Beric had fallen back upon the customs of his people as thoroughly
as if he had never dwelt in the stately Roman town. He was as ready
as before to undertake the longest hunting expeditions, to sleep
in the forest, to go from sunrise to sunset without breaking his
fast. When not engaged in hunting he practised incessantly hurling
the javelin and other warlike exercises, while of an evening he
frequently related stories of Roman history to any chiefs or other
guests of his mother, on which occasions the humbler followers
would gather thickly in the background, evincing an interest even
greater than that which they felt in the songs and legends of the
bards.

Beric generally chose stories relating to periods when Rome was
hardly pressed by her foes, showing how the intense feeling of
patriotism, and the obstinate determination to resist, in spite of
all dangers, upon the part of the population, and the discipline
and dogged valour of the soldiers, saved her from destruction. He
was cautious to draw no parallel openly to the case of Britain.
He knew that the Romans were made acquainted, by traitors in their
pay, with much that passed among the native tribes, and that at
first they were sure to interest themselves in his proceedings. At
present there could be no thought of a rising, and the slightest
sign of disaffection might bring disaster and ruin upon his tribe.
Only when some unexpected event, some invasion of the rights of
the Britons even more flagrant than those that had hitherto taken
place, should stir the smouldering fire of discontent, and fan it
into a fierce flame of revolt from end to end of Britain, could
success be hoped for.

No Roman could have found fault with Beric's relation of their