We were able to reach our destination without molestation from the enemy, their energies being fully occupied by other matters until we had got clear away. It was thought desirable not to embark until nightfall, unless we were compelled to do so; for it was more than probable, had we put out to sea, the movements of the vessel would have been observed by the enemy. A gangway, however, was laid ready for emergencies, whilst scouts were posted at points of observation, thus making it impossible for us to be surprised. During the day, the cattle were permitted to graze in the wood near, and when the shades of night gathered about us, they were driven aboard, and we weighed anchor and stood across the bay. Ultimately we reached our destination without mishap, though we had, in consequence of our cattle, to travel with the utmost circumspection.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
WILD DARING OF SIGURD THE VIKING.
"When Greeks joined Greeks, then was the tug of war."
Nathaniel Lee.
It was a most grievous disappointment to Sigurd when the Saxon leaders finally decided not to attack the Normans, and thus checkmate them as they sought to capture the Saxons whilst in council. When he saw that there was no hope of the Saxons uniting in this, he appealed most importunately to Hereward to join him, but in vain. When everything failed, so insatiate was his thirst for vengeance that he determined to attack them single-handed, trusting to his prowess, and his familiarity with the passes and the mountain retreats, to secure for himself immunity from capture.
"If I had but a dozen of my hardy mountaineers, I would lead these Normans a dance before this day was done!" he muttered, as he saw the remnant of the Saxons departing. His hatred of the Normans had so eaten into his soul, that every opportunity to attack them was a favourable one, and he was ready for any scheme of wild daring if only Norman blood could be spilled. So, alone, he grimly and resolutely strode up the pass, until he reached a spot he deemed suitable for his purpose. Boulders and bushes intermingled thickly on one side; on the other was a precipice—a sheer drop of twenty feet into a trout-stream, which threaded its way amid limestone boulders.
Behind him the gaunt, gloomy mountains shot up far away, their lower parts covered thickly with bracken, bushes, and boulders; behind and amid which a retreating figure need never be exposed for more than a second at a time. Looking around for a second or two, he gave a grunt of satisfaction, and then he climbed a few yards from the path, and laid himself down amid the bracken and deep grass, with his broad sword unsheathed and laid by his side, ready for the fray. Thus he waited for the oncoming Norman soldiery. For more than an hour he lay thus in ambush, with wild and turbulent passions fermenting in his breast, and a wild look in his eyes—reason for the moment dethroned by this one overmastering passion.