Again the path rose steeply in front, and they seemed to be mounting a considerable acclivity. Climbing higher and higher, Ceolwulf left the beaten track, and turned aside through the low growth of oak and ash that seemed unable to attain to any size, and were gnarled and twisted into all sorts of fantastic shapes.
Scrambling over some moss-covered boulders, Ceolwulf stopped, and said:
"Here, men, we will make our camp; there is a spring down the steep slope on that side, and by felling a few trees, we can make a very fair shelter for ourselves, as well as a stockade against any sudden attack."
The place, certainly, was well chosen. There was a small open space on the top of the hill, but no view could be obtained from this as the trees grew thick all round. It was, however, sufficiently obvious that the sides of the hill were very steep, and a handful of men could hold their own for some time, especially with the aid of a few fallen trees to form a breastwork.
As it was now getting dark, no time was to be lost in making their preparations for spending the night. While these operations were going on, Ceolwulf said he would go down into the valley, and find out how matters really were in the vicinity of their old home. So saying, and equipping himself in his hawberk, and with all his offensive weapons, he disappeared among the trees on his way down the hill.
CHAPTER IX.
"I CAN CALL SPIRITS FROM THE VASTY DEEP."
Ceolwulf descended the steep side of the thickly-wooded hill with the assured step of one who well knew his way, although the increasing gloom of night was fast spreading over hill and dale. After walking about a mile through the dense brushwood, the old Wihtwara emerged upon a smooth slope of grassy down, and even he, sturdy and matter-of-fact old heathen as he was, stopped a moment to look at the beautiful scene before him; not so much struck, however, with its beauty and poetry, as from a desire to take in all he could of the well-known aspect of his native land while yet there was any chance of seeing, and to compare the present appearance of the cottages with what they had been before the fatal onslaught of Arwald and his followers.
At Ceolwulf's feet stretched the close, wind-worn grass of the westerly sloping hill-side, reflecting the rich glow which still suffused the darkling sky. Beyond gleamed the sheen of a wide-stretching marsh, across which the curlews called and the bitterns cried, and in which the reflection of the evening star, setting over the distant top of St. Boniface Down, streamed in flickering light. Across the Marsh a bank of land separated the floods that came from the centre of the island, from the waters of the great deep; for on the other side of this narrow strip of land a wide and magnificent bay spread out its grey depth, till it met the violet of the sky beneath the crimson glow of the departed sun. Rising out of this sea, and forming the western side of the noble bay, loomed a magnificent hill, the base of which lay bathed and hidden in the green-grey mist; but enough of the shape of the promontory could be seen to justify its name of the "Dunnose," by which it is now known. The upper part of the hill stood up in clear outline, presenting a solid, opaque mass of deep purple against the golden background, and descended abruptly towards the north in two steep slopes, or escarpments, to the level of a wide-reaching valley that led up to the centre of the island. On the other side of this valley a line of downs presenting their slope to the western light, stretched in fore-shortened length, till they ended in a wooded hill immediately fronting the place where Ceolwulf stood. The lovely scene gradually changed from the lingering warmth of day to the colder shades of night, and all objects grew rapidly indistinguishable.
"Too late to make out what is left of the house," muttered Ceolwulf, "and as the floods seem to be out, I don't see that I can cross the Yare by the old ford. I shall have to go round by the sands along the dunes."