which she put to bake upon the hearth. But, being at work upon his
bow and arrows, with which he hoped to punish the false Danes when
a brighter time should come, and thinking deeply of his poor
unhappy subjects whom the Danes chased through the land, his noble
mind forgot the cakes, and they were burnt. 'What!' said the
cowherd's wife, who scolded him well when she came back, and little
thought she was scolding the King, 'you will be ready enough to eat
them by-and-by, and yet you cannot watch them, idle dog?'

At length, the Devonshire men made head against a new host of Danes
who landed on their coast; killed their chief, and captured their
flag; on which was represented the likeness of a Raven - a very fit
bird for a thievish army like that, I think. The loss of their
standard troubled the Danes greatly, for they believed it to be
enchanted - woven by the three daughters of one father in a single
afternoon - and they had a story among themselves that when they
were victorious in battle, the Raven stretched his wings and seemed
to fly; and that when they were defeated, he would droop. He had
good reason to droop, now, if he could have done anything half so
sensible; for, KING ALFRED joined the Devonshire men; made a camp
with them on a piece of firm ground in the midst of a bog in
Somersetshire; and prepared for a great attempt for vengeance on
the Danes, and the deliverance of his oppressed people.

But, first, as it was important to know how numerous those
pestilent Danes were, and how they were fortified, KING ALFRED,
being a good musician, disguised himself as a glee-man or minstrel,
and went, with his harp, to the Danish camp. He played and sang in
the very tent of GUTHRUM the Danish leader, and entertained the
Danes as they caroused. While he seemed to think of nothing but