ge of Dartmoor, and here
the king had a guest house in a little village which he was wont to
use on these journeys to see Neot. We should rest there, and so
cross the wastes in full daylight. So he went in, maybe fearing his
sickness, which was indeed a sore burden to him, though he was wont
to make light of it; but Ethelnoth asked me if we should not spend
the hours of evening light in coursing a bustard or two, for many
were about the moorland close at hand. They would be welcome at the
king's table, he said; and I, fresh from the sea and camp, asked
for nothing better than a good gallop over the wide-stretching
hillsides.

So we took fresh horses from those that were led for us, and rode
away. We took hawks--the king had given me a good one when we
started, for a Saxon noble ever rides with hawk on wrist--and two
leash of greyhounds.

I was for putting my arms aside, but the ealdorman said it was
better not to do so, by reason of the moor folk, who were wild
enough to fall on a small party at times. It was of little moment,
however; for we rode in the lighter buff jerkins instead of heavy
mail, and were not going far.

Ethelnoth took two men with him, and my two comrades were with
me--Kolgrim leading the hounds in leash beside his horse. We went
across the first hillside, and from its top looked northward and
westward as far as one could see over the strange grey wastes of
the moorland.

Then from the heather almost under our feet rose a great bustard
that ran down wind with outstretched wings before us, seeking the
lonelier country. Kolgrim whooped, and slipped the leash, and the
hounds sprang after it, and we followed cheering. It was good to
feel the rush of hillside air in our faces, and the spring and
stretch of the horses under us, and to see the long-reached hounds
straining after the great bird that might well be able to escape
them.

I suppose that Ethelnoth started a second bird. I did not look
behind me to see what any man was doing, but followed the chase
round the spur of a granite-topped hillside, and forgot him. For
when the bustard took wing for a heavy flight, and lit and ran
again, and again flew with wings that failed each time more and
more, while the strong legs were the stronger for the short rest,
and when the good hounds were straining after it, one could not
expect me to care for aught but that.

It had been strange if I thought of anything but the sport. I knew
there were two hors