by A. D. Crake
CHAPTER IX. A HUNT IN THE WOODS.
The winter of the year 1068 was setting in with great severity,sharp winds from the north and east had already stripped the fadedleaves from the trees of the forest, and the heavens werefrequently veiled by dark masses of cloud, from whence fast-fallingsnow ever and anon descended.
The winter opened drearily for the inhabitants of Aescendune, forthe "mystery of the forest" was yet unsolved; none knew whencethose incendiaries had issued who had given Yew Farm, with all itsinmates, to the vengeful flames; but that this latter conflagrationwas in some way connected with the earlier destruction of St.Wilfred's Priory seemed not unlikely to most men.
Hugo de Malville cum Aescendune was not the man to sit calmly onthe battlements of his newly-built towers and survey thedestruction of his property, although he was not free from aterrible dread that his sins were finding him out, at which timeshe was like a haunted man who sees spectres, invisible to the worldaround.
Well did he surmise from whom the deadly provocation came, the lossof his farm, the death of a noble lad committed to his care; not tomention the loss of some common men, who could easily be replaced:for there were ever fresh swarms of Normans, French, and Bretonspouring into poor old England, as though it were some newlydiscovered and uninhabited land.
The aggressors, he doubted not, were the outlaws his tyranny haddriven to the forests, the forerunners of the Robin Hoods andLittle Johns of later days, whose exploits against the Norman raceawoke the enthusiasm of so many minstrels and ballad makers{x}.
But all his efforts were in vain: neither men nor dogs could trackthe fugitives, although all the woods were explored, save only thatimpassable Dismal Swamp, where all seemed rottenness and slime, andwhere it could scarcely be imagined aught human could live.
Day after day the vengeful baron ranged the woods with his dogs andmen-at-arms, but all in vain.
Neither would Etienne forbear his woodland sports, although thestragglers in the forest were constantly cut off by their unseenfoe; but in his hunts, accompanied by Pierre, his sole survivingcompanion, he sought more eagerly for the tracks of men than ofbeasts, and vowed he would some day avenge poor Louis.
Brave although the Normans were, they hesitated to remain in theoutlying cottages and farms which were yet untouched by thedestroyer, and therefore, by their lord's permission, concentratedtheir forces in and around the castle, where they kept diligentwatch, as men who held their lives in their hands, and shunned thewoods after nightfall.
For night after night the fatal fires blazed, now at one extremityof the domain, now at another, until there threatened to be verylittle left to burn, unless some prompt and decisive measures weretaken; but superstitious fears united with natural ones to assistthe unseen enemy, by paralysing the courage of the hithertoinvincible Norman.
This state of things could be endured no longer; and the baron sentembassies to the neighbouring barons to beg their aid against acombination of outlaws united against law and society, who hadburnt his farms and slain his retainers, and whom, owing to hislimited numbers, he had yet failed to exterminate.
The Normans clung together; hence their power--as the weakness ofthe poor English was disunion--and favourable replies beingreceived, a day was appointed for a general search to be made inthe forest by the barons living near its borders.
It came at last--a day in November, when the sun seemed making alast effort to prevail against coming winter. The wind was freshand bracing, and nature appeared bright and cheerful, on thatlong-to-be-remembered morning.
Early in the morn, just after sunrise, Bernard de Torci, Gilbertd'Aubyn, Eustace de Senville, and a large body of their retainers,arrived at the castle. They found the men of Aescendune prepared toreceive them, and the leaders entered the council chamber of theirhost.
There they perfected their plans--the forest was divided intoportions, and a district assigned to each leader to be subdividedand thoroughly explored. All human tracks were to be followed up bythe help of the hounds, and prisoners, when taken, to be sent,under guard, to the castle, there to be rigorously examined, ifnecessary by torture.
The only part of the scheme presenting any real difficulty was themorass in the centre of the forest, already known to our readers.Hugo believed it impenetrable, and that no human being could livewithin its area; but he sent for his chief huntsman, and examinedhim before his fellow nobles.
He found that old Ralph regarded the Dismal Swamp, as they calledthe morass, as utterly uninhabitable and impassable; he had neverheard any sounds of life from within; he thought the place haunted;it abounded in quagmires, and corpse lights and baleful fires wereseen on its waters at night.
The man was dismissed, and it was decided, that the borders of themorass should be explored, although with little hope of finding anytrace of the foe; but should such be found, it was not to beneglected, the more especially if the search were conductedelsewhere in vain.
The northern part of the forest fell to Hugo's share, and wassubdivided by him between his chief retainers. Every nook was to beinvestigated, and signals were arranged whereby all the hunterscould be assembled together in case of need.
The work was a very arduous one, for the portion assigned to theretainers of Aescendune alone, occupied a circuit of some fifteenmiles, bounded on the east by a stream which ran into the Avon, onthe north by a well-defined range of wooded hills.
This was the most important section of all, for what faintindications had been gained of the whereabouts of the foe, allpointed in this direction.
The men-at-arms were divided into five distinct bands, lightlyarmed, because of the distance they had to travel, and Etienneclaimed and obtained the command of one party.
However, the baron, while he had no doubt of his son's valour,grievously doubted his discretion, and added to the party Ralph,his chief forester, strictly charging Etienne in any difficulty tobe guided by his advice--directions which the young heir receivedwith a toss of the head, which spoke volumes for his submission.
They entered the forest--a gallant array, each party numberingabout twenty, and there were nearly twenty of such bands; but whenthey divided and again subdivided, and each took their differentroutes, they appeared lost in the vastness of the forest, and in avery few minutes every band was so isolated that they heard nosounds indicating that any save themselves were in the wood.
We will leave all other parties to their fate, and confine ourattention to that commanded by Etienne, which, indeed, was destinedto surpass all the others in the results accomplished, and in theirinfluence on the future destinies of all the personages in ourhistory.
They proceeded fully five miles from home before their real taskbegan. Perhaps the reader will wonder how they could know their owndestined region in so pathless a wilderness, but it was part of thetraining they had received as hunters to find their way in thelonely woods; and there were signs innumerable which told themwhere they were, and in what direction they were going. Etiennealone, could guide his men while day lasted, as well as a pilotcould steer a ship in a well-known archipelago, and in Ralph he hada tower of strength.
Every landmark was known--the course of every stream; each tree, bythe direction in which it threw its boughs and by the mosses at thefoot of its trunk, told the points of the compass.
Yet there were probably, in so large an extent of country, manywild glens and deep fastnesses hitherto untraversed, and these hadto be discovered and explored.
Straight through the territory assigned to them marched our littleband; keen-nosed dogs went first, secured by leashes, that the gamethey continually aroused might not lead them astray; men followedwho, like American Indians, looked for "trails" in every softsurface of ground, and along the banks of each stream of sweetwater, where men might come to drink, but by noon they hadtraversed the whole extent of their territory in a straight line,and discovered nothing. Once, indeed, they thought they were on thescent of man; but they had crossed the trail of a wild boar andcould not res
train themselves from following it up, the scent wasso fresh, and herein they wasted much time, but succeeded inkilling their boar; and Etienne at once proposed that, since it wasmidday, they should light a fire and dine upon its flesh.
The forester, old Ralph, objected that the smoke would reveal theirpresence, and frustrate the object of their expedition; but theyoung noble replied so rudely that the old man withdrew hisobjection.
The fire was kindled, the smoke arose high above the tree tops inthe clear atmosphere, and soon the poor boar was dissected, and thechoicest parts of his flesh held on spits. 'Twas somewhat fresh,but none the worse, thought the roasters, for that.
The glade in which they were seated, through which the little brookfoamed and tumbled, was surrounded by magnificent old oaks, somewith hollow trunks, others with branches gnarled and twisted in athousand fantastic shapes, some yet retained a portion of theirleaves--brown and sere, one or two were enveloped with ivy, andhere and there the mistletoe could be seen, thick and verdant. Itwas a spot the Druids must have delighted to haunt in the timesgone by, and one a painter might like to hap upon now in hiswoodland strolls.
Some fallen logs were close by the stream, and upon these one partyplaced the viands, or seated their own comely forms, while otherspiled fresh sticks upon the fire, and held out the fizzing meat onspits--full of enjoyment of the hour, and utterly careless ofdanger.
Pierre was seated on one of the fallen trees; Etienne was playingwith the dogs, now only two in number, when the elder of themlifted its nose in the air, and then began to growl ominously.
"The dog begins to be uneasy," said old Ralph.
"Another wild boar, probably."
"Had we not better appoint a sentinel or two? we might be taken bysurprise in this glade."
"Ralph, where hast thou left thy manhood? Art thou afraid of theseshadows?"
"They were not shadows who burnt our farms."
"I wish they had some substance, then we might get hold of them."
"May I appoint men to keep watch?"
"It is not necessary," replied Etienne, quite wilfully, for he haddetermined not to be advised.
The meal was now prepared, and the whole party gathered round thefire, arranging the logs so as to form seats. They were soon eatingwith the zest of men who have had the advantage of forest air, whenthey were disturbed by another growl from the older dog.
Ralph looked uneasily round.
"He smells another boar, but one is enough for our dinner," saidEtienne, and they turned again to their meal.
Suddenly one of their number, a woodman named Gilbert, leapt upwith a wild cry, and then fell down in their midst dead.
An arrow had pierced his heart.
The Normans rose aghast at this sudden intrusion of death, andgazed wildly around.
But all was yet silent, no war cry followed this deadly act ofhostility--the woods seemed asleep.
"To cover," cried Ralph the forester, assuming instinctively thecommand; "let your own arrows be ready for these lurking cowards."
And the Normans, sheltering themselves behind the trunks of thetrees, stood, their arrows fitted to the string, to await the onsetthey momentarily expected.
But it did not take place, and after a trying pause of someminutes, Etienne, who had quite recovered his audacity, and who wasa little nettled at being, as it were, superseded in the commandfor the moment, shouted:
"Keep your eyes open and search the cover, the miscreants haveprobably fled, but we may put the dogs on the track."
The obedient vassals obeyed, not without some hesitation, for theyfelt that the moment of exposure might be that of death. Still theywere forced to undergo the risk, and they searched the immediateneighbourhood, omitting no precautions that experience in woodlandwarfare suggested.
But all their search was in vain.
"Shall we blow the horn and summon further assistance?" said Ralph.
"No, we shall but recall the other parties from their duties," saidEtienne, not wisely, for the cause was sufficient--they were atleast in the neighbourhood of the foe whom all panted to discover;but he was angry with the old forester, and would receive nosuggestion.
The dogs, although they ran hither and thither, their noses to theground, seemed as much in fault as the men, and after an hour hadpassed in this vain attempt to track the invisible foe, Etiennegave orders to abandon the spot and resume their appointed task,for they had yet to explore a square mile or two of forest--thosenearest the morass.
But here Ralph ventured a remonstrance; the day was far spent, theyhad but an hour or two of daylight, and there were heavy clouds inthe northeast, which seemed to indicate a snowstorm; he thought"they had better return towards home as fast as they could, andfinish their work on the morrow."
"If thou fearest for thyself, I give thee leave to return, old man;for me, I will stay here till my duty is accomplished, and so willall who value their fealty."
"It is the first time one of thy house has ever thus spoken to me,my young lord."
"Let it be the last time then," said the proud youth; "it dependsbut upon thyself; and now lead the way--our path is westward.Examine the ground closely; we know we are in the neighbourhood ofthe foe."
They obeyed, and an hour passed away without any further alarm,when the dogs recommenced their warning growls.
The men appeared terrified: they knew what had followed thosewarnings before, and their light jerkins of untanned leather werenot proof against arrows. They directed their keenest glances intothe forest.
The tall trees rose like the pillars of a cathedral, supporting thefretwork of branches on every side; here and there some monarch ofthe woods had fallen, and was now covered over with ivy; but noother shelter seemed at hand which might conceal a foe, save somelittle undergrowth here and there.
But the most serious thing was the hour; the day was fastdeclining; the clouds which floated above them were fast assumingthose roseate tints which they receive from the setting sun; whilebehind them vast masses, which looked black by contrast with theglowing west, were slowly obscuring the heavens, and the winds wereheard moaning more and more loudly as each minute passed.
There was hardly a member of the band who did not share Ralph'suneasiness, and who would not have given much to find himself safein the castle; but their wilful young leader was still unmoved--itmust be owned that his courage bordered on foolhardiness.
At length the darkness came, as with a rush, upon them; the blackclouds were overhead; some feathery flakes of snow blew aboutthem--precursors of the coming storm. Their work was stillunaccomplished, but Etienne at length heeded the murmurs of theparty, and calling them together, for they had dispersed to lookafter the signs they hoped to find, said:
"I fear we must leave our work unfinished--we can see no longer,and may as well return home."
"My lord, would it please thee to number the party? we should betwenty."
"Count them thyself," he said.
"Fifteen."
"We left one behind us where we rested, but where are the rest?"said Ralph.
"It is useless to search for them now--it is so dark, the hour islate--we must return tomorrow."
"Perhaps," said the old forester, sorrowfully, "but we are in aforest infested by these English fiends, perhaps by real demons.There are many who affirm as much, and there is not a man here whomight not profitably give up a year of his life to be just fivemiles nearer home."
The old man took the office of guide upon himself, naturally, asthe most experienced in woodcraft, and for a mile or two led withconfidence; but at length the darkness became intense, and theguide paused.
The night was indeed terrible; it was as black as ink--they couldscarce see the uplifted hand when held before the face; while, toadd to their discomfort, the snow, now they had changed theircourse, blew into their faces; the wind had risen and moaned inhollow gusts amidst the tree tops. Its wailings seemed likeprognostications of coming evil.
It was at this juncture Ralph
was forced to confess he could nolonger feel certain of the track.
"Let us trust to the dogs," said he; "they have an instinct betterthan our reason. Let them have long leashes, and go as freely aspossible; we shall easily follow them, and, please God, shall reachhome in time."
"There is a better guide," replied Etienne, as they all suddenlysaw a solitary light, as from a man carrying a torch, arise beforethem in the darkness, and glide gently on into the depths of theforest.