Fox and badger and wildcat had their hiding places here,
for I could trace them on all sides, and then I saw the track of a
wolf, and that minded me, as that track in snow ever must, of Owen
and the day when he came to my help at Eastdean. That is the
clearest memory I have of my childhood.
Then I thought that I heard the horn, and stopped to listen, nor
was it long before what I had heard came to my ears again. It was
not the sound of the horn, however, but somewhat strange to me, and
for a while I wondered what forest bird or beast had a note like
that.
For the third time I heard it, and now it was plainly like the
half-stifled cry of some one in pain among the trees to the right
of me, and not far distant either. So I rode toward the place
whence the cry seemed to come, and as I went I called. At that the
voice rose more often, with some sound of entreaty in its tone, and
it seemed to be trying to form words. I hastened then, crossing
more wolf tracks on the way, and then I struck the trail of many
men and a few horses; but these were not Eric's, for the hoof marks
were rather those of ponies than of his tall steeds. I followed
that track, for it seemed to lead toward the weary voice that I
heard, and so I came to a circle of great oaks with a clear space
of many paces wide between them, and there I found what I was
seeking.
Pages:
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199