were picketed and hobbled in a rich grassy bottom close
by, from which the quiet munch of their equine jaws
sounded pleasantly, for it told of healthy appetites,
and promised speed on the morrow. The fear of being
overtaken during the night was now past, and the
faithful Crusoe, by virtue of sight, hearing, and smell,
guaranteed them against sudden attack during the hours
of slumber. A perfume of wild flowers mingled with
the loved odours of the "weed," and the tinkle of a
tiny rivulet fell sweetly on their ears. In short, the