For two hours more they strode along. Boduoc's eyes had been
trained by many a long night spent among the woods, and dark as it
was beneath the overarching trees, he was able to discern objects
around him, and kept along in his regular stride as surely and
almost as noiselessly as a wild beast; but the four years spent in
the Roman town had impaired Beric's nocturnal vision; and though
he had done much hunting since his return home, he was far from
being able to use his eyes as his companion did, and he more than
once stumbled over the roots that crossed the path.

"You will be on your head presently," Boduoc growled.

"It is all very well for you, Boduoc, who have the eyes of a cat;
but you must remember we are travelling in the dark, and although
I can make out the trunks on either hand the ground is all black
to me, and I am walking quite at hazard."

"It is not what I should call a light night," Boduoc admitted.

"Well, no, considering that there is no moon, and that the clouds
that were rising when the sun went down have overspread all the
sky. I don't see that it could well be darker."

"Well we will stop at that hut in the little clearing, somewhere
about half a mile on, and get a couple of torches. If you were to
fall and twist your foot you would not be able to hunt tomorrow."

"What is that?" Beric exclaimed as a distant cry came to their
ears.