CHAPTER XVII. THE TOKEN COMETH FROM THE MOUNTAIN.
THE next day wore away tidingless; and the day after Face-of-god arosebetimes; for it was the first day of his watch, and he was at the MaidenWard before the time appointed on a very fair and bright morning, and hewent to and fro on that place, and had no tidings. So he came awaysomewhat cast down, and said within himself: ‘Is it but a lie and amocking when all is said?’
On the morrow he went thither again, and the morn was wild and stormywith drift of rain, and low clouds hurrying over the earth, though forthe sunrise they lifted a little in the east, and the sun came up overthe passes, amidst the red and angry rack of clouds. This morn also gavehim no tidings of the token, and he was wroth and perturbed in spirit:but towards evening he said:
‘It is well: ten days she gave me, so that she might be able to sendwithout fail on one of them; she will not fail me.’
So again on the morrow he was there betimes, and the morn was windy as onthe day before, but the clouds higher and of better promise for the day.Face-of-god walked to and fro on the Maiden Ward, and as he turned towardBurgstead for the tenth time, he heard, as he deemed, a bow-string twangafar off, and even therewith came a shaft flying heavily like a wingedbird, which smote a great standing stone on the other side of the way,where of old some chieftain had been buried, and fell to earth at itsfoot. He went up to it and handled it, and saw that there was a piece ofthin parchment wrapped about it, which indeed he was eager to unwrap atonce, but forebore; because he was on the highway, and people werealready astir, and even then passed by him a goodman of the Dale with aman of his going afield together, and they gave him the sele of the day.So he went along the highway a little till he came to a place where was afootbridge over into the meadow. He crossed thereby and went swiftlytill he reached a rising ground grown over with hazel-trees; there he satdown among the rabbit-holes, the primrose and wild-garlic blooming abouthim, and three blackbirds answering one another from the edges of thecoppice. Straightway when he had looked and seen none coming he brokethe threads that were wound about the scroll and the arrow, and unrolledthe parchment; and there was writing thereon in black ink of smallletters, but very fair, and this is what he read therein:
_Come thou to the Mountain Hall by the path which thou knowest of_, _on the morrow of the day whereon thou readest this_. _Rise betimes and come armed_, _for there are other men than we in the wood_; _to whom thy death should be a gain_. _When thou art come to the Hall_, _thou shalt find no man therein_; _but a great hound only_, _tied to a bench nigh the daïs_. _Call him by his name_, _Sure-foot to wit_, _and give him to eat from the meat upon the board_, _and give him water __to drink_. _If the day is then far spent_, _as it is like to be_, _abide thou with the hound in the hall through the night_, _and eat of what thou shalt find there_; _but see that the hound fares not abroad till the morrow’s morn_: _then lead him out and bring him to the north-east corner of the Hall_, _and he shall lift the slot for thee that leadeth to the Shadowy Yale_. _Follow him and all good go with thee_.
Now when he had read this, earth seemed fair indeed about him, and hescarce knew whither to turn or what to do to make the most of his joy.He presently went back to Burgstead and into the House of the Face, whereall men were astir now, and the day was clearing. He hid the shaft underhis kirtle, for he would not that any should see it; so he went to hisshut-bed and laid it up in his chest, wherein he kept his chiefesttreasures; but the writing on the scroll he set in his bosom and so hidit. He went joyfully and proudly, as one who knoweth more tidings andbetter than those around him. But Stone-face beheld him, and said‘Foster-son, thou art happy. Is it that the spring-tide is in thy blood,and maketh thee blithe with all things, or hast thou some new tidings?Nay, I would not have an answer out of thee; but here is good rede: whennext thou goest into the wood, it were nought so ill for thee to have avaliant old carle by thy side; one that loveth thee, and would die forthee if need were; one who might watch when thou wert seeking. Or elsebeware! for there are evil things abroad in the Wood, and moreover thebrethren of those two felons who were slain at Carlstead.’
Then Gold-mane constrained himself to answer the old carle softly; and hethanked him kindly for his offer, and said that so it should be beforelong. So the talk between them fell, and Stone-face went away somewhatwell-pleased.
And now was Face-of-god become wary; and he would not draw men’s eyes andspeech on him; so he went afield with Hall-face to deal with the lambsand the ewes, and did like other men. No less wary was he in the hallthat even, and neither spake much nor little; and when his father spaketo him concerning the Bride, and made game of him as a somewhat sluggishgroom, he did not change countenance, but answered lightly what came tohand.
On the morrow ere the earliest dawn he was afoot, and he clad himself anddid on his hauberk, his father’s work, which was fine-wrought and a stoutdefence, and reached down to his knees; and over that he did on a goodlygreen kirtle well embroidered: he girt his war-sword to his side, and itwas the work of his father’s father, and a very good sword: its name wasDale-warden. He did a good helm on his head, and slung a targe at hisback, and took two spears in his hand, short but strong-shafted andwell-steeled. Thus arrayed he left Burgstead before the dawn, and cameto Wildlake’s Way and betook him to the Woodland. He made no stop orstay on the path, but ate his meat standing by an oak-tree close by thehalf-blind track. When he came to the little wood-lawn, where was thetoft of the ancient house, he looked all round about him, for he deemedthat a likely place for those ugly wood-wights to set on him; but noughtbefell him, though he stooped and drank of the woodland rill warilyenough. So he passed on; and there were other places also where he faredwarily, because they seemed like to hold lurking felons; though forsooththe whole wood might well serve their turn. But no evil befell him, andat last, when it yet lacked an hour to sunset, he came to the wood-lawnwhere Wild-wearer had made his onset that other eve.
He went straight up to the house, his heart beating, and he scarcebelieving but that he should find the Friend abiding him there: but whenhe pushed the door it gave way before him at once, and he entered andfound no man therein, and the walls stripped bare and no shield or weaponhanging on the panels. But the hound he saw tied to a bench nigh thedaïs, and the bristles on the beast’s neck arose, and he snarled onFace-of-god, and strained on his leathern leash. Then Face-of-god wentup to him and called him by his name, Sure-foot, and gave him his hand tolick, and he brought him water, and fed him with flesh from the meat onthe board; so the beast became friendly and wagged his tail and whinedand slobbered his hand.
Then he went all about the house, and saw and heard no living thingtherein save the mice in the panels and Sure-foot. So he came back tothe daïs, and sat him down at the board and ate his fill, and thoughtconcerning his case. And it came into his mind that the Woman of theMountain had some deed for him to do which would try his manliness andexalt his fame; and his heart rose high and he was glad, and he sawhimself sitting beside her on the daïs of a very fair hall beloved andhonoured of all the folk, and none had aught to say against him or owedhim any grudge. Thus he pleased himself in thinking of the good days tocome, sitting there till the hall grew dusk and dark and the night-windmoaned about it.
Then after a while he arose and raked together the brands on the hearth,and made light in the hall and looked to the door. And he found therewere bolts and bars thereto, so he shot the bolts and drew the bars intotheir places and made all as sure as might be. Then he brought Sure-footdown from the daïs, and tied him up so that he might lie down athwart thedoor, and then lay down his hauberk with his naked sword ready to hishand, and slept long while.
When he awoke it was darker than when he had lain him for the moon hadset; yet he deemed that the day was at point of breaking. So he fetchedwater and washed the night off him, and saw a little glimmer of the dawn.Then he ate somewhat of the meat on the board, and did on his helm and
his other gear, and unbarred the door, and led Sure-foot without, andbrought him to the north-east corner of the house, and in a little whilehe lifted the slot and they departed, the man and the hound, just asbroke dawn from over the mountains.
Sure-foot led right into the heart of the pine-wood, and it was darkenough therein, with nought but a feeble glimmer for some while, and longwas the way therethrough; but in two hours’ space was there something ofa break, and they came to the shore of a dark deep tarn on whose windlessand green waters the daylight shone fully. The hound skirted the water,and led on unchecked till the trees began to grow smaller and the aircolder for all that the sun was higher; for they had been going up and upall the way.
So at last after a six hours’ journey they came clean out of thepine-wood, and before them lay the black wilderness of the baremountains, and beyond them, looking quite near now, the great ice-peaks,the wall of the world. It was but an hour short of noon by this time,and the high sun shone down on a barren boggy moss which lay betwixt themand the rocky waste. Sure-foot made no stay, but threaded the ways thatwent betwixt the quagmires, and in another hour led Face-of-god into awinding valley blinded by great rocks, and everywhere stony and rough,with a trickle of water running amidst of it. The hound fared on up thedale to where the water was bridged by a great fallen stone, and so overit and up a steep bent on the further side, on to a marvellously roughmountain-neck, whiles mere black sand cumbered with scattered rocks andstones, whiles beset with mires grown over with the cottony mire-grass;here and there a little scanty grass growing; otherwhere nought but dwarfwillow ever dying ever growing, mingled with moss or red-blossomedsengreen; and all blending together into mere desolation.
Few living things they saw there; up on the neck a few sheep were grazingthe scanty grass, but there was none to tend them; yet Face-of-god deemedthe sight of them good, for there must be men anigh who owned them. Forthe rest, the whimbrel laughed across the mires; high up in heaven agreat eagle was hanging; once and again a grey fox leapt up before them,and the heath-fowl whirred up from under Face-of-god’s feet. A raven whowas sitting croaking on a rock in that first dale stirred uneasily on hisperch as he saw them, and when they were passed flapped his wings andflew after them croaking still.
Now they fared over that neck somewhat east, making but slow way becausethe ground was so broken and rocky; and in another hour’s space Sure-footled down-hill due east to where the stony neck sank into another desolatemiry heath still falling toward the east, but whose further side waswalled by a rampart of crags cleft at their tops into marvellous-shapes,coal-black, ungrassed and unmossed. Thitherward the hound led straight,and Gold-mane followed wondering: as he drew near them he saw that theywere not very high, the tallest peak scant fifty feet from the face ofthe heath.
They made their way through the scattered rocks at the foot of thesecrags, till, just where the rock-wall seemed the closest, the way throughthe stones turned into a path going through it skew-wise; and it was nowso clear a path that belike it had been bettered by men’s hands. Downthereby Face-of-god followed the hound, deeming that he was come to thegates of the Shadowy Vale, and the path went down steeply and swiftly.But when he had gone down a while, the rocks on his right hand sank lowerfor a space, so that he could look over and see what lay beneath.
There lay below him a long narrow vale quite plain at the bottom, walledon the further side as on the hither by sheer rocks of black stone. Theplain was grown over with grass, but he could see no tree therein: a deepriver, dark and green, ran through the vale, sometimes through itsmidmost, sometimes lapping the further rock-wall: and he thought indeedthat on many a day in the year the sun would never shine on that valley.
Thus much he saw, and then the rocks rose again and shut it from hissight; and at last they drew so close together over head that he was in away going through a cave with little daylight coming from above, and inthe end he was in a cave indeed and mere darkness: but with the lastfeeble glimmer of light he thought he saw carved on a smooth space of theliving rock at his left hand the image of a wolf.
This cave lasted but a little way, and soon the hound and the man weregoing once more between sheer black rocks, and the path grew steeper yetand was cut into steps. At last there was a sharp turn, and they stoodon the top of a long stony scree, down which Sure-foot bounded eagerly,giving tongue as he went; but Face-of-god stood still and looked, for nowthe whole Dale lay open before him.
That river ran from north to south, and at the south end the cliffs drewso close to it that looking thence no outgate could be seen; but at thenorth end there was as it were a dreary street of rocks, the riverflowing amidmost and leaving little foothold on either side, somewhat asit was with the pass leading from the mountains into Burgdale.
Amidmost of the Dale a little toward the north end he saw a doom-ring ofblack stones, and hard by it an ancient hall builded of the same blackstone both wall and roof, and thitherward was Sure-foot now running.Face-of-god looked up and down the Dale and could see no break in thewall of sheer rock: toward the southern end he saw a few booths and cotsbuilt roughly of stone and thatched with turf; thereabout he saw a fewfolk moving about, the most of whom seemed to be women and children;there were some sheep and lambs near these cots, and a herd of fifty orso of somewhat goodly mountain-kine were feeding higher up the valley.He could look down into the river from where he stood, and he saw that itran between rocky banks going straight down from the face of the meadow,which was rather high above the water, so that it seemed little likelythat the water should rise over its banks, either in summer or winter;and in summer was it like to be highest, because the vale was so near tothe high mountains and their snows.
The Roots of the Mountains Page 18