, and but for the frost it was time
for their charges to be taken homeward, and the woodmen's axes were
idle. Even the scream of some hawk high overhead had been welcome
to me, and the harsh cry of a jay that I scared was like the voice
of a friend.
It was the fault of none but myself that I was lost. I had planned
to go hunting alone in the woods while the old nurse, whose care I
was far beyond, slept after her midday meal before the fire. So,
over my warm woollen clothing I had donned the deerskin short cloak
that was made like my father's own hunting gear, and I had taken my
bow and arrows, and the little seax {i} that a thane's son may
always wear, and had crept away from the warm hall without a soul
seeing me. I had thought myself lucky in this, but by this time I
began to change my mind in all truth. Well it was for me that there
was no wind, so that I was spared the worst of the cold.
I went up the hill to the north of the village by the track which
the timber sleds make, climbing until I was on the crest, and there
I began to wander as the tracks of rabbit and squirrel led me on.
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