listening for the cries that should tell that I was found. If they
spoke at all, they said that I should not be seen again, for the
cold had driven the wolves close to the villages.

But I was by this time far beyond the reach of friendly voices, on
the edge of the great hill that falls sheer down through many a
score feet of hanging woods and thicket to the Lavington valley far
below, and there at last I knew for certain that I was lost
utterly, for this place or its like I had never seen before. Then I
stayed my feet, bewildered, for the sun was gone, and I had nothing
to tell me in which direction I was heading, for at that time the
stars told me nought, though there were enough out now to direct
any man who was used to the night. When I stood still I found that
I was growing deadly cold, and the weariness that I had so far
staved off began to creep over me, so that I longed to sleep.

And I suppose that I should have done so, and thereby met my death
shortly, but for a thing that roused me in an instant, and set the
warm blood coursing through me again.

There came a rustling in the undergrowth of the hillside below me,
and that was the most homely sound that I had heard since the wild
geese flew over me seaward with swish and whistle of broad wings
and call that I knew well. The silence of the great brown owls that
circled swiftly over me now and then was uncanny.

The rustling drew nearer, and then out into the open place under
the tall bare tree trunks where I stood trotted a grey beast that
was surely a shepherd's dog, for he stayed and looked back and
whined a little as if his master must be waited for. I thought that