The Wood Beyond the World - By William Morris

(Chapters 7, 8 and 9)

Chapter 7 - Walter Comes to the Shard in the Rock-Wall

As they were in converse thus, they heard the hunters blowing on
their horns all together; whereon the old man arose, and said: "I
deem by the blowing that the hunt will be over and done, and that
they be blowing on their fellows who have gone scatter-meal about
the wood. It is now some five hours after noon, and thy men will be
getting back with their venison, and will be fainest of the victuals
they have caught; therefore will I hasten on before, and get ready
fire and water and other matters for the cooking. Wilt thou come
with me, young master, or abide thy men here?"

Walter said lightly: "I will rest and abide them here; since I
cannot fail to see them hence as they go on their ways to thine
house. And it may be well that I be at hand to command them and
forbid, and put some order amongst them, for rough playmates they
be, some of them, and now all heated with the hunting and the joy of
the green earth." Thus he spoke, as if nought were toward save
supper and bed; but inwardly hope and fear were contending in him,
and again his heart beat so hard, that he deemed that the carle must
surely hear it. But the old man took him but according to his
outward seeming, and nodded his head, and went away quietly toward
his house.

When he had been gone a little, Walter rose up heedfully; he had
with him a scrip wherein was some cheese and hard-fish, and a little
flasket of wine; a short bow he had with him, and a quiver of
arrows; and he was girt with a strong and good sword, and a wood-
knife withal. He looked to all this gear that it was nought amiss,
and then speedily went down off the mound, and when he was come
down, he found that it covered him from men coming out of the wood,
if he went straight thence to that shard of the rock-wall where was
the pass that led southward.

Now it is no nay that thitherward he turned, and went wisely, lest
the carle should make a backward cast, and see him, or lest any
straggler of his own folk might happen upon him.

For to say sooth, he deemed that did they wind him, they would be
like to let him of his journey. He had noted the bearings of the
cliffs nigh the shard, and whereas he could see their heads
everywhere except from the depths of the thicket, he was not like to
go astray.

He had made no great way ere he heard the horns blowing all together
again in one place, and looking thitherward through the leafy boughs
(for he was now amidst of a thicket) he saw his men thronging the
mound, and had no doubt therefore that they were blowing on him; but
being well under cover he heeded it nought, and lying still a
little, saw them go down off the mound and go all of them toward the
carle's house, still blowing as they went, but not faring scatter-
meal. Wherefore it was clear that they were nought troubled about
him.

So he went on his way to the shard; and there is nothing to say of
his journey till he got before it with the last of the clear day,
and entered it straightway. It was in sooth a downright breach or
cleft in the rock-wall, and there was no hill or bent leading up to
it, nothing but a tumble of stones before it, which was somewhat
uneasy going, yet needed nought but labour to overcome it, and when
he had got over this, and was in the very pass itself, he found it
no ill going: forsooth at first it was little worse than a rough
road betwixt two great stony slopes, though a little trickle of
water ran down amidst of it. So, though it was so nigh nightfall,
yet Walter pressed on, yea, and long after the very night was come.
For the moon rose wide and bright a little after nightfall. But at
last he had gone so long, and was so wearied, that he deemed it
nought but wisdom to rest him, and so lay down on a piece of
greensward betwixt the stones, when he had eaten a morsel out of his
satchel, and drunk of the water out of the stream. There as he lay,
if he had any doubt of peril, his weariness soon made it all one to
him, for presently he was sleeping as soundly as any man in Langton
on Holm.

CHAPTER VIII: WALTER WENDS THE WASTE

Day was yet young when he awoke: he leapt to his feet, and went
down to the stream and drank of its waters, and washed the night off
him in a pool thereof, and then set forth on his way again. When he
had gone some three hours, the road, which had been going up all the
way, but somewhat gently, grew steeper, and the bent on either side
lowered, and lowered, till it sank at last altogether, and then was
he on a rough mountain-neck with little grass, and no water; save
that now and again was a soft place with a flow amidst of it, and
such places he must needs fetch a compass about, lest he be mired.
He gave himself but little rest, eating what he needs must as he
went. The day was bright and calm, so that the sun was never
hidden, and he steered by it due south. All that day he went, and
found no more change in that huge neck, save that whiles it was more
and whiles less steep. A little before nightfall he happened on a
shallow pool some twenty yards over; and he deemed it good to rest
there, since there was water for his avail, though he might have
made somewhat more out of the tail end of the day.

When dawn came again he awoke and arose, nor spent much time over
his breakfast; but pressed on all he might; and now he said to
himself, that whatsoever other peril were athwart his way, he was
out of the danger of the chase of his own folk.

All this while he had seen no four-footed beast, save now and again
a hill-fox, and once some outlandish kind of hare; and of fowl but
very few: a crow or two, a long-winged hawk, and twice an eagle
high up aloft.

Again, the third night, he slept in the stony wilderness, which
still led him up and up. Only toward the end of the day, himseemed
that it had been less steep for a long while: otherwise nought was
changed, on all sides it was nought but the endless neck, wherefrom
nought could be seen, but some other part of itself. This fourth
night withal he found no water whereby he might rest, so that he
awoke parched, and longing to drink just when the dawn was at its
coldest.

But on the fifth morrow the ground rose but little, and at last,
when he had been going wearily a long while, and now, hard on
noontide, his thirst grieved him sorely, he came on a spring welling
out from under a high rock, the water wherefrom trickled feebly
away. So eager was he to drink, that at first he heeded nought
else; but when his thirst was fully quenched his eyes caught sight
of the stream which flowed from the well, and he gave a shout, for
lo! it was running south. Wherefore it was with a merry heart that
he went on, and as he went, came on more streams, all running south
or thereabouts. He hastened on all he might, but in despite of all
the speed he made, and that he felt the land now going down
southward, night overtook him in that same wilderness. Yet when he
stayed at last for sheer weariness, he lay down in what he deemed by
the moonlight to be a shallow valley, with a ridge at the southern
end thereof.

He slept long, and when he awoke the sun was high in the heavens,
and never was brighter or clearer morning on the earth than was
that. He arose and ate of what little was yet left him, and drank
of the water of a stream which he had followed the evening before,
and beside which he had laid him down; and then set forth again with
no great hope to come on new tidings that day. But yet when he was
fairly afoot, himseemed that there was something new in the air
which he breathed, that was soft and bore sweet scents home to him;
whereas heretofore, and that especially for the last three or four
days, it had been harsh and void, like the face of the desert
itself.

So on he went, and presently was mounting the ridge aforesaid, and,
as oft happens when one climbs a steep place, he kept his eyes on
the ground, till he felt he was on the top of the ridge. Then he
stopped to take breath, and raised his head and looked, and lo! he
was verily on the brow of the great mountain-neck, and down below
him was the hanging of the great hill-slopes, which fell down, not
slowly, as those he had been those days a-mounting, but speedily
enough, though with little of broken places or sheer cliffs. But
beyond this last of the desert there was before him a lovely land of
wooded hills, green plains, and little valleys, stretching out far
and wide, till it ended at last in great blue mountains and white
snowy peaks beyond them.

Then for very surprise of joy his spirit wavered, and he felt faint
and dizzy, so that he was fain to sit down a while and cover his
face with his hands. Presently he came to his sober mind again, and
stood up and looked forth keenly, and saw no sign of any dwelling of
man. But he said to himself that that might well be because the
good and well-grassed land was still so far off, and that he might
yet look to find men and their dwellings when he had left the
mountain wilderness quite behind him: So therewith he fell to going
his ways down the mountain, and lost little time therein, whereas he
now had his livelihood to look to.

CHAPTER IX: WALTER HAPPENETH ON THE FIRST OF THOSE THREE CREATURES

What with one thing, what with another, as his having to turn out of
his way for sheer rocks, or for slopes so steep that he might not
try the peril of them, and again for bogs impassable, he was fully
three days more before he had quite come out of the stony waste, and
by that time, though he had never lacked water, his scanty victual
was quite done, for all his careful husbandry thereof. But this
troubled him little, whereas he looked to find wild fruits here and
there and to shoot some small deer, as hare or coney, and make a
shift to cook the same, since he had with him flint and fire-steel.
Moreover the further he went, the surer he was that he should soon
come across a dwelling, so smooth and fair as everything looked
before him. And he had scant fear, save that he might happen on men
who should enthrall him.

But when he was come down past the first green slopes, he was so
worn, that he said to himself that rest was better than meat, so
little as he had slept for the last three days; so he laid him down
under an ash-tree by a stream-side, nor asked what was o'clock, but
had his fill of sleep, and even when he awoke in the fresh morning
was little fain of rising, but lay betwixt sleeping and waking for
some three hours more; then he arose, and went further down the next
green bent, yet somewhat slowly because of his hunger-weakness. And
the scent of that fair land came up to him like the odour of one
great nosegay.

So he came to where the land was level, and there were many trees,
as oak and ash, and sweet-chestnut and wych-elm, and hornbeam and
quicken-tree, not growing in a close wood or tangled thicket, but
set as though in order on the flowery greensward, even as it might
be in a great king's park.

So came he to a big bird-cherry, whereof many boughs hung low down
laden with fruit: his belly rejoiced at the sight, and he caught
hold of a bough, and fell to plucking and eating. But whiles he was
amidst of this, he heard suddenly, close anigh him, a strange noise
of roaring and braying, not very great, but exceeding fierce and
terrible, and not like to the voice of any beast that he knew. As
has been aforesaid, Walter was no faint-heart; but what with the
weakness of his travail and hunger, what with the strangeness of his
adventure and his loneliness, his spirit failed him; he turned round
towards the noise, his knees shook and he trembled: this way and
that he looked, and then gave a great cry and tumbled down in a
swoon; for close before him, at his very feet, was the dwarf whose
image he had seen before, clad in his yellow coat, and grinning up
at him from his hideous hairy countenance.

How long he lay there as one dead, he knew not, but when he woke
again there was the dwarf sitting on his hams close by him. And
when he lifted up his head, the dwarf sent out that fearful harsh
voice again; but this time Walter could make out words therein, and
knew that the creature spoke and said:

"How now! What art thou? Whence comest? What wantest?"

Walter sat up and said: "I am a man; I hight Golden Walter; I come
from Langton; I want victual."

Said the dwarf, writhing his face grievously, and laughing forsooth:
"I know it all: I asked thee to see what wise thou wouldst lie. I
was sent forth to look for thee; and I have brought thee loathsome
bread with me, such as ye aliens must needs eat: take it!"

Therewith he drew a loaf from a satchel which he bore, and thrust it
towards Walter, who took it somewhat doubtfully for all his hunger.

The dwarf yelled at him: "Art thou dainty, alien? Wouldst thou
have flesh? Well, give me thy bow and an arrow or two, since thou
art lazy-sick, and I will get thee a coney or a hare, or a quail
maybe. Ah, I forgot; thou art dainty, and wilt not eat flesh as I
do, blood and all together, but must needs half burn it in the fire,
or mar it with hot water; as they say my Lady does: or as the
Wretch, the Thing does; I know that, for I have seen It eating."

"Nay," said Walter, "this sufficeth;" and he fell to eating the
bread, which was sweet between his teeth. Then when he had eaten a
while, for hunger compelled him, he said to the dwarf: "But what
meanest thou by the Wretch and the Thing? And what Lady is thy
Lady?"

The creature let out another wordless roar as of furious anger; and
then the words came: "It hath a face white and red, like to thine;
and hands white as thine, yea, but whiter; and the like it is
underneath its raiment, only whiter still: for I have seen It--yes,
I have seen It; ah yes and yes and yes."

And therewith his words ran into gibber and yelling, and he rolled
about and smote at the grass: but in a while he grew quiet again
and sat still, and then fell to laughing horribly again, and then
said: "But thou, fool, wilt think It fair if thou fallest into Its
hands, and wilt repent it thereafter, as I did. Oh, the mocking and
gibes of It, and the tears and shrieks of It; and the knife! What!
sayest thou of my Lady?--What Lady? O alien, what other Lady is
there? And what shall I tell thee of her? it is like that she made
me, as she made the Bear men. But she made not the Wretch, the
Thing; and she hateth It sorely, as I do. And some day to come--"

Thereat he brake off and fell to wordless yelling a long while, and
thereafter spake all panting: "Now I have told thee overmuch, and O
if my Lady come to hear thereof. Now I will go."

And therewith he took out two more loaves from his wallet, and
tossed them to Walter, and so turned and went his ways; whiles
walking upright, as Walter had seen his image on the quay of
Langton; whiles bounding and rolling like a ball thrown by a lad;
whiles scuttling along on all-fours like an evil beast, and ever and
anon giving forth that harsh and evil cry.

Walter sat a while after he was out of sight, so stricken with
horror and loathing and a fear of he knew not what, that he might
not move. Then he plucked up a heart, and looked to his weapons and
put the other loaves into his scrip.

Then he arose and went his ways wondering, yea and dreading, what
kind of creature he should next fall in with. For soothly it seemed
to him that it would be worse than death if they were all such as
this one; and that if it were so, he must needs slay and be slain.

Continue on to chapters 10-12