“Nor treasure,” the Mammoth interrupted.
“Not even a cave,” added Wulli.
The upshot of the matter was that all three agreed to leave the country. The glacial summer was nearing its close and the return journey, if made leisurely, would bring them none too soon to winter quarters in the Vézère. So they made haste to depart from a region, once all sunshine and promise, but now become cheerless and full of peril. The brief period of happiness following their arrival was forgotten in the indignities now thrust upon them. The country had welcomed them; by its inhabitants were they now expelled. They turned their backs upon the lowlands of the great London Basin with no fond memories of its former hospitality. The river and terraces sank from sight behind the retiring pilgrims and the Valley of the Thames saw them no more.
XI
After several days’ journey, the three friends entered a broad valley bordered by low hills and gently rolling plains. This valley was too shallow to cause Pic and his comrades any serious concern. A clear view of the country was presented on all sides. No cliffs gave opportunity for hidden enemies to hurl down rocks or darts. No forests confronted them which might conceal cunningly arranged deadfalls or other traps. The slopes were bare except for coarse grass, sedge and rank growth. The Men of Kent seemed content that the prey for which they had striven so long and determinedly, should escape them at last. When the trio fled southward from the Thames Valley, they left their persecutors behind—presumably, for not a trace of them could be seen.
Pic felt no little surprise that the retreat of himself and companions was thus undisputed; but Hairi and Wulli showed no inclination to worry, so the matter passed from his thoughts. His fears subsided, his suspicions were lulled and he permitted himself a welcome feeling of security. All things pointed to an uninterrupted journey south and godspeed.
In the sheltered valley, the Mammoth and Rhinoceros found sufficient fodder to satisfy their wants. But grazing operations consumed much time. They reduced an otherwise rapid flight to a slow and orderly retreat. However, this mattered little. No unusual dangers had appeared and the three friends no longer considered themselves as hunted creatures fleeing through a hostile country. Even while passing through the Kentish Downs, they paid little attention to the narrowing, deepening valley and the mountains rising above them on both sides. Not until they found themselves in a narrow defile, did any one of the three realize that the broad valley had gradually resolved itself into a deep gorge flanked by almost perpendicular walls. This gorge terminated in a cleft or pass, beyond which spread a vast, gently-rolling plain—the fertile lowlands of the Kentish Weald. The pass was the sole means of reaching the open country unless the trio saw fit to retrace their steps and climb the valley slopes for a wide detour eastward. This latter course seemed a needless waste of time and effort considering the end to be attained. The straightest and shortest route was by all odds the best. It lay before them, so they kept on.