e
crest of the sea-ridge of Kallidromos.

The men came no nearer him. They were keeping roughly to the line of
the path, and drifted through the oak wood before him, an army without
end. He had scarcely thought there were so many fighting men in the
world. He resolved to lie there on the crest, in the hope that ere the
first light they would be gone. Then he would push on to Delphi,
leaving them to settle their quarrels behind him. These were the hard
times for a pious pilgrim.

But another noise caught his ear from the right. The army had flanking
squadrons, and men were coming along the ridge. Very bitter anger rose
in Atta's heart. He had cursed the Hellenes, and now he cursed the
Barbarians no less. Nay, he cursed all war, that spoiled the errands
of peaceful folk. And then, seeking safety, he dropped over the crest
on to the steep shoreward face of the mountain.

In an instant his breath had gone from him. He slid down a long slope
of screes, and then with a gasp found himself falling sheer into space.
Another second and he was caught in a tangle of bush, and then dropped
once more upon screes, where he clutched desperately for handhold.
Breathless and bleeding he came to anchor on a shelf of greensward and
found himself blinking up at the crest which seemed to tower a thousand
feet above. There were men on the crest now. He heard them speak and
felt that they were looking down.

The shock kept him still till the men had passed. Then the terror of
the place gripped him, and he tried feverishly to retrace his steps. A
dweller all his days among gentle downs, he grew dizzy with the sense
of being hung in space. But the only fruit of his efforts was to set
him slipping again. This time he pulled up at the root of gnarled oak,
which overhung the sheerest cliff on Kallidromos. The danger brought
his wits back. He sullenly reviewed his case, and found it desperate.

He could not go back, and, even if he did, he would meet the Persians.
If he went on he would break his neck, or at the best fall into the
Hellenes' hands. Oddly enough he feared his old enemies less than his
friends. He did not think that the Hellenes would butcher him. Again,
he might sit perched in his eyrie till they settled their quarrel, or
he fell off. He rejected this last way. Fall off he should for
certain, unless he kept moving. Already he was retching with the
vertigo of the heights. It was growing lighter. Suddenly