t care of thy father hath provided us."

The suggestion was by no means a bad one, and the party sat down on a
green and sloping bank, overshadowed by a mighty oak which grew by the
wayside. It was noontide, and the shelter from the heat was not at all
unpleasant. Their wallets were overhauled, and choice provision found
against famine by the road. There were few, very few inns where
travellers could obtain decent accommodation, and every preparation had
been made for a camp out when necessary.

So they ate their midday meal with thankfulness of heart, and reclined
awhile ere courting more fatigue. The day was lovely, and the silence of
the woods almost oppressive; nought save the hum of insects broke its
tranquillity.

Fatigued by the exertions of the morning, the whole party fell asleep;
the gentle breeze, the quiet rustling of the leaves, all combined to
lull the senses. While they thus slept, the day wore on, and the sun was
declining when they awoke and wondered that they had wasted their time
for so long a period.

Starting again with renewed energy, they travelled onward through the
mighty forest till sunset, when they approached the high ground which
now runs along the northern boundary of Oxfordshire and of which
Edgehill forms a portion. Though progress had been slow, for the road,
although secure, was yet in so neglected a state as to form an obstacle
to rapid travelling, and they had met no fellow travellers. Leaving the
Foss Way, which followed the valley, and slowly ascending the hill by a
well-marked track, they looked back from its summit upon a glorious
view. Far as the eye could reach stretched the forest to the northward,
one huge unbroken expanse save where the thin wreaths of smoke showed
some village or homestead, where English farmers already wrestled with
the obstacles nature had formed. But westward the view was more
home-like; the setting sun was sinking behind the huge heights now known
as the Malvern Hills, which reared their forms proudly in the distant
horizon.

The western sky was rich in the hues of the departing sun, which cast
its declining beams upon village and homestead, thinly scattered in the
fertile vale through which the Foss Way pursued its course.

But our travellers did not stay long to contemplate the beauty of the
scene; they were yet ten miles from the hospitable roof where they had
purposed spending the night, and they had overslept themselves so long
at their noont